#bc that’s weird and no one wants to see that.

[jeonginsleftcheek]

surprise!

pairing: hyunjin x afab!reader

genre: smut, roommates to lovers

wc: 2.7k

warnings: humping, dirty talk, oral (f), squirting, unprotected sex, creampie

a/n: aight listen - i needed some time to process his new look and now i'm wet for him. he has a tongue piercing in this fic bcs ever since i gave one to rockstar!hyunjin i can't stop thinking about it (and tattoos). he is the moment😩💅🏻❤️

~ masterlist

Fucking hell.

Your hot roommate somehow managed to become hotter than he already was even after he gave you a good scare.

You were used to seeing his fluffy hair flying around everywhere, him tying it up while he was painting or cooking, putting it behind his ear constantly as a habit.

But the hair you were so fond of (even though you found strands of it everywhere in your apartment) was completely gone.

Without any prior announcement too.

You were just finishing up with dinner when he came home, strolling in casually and greeting you as he opened the fridge to grab a cold drink.

You greeted back, not even looking up as you were concentrating on cutting up some veggies.

You made small talk as always, you were kinda close and didn't mind sharing your day to each other over a meal.

Something was weird, you noticed out of the corner of your eye and when you lifted your head to look up, you almost cut your finger off.

"What the fuck?!" you practically screamed and Hyunjin laughed before smirking at you.

"Surprise?"

"Damn right it is." you stared at him in disbelief.

It was different. His long hair was comforting to you as sometimes he even let you braid it or play with it when you hung out and seeing him now was a shock.

His facial features stood out more and you couldn't help but admire his jawline, his nose, his eyebrows, heck even his ears were pretty.

It was unfair that he looked so good.

"I think our dinner's burning." he smirked knowingly and you shrieked, quickly turning the stove off and moving the pot aside.

Even as you sat down to eat, your eyes were glued to him.

"I'm guessing you don't hate it since you keep looking at me." he said, smirking again.

"Hate it? Far from that. I think you look h- well... um." you bit your tongue.

You never made a move on him even though you wanted to so many times, he drove you crazy every day, testing your mental strength as he strolled around shirtless, sometimes only with a towel wrapped around his middle, still wet from his shower. And you had a feeling he knew what he was doing, he was playing with you and he knew you were gonna eat out of his hand no matter what he does.

If you say it now, it'll be there on the table, laid out for him to make the next move.

You were sure the sly bastard was teasing you constantly.

"I look what? Say it." he dared you.

You put your fork down, wiping your mouth as you looked at him again.

"Hot. I think you look hot." you said, your heart beating out of your chest.

"Damn, did I have to shave my head for you to finally admit that?" he smirked and yes you were furious.

But you were also turned on at the way he was eye-fucking you and licking his plump lips, making sure to put his pretty tongue piercing on display.

Fuck, it was even hotter now.

"Shut up." you threw a napkin at him and he laughed at your feeble attempt to chase him away.

"Make me." he bit on his lip.

You didn't expect that.

"Make you?" your thighs pressed together, your stomach filling up with butterflies as you felt arousal gather on your pussy.

"Yeah, shut me up. Be creative with it." he smirked.

You observed him shortly as you felt annoyance and arousal rise inside you, wilding like the sea that was constantly spilling between your legs.

You stood up, pushing your chair back, almost making it fall down before you rounded the table to his side.

Hyunjin had a shit-eating grin on his face, manspreading in the chair as he looked up at you as if he was inviting you to sit in his lap.

You grabbed his chin making his eyes flutter instantly as you leaned in closer to his face.

God, he was beautiful.

"What are you waiting for, doll?" he smirked.

God, he angered you so badly.

So you crashed your lips on his, finally tasting him, feeling his soft lips move against yours.

Your hand slid on his face, his soft skin under your fingertips as you made your way to his hair.

Hyunjin was smirking into the kiss as you swiped your tongue over his lips, pushing it into his mouth to play with him, your hand finally touching his hair and it was surprisingly soft as you caressed him.

Hyunjin's large hands grabbed at you, pulling you into his lap as you whimpered into his mouth.

The kiss was sloppy, full of slurping sounds and teeth clanking occasionally but neither of you cared.

"Creative enough?" you asked when you parted for air, his lips were swollen and glistening with spit and you were sure yours were the mirror image.

"I think you can do better." he noted, the annoying smirk playing on his lips as always.

You held his face as you crashed your lips on his once more, kissing him harder and Hyunjin gripped at your hips before his hands slid down to your ass.

You bit on his bottom lip, pulling it between his teeth and making him groan. His hand lifted up as he smacked your ass and you accidentally grinded against his growing bulge.

You froze for a moment and he looked at you hazily, his cheeks rosy, and a lazy smile, he looked even more edible than moments ago.

"Backing out?" he asked.

"N-no." you whined as he gripped your ass and pressed you into him, slightly moving against your core.

"Want me to take the lead, doll?" he asked with a smirk and you really didn't want to give him the satisfaction but he was already on it, leaning in as he started kissing your neck.

You shivered as he massaged your ass, slowly moving his clothed length against you and making your panties even more soaked.

Your hands were on his head and the back of his neck, touching him and getting used to the feel of it.

Hyunjin bit into your flesh, sucking on it and you wanted so badly to pull on his hair but you couldn't so you gripped the back of his neck, making him whine as his hands traveled under your shirt.

You were glad you didn't wear your bra as Hyunjin went straight for your tits, grabbing at them and playing with your nipples as he kept leaving marks on your neck.

You literally thought in that moment that he was going to make you cum in your panties, you felt so pathetic for letting him win so fast but he stopped all his movement, making you whine.

"Shh, doll." Hyunjin shushed you, grabbing your shirt and sliding it off, tossing it somewhere aside.

He looked at your tits as if he was in a trance but before you let him come near them, you tugged on his shirt so he took it off.

He had a few tattoos here and there and you wanted to press your lips to every single one, trace them with your tongue as if you were drawing on him.

Hyunjin didn't notice your mesmerized face because he was focused on your breasts, he finally leaned in and wrapped his lips around your nipple, moaning as he started sucking.

You whimpered, throwing your head back as you ran your fingers on the back of his neck.

Hyunjin's tongue lapped at your nipple, his hand sliding down into your panties.

You jolted a little, you didn't think he was this impatient but his fingers already found your puffy clit as he pressed into it and started moving them in circles.

You gripped his head, holding him down as he sucked on your breast harshly, making him whine around you as he sped up with his fingers.

"So wet for me, you're dripping." he ran his fingertips on your folds, gathering your wetness before he pulled them out of your panties and brought them to your mouth.

"Taste yourself." he smirked and you complied, opening your mouth as you moved against him, needing to feel anything as you sucked on his fingers.

He kept smirking as his other hand gripped your breasts, playing with them and you were just about to explode.

You gripped his wrist and pulled his hand away.

"I need more." you whimpered and he chuckled.

"Mm. What would that be?" he wrapped his arms around you, leaning in to kiss your collarbone and your breasts.

"Hyunjin, stop teasing me or so help me god-"

"What are you gonna do doll?" he smirked up at you, pressing your chest against his skin.

He was so warm and you wanted to drown in him.

You were about to get so annoyed with his teasing as you stood up, but Hyunjin followed you quickly, one arm wrapped around you as he moved the plates aside, making room to sit you up on the table.

You gasped in shock, looking back at the half finished dinner Hyunjin just pushed on the side, his fingers hooking into your pants.

"Here? Hyunjin, we eat here." you tried to scold him but he giggled.

"Oh, I'm gonna eat." he smirked, pulling your pants down and throwing them aside as you whimpered.

"Hyun!" your voice came out high pitched as he ran his fingers over the wet patch on your panties.

"All this for me?" he stared at you and you shivered under his gaze.

"Y-yeah." you swallowed, shivering in anticipation.

Hyunjin spread your legs before kneeling down, making you grip the table when his breath hit your core.

He leaned in, his lips attaching to your clothed clit as he licked at it, making the fabric even more wet before he started sucking on it.

"H-Hyun!" you moaned, your hand flying to his head to push him into you.

He smirked against you, tongue lapping over your folds as his nose pressed into your clit.

"P-please." you moaned, already grinding against his perfect face.

"Ah fuck it, I'm still hungry." he teased before pushing your panties aside, his tongue gathering your sweet juices as he moaned into you.

Your legs trembled as he started to suck on your clit, moaning constantly as if he was the one getting head, not you.

You kept running your hands on his soft hair, pushing him closer to you as he ate you out teasingly slowly, his tongue lapping at your insides, drinking from you, his piercing driving you crazy.

You needed more, faster, deeper and your legs started closing around his head but Hyunjin gripped your thighs, forcing you open as he kept eating you out like you were the last meal he was ever going to have.

You grinded against his face, his nose kept pressing against your clit as he fucked you with his tongue and soon your legs were shaking.

You kept him pressed against you and he moaned into your pussy, making out with your lower lips and you were losing your mind.

It didn't take much longer for you to explode on his face and tongue and Hyunjin eagerly licked it all up.

"Fuck." you groaned as he lifted up, licking around his swollen lips.

He looked at you as if he still wasn't satiated, as if he was going to devour you whole and at that moment you wanted him to.

"I could do that for hours." he whined, hand gripping at his obvious bulge.

"Why didn't you?" you smirked, still breathless.

"I wanna fuck your little pussy until it's shaped like my cock." he said as he pulled his length out, making you whimper and gasp at his words.

He gave himself a few tugs and you stared at his pretty cock, the tip glistening with pre-cum.

He gripped your panties and pulled them off before standing closer to you.

"H-Hyunjin!" you moaned when he pressed his tip on your folds.

"Gonna be a good doll and take it?" he smirked and you nodded.

He chuckled before pushing in, making you moan loudly as your nails dug into the table beneath you.

It wasn't the most comfortable thing to lay on but the feeling of Hyunjin stretching you with his cock and filling you up so perfectly made your mind cloudy.

He leaned closer to you and you gripped at his arms immediately as he held your hips, thrusting into you semi-fast.

"F-fuck..." you moaned, already on edge and it was embarrassing.

"How many times have you fantasized about me, hm babygirl?" Hyunjin smirked as he pressed himself closer to you, his cock massaging your cervix as his happy trail rubbed against your skin.

You opened your lips to speak as he held your hip, his other hand lifting up to put your hair behind your ear.

Before you could answer, your pussy clenched around him and you came all over his cock, tears flooding your eyes instantly.

"You came already?" he laughed mockingly as you dug your nails in his shoulders.

"I- I-" you were about to actually cry. This has never happened to you.

"It's okay doll. I know you're desperate for my cock. I think that makes you even cuter." he smirked as he started fucking you harder, the table with all the plates and glasses clattering.

"Ah!" you moaned repeatedly, not able to form any coherent words or sentences as he fucked you dumb on your kitchen table.

You wrapped your arms and legs around him as Hyunjin continued pounding into you, leaning closer again so he could grunt in your ear as you touched his soft short hair again, at this point the new look was making you feel even more aroused.

"I knew this pussy was greedy for my cock. Look how she's sucking me in." he looked down at where his length disappeared inside you so you followed his eyes, whimpering when you got the visual of his cock covered in your white cream fucking in and out of you.

"Shit!" you clenched around him again as he looked up at you.

"You gonna cum for me again?" he smirked, fucking you with even more force, the plates were dangerously close to the edge of the table.

"Y-yes!" you whimpered, completely dizzy and out of your mind as you squirted around his cock, your pussy gripping him so tightly that Hyunjin couldn't help it as he twitched inside you.

You scratched at his back as he dug his nails into your hips, filling you up with spurts of hot cum.

A crash startled you as he lazily fucked into you, trying to hold onto his high as long as possible and both of you looked up, seeing that one of the plates had fallen on the floor, smashing into pieces.

"Oh." Hyunjin groaned as he caged your head with his arms before he leaned down to kiss you, pressing his wet body against yours.

Both of you were sticky and wet and you couldn't believe you just let your hot roommate fuck you on the table in your kitchen.

He pulled out and chuckled at the mess.

"Wow you did a number on my back." Hyunjin noticed his reflection in the window, his back red with scratches.

"That's cause you didn't have any hair I could pull on." you smirked as you sat up.

"The way you held onto me I wouldn't have any left." he smirked back and you slapped his arm, giggling at him.

"I take it your really like my new hair." he leaned his hands on the table, caging you in again.

"I really like you." you said, your face heating up.

"I know you do, doll. Why do you think I've been teasing you? I was just waiting for you to finally react." he winked and you wanted to smack him but he caught your hand and held it.

"I really like you too." he said before kissing you.

"We should clean up the mess." you said as you leaned back.

"We should. After round two. Or more. Who knows." Hyunjin wiggled his eyebrows before lifting you up in his arms and making you squeal as he carried you towards your bedroom.

You were in for a long night.

taglist: @moonchild9350 @janepg @velvetmoonlght @hwanghyunjinismybae @jehhskz @porangporangmeong @laylasbunbunny @jeonginslefthand @laughatdanger @sapphirewaves @s3ungm1nxxl0ve @painterhyunjin @starlost-mochi-x @saintcosette @ooshyana @frehyun @scarlet789 @skzdust @simpforleeknaur @schniti-is-in-the-house

[abrthephantomq]

You tell me I'm a good boy or a good pet and I'll melt in your hands. - Jazz, probably, when he figures out that he's a simp for Zim even if he doesn't realize WHY he's obsessed with him.

Zim this, Zim that - he's all you talk about, Dib. Maybe you don't actually hate him. Maybe you actually like, wanna suck his dick or something --

GAZLENE --

what? Am I wrong?

Nnn-- I mean -- yes. Yes you're wrong Gaz.

Hey, have you noticed there's lots more planes flying overhead around here, lately?

Yeah, that'd make sense and all, considering what happened last week.

What happened last week?

...........Dib. You know what happened last week.

I don't, actually -- oh no...

What is it? Why're you acting so weird? Like, weirder than usual?

Fuck I overshot.

What do you mean, you overshot?

Gaz, what year is it?

It's 2001. Why?

Month?

September --

Of course! That's what happened, last week. Thanks. I forgot for a second. That's all.

How could you forget about it? All you've been talking about is how Zim was the one who did all of it --

BECAUSE HE DID, GAZ.

What?

That was ZIM - he didn't manage to sell any candy bars so he lost our bet. He was so confused why humans weren't falling to their knees, terrified. In those EXACT words. I have a recording of him saying just that.

What the hell, Dib --

:voice recording plays - Zim sounds absolutely devastated: "they didn't even blink an eye when I put that city in ruins. How can these humans be so.... Eh? I forgot the word, what was I saying?

Oh. Yeah. These hyumens aren't scared of my super scary simulation of me destroying one of their precious cities! They just shrugged and said whatever. I don't want your fucking candy."

Do you humans not get enough moneys to buy these things? These are....really good chocolate. Like, I expected them to be sand based on the name of them, but -- they're actually good? Is this a PRIVATE school?

[Dib's voice can be heard in the background; he apparently planted a bug that looked exactly like The Bug --, right where Zim tended to look at himself in the mirror. Because Zim likes to talk to himself out loud - but he's gotta see his reflection to do it. But Zim's eyes are fucking terrible and he can't see shit, even with his occular implants. Even though he is an Irken Elite. You're not gonna get anymore information from me than that. Either way, you hear enough to know that it's Dib speaking, even if you can't make out what he's saying. But Zim can hear him even if Dib is WAYYYYYY. Over there bc of his antenna. Like. You can hear a Dib when he is in his home. That is how much better Zim can hear than Dib]

Did you really just hijack me, space boy? I'm trying to tell my part of the story here as the fly on the wall of every single moment the two of you think you're alone.

Bobby Dawn what are you doing. (Barbie Dan?)(nah, Bobby Dawn. But if you wanna say it where people hear the name both ways, go for it)

Anyways, Steven asked for my assistance with the next chapter of class clown. This ain't the next, next chapter, but it is a chapter that'll show up later down the road. He's gotta finish a Mr. sludgey POV, first.

This just the super unedited version done while I'm high bc I love creating bonds and strengthening them via writing them. That includes my TikToks and my journal entries I ain't shared with y'all and all the writing we ain't shared with y'all, neither.

Gonna go get myself some lunch now, tho. Been at this long enough. ❤️ Have a good day now, y'hear?

All fanfiction authors have praise kinks in the form of comments and likes

[acevity]

theyre in my head. forever. take some scraps

[quarterlifekitty]

how do we feel ab biker boys guys😞

BC I cannot stop thinking about them buying you all the lipsticks you want as long as you kiss their helmet

like idk what it is but its js SOOOO… but im also fuckin crazy so LMFAO

I am going to answer this in earnest in a sec but I need to tell you something. TikTok is lying to you. The apex biker species is actually hijabi women. I am often in Southeast Asia to visit family and every time I see a hijabi woman on a motorbike I’m like 👁️👁️ and then I get so hard that I get dizzy.

Anyways. Dunno where exactly I’m imagining the AU. Something atom cats adjacent? Idk. Lost boys, anyone???

But. Imagine the tf141 motorcycle gang. They’re weird, and it’s weird that they share a girlfriend, but honestly they don’t start problems in public spaces and they tip their servers so no one is gonna tell them to stop being freaks.

You cycle through your favorite rider.

You go on Soap’s bike when you want thrills— of not always quite knowing if you’ll make it.

You ride with Gaz when you want to see the sights— he knows all the best spots that you just can’t get to with a conventional car.

You ride with Ghost if you wanna get there fast. He naturally commands a lot of respect on the road, and he’s an expert lane weaver.

You ride with Nik if you want to be impressed. He knows these machines better than anyone, and he’s keen to show off how that translates into his handling.

You ride with Price because his bike is the most powerful. As such, it vibrates the most.

[froggerland]

Finally tackling the requests (feel free to send more btw i will do them eventually i swear)

This basically turned into a mutineers doodle sheet bc i cannot and will not stop incorporating Tozer into everything ever

Left to right:

- Billy at the start of the expedition when he still looked somewhat alive (no shade to the actor absolutely terrific casting he does look like a dying victorian dude)

- Tozer and Armitage (trying to draw more fullbodies)

- Billy looking not so alive anymore

- Hickey ans Billy (I dont really ship them bc hickey is a twisted little fuck BUT i firmly believe he actually loved Billy (in his weird way but nonetheless) case and point the mercy kill scene (aka he stabs billy before he gets too sick) (i could write a whole ass essay about this))

- 2x Tommy Armitage

- Hickey trying to seduce Tozer (its up to you to decide what his other hand is doing)

- Tozer (my favorite shaggy cattle dog you will always be famous to me)

- Armitage trying on Tozers uniform bc that one footnote that said Tommy wanted to be a marine but wasnt allowed to bc hes partially deaf is so important to me (its the only thing that makes Armitage interesting to me (im sorry i really dont care about armitage or gibson or any of the mutineers except for tozer all that much agdghshs but i do see the appeal i see the vision you guys have))

Bonus!! Give it up for the worlds worst fucking polycule

[leona-hawthorne]

okay i have been waiting for this on the edge of my seat and i'm so fucking grateful that i finally got to sit down and read it (alone, of course, because my reactions were quite literally animalistic)

let me also add that the warnings themselves had me fucking moaning—alright now let's get into this!!

zoya, your writing truly has me in complete awe. "english is not my first language" okay and it appears that that literally does not matter at all because this??? this was a goddamn masterpiece.

(apologies in advance bc this is going to be an extremely long reblog)

He was insane. Truly insane. Almost unhinged. Mattheo Riddle was the definition of impulsive thoughts turned into reckless actions, actions that always led him to trouble. He was raw, magnetic, and dangerously unpredictable, the kind of person who attracted attention without even trying.

okay, but this right here??? the way you captured mattheo's essence so perfectly, i’m obsessed. like, he’s not just reckless—he’s raw and magnetic, and that’s such a powerful way to describe someone who’s constantly teetering on the edge of chaos. it’s like you reached into his chaotic little soul and pulled out the perfect words. it’s giving “force of nature,” and the way you wrote it feels so vivid and alive, like i can see him and feel the tension he carries everywhere he goes. your writing is so sharp and evocative, i can’t stop rereading this bit.

He didn’t just attract trouble; he craved it, needed it like it was the only thing keeping him seen.

the truth was different: he thrived on attention, bad or good, as if he needed it to keep himself whole.

my babyyy, he craves trouble like it’s the only way he can feel noticed. it’s like he’s reduced his own worth to just being seen and perceived by others, even if it means chaos. love how you captured that desperation in such a short line.

every corner seemed like an unsettling, cavernous form that resembled a muggle abandoned cathedral. It felt sacred in a weird twisted way, as if it were built to bear the weight of sinful actions that were too heavy to confess elsewhere.

how do you set the tone so well?!? the imagery is wildly vivid—i can almost feel the heaviness of the space, like it’s got its own dark history!!

The only thing he knew for sure was that you almost had him entirely.

And for him, that was awful enough.

oh this killed me—the tension between wanting something and being terrified of it. mattheo’s vulnerability here is chef's kiss, showing how much he's fighting against his feelings, even when he’s almost lost to them. such a perfect snapshot of their dynamic.

He never quite understood why his heart raced when he was in your presence, as if it might break through his ribs, his flesh, and fall directly into your palms, fully out of his power. At times he couldn't help but press his hand against his own chest, trying to stop it, trying to hold it back, but it only frustrated him further.

Nevertheless, there were times when he nearly wished his heart would simply give way and land in your hands so you could do with it whatever you pleased, whether that meant crushing it entirely or holding it tenderly between your fingers.

okay i am genuinely so in love with this whole part, i had to reread it like 3 times 😵‍💫 the internal conflict is so palpable—like, he’s torn between wanting to control something that’s clearly already beyond his grasp, but also secretly wishing to surrender to the one person who can break him. the image of him physically pressing down on his chest to stop it??? i am actually crying, zoya. ugh, and the fact that he doesn't care whether he'd be hurt or cared for—he just wants her, FUCK he is obsessed.

This ritual, this moment—it was his, only his. Yet, for some reason, he felt a twisted satisfaction knowing he was going to share it with you.

AHDHSFG his possessive ass actually enjoying sharing something??? aw he likes her 😚🤗

Mattheo let out a low, almost manic laugh as his gaze remained fixed on the blade in his hand.

the way he kept laughing like a fucking maniac throughout the entirety of this fic OMG i can almost hear it in my head, he's so fucking hot.

his grip tightening around your hand, not to soothe you, but to remind himself you were still there

I'M BLUSHING, idk if he's doing that solely because of the ritual but either way, the fact that he wants to reassure himself that she didn't go anywhere is making my heart squeeze in my chest 🥹

Mattheo chuckled dryly, releasing your hand to stop you from gripping it, from finding any comfort in his presence.

BITCH??!?! YOU ASSHOLE, hold my hand i'm scared ☹️

He was an insensitive prick, but dear god, he was a beautiful one. 

this is so true—HE'S FUCKING MEAN, but i genuinely have never seen a more angelic man 😭🪽

Shit, you’re not wearing a bra.

Mattheo swore the zipper on his pants was going to break any second.

alr here we go (i'm horny now)

Without a word he reached up and tugged his shirt over his head, casting it aside without care.

well shit, now we're both hard, mattheo!! 🤜💥🤛 (i am drooling at the thought of this rn)

Your bare chests were almost touching, the air thick with tension, your hard nipples brushing just slightly against his skin.

no, you actually don't understand—this is so intimate, i can just imagine the silence and the only sound being their heavy ass breathing, its so 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 also i think i would lose my mind if my nips were like JUST BARELY brushing against him, what a tease

With a deep breath, you pressed the blade to your palm, hissing softly as the edge cut into your skin, making you feel even more bare and open than you already did.

idk if you've seen stranger things but this is making me think of when nancy and jonathan did the same exact thing and cut their palms. that scene and the matching scars and just them in general is so dear to me, so this is making me feel so many things rn

Without warning, his lips pressed against the spot, his tongue tracing the blood.

“It’s so sweet,” he murmured, his teeth grazing the skin of your neck, the crimson of your blood staining them as he pulled you closer, pressing you against him in a way that felt almost inhuman. “So fucking sweet.”

okay mr vampire!! (this is so fucking hot i am literally struggling to function rn and i am lucky i didn't read this during ovulation 🙂‍↕️)

Mattheo chuckled in satisfaction, bringing his bloodied hand to your stomach, the crimson spreading across your exposed skin like a mark. “You like it, don’t you?”

MY JAW DROPPED PLEASE OH MY GOD, HIM SPREADING THE COLD BLOOD ON HER STOMACH?? I CAN IMAGINE MYSELF JERKING AWAY OMF YES DADDY I LOVE IT

Mattheo chuckled again against your throat, his teeth sinking into the spot once more, making you moan. He mimicked the sound...

i'm being so serious, this part will live on in my brain forever. him MIMICKING/MOCKING HER MOAN??? HE'S SO MEAN AND COCKY HOLY FUCK THAT WAS SO HOT

he guided your hand to your neck, then down to your breasts, trailing the blood like a map. Before you could react to the sting of your hard nipple pressing against the cut, Mattheo moved faster, pulling your nipple—now smeared with your own blood—into his mouth. 

spreading her own blood all over her body just so he can lick it off, oml can you spread my legs open next, mattheo? 😇 (jk, they're already spread)

The way his hands pushed your now bloody breasts together enough for his head to dive between them as he continued to whisper praises, words of hunger.

“Your tits…”Mattheo moaned even louder, dragging a moan from your lips in response. Fuck, he was so close.

first, AJDGHFDJHDRFGJHAFGHJSRGFJHSRF him pressing her tits together just to SHOVE HIS FACE IN BETWEEN oh he's so down bad 🤭 also the "your tits..." BOY. he was so cocky and degrading before—now he's all pathetic and obsessing over her tits? ah, just what I love to see 😮‍💨

“Open your mouth,” he commanded, an order you immediately understood. You obeyed without hesitation, and before you could react, he spat into your mouth and thrust his tongue inside, kissing you deeply.

yes sir please spit in my mouth (he's so nasty and disgusting and i fucking love him for it)

You could feel Mattheo’s cheeks pressed against your thighs as he buried himself in your pussy, suffocating himself in your scent and taste. He mentally begged some higher power to let him one day die like this...

YES PLEASE LET ME SUFFOCATE YOU BETWEEN MY LEGS MATTY PLS 🙏 "let him one day die like this" he is so obsessed god i love this so much

“Such a pretty one you are,” he muttered, his words slurring into the juices of your cunt.

THE WAY HE CAN'T TEAR HIS FACE AWAY EVEN JUST FOR A MOMENT TO SPEAK AJDGSGDFHSDFG i would actually be dying at all the praise

clearly, i got a little carried away with this reblog (this is literally the longest reblog i’ve ever made 🧍🏻‍♀️), but what can i say? this was 6.3k words of art and i had to include all my favorite parts 🤷‍♀️🙂‍↕️

love you zoya!!!! 🫂🤍

𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐎𝐍

mattheo riddle x fem reader

SUMMARY. in which mattheo seeks power and needs your help to perform a blood ritual. WORDS. +6.3K. english is not my first language.

WARNINGS. smut, mdni, porn w//plot, mean mattheo, aged up characters, friends to fuck buddies, blood play, blood kink, cuts, spitting, nipple sucking, oral sex f!receiving, pussy drunk mattheo, handjob, dirty talk, biting, marking.

navigation -> masterlist

He was insane. Truly insane. Almost unhinged. Mattheo Riddle was the definition of impulsive thoughts turned into reckless actions, actions that always led him to trouble. He was raw, magnetic, and dangerously unpredictable, the kind of person who attracted attention without even trying. Every move he made, every word he spoke, every breath he took was saturated with confidence and superiority.

He didn’t just attract trouble; he craved it, needed it like it was the only thing keeping him seen.

Mattheo was like a storm no one could outrun, an enigma without resolution, and that was exactly what made him so intoxicating. There was something in his presence that pulled people toward him, whether in admiration or fear, and no one could quite decide if it was for better or worse. He wasn’t just hard to ignore; he was impossible to overlook. He demanded attention simply by existing, and it was maddening, the way he could dominate a room with nothing more than a simple glance.

It could have been for a lot of reasons. Maybe it was the way he acted like he didn’t have a care in the world, the sharp, biting comments he always seemed to have ready, words that stuck like blood on stone.Or maybe it was the fights, the way he seemed to throw himself into them too often, always coming out with the same satisfied expression. After all, he was the only son of the Dark Lord, and that alone was enough to draw all kinds of attention.

Whatever was the reason, chaos seemed to follow him everywhere, like he thrived on it. Perhaps he didn’t care at all. No outsider really knew, and no one ever tried to figure him out. Nobody had the courage to do so.

Either way, there were always whispers about him, cruel rumors about his personality and massive ego, some saying he was just like his father, or maybe even a darker version of him, while others came from students eager to get close in obscene ways, hoping to spend a night with their bodies tangled in his. 

Yet Mattheo didn’t show that he cared, always pretending to be focused on his own goals, moving through the chaos unshaken and unbothered, though deep down, the truth was different: he thrived on attention, bad or good, as if he needed it to keep himself whole.

But you had seen enough to know the truth. He was cruel, ruthless, and everything people whispered about him, perhaps even worse. And yet, here you were, trapped in his chaos, each moment with him drawing you deeper into the darkness.

You were trapped. Absolutely trapped.

Perhaps it was in the way he looked at you, his deep brown eyes burning with an intensity that stole your breath away, leaving you struggling to keep your heart from racing, as if he saw something inside of you that you weren’t capable of seeing. Or maybe it was the way his words stayed in your mind long after they were spoken, carving their way into your thoughts like a knife you didn’t want to pull out, and no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you were already in too deep.

If you thought about it more, you didn’t know what had brought you here. The main factor to why you were so attracted to an ongoing fire.

Could be the adrenaline from his strange proposal, or the way you couldn’t stop thinking about him, his presence always glued to your mind. Could also be the need to be near him, the way your body moved toward his as if it had no will of its own, or perhaps it was the way he seemed to control your heart in a way you couldn’t even understand. It was twisted, even a little scary, but neither of you cared.

After all, you were friends.

You didn’t know when it stopped feeling like curiosity—just a lingering thought— but the doubt never really went away. Instead it became prominent, tight in your chest whenever he was around. There was something darker about him, something dangerous in the way he lived recklessly, only focused on his own desires, how he thrived on the attention he got, pulling you deeper without even trying.

And now, standing there, you couldn’t shake the feeling that whatever came next, there was no turning back. No escape.

The Room of Requirement was cloaked in dark shadows, the silence broken only by the faint hiss of flickering candles. Their soft, wavering light offered a fragile sense of comfort, though it did little to ease the tension hanging in the air. The atmosphere was thick and heavy, saturated with the acrid tang of burning incense and something darker, almost unspoken.

Torchlight flickered across the cold stone walls, making jagged patterns that twisted and stretched with each almost shiny flicker. That night, the requirement room felt weird, unlike the form other students seemed to used—every corner seemed like an unsettling, cavernous form that resembled a muggle abandoned cathedral. It felt sacred in a weird twisted way, as if it were built to bear the weight of sinful actions that were too heavy to confess elsewhere.

The faint metallic scent in the air lingered, sharp and heavy, mixed with something even more heavy, felt almost like a warning. On the stone floor, crude runes spiraled out in precise, jagged lines, their edges glowing faintly as though alive and energetic, pulsing in time with the biting silence as if they were watching, waiting to know what was about to take place.

In the center of it all stood Mattheo Riddle, the one person who seemed to take up every space in your mind, his dark robes draping loosely over his strong frame, giving him an effortless air of power, his features, defined and almost angelic, partially hidden by his messy curls that always fell into his pretty eyes.

The flickering torchlight danced off his hair with every movement, making it seem almost alive; there was something strange about how his appearance seemed almost angelic, yet you knew Mattheo’s true personality, making him all the more dangerous, like a trap just waiting for you to step in.

He could look still, even controlled, but there was nothing controlled about this. Nothing about him was controlled.

Mattheo looked at the dagger in his hands, his gaze drifting over the blade, but it wasn’t the dagger that had his attention. It was you. Your eyes were on him, and it felt like he was being torn apart with just that look. It wasn’t like the attention he was used to—no fear or admiration in it.

No, this was different. It was more like an assessment. The weight of your gaze was almost suffocating, as if you were digging into him, getting under his skin in a way that made him feel stupidly exposed and making him feel a strange sensation tighten in his chest, choking his throat in ways he couldn’t understand, and he hated it.

He hated how you made him feel like this—torn between wanting to get closer and wanting to run away from that. And even if it was good or bad; neither mattered. He didn’t want to know. The only thing he knew for sure was that you almost had him entirely.

And for him, that was awful enough.

He never quite understood why his heart raced when he was in your presence, as if it might break through his ribs, his flesh, and fall directly into your palms, fully out of his power. At times he couldn't help but press his hand against his own chest, trying to stop it, trying to hold it back, but it only frustrated him further.

Nevertheless, there were times when he nearly wished his heart would simply give way and land in your hands so you could do with it whatever you pleased, whether that meant crushing it entirely or holding it tenderly between your fingers. He wasn't certain which would provide him with greater comfort, but he was certain that if you gave him that satisfaction, he will never be the same again.

Mattheo sighed and shook his head rapidly, making a dramatic gesture as he attempted to avoid your concentrated, evaluating stare on him once more. He concentrated on the tiny silver dagger in his hand, trying not to hold it too firmly in his palm, but nothing could take away the sensation, and even if it didn't cause him any discomfort, the pressure that made it was obvious.

He let out another sigh, this time frustrated, rubbing his forehead, but couldn’t help releasing another, this time a relieved one, when he saw your attention shift to the two circles drawn around him, almost like some kind of illustration, and he couldn’t help but smirk knowingly as he noticed the change in your expression; at the confusion in your eyes and at your furrowed brows as you tried to make sense of the strange symbols, carefully etched inside the circles on the floor.

Mattheo looked away, quickly shifting his focus to the symbol at his feet. In comparison with the other symbols, this one was far more complex, with each line and curve being meticulous and precise. As he raised his chin in satisfaction with what he did, Mattheo couldn't help but widen his smirk into a full grin, an equal amount of pride and arrogance coming across his expression.

This ritual, this moment—it was his, only his. Yet, for some reason, he felt a twisted satisfaction knowing he was going to share it with you. Even though you were there not completely voluntarily, you still had a place in it, whether you liked it or not. 

This time, it was Mattheo who looked at you with an intense, almost predatory gaze, his hand tightening once more around the blade in his palm as he kept his eyes on you. He was already preparing to take the first step toward the power he would gain from what you two were about to do. All he needed was your final confirmation and for you to step into the middle of the circle with him.

“Are you ready for this?” His voice broke the silence, low and almost a purr, making you look up at him. Ready? Fuck no. In fact, you were terrified. Every part of you screamed to run, to get as far away from this room and this stupid ritual as possible. But your body didn’t listen to your brain. Your heart didn’t either. Instead, you stayed still, frozen, your eyes locked with his own, already filled with amusement and something darker, like a challenge. 

You knew this was stupid. Hell, it was almost suicidal. A ritual to give him more power, cutting your own hand, spilling your blood, mixing it with his just to make him stronger. It was madness. More than that, even.

But then again, a part of you wanted it. A part of you wanted to leave a piece of yourself with him, to bind yourself to him in some twisted way. And for some fucked-up reason, you craved that. You wanted to be marked by him, to have a part of you inside him forever. Mattheo had already carved his mark into your mind, into the darkest corners of your heart, and now you wanted to do the same.

Stupid curiosity.

“Well?” Mattheo asked again, his voice dripping with amusement, though you could hear the faint edge of annoyance creeping in. He tried to hold onto his usual confident, relaxed demeanor, but it was slipping. “What’s it gonna be?” The same damn question. You wouldn’t be stupid enough to make him ask a third time. 

“I…” You paused, your voice cracking, and you couldn’t help but curse yourself under your breath as you felt his gaze digging into you, waiting for the answer he wanted. “I think I’m ready,” you finally said, taking a step forward, ignoring the part of you screaming to get the hell out of there. Yet your body moved faster than your mind, and before you knew it, you took an unconscious step closer to him, making his eyebrow quirk in amusement. 

Mattheo raised an eyebrow, his smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. “You think?” he repeated, his voice thick with mockery. He almost laughed; if it were not for the situation you two were in.

“Fuck—” you hissed under your breath, cursing yourself again, and Mattheo’s smirk stretched wider. “I’m ready.” You corrected yourself, the words tasting wrong. “I’m ready,” you said again, this time to convince yourself more than him.

Mattheo let out a low, almost manic laugh as his gaze remained fixed on the blade in his hand. The sound sent an unexpected shiver down your spine, and your cheeks flushed as his voice echoed in your ears. When he looked back at you, his eyes were softer than before, though the usual intensity remained, as if he was offering something that, despite not being comfort, somehow left you feeling relieved in a way.

He stretched his hand towards you, his voice calmer than before but still firm. “Let’s go. The sooner we start, the sooner this thing is going to end.” The sooner he would have control. Mattheo called you again, and you let out a soft sigh before taking that first step.

Each step you took was filled with hesitation, but your body didn’t seem to care. It moved toward the circle, fighting the doubt gnawing on your mind. When you finally stepped inside, you couldn’t hold back a small sigh as your hand found Mattheo’s. The touch sent a shiver down your spine, your cheeks flushing as you saw the same smirk on his lips, the reaction causing a tug on your heart. He didn’t need to say anything; you could feel how much he enjoyed this, how much he knew the effect he had on you.

Sometimes you wanted to punch him. 

As soon as you took his hand, Mattheo’s confidence wavered slightly; his heart pounded just by your touch. However, he couldn’t hide the dark amusement in his eyes as he watched your flushed cheeks and how your body betrayed you. It was too easy.

“This,” he said, gesturing to the intricate runes carved into the floor with the tip of his dagger, his grip tightening around your hand, not to soothe you, but to remind himself you were still there. “It’s going to hurt like hell.” He said it with such ease, as if the pain and the blood were just a minor part. You swallowed hard, the confirmation of what you already knew settling deep in your stomach. “At least for you,” he added with an eyebrow raised, his voice laced with amusement.

His words weren’t reassuring at all—not that you expected them to be. He didn’t care about calming you or making this easier to bear. That wasn’t his style, and it never had been. Mattheo thrived in chaos, in mess, and he wanted you to feel every bit of it. He wanted to pull you into the madness, to push you until you struggled to keep yourself together.

“You’re not exactly helping me calm down, you know?” you said through gritted teeth, barely stopping yourself from telling him to go fuck himself. 

Mattheo chuckled dryly, releasing your hand to stop you from gripping it, from finding any comfort in his presence. “Glad to know, sweetheart.” He said casually, like it didn’t matter at all. “But who said I want you to calm down?” he murmured, and you might have thought he was joking if it weren’t for the fact that you had known him for years.

You scoffed at his lack of sympathy. It wasn’t surprising, though; his attitude was one of the things that drew you to him, even if it wasn’t exactly healthy. You watched as he lit more candles, the flame dancing with every step he took, highlighting the sharp lines of his features. He was an insensitive prick, but dear god, he was a beautiful one. 

After a few seconds, Mattheo stood up, still holding the dagger in his hand. He glanced at you, and for a brief moment, something in his gaze made his heartbeat almost thud down his ribs. He took a few steps toward you, and your eyes met. His dark eyes were intense, unreadable, and the weight of the air between you made your stomach twist. Finally, he spoke, his voice low and steady, with a hint of mischief in his tone. The corner of his mouth twitched, the excitement creeping slowly.

“Take off your shirt.”

You blinked, shocked, and for a few seconds, all your fear vanished. “Excuse me?!”

Mattheo observed you, almost as if he were stripping you bare. “Your shirt,” he repeated, his tone annoyingly dismissive. He spun the dagger in his palm with flawless precision, taking a step closer as if your hesitancy pleased him. “Take it off,” he said almost coolly, as if it were the most ordinary thing in the world.

You crossed your arms, feeling your heart race as your face flushed with heat. “And why, exactly, do I need to do that?” You snapped, your voice sharp. You had fantasized a thousand times about Mattheo asking you to do this, but you never imagined it would actually happen, especially not now, in this situation. 

“For the ritual,” he said simply, tilting his head and giving you a smirk that bordered on taunting, as though the answer should’ve been obvious. “I need access to your skin, sweetheart. The magic won’t work otherwise.” His words were smooth, but you couldn’t shake the feeling they held a hint of mockery.

You hesitated, studying him closely. There was something about his response that didn’t sit right, too casual in a way that felt almost taunting, like he wasn’t being completely honest. “You’re making that up,” you said flatly, letting your arms drop to your sides, your eyes narrowing as you searched on his face for a sign of truth. 

His smirk widened, and he continued to twirl the dagger between his fingers, his eyes locked on you. The sight of your flushed cheeks only seemed to make him think with his other head. “Am I?” He took another step closer. 

“Please, Mattheo, I know that’s bullshit!” you spat out, trying to ignore how his smug expression made your skin heat, though particularly of you couldn’t help but consider it.

Mattheo let out a low chuckle, stepping closer, the tension between you nearly unbearable. His voice dipped, rough and almost deliberate, as his dark eyes shamelessly trailed down your body before locking onto yours again.

“Alright,” he murmured, a smile laying wickedly on his lips. “Maybe it’s not entirely necessary. But it helps. A lot.”

The dagger moved lazily in his hand, the sharp edge skimming his palm without cutting his palm. His gaze never left you, steady and intense, like a predator watching its prey. “And we both know you want this to work out, don’t we, sweetheart?” 

Your breath hitched in your throat at his words, a truth you hated to admit even to yourself. You wanted him to notice you—really notice you—the way his gaze seemed to strip you bare, peeling back layers you didn’t even realize you had. But the sharp flare of anger clawed its way up your chest, tangling with the strange pull he always seemed to have over you, leaving you somewhere between furious and helpless.

“Unbelievable,” you muttered, shaking your head, the disappointment cutting deeper than you wanted to admit. You weren’t sure if it was aimed at him or at yourself for falling into this moment—this trap. Probably both. 

“And yet,” he said, taking another step toward you, “here you are.” He mocked you, making you bite your tongue to stop yourself from telling him to fuck off. 

The space between you two was basically nonexistent now, and Mattheo fucking hated it. Hated that it was him moving closer, like he couldn’t help himself. Hated how his body had a mind of its own, reacting to you in ways that made him feel like an idiot. The thought of you, without your shirt, without anything, was driving him insane, his imagination running wild no matter how much he tried to shove it down.

Fuck. He could already feel the strain in his pants, his cock pressing uncomfortably against the fabric. It pissed him off—how easily you got under his skin, how fucking hard it was to keep his cool around you. 

“Fine,” you bit out, your voice rougher than you felt, and Mattheo’s smile twisted with satisfaction, practically waiting for you to do it. You exhaled sharply, trying to ignore the way his eyes were glued to you. Your fingers lingered at the hem of your shirt, heart pounding in your chest as you struggled to find the guts to go through with it. 

Mattheo’s smirk only deepened, his eyes never leaving you, and for a moment, it felt like he was inside your head, reading you like a damn book. His gaze dropped low, just enough to make your skin prickle with awareness. You seemed so fucking soft. “Need help?” he asked, voice dripping with mockery. 

“Shut up, Mattheo” you snapped, yanking the fabric over your head in one swift motion, a shiver running through your whole body. Shit, you’re not wearing a bra.

The second the shirt left your body, the air felt heavier, but you felt the coldness against your exposed skin and nipples. Mattheo’s expression shifted, his smirk slipping for a moment as his eyes scanned over you, taking in more than you were prepared to show. You cursed yourself for not wearing a bra under the thin fabric, your chest bare under the dim torchlight and his searing gaze. Mattheo swore the zipper on his pants was going to break any second.

You couldn't help but feel trapped by his piercing stare as his eyes remained on you, shamelessly tracing your hard nipples. He seemed oblivious; nonetheless, his eyes burned with need as his mind wandered, thinking about the taste of his tongue on your nipples, sucking and biting until all you could think about was the feel of his wet tongue. He held the dagger tightly, only reacting when the blade cut into his flesh.

“Well,” he began, attempting to put the thoughts flowing through his head to the back of his mind, his voice rougher than before, “guess you were more ready than we thought.” He mocked you again, but it seemed like he was also mocking himself.

You could feel your cheeks burning, a mix of anger and something else boiling inside you. You crossed your arms over your chest, trying to block him out, but the moment you saw the way Mattheo’s eyes were fixed on you filled with desire, your hands fell to your sides, betraying your own brain. You wanted this. You wanted him to see you, to really see you.

But as you realized you were staring at him in the same way, you quickly shook your head, trying to push down the desire and need, force some control back into your own voice. “Just get on with it,” you ‘snapped’, trying to hide how much it stung, how much you craved that attention. 

Mattheo’s smirk returned, but this time it was sharper, full with devilment. He took another step toward you, his eyes never leaving yours, and gestured toward the circle with a lazy flick of his hand. “As you wish.”

His expression didn’t shift, his confidence simmering just below the surface as he stepped even closer to you, trying not to look at your bare chest. His eyes flickered to the symbols on the ground, their faint glow reflecting in the depths of his gaze. Without a word he reached up and tugged his shirt over his head, casting it aside without care. He didn’t look at you but still waited for your reaction. You had already drawn one from him—only fair if he returned the favor, right?

You, on the other hand, swallowed hard, your gaze shamelessly tracing the lines of his abdomen and bare, muscular chest. The candles and torchlight cast sharp shadows across the scars etched into his skin, and you held your breath without meaning to. When he glanced forward slightly, his eyes still on the ground as he did so, he had to stifle a chuckle at the sight of your clenched fists, trying to control yourself.

This was going to be fun, at least.

For a brief moment, neither of you spoke or moved. The silence stretched thin, both of you consumed by the same thoughts, the same dirty images racing through your minds. Your chests rose and fell heavily, both of you struggling to regain a normal breath. It was fucking madness. 

Mattheo quickly composed himself, standing at the point of the small symbol on the ground, making sure you mirrored his position on the opposite side. Your bare chests were almost touching, the air thick with tension, your hard nipples brushing just slightly against his skin. He gave a low sigh, words slipping from his lips in a language you couldn’t understand, his voice deep and commanding.

As soon as the words left his mouth, the symbols on the floor pulsed to life, glowing with an eerie light, while the candle flames flickered wildly, as though responding to his words. 

He looked at the dagger in his hand, a proud glint in his eyes before letting his gaze drift up to your face. His eyes lingered on your features, the softness of your eyes, the way your lips parted just enough to drive him insane. He almost couldn’t stop himself from reaching out to touch you, but he stayed still, his jaw tight. “Are you ready?” he asked, his lips moving without sound. “I am,” you mouthed back, the hesitation in your eyes impossible to miss. But he ignored it, choosing to focus on the way you stood there—no turning back now, and honestly? He didn’t want you to cover up. 

Mattheo gripped the dagger with steady hands, his brown eyes flickering briefly to the runes as if making sure everything was aligned. Without a second thought, he pressed the sharp blade to his palm, slicing through the skin with quick, practiced precision. The blood surged from the cut, dripping thick and dark onto the glowing runes below. They reacted violently, flaring brighter, more alive, as if the blood was feeding the symbols, feeding him. 

You held your breath, knowing you were next. But you couldn’t stop yourself from glancing at the ground, watching his blood drip onto the floor beneath both of your feet.

After a few seconds, he lifted his chin, pride in his eyes, his curls moving like the magic around the circles. He grabbed your hand without a word, pressing the dagger into your palm, his gaze never leaving yours. He was waiting, daring you to cut yourself just like he had. 

You felt his blood drip onto your wrist, the warmth of it sending a jolt through your veins. As the dagger pressed into your palm, a breath caught in your throat. The weight of the blade was more than you expected, and for a moment, your eyes lingered on the crimson stains left by Mattheo’s cut, almost hypnotic, tempting you.

Your heart quickened, your pulse echoing in your ears. You hesitated—for a moment. His eyes found you once again, a look that urged you to continue. The hesitation lingering in your heart suddenly dispersed; you wanted nothing but to mark him as yours.

With a deep breath, you pressed the blade to your palm, hissing softly as the edge cut into your skin, making you feel even more bare and open than you already did. The pain was sharp, fleeting, quickly replaced by the blood spilling down your skin, as the runes reacted violently to your action, their glow flaring in response. 

It was instantaneous. The moment your blood touched the floor, the room seemed to exhale, the light flaring brighter and the air humming with a charged, almost electric energy as the ritual began. But the reaction was brief, for Mattheo’s focus shifted.

Mattheo’s gaze was fixed on the cut on your hand, his eyes wide and unblinking, as if he was mesmerized by the crimson blood streaks trailing down your wrist, mingling with his the drops of his blood already on your skin. His jaw clenched, and you swore you saw him swallow hard as he continued to look, his chest rising and falling with a depth of intensity you’d never seen in him before. 

“Mattheo?” You called softly, your voice barely above a whisper, your heartbeat quickening against your bare chest. Yet, it was enough to break his attention.

His eyes naturally met yours once again, vulnerability flickering in his gaze, though the rest of his expression remained unreadable, like a contrast to the hunger simmering beneath. But Mattheo didn't step back. Instead, his calloused fingers brushed against the blood on your wrist, smearing it slightly. The contact sent a jolt through you, and for a moment, neither of you remembered how to breathe.

“Mattheo…” you called out again, but this time it was almost a plea for him not to stop. He obeyed your unspoken request, his fingers tracing your skin as if exploring new territory, so gently that it almost made you forget the lingering sting in your hand. 

Mattheo’s hands moved deliberately, spreading the blood from the deep cut on your hand. He seemed oblivious to the matching wound on his own skin as he dragged the crimson trail up to your neck, smearing it across your skin. Without warning, his lips pressed against the spot, his tongue tracing the blood. He let out a low groan at the taste, and you couldn’t suppress your own when you felt the warmth of his tongue against you. 

“It’s so sweet,” he murmured, his teeth grazing the skin of your neck, the crimson of your blood staining them as he pulled you closer, pressing you against him in a way that felt almost inhuman. “So fucking sweet.” His teeth continued to drag along your skin, while his hand slid down your arm, seeking more of your blood. His fingers tightened around your palm, squeezing to draw out more of the liquid, making you groan in a mix of pain and pleasure as the burn surged through you. 

“Shhh, it’s okay, sweetheart,” Mattheo whispered, biting your neck, his teeth sinking into your skin painfully. He didn’t care about the grunt of pain that escaped your lips, not when more blood joined the one already staining your throat. Right after his first bite, you moaned, your thighs rubbing together in an attempt to ease the wetness in your cunt. 

Mattheo chuckled in satisfaction, bringing his bloodied hand to your stomach, the crimson spreading across your exposed skin like a mark. “You like it, don’t you?” he murmured against your throat, pressing his lips to the marks he had left with his teeth. But when he noticed you hadn’t answered, he bit your neck harder than before and squeezed your stomach, causing more blood to spread across the area. 

You swallowed hard, locking eyes with him as you tried to form a sentence, but the only words that escaped your lips were a barely audible, “Yes, fucking yes,” which only made him laugh harder. He tightened his grip on your skin, sending a sharp sting through your own body. 

“Of course you do… such a fucking slut,” Mattheo chuckled again against your throat, his teeth sinking into the spot once more, making you moan. He mimicked the sound, feeling his pants tighten around his cock as he tasted your blood again on his teeth. His tongue throbbed with desire, savoring the metallic taste. Holy shit, he could cum just from the taste of your blood. “But you taste so damn good.” 

He seemed to have completely forgotten the ritual, and you, too, had let it slip away. You didn’t want to remember, not when his blood stained your skin, not when your own blood marked him, and not when his mark lingered on you. 

Mattheo pulled back slightly, looking at your state and the way your plush lips were parted as you stared at him, your eyes filled with the same desire he showed. 

Without warning, Mattheo grabbed your cut hand with the one resting on your stomach, his blood mingling with yours as he guided your hand to your neck, then down to your breasts, trailing the blood like a map. Before you could react to the sting of your hard nipple pressing against the cut, Mattheo moved faster, pulling your nipple—now smeared with your own blood—into his mouth. 

You let out a loud moan as you felt his tongue teasing the tips of your bloodied breasts, the taste of your blood on his tongue making him swirl around your breast more eagerly. The sensation only made him harder beneath his robes, each moan of his growing louder as he savored the taste of you. 

You were lost in the pleasure of his mouth, concentrated with the way his tongue lapped like a hungry animal. The way his hands pushed your now bloody breasts together enough for his head to dive between them as he continued to whisper praises, words of hunger. You didn’t hear nothing but the sounds of his mouth nor saw how he desperately reached for release, your body causing him to react out of character.

“Fuck...” he murmured, his hand releasing the softness of your skin as he reached down towards his pants. Fast, uncoordinated, he released his cock from the restraints, his bloody hands wrapping around his cock that dripped with precum. His movements grew faster, driven by the growing intensity of the taste of blood on his tongue.

You looked down, catching a glimpse through the small crease of his neck as he dragged his palm over his hard cock while sucking on your nipples. You couldn’t help but moan louder, your bloody hand gripping his shoulders as you tried to ignore how your body was responding—the wetness between your legs that you knew he could feel. 

“Your tits…”Mattheo moaned even louder, dragging a moan from your lips in response. Fuck, he was so close.

“Fuck, your blood tastes so fucking good.” He moaned louder, and as he sucked harder on your nipples, his mouth closing around the bud tighter. Your chest was now covered in his bites, the marks of Mattheo Riddle, almost like a sign of ownership. Your body quivered against his hold, rubbing pathetically against him as you felt the tingle flutter in your stomach. You were close, lost in the daze, you had no idea whether it was from pleasure or the lost of blood—or both. You were desperately clinging to his shoulders, his name falling from your lips like a spell.

The hold on his length tightened in his hand, and he came instantly. Another hoarse moan escaped his throat, and he pulled away from your chest for a moment, gasping for air. You gripped onto his shoulders once more, your eyes rolling to the back of your head. So sudden, so quick you fell against his hold as your body convulsed with pleasure.

Mattheo leaned against you, allowing himself a moment to relax. But when he noticed the blood still running down your throat from where he had placed your hand, he couldn’t help but let out a growl. He yanked your hair back harshly, making you gasp and exposing your throat, your scream barely escaping as he did so. 

“Mattheo…!” You tried to speak, but he didn’t care; he never did. He only pushed you further against him, your nipples pressed against his bare chest as he licked your throat, letting out another groan as he tasted the metallic flavor again. His tongue traced the line of your throat, dragging the blood up to your chin, before he licked it off obscenely, making you sigh at the sensation. 

Mattheo’s hand in your hair tightened, and in one swift motion, he turned you onto your back, pulling your hair even harder as your back arched against him. “Open your mouth,” he commanded, an order you immediately understood. You obeyed without hesitation, and before you could react, he spat into your mouth and thrust his tongue inside, kissing you deeply.

The kiss was rough and erotic, the fire burning from the inside making it impossible to avoid it. You could taste your own blood on his tongue, and it only made your cunt wetter, the intensity overwhelming. It was too much—more than you’d ever imagined.

You had pictured moments like this, where you and Mattheo would kiss, tasting each other’s tongues, but this was different. It wasn’t the fantasy you had dreamed of; it was raw, wild, and rougher than anything you could have ever anticipated. His teeth clashed with yours, and your tongue tangled with his, as he unleashed his most primal side. He was giving you a taste of the part of you he had consumed, and you were trapped, just as you always would be.

You didn’t care about the pain in your scalp, only the hand that held you.

Mattheo’s hands were rough, touching everything he could. His mouth marking you over and over as he swallowed every small noise you released. He was warm, too warm, a sting feeling in your mouth as he sucked and bit into your lips, the softness of your skin tethering as his mouth was once again filled with the sweetness of your blood.

He was about to lose his mind.

Mattheo sighed against your now split lip, “Stop me… Tell me to stop, and I will.” He wouldn’t; you both knew it.

You held him against you tighter; you were already too deep into him—all you wanted was to devour him, mark him enough to show everyone he belonged to you, only you. You wanted to inflict a pain he would never forget, a pain similar to the pain he caused you, so you did. Your hands wrapped around his neck, your mouth tracing his lips, then his cheeks, then suddenly the warmth of his neck. Mattheo gripped you hard; he made no sudden movement, anxiously awaiting your motive. You bit into his neck, sucking the flushed skin as your teeth marked him with the same strength he did to you. 

Another soft flow came into your mouth, you gasped, the metallic taste odd in your mouth but enough to send your heart thundering.

Mattheo whimpered, his dominant facade slipping as he sickly enjoyed the way you took control. You were so sweet, so delicate—you were completely the opposite. The idea he corrupted you twisted a sick, powerful thought in his brain. You were his. 

Your tongue reached towards his mouth again, finding yourself eye to eye with the man you wanted nothing more than to control. “Don’t ever stop; I need you.”

Mattheo grinned, his lips bloody, his brown eyes becoming dark as he suddenly pushed you towards the runes that glowed against your body. The symbols glowed, vibrating with the blood that dripped onto it. As he stood over you, he wished to capture the moment forever. You looked so fucking pretty.

He leaned over, his knees staining with the blood smeared against the cold tiles. His fingers moved quickly, desperately. He watched as your body spoke to him, reacting to every touch. Your breasts covered in his marks, his blood and yours on them that caused his cock to twitch violently.

He wanted more than the taste of your breasts; he wanted to taste the juices that gathered in the silk of your panties. He wanted to feel the way your cunt twitched and throbbed against his mouth, and damn, did he want nothing more than to have you fuck yourself on his tongue. The sweetest angel from Hogwarts all displayed for him, to hell with the ritual; now he just wanted to swallow you whole. 

Without warning, he hoisted your legs onto his shoulders with an almost violent urgency, a deep moan escaping his lips as he leaned closer to your wet pussy. The intoxicating scent filled his senses, making his bloodied hand tighten around your thigh, gripping it as if commanding you to choke him; a command you had no intention of disobeying.

Mattheo looked at your face, the dried blood around your parted lips, your cheeks flushed from everything he was doing to you, and your dilated pupils watching him anxiously. “You’re so fucking beautiful,” he murmured, and you instantly bit your lip. Fuck, he was about to get hard again. 

“Please, I need you, Mattheo,” you begged, rubbing your hips desperately, trying to get closer to his flushed face. You needed his mouth, and he was more than willing to be a good friend and give you exactly what you wanted. 

“No need to beg like a slut, sweetheart,” he said, moving closer to your pulsing cunt, the light from the dunes making your wetness glisten even more. You held your breath as his warm breath ghosted over your slick folds. “I’m eager to give you what you want,” he murmured, leaning even closer, his nose brushing against your arousal as he took in your scent. Just as you were about to beg him to do something, his tongue was quicker—teasing, tasting, and finally giving in to the need to lick you.

Mattheo followed his instincts and hunger, his palms gripping your thighs even tighter, leaving bloodstained marks on your skin just as he had on the rest of your body. The sting of his own cut burned with the pressure, but he didn’t stop, sliding his hands to your hips as his tongue moved swiftly against your folds, savoring and memorizing every inch of you.

You could feel Mattheo’s cheeks pressed against your thighs as he buried himself in your pussy, suffocating himself in your scent and taste. He mentally begged some higher power to let him one day die like this—only after his hunger was completely satisfied. Your back arched, heat swirling in your stomach as Mattheo licked your pussy with reckless desperation.

He was ravenous, savoring every part of you, and when your nails dug into his scalp, he let out another growl, pushing himself even deeper between your legs, making you moan even louder.

“Fucking yes, sweetheart,” he murmured against your pussy, sucking harder as your cries of pleasure filled the room. “Keep moaning like a slut, keep saying my name.” He bit down on your flesh, making you moan even louder, your legs trembling around him. He chuckled darkly, the vibrations of his laughter sending shocks through your body and making you cry out even more.

Fuck the ritual, fuck the power—the only power he craved was the power he held over you.

“Mattheo,” you moaned even louder, rocking your hips against his face as your fingers tangled in his hair, pushing him closer. “Right there, oh my—!” you cried out, feeling him lose himself between your legs, consumed by his thoughts and the blood still staining his lips.

Mattheo’s fast, steady movements continued, his almost feral tongue lapping at your cunt as his hands roamed your body. He could feel his cock harden at the sound of your sweet moans. Fuck, the taste of your blood mingled with your arousal was divine—almost too much for him to bear. 

He continued kissing your clit, desperate to savor your full taste, his tongue messily exploring your folds, drinking in every drop he could. All you felt in the moment was him. The sounds muffled as if underwater. Your fingers dug into his scalp, causing him to flick his tongue against your bud faster, his fingers circling it, his grin plastered with pride as he heard you cry loudly.

“Such a pretty one you are,” he muttered, his words slurring into the juices of your cunt.

You only released a jumble of words, your bare back arching as you squirmed beneath him. You were on the edge, and you could feel it—both of you could. The anticipation was electric, and you were both eager for the release. All he wanted was to make you cum.

“Come on, sweetheart,” he murmured against your folds, the scent of your cunt making him dizzy. “Come for me.” No sooner had the words left his mouth than you let out a final scream, the orgasm hitting you hard as your body arched, feeling your cum dripping from your pussy.

Mattheo groaned against your cunt once more, lapping at your release as he lost himself in your flavor. Quickly, he grabbed your cut hand, spreading its blood over your pussy to mix with the cum. When he felt it was enough, he ran his tongue over your folds, savoring the metallic taste of blood combined with the sweet remnants of your orgasm, only stopping when not a drop remained, and you pushed him away.

The runes still flickered on the ground, glowing brighter with the smell of your release in the air. Blood stained both your bodies, marking each other, marking the new connection between you that neither of you wanted to escape. Mattheo stood there, watching you, his brown eyes observing, shining with pride watching your state. His eyes traced the blood on your skin, lingering on the cut on your hand, before meeting your eyes again. 

“We didn’t finish the ritual,” you managed to say, your voice soft, timid once again compared to the wildness you held as you let Mattheo control you, your body still shaking from one of the best orgasms you ever experienced.

Mattheo’s smirk grew, just a little as he continued to look at the mess he had done. “It’s fine, sweetheart. We can always try again.”

He was right; after all, friends helped each other.

© 𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚝₂₀₂₄ — 𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚍𝚘 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚜𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚖𝚢 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚔 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚎𝚕𝚜𝚎.

— please be nice, it’s 4 am it probably has some mistakes!

likes and reblogs are appreciated 🫶🏻

also a big thank you for my favorite beta readers @earth4angels & @astrxq , without them i couldn’t write all this!! i love you both off you forever

venting: sometimes, i hate english because my hard lines in portuguese don’t make sense and seem so repetitive :(

[mcytegg]

as much as i Hated cringeduos relationship pre atlas, i do respect that derap does genuinely care abt pangi deeply. like idk if people realize that the reason derap was so upset at subz was specifically bc he killed pangi.

like zam may have been unsettled by subz suddenly killing a peaceful player in front of him in general idk, but for derap i am almost certain that he was upset bc subz killed pangi specifically bc i garuntee u he wouldnt have cared even a bit if it was like kab, 4c, woogie, jepexx, etc unless zam showed he cared. in fact, caring for pangi is the only thing derap seems to be firm on and smt he wont change regardless of zams opinion on the matter bc pangi is one of the very few people he wants to protect on the server

one of his biggest reasons for not wanting to team w pangi was bc he knows pangi is a peaceful player who doesnt want to fight, so he didnt want to drag pangi into conflicts that would only end up w him suffering or dying for simply being associated w derap. he seemed to completely stop trusting ash, one of two people he called a day 1, the Moment he found out ash tried to kill pangi. like yes the trust was already faltering bc ash lied to him for no reason but he still wanted to talk to him and figure things out before making his decision but that went out the window when he found out abt the pangi thing.

and like as weird as it was of derap to invite pangi (repeatedly btw) to zaun despite already agreeing w zam that they wouldnt be inviting anyone and to lie saying he never invited pangi, it wasnt solely to make mapicc look bad or to make zaun look better. its also bc he is dogshit at communicating his own desires and needs, and i dont think he Wanted to admit that he disagreed w zam. that he wanted to invite pangi to zaun, that he WANTS pangi to be w him. to be with them.

which is like, it ties into deraps deeper issues w insecurity and struggles w direct communication despite scolding zam for his struggles w it bc he acts like he is selfish nd that he has these expectations of zam but he always puts zams opinions and wants above his own at the end of the day. always. if he had ASKED, if he'd just talked to zam and expressed how much it meant to him to have pangi at zaun, zam would have been fine w it!! he doesnt seem aware of just how close derap is w pangi past knowing pangi is one of three people derap trusts entirely, but he cares for derap and i think he wouldve accepted it if derap truly expressed that he wants pangi there.

but he didnt. he lied. bc hes scared to ask for what he wants, hes scared that asking for anything from zam in a direct way will drive him away and w him already feeling like he cant possibly have a place next to zam when zam already has someone he seems to want by his side, hes doing what he thinks he "needs" to in order to stay w zam as long as he can even if he feels like zam leaving him is inevitable.

and honestly i can only see this being solved if zam is able to notice and talk abt it w him bc derap will never do it himself. even before zam and atlas, his manipulative and unfair way of treating pangi was a result of his own refusal to communicate bc him requiring pangi to prove himself trustworthy time and time again in increasingly drastic ways was him wanting to continue clinging to pangi but struggling to do so w his paranoia, trust issues, and general insecurity. bc no!! asking someone for hearts to prove their trust is Not communication. confronting them and accusing them of not caring abt u nd making them prove their care so many times before u believe they actually do is not communcation 😭

[eurydicees]

oh dont apologise i loved your essay 😭 and i 100% agree with everything. Theres such a innate theme of choices and consequences in wicked the musical and its so fascinating to me how choices made by all the characters have such profound consequences at the end. And fiyero’s choices are no different in the way they alter the trajectory of multiple characters.

He is really the only one i can think of who sacrifices everything for elphaba and does it all willingly. How do you like elphaba and then dislike the one character who was ready to give up his whole life and everything that came with it for her 😭

Twitter is very binary in that regard honestly, and its such a shame that they miss out on some pretty interesting character analysis about their favourite characters bc they decide to be so rigid and weird about other characters who had an impact on their faves. Couldnt be me lol, making multiple threads about a character you hate. I also think something else is at play here but dont wanna say it publicly lol but given your other responses i think you’d probably agree.

And yes totally agree about dividing the film in two parts - i can only hope the film watchers stick around for part 2 and see fiyero’s whole arc

thanks for the ask! also i wrote another fiyero ted talk. if i were like charles dickens or whoever and i was getting paid by the word to write about fiyero, i could be so goddamn rich btw.

anyways, choices and consequences!!!!! like that's the whole thing!!!!!!! and the way our choices affect and change other people!!!! fiyero isn't an exception to any of that!!!!

you're so right that fiyero is truly the one who makes the ultimate sacrifices for elphaba. like glinda loves elphaba, she absolutely does. but she isn't able to take on the work and life that elphaba chooses in defying gravity.

when it comes to the things that are most important to her, glinda prioritizes comfort and reputation over, like, morality and principle. and the thing about glinda is that she actively makes this choice. she chooses not to go with elphaba. she wants elphaba to succeed, but she's not brave enough to join her. in order for glinda to find the bravery to take up the work elphaba starts, she has to lose everything that actually matters. and she has to be complicit in her own losing of those things.

fiyero loves elphaba to the point of sacrificing all of those things that glinda can't resist. the day with the lion cub, and elphaba's general influence on him, changes fiyero profoundly in a similar way that she affects glinda, but fiyero finds the bravery to act on all of that. the difference is that he doesn't get the choice to go with her until mid-act 2 after wonderful.

in thank goodness, there's that one exchange between fiyero and glinda where they say smth like "you just can't resist all of this" "well who could?" "you know who could, and who has." and he's talking about elphaba, he's talking about how she had all the love she ever wanted at the tip of her fingers when she met the wizard, and she chose to let it go because she saw the ugly parts of the wizard's world. and this exchange is so clearly boiling it down to "elphaba resisted the temptation of being universally/publically loved and glinda did not." which tbh is something so in character for a person who has never had that, and a person who has always had that and thus doesn't want to leave it behind.

ok i was going somewhere with this but i don't remember where. just. fiyero isn't a perfect character. and for SURE the choice to erase gelphie's romantic subtext from the book when adapting it for broadway was an act of homophobia. but if we're just looking at musical canon, fiyero is brave enough to give up everything first to save elphaba, then to go with her, and then to protect her. and so-called elphaba stans don't think that's good enough. which is CRAZY to me.

also like. he's literally not the comphet love interest. sorry you didn't mention that but i keep seeing people throw those words around and like that's not what's happening here guys. elphaba loves him. she sings a whole song about it. multiple, even.

comphet implies that she mistakenly thinks she loves him because society has molded her into believing that's how she should be (fyi if anyone's experiencing that, it's glinda but i digress). elphaba, who notably has never been able to comply to the mold society makes for women, because she's never been pretty white woman enough to be afforded a place in that society? you mean that elphaba?

guys elphaba just...loves him. that's all there is to it. she loves him when she realizes he's more than he thinks he is, more than the airs he puts off. she loves him when she feared he might have changed, she loves him when he proves he did change--for the better. she loves him when he sticks by her, when he chooses her. she loves him when he's a fucking SCARECROW. ("go ahead, touch, i don't mind" "you're still beautiful" lives in my head rent fucking free).

when she has her breakthrough "okay. fuck this world that has never been good to me, if you want me to be wicked, i'll be wicked" moment, it's because she loses fiyero. she gets betrayed by nessa, and she fails dillamond, and she loses fiyero--and it's then that she loses sight of what good she had begun fighting for. it's a love for fiyero that drives most of no good deed (broadway songs of all time btw). like sorry but you dont sing someone's name like that if you don't love them. that's just musical theatre rules. trust me i was a theatre major.

anyways. sorry for that detour. back to the point. twitter treats everything as so black and white which is crazy because this is a revisionist musical about how evil isn't black and white. like?????? whatever. imagine being so bitter about a character you dislike that you want to change fundamental pieces of your favorite character so that he isn't relevant.

look. gelphie is great doomed yuri and i support that so hard. but dont try to tell me fiyero isn't deeply important to elphaba and to understanding elphaba's character. tbh the love triangle here isn't fiyero choosing between glinda and elphaba. it's more like elphaba choosing between glinda and fiyero and what either of them represent to her (glinda and working within the system, or fiyero, and abandoning it).

and hot take maybe but like ultimately--as someone who has never been conventionally accepted, as someone who has been hunted down to be murdered, as someone who has been the victim of a smear campaign and propaganda against her character/intentions, all of which was in part driven by glinda--she was always going to choose fiyero.

i respect gelphie shippers, i do. in another world, maybe one without the wizard, they could've been so happy together. i'm with y'all. but given canon, even if all others fall, i will be the last fiyero defender standing. god i hope movie-only fans watch part 2 and at least learn to RESPECT him. at the bare minimum. please. please. please.

[irrealisms]

hi! yr probably not lookin for asks anymore, but. what's your lifesteal elevator pitch? i know absolutely nothing abt it or any of the folks on the server except the vague things i've absorbed frm reading yr analysis as it crosses my dash, but it compels me, etc.+ also merry christmas! <33 🎄🌟

good news: i am always looking for asks

bad news: my parents DID go to sleep and i was able to wrap presents and put them beneath the tree and so on, so i wasn't going to do more asks tonight

good news again: i actually already have a lifesteal pitch. in a google doc. bc i'm normal

the pitch does assume you're basically already into mcrp and just curious about lifesteal in specific BUT we went to dsmp together so this works out

I really love shitty little tryhards causing problems via impressive feats of minecraft, and lifesteal is full of those. if you like people being good at minecraft, I really recommend lifesteal--in s2, clownpierce was top 50 worldwide at crystal pvp, and now he's washed and in s6 there are 2-3 (depending on who you ask) lifestealers who are better than him at pvp (admittedly maybe not at crystal); in s4, there's some stuff that's impressive in ~vanilla (eg parrot wins a 1v1 while on one heart) and some stuff that's impressive through exploits/social stuff (eg a group of people use a glitch + social engineering to get /op and prove to mojang that the glitch is a security issue that needs patched). every season is like this! lifestealers have backdoored the server 3 seasons in a row (s3-5). for a more recent weird Lifestealer Behavior, rekrap and jumper filled in every end portal room and built new fake ones to make it look like the world glitched and generated without them. lifesteal is weird and constantly coming up with new weird yet impressive things to do. a lot of stuff that's currently banned on lifesteal (F3+A, pie ray) are things i only learned were possible from lifesteal. (on the flip side i'd say: if you are not into shitty little tryhards making weird impressive clickbait, you probably won't like lifesteal, although you may still like hearing about it from time to time.)

related to them being shitty little tryhards causing problems: the rules are...more of a suggestion. getting around the rules, and hiding from the server owner and/or other players that you're doing so, is often part of the fun of lifesteal! (see also the thing where i mentioned that it's been backdoored three seasons in a row.) if that's intriguing: check it out. if not: once again, you have been warned.

lifesteal absolutely has lore and some people roleplay on it, there is nonzero c/cc divide, but it's more like traffic life than, say, late dsmp--it's fully improv, not scripted, and even more than traffic life it is genuinely adversarial. you can sometimes be confident that someone is in character but you can never be sure if someone is out of character, on lifesteal-- things like "going to someone's house irl to turn off their computer" or "lying about your homework/school/sleep schedule" or "changing your entire discord layout so that when you DM someone they think you're someone else" or "claiming you need their footage of an event for your video when actually you just want to see where their spawn point is" are all things that have been done on lifesteal that are considered fair game! everything on lifesteal is real; sometimes this goes well, sometimes it doesn't, but both are interesting to see imo because they are real

partially for this reason and partially for other reasons, lifesteal is fascinating to me as a piece of unique storytelling? a lot of mcyt is doing interesting things with its medium and being improv, lifesteal's not fully unique in that, but definitely if you like that you might like lifesteal. along with the improv, there's the fact that many lifestealers lie about what actually happened in their videos (comparing different videos with the vods, or in some cases with "what people say in various vods" when events weren't streamed, gives some fascinating insights imo--how do people frame their stories? how honest are they? what do they blatantly lie about, what do they gloss over or omit, what do they include in full? who, if anyone, do they see as the heroes or villains? whose videos agree with each other, and whose present a totally different story?), and the fact that conflict about "where do we want the story to go next, what do we think would be an interesting video/the best ending" is often the driving motive for in-character wars and conflicts! if you're interested at all in lifesteal and storytelling, check out barrier blocks part 2 by @mering/@myrmica, which is a deep dive on eclipse federation and the end of lifesteal s4 (those are my special guys); it dips into some academic game studies and it's really, really good. i genuinely cannot recommend it highly enough. (part one is also real good for non-lifesteal-specific discussion of mcrp!)

if you want a more specific plot summary (esp of s4) and/or "how do i actually, like, watch this" (of any seasons): hmu! but that's my pitch. also, read barrier blocks

[canisbrutus]

Hey I really like your headcanons !!! What’s your view on the main three’s relationship with each other?

why thank ya, color me flattered lol. let me see.. this will be Long

Gary & Jimmy 🐍🐕

tragic doomed toxic yaoi etc etc

ultimately they're two sides of the same coin, opposite eachother in a way. both are simultaneously victims and perpetrators, though they differ in motive and response

while jimmy might be too daft to realize, gary knows this and absolutely hates it.

like a fine mix of admiration jealousy and spite

jimmy meanwhile is just fed up his bullshit

but at the same time he doesnt *hate* him.

jimmy doesnt really hate anyone tbh hes just easily pissed off

after the betrayal jimmy is annoyed at best and personally hurt at worst. but he can shrug it off with ease. he doesnt hold grudges

which is yet another thing that drives gary nuts

before the betrayal though. jimmy made gary feel Weird. jimmy's too genuine. too upfront. too honest. Too Real.

he took their friendship seriously. very very few people willingly stood beside gary, minus petey who we'll get to later

and that made him ? scared. confused even. absolutely nobody could be equal with him. even if he liked their relationship

anyway. this vvv

Petey & Gary 🐇🐍

petey primarily hung around gary because he was familiar and it was better than being alone, yes.

but also, these two go back a fair ways. like elementary.

as such, petey knows more about gary than he would like him to.

gary has been through a Lot. he's also Lost a Lot.

petey is one of the few 'things' he has left that really means anything to him.

or. he was, anyway. before the betrayal

shortly after the fight in the pit he got in an argument with gary. cut him deep where it hurts. mentioned something he maybe shouldnt have.

got beaten bloody and thrown away. and gary devolved from there.

despite this petey doesnt really hold it against him either

there's some guilt to him. perhaps a bit of self loathing.

but he couldnt approach gary on his own. his nerves were too shot.

sure gary threw his friend jimmy to russell. and sure gary's been picking on him for years at this point. but to beat the shit out of him, his best friend, after he's stayed with him for just about a decade?

he couldnt trust him again

he hardly trusted him to begin with honestly, gary had been beating him down and making sure he knew whatever prior cuts he made at him didnt hurt in the slightest before.

thankfully jimmy isnt as sensitive as he is.

~~~~~

Jimmy & Petey 🐕🐇

poor kids. two peas in a pod thrown under the bus

petey may have been apprehensive of jimmy at first, due to his general attitude and knack for mayhem.

but as time passed jimmy showed his true colors and proved to be a Good person (if prone to manipulation)

it wasnt long before petey started to trust him more than gary. and after the betrayal, jimmy was all he really had.

(admittedly he did try to join the nerds but earnest called him a faggot and said no)

petey isnt meek. he isn't soft. his venom is often dwarfed by everyone else's, but he still holds a rage. even if he keeps it inside. part of him did want to get back at gary. but another part still felt concern for his old friend spiraling like mad. even moreso considering he pushed him the way he did, with that argument mentioned.

im saying this ^ bc he felt an obligation to advise jimmy on what to do, especially regarding gary. hoping he could get him calmed tf down so they could go back to normal, as friends, again.

but they werent particularly close. kinda like business partners. jimmy blowing him off half the time didnt help matters.

but again. petey didnt have anyone else.

just a poor guy caught in the middle of their homoerotic rivalry

~~~~~

i have so many lores for these stupid cunts.

anyway reminder that my inbox is open for requests in general. woof

[miriammctroi]

I still see some people wish they made a Marauders TV show instead of a new Harry Potter show. But you know what, I'm just gonna say it: I'm glad they're making a new HP series.

I'm glad they do that because it will be easy to ignore. We don't need it. I don't give a flying fuck about Golden Trio anymore tbh. Besides we still have the rather recent movies - they don't need a remake. There won't be anything new in that show, it will just be the bigotry straight bitch fest JK Rowling dreams about.

With the video game, it was kind of hard (for me) not to buy it bc it looks great and being a part of a world that used to give you such comfort as a child seems like a dream.

If she made a Marauders TV show that would be the worst-case scenario - all of a sudden there would be an actual Marauders canon, a new fandom and new fandom wars, suddenly they could argue about a canon. We come here bc there is no canon. There is no JKR fucking everything up.

If she produced a Marauders show we'd get: white James, obsessive & borderline toxic Jilly, James-bashing bc JKR is in love with Snape, one-dimensional characters, evil & bullied Peter, black&white relationship between Sirius and Regulus, weird love triangle story between James, Lily and Remus or James, Lily and Sirius, BlacKinnon or girly Marlene - or worse, both! No Slytherin Skittles, Dumbledore the good, etc etc etc

So, yeah, I'm glad she does the HP series instead of touching the Marauders bc it will be so easy to ignore & not to watch, it can tank. I hope it will be a flop and I hope she puts a lot of money into it and loses all of it. At least we are left alone and can continue making everything as queer and diverse as we want to.

[doodler16]

I was talking about this with my friends and honestly? I am kind of nervous of how they're gonna handle Stella's backstory. Ik she's meant to be abusive, but looking on it, saying that she's inspired by Beatrice Horseman, they kind of already have like an angle they could go with her. Stella, at her age of 35+, seems to act very childish. Like, good Lord. She pouted and said "But I wanna kill him so bad!!!" at Andre (I'm just shortening it to that bc whatever), and want things her way right then and there. Everyone reacts to abuse differently, but they could go with her being abused so much she was that- y'know how ppl are like mentally "stuck" at an age due to severe trauma? Why not go for something like that with her? I mean, the girl was engaged at a VERY young age and had to give birth at 18-years-old for the Goetias. Not to mention, they could something with Andre. People tend to forget sibling abuse exists. Minus the creepy incest intones, Andre prattles off the only good thing about Stella is her looks. Like maybe Andre made it to where Stella was reliant on him. Many abusers do that. Look, I'm just saying that if they have time in s2 to go over everyone's backstories, is just weird. And they can show how the cycle of abuse gets carried down from one generation to another. But we'll just have to see, I guess.

Vivziepop is going to fumble the backstory. I get being inspired by media but at same time why even bother watching Stella’s backstory when it’s directly tied and heavily inspired to Beatrice. I can just go back on Netflix and actually watch Beatrice’s backstory unfold.

Anon, just imagine a rip off version of Beatrice’s backstory that will not only completely miss the entire point but most likely will be black and white. I don’t think Vivziepop will even call out Andrealphus too. She already liked a tweet that he’s supposed to be acting straight to fit in or whatever is going on. 💀

[sociopathicartist]

First of all, Merry Christmas! Could you do a Sans (UT) x female reader spending Christmas together and alone?

Merry Christmas my friend! This is shorter bc it is Christmas and I am busy today, (sorry to everyone in my inbox rn, i hear you guys), but i wanted to get this out on the holiday :3

Sans always liked Christmas.

Before the monsters were freed, and Sans’ world was at first confined to just him and his brother, Christmas was an easier time to relax.

Sure, he had to go through the effort of convincing his babybone brother that somehow Santa did in fact make stops in the underground. If he could visit over a billion homes a night, who to say that he couldn’t also just zip-zap through the barrier and visit the monsters as well? And boy did Sans really put in the effort just to see the smile on his brother's face- even sprinkling flour on the floor around some boots that he found in the back of his closet when they first moved in, making it appear like the jolly guy had really came down their air-vents and into their house.

Yeah… Air vents were the best thing he could think of, they didn’t have a chimney or anything and Sans was sure that Papyrus would set up camp right by their front door if he was told that Santa came in that way.

It was a lot of work- but it was an easier time. Simpler. Just the two of them.

Not that he wasn’t happy whenever they went up to the surface and their big, estranged friend group began to have Christmas together every year (they finally got the day right after celebrating their first party in September… whoops). It was fun being around everyone, and he’d be a liar if he said that he didn’t enjoy the loudness and laughter that was brought as everyone ate food and opened up gifts.

But… He’d also be a liar if he said that he wasn’t relieved whenever he got to experience a quiet, calm Christmas morning with you after spending so many years having loud and chaotic ones with his friends.

He loved waking up next to you. Tracing his phalanges through your hair and across your face until you woke up and realized what day it was. If heaven was real- Sans was convinced he got an angel sent straight to him. At least that’s what he saw in you whenever you smiled. Or laughed. Or looked at him.

The quiet mornings on Christmas were now a bit quieter, and he liked that. He liked spending the calm moments with you, which he now had the indulgence of sleeping in since he no longer had to wake up early to play Santa. It was calm. Peaceful.

Plus, it wasn’t like he didn’t see his brother or friends. He still got all of that, but the two of you just spent the nice morning together until you felt like heading over to Toriel’s place.

Easy. He loved sitting with you on the couch as you both sipped coffee and exchanged cute gifts you got each other- he always looked forward to what weird ketchup-flavored thing you found for him, and he always looked forward to seeing your bright smile as you tore away the wrapping paper to what he got you.

He also loved getting to trace his hands up and down your back as you both watched a Christmas movie after opening up gifts and eating breakfast, the both of you looking like a singular unit with your matching pajamas. He didn’t care if it was the cliche, cringe couple's stuff, he liked it.

Everything was so… peaceful. He got to spend the quiet, enjoyable morning with you before the rest of the day with friends began. It was nice. It was easy to forget that the rest of the world was waiting for you and him and that tomorrow the both of you would have to deal with cleaning up the mess and trying to figure out where to put everything away.

But that was tomorrow! For now, he got to enjoy today with you. He loved knowing that it would be like this every year after this one.

[artistsfuneral]

usually I am not the biggest fan of pregnancy fics (personal reason) but I had a thought that just won't leave me alone

pregnant omega Lambert

and Aiden isn't with him at the begining of this fic bc they split ways for a while

because of the way his and Aiden's mutagens work together or some other reason, Lambert actually got pregnant, which very much should not be possible. a one in a million chance of a lifetime situation.

of course Lambert doesn't believe it at first - he was feeling weird and went to see a healer who told him the news - it should be absolutely impossible! but..... babies develope a heartbeat at around 5 weeks of the pregnancy..... and if he listens, if he really concentrates on listening Lambert can hear it

useless to say that he freaks the fuck out and then does the first thing that comes to his mind and storms to kaer morhen

its the middle of the year so Vesemir is of course so confused when Lambert comes running in and goes straight to the alchemy lab where he throws himself into research

it takes a week, a week of stressed out searching through old tombs and scribbling dow notes until he realizes that it's true

he knew before of course. but lambert is a man of science so he needs to see it with his own eyes, needs to understand how it could have happened to finally grrasp the concept of his pregnancy and when he does-

when he does he falls into Vesemir's arms and start crying - he is absolutely not prepared for this, he always liked children, always wanted his own kids, yes, but he is so overhwelmed by it all

he explains Vesemir everything they talk and talk and talk and Vesemir can hear it too, stronger already, that little heartbeat that matches Lambert's own

and then Lambert asks vesemir to find Aiden for him (he's too scared to leave KM in his state even if he would never admit it) even if he wants nothing more than to go and look for his alpha by himself, he has to think about more than just himself now and-

so Vesemir heads out and finds Aiden a fucking cat goddamn it Lambert, and it's all kinds of funnily awkward and Vesemir never really tells Aiden what is going on only that Lambert is at KM and needs him and

Aiden and Lambert reuniting Aiden and Lambert talking through the night Aiden and Lambert being so incredibly in love

also baby Witcher

[sparda-soully]

Disturbance of the Peace

Parents Fyolai x adopted, daughter! reader

Headups: Strictly PLATONIC with reader! Fyodor and Nikolai are husbands bc yes. Fyodor, Nikolai, and some other characters may be OOC so I apologize for that. Just silly fun with the Dostoevsky-Gogol Family!!

Just writing this to highlight the fluff, found family troupe and totally not bc my husband (ahem, Fukuzawa) was like that in the latest chapter 😇. Hope you enjoy this!!

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Sounds of water were dripping against the acrylic sink. Soon, a brushing noise was followed afterwards. In the mirror, a young girl — who looked about seven years old — was seen brushing her teeth with a light blue toothbrush. Her outfit was pajamas with tiny strawberries scattered across her pants. She carefully move her toothbrush back and forth in small strokes as to not damage her gums; father said to be careful after all!....Although papa highly encouraged her to do so as it was supposedly "fun". Yeah right.

Getting every nook and cranny of her teeth, she gathered water into a small cup, raising it to her lips. She tooked a gulp of water, swirling and gargling the water mixed with the toothpaste before spitting the fluid out. Then, filling her palms with the lukewarm water, she washed her face, relinquishing the sudden warmth. The faucet turned, shutting the water off. With her eyes closed, she fiddled her fingers around, trying to feel where she left her towel at. Upon reaching the area she left it at, her fingers didn't made any contact with the soft material.

——————

'...That's weird. I thought I put it here', you thought, finally opening your eyes. You ignored the wetness that was drenched on your face in favor of searching for your towel. Your e/c eyes stared at the marble countertop, blinking in confusion as the realization caught up to you. The towel where you originally placed it at was missing, making you utterly perplexed. "...Huh..?", you mumbled, standing there.

You were sure you placed it there; there was no way it disappeared! Unless if it was–. As if you finally caught on about the mysterious disappearance of your towel, a voice called behind you. "Why hello little dove! How is my favorite girl doin'?", an eccentric voice inquired. Turning around, you were greeted with your papa, Nikolai bending down at your height. His visible bluish grey eye pierced directly into your e/c eyes, seemingly staring into your soul.

"папа..?", you said his name which earn you a bigger smile. Frenzied, exotic laughter erupted from his lips, sharp teeth made its appearance. "Bingo! That's me", he cheered, still staring straight at you without blinking. His smile etched further on his face, stretching across cheeks until it finally reached its limit. The two of you maintained eye contact, not breaking it at all as if the two of y'all were cats quietly sneaking up upon your prey.

Silence loomed over the two of you until you decided to break it. "What are you doing here?", you asked, finally blinking which made you lose the game the two of you were silently engaged in. Hearing your question, your papa swiftly stand back up in a dramatic way. "Oh poor me! My own daughter doesn't want to see me, how utterly terrible! You don't care about your dear old dad? Who could've raise such monster", he whined, placing his hands over his heart as he wore a crestfallen expression.

"Eh? No! I mean–What are you doing back home early? You and отец were busy with Uncle Sigma and Grandpa with something", you mentioned. Immediately, Nikolai's expression shifted into a beaming one. "Well we're finished now! So come on and let's play some games. Ooo, how about Go Fish, Patty Cake? Or how about Stab the Jester? It's your favorite!", he sprouted game suggestions. Your papa was big on the idea of games, after all kids your age were supposed to enjoy their youth so here comes the introduction of games! Although, they all have his own little spin of his twisted mind especially that last one but we don't talk about that! That's for later.

Your eyes sparkled, practically beaming at the idea of playing your favorite game, Stabbing the Jester. You wished you could played but unfortunately, one you had school tomorrow and two you still have to find your lost towel. Giving your papa a sad smile, you slowly shook your head which made him have a confused look. His daughter never turned down his amazing ideas so why now?

"Sorry papa, but I have school tomorrow. You know, father will scold me and you if he catches us playing games this late at night", you explained, giving him an apologetic look. It was true, your father was strict and stern when it came to your studies, wanting you to sleep early and study to exceed your brilliant intelligence further. It was a significant contrast to your papa who was the whimsical, quirky parent that spoils their child rotted. "Ugh who cares what Fedya said? We'll keep it a secret, pinky promise!", he proposed, lifting his pinky and wiggling it in the air, eagerly encouraging you to entangled your pinky with his. As tempting as it was, you still didn't want to face your father's wrath.

Still, you shook your head which made Nikolai pouted, his eyes narrowing at your declination. "No thanks, I don't wanna deal with father's punishment. Besides I need to find my towel...", you gazed around, trying to search for your towel. Hearing that you were looking for your towel, Nikolai's face suddenly faltered into a cheeky, evil smirk. His teeth flashed at you as a glint of anticipation and excitement glimmered in his bluish eye. Uh oh. Before you could speak, he cuts you off with a big grin.

"Quiz time!", those two words made you mentally groaned to yourself. If he's doing one of his quiz, that means he has an answer to it. "Where do you think you put your towel at?", he inquired, putting his pinky finger down. He brought his hands behind his back, letting his black and white cape draped over him. A mischievous expression formed on his face, tugging his lips into a big smile. "It was on the counter but it's gone...so that means y-", before you could finished, your papa interrupted you.

"Ding Ding Ding! Did you say I used my ability? Well you're indeed correct my маленький ангел!", he spoiled the answer out of his own excitement that was surging within him. You sighed, already fed up with his antics. Glancing up at him, you gave him a look which made him chuckled. Nikolai was amused by your behavior; he wanted to spend time with you right now since he was practically gone by the moment you woke up because the Decay of Angels had a meeting all of a sudden. So, he'll do whatever it is to keep you and himself entertain, even if that meant preventing you from getting sleep.

You were about to ask him to give it back when you felt something soft patting your cheek. Averting your eyes to your right, you saw an orange portal with Nikolai's dark magenta glove grasping the towel. He gently wiped your wet face with slow strokes as if you were a delicate kitten. You noticed your papa's visible eye softened with a look of content and love swirling in them. It was a rare sight to see your papa like this, deep in a trance while gently taking care of you like any good parent would for their kids.

After he dried your face, he bop your nose, shooting a wink at you which made you giggle. He deactivated his ability, placing the towel back on the counter. Briskly, he scooped you into his arms, lifting you and tossing you up in the air. High pitched squeals and laughter escaped from you when you were latched in the air. As he threw you up in the air, he skillfully and efficiently moved out of the bathroom and into your bedroom while tossing you up and down like a ragdoll. It was a normal occurrence for you and your papa; yeah it wasn't ideal and was dangerous for numerous reasons but if you're happy and having fun, then he'll continued toss you in the air just for you to be a free bird spreading its wings and soaring through the air. This process repeated for some time, disturbing your sleep schedule.

It seems like that high pitched noises and laughter drawn another person's presence. Footsteps stride towards your bedroom with precise, fluent movement. A pale hand grasped your doorknob, turning it to the side before opening it fully. I guess the fits of excitement drowned the noise of someone coming in. "Y/n. Koyla", a monotone voice made you and your papa directed y'all's gaze towards the man standing by the doorway. Instantly, Nikolai stopped throwing you in the air, still carrying you in his arms. A surprised gaze washed over his face as your hands clutched your papa's two-toned jacket. Your heart skipped a beat, sweat dripped down your brow as you stared at your father in a look that children gave to their parents when they did something wrong.

Sharp, dark purple eyes glared at you, making you shy away from him. You buried your face into your papa's clothes, wrinkling his attire greatly. "Nikolai, why are you pestering our child with your foolish antics? It's passed her bed time", his thick Russian accent accentuate his sterness. His husband just blinked at his words, slightly pouting at his serious partner; readjusting you in his arms, he made sure you weren't fully looking at your father. "But Fedya! It's only 9:30 pm, and I haven't seen my favorite dove at all! Just let us have some father-daughter time for a bit", he whined, drastically swaying his body from side to side. Fydor just stared, unfazed by his actions or whiny voice. This was the man he choose to married...so of course he'll be used to his tomfoolery.

"No. She has school tomorrow", your father begins to sauntered towards you two. His long coat fell behind him with each stride he took. He gave Nikolai a look, but Nikolai still had you in his arms, refusing to give you to him. Your father sighs at the stubborn man. "Koyla, do you want her to be sleepy in class?", he asked, making him pondered. Eventually, he slowly shook his head no. Yes he was a deranged man but he still cared about your health! You were just a small dove, having lack of sleep could possibly hindered your performance of soaring through the sky, something he greatly feared. Finally acknowledging defeat, he gazed back at you, pulling your face off from his wrinkled buttoned up jacket.

"Ah I guess you're right, having a sleepy bird wouldn't be so good now will it? So it's time to return back to the nest for some proper rest!", he exclaimed with a smile returning back to his face. Nikolai carried you to your bed, ready to place you down and tuck you in, but your father interfered. "Koyla, you should go. I'll tuck her to bed", he asserted. Hearing his words, Nikolai felt shock that Fyodor suggested such thing; I mean, he should tuck you in, clearly he's the better parent when it came to "sleeping"....Or so he claims, in fact he isn't the ideal person of tucking a small child to bed without telling some stories that will leave them up at night.

"Eh, why not?! I'm perfectly capable of putting her to sleep!", he pulls you futher into his embrace, refusing to let you go. Of course he'll be on the offense side right now. "Remember the last time you tuck her into bed? You told her a story that made her have nightmares for a few days. She was forced to sleep in our room. I won't let that happen again", Fyodor's remark made Nikolai shot a glare at him.

"Hey it was funny!". "Not to her though".

You knew that your papa will go back and forth with your father over this small issue, so you tugged on his jacket, causing him to averted his attention to you. "Papa, I want отец to tuck me to bed", your comment made Nikolai sulk. You wanted your father more than him? Haha! What a funny joke...right? "Oh how cruel of you! You just broke my heart into millions of pieces! Such a ferocious mouth you have. So you would rather hang out with your father than me?", he begins his drama cries, hoping you'll fall for it. Unfortunately for him, you were so smart for your age that the guilt tripping didn't fazed you. "No, I didn't say that. I just want father to tucked me to bed", you clarified, earning you a huff. "Fine...But just know I'm getting you out of school early tomorrow!", he declared, staring directly at you which made you smiled a bit. "No Nik-". "Alright папа! Let's play tons of games tomorrow!", you beamed in excitement with the thought of getting picked up early.

Fyodor wanted to say no, but with the two of y'all already chatting about plans tomorrow, he decided to let this slide just this once. His eyes still remained on his husband, urging him to say his goodbyes just so they could talk alone. Seeing his husband's hidden message, Nikolai quickly tossed you up in the air one last time before pulling you into a bone crushing embrace which made it harder for you to breath. Sensing the sudden lack of air you had, he loosen his clutches around you. "Ah goodnight my little angel! Sleep tight and let song birds drifted you to sleep", with his final goodnight, he ruffles your hair a bit before giving you to your father. He gave one more look at his loving family before exiting out of the room leaving you two alone.

You were now in your father's arms, glancing up at him with a glimpse of wonder and nervousness shining in your eyes. Dark purple eyes stared back at you as his grip around him was gentle compare to your papa's. You wanted to say something but couldn't because of your thoughts blaring and tainting your mind with negativity about your father's disappointment of not following his words. As if he knew the internal conflict stirring within you, he spoke up. "It's alright, маленький ангел", he reassured you, slowly placing you down on the soft mattress. He pulled the blanket over you, letting the new found warmth consumed you. Still, you felt bad that you went against your father's words. Your eyes were glue on the dark red blanket, fingers firmly gripping the cozy material.

"...I know but still. I could've told papa I was heading to bed, instead I gotten distract", your mouse like voice made him hum. You didn't get an instant response from your father which made you more tense. Will he have an outburst just like others before when you didn't follow their orders?...No, you shouldn't think about them, they didn't matter now. You have father and papa now and that's all that matters, you're safe.

"Like I said, it's alright. There's no need to fret over something minor like that. You're just a child. I don't expect you to be sharp with your time", he raised his hand and carefully patted your head. The unexpected affection made you staggered, unable to process what just happen. You calmed your breaths, letting yourself relaxed at the sudden weight bestowed on your head. It felt nice to endured, experienced even especially since your father wasn't a man who displayed affection often. His reassureness and touch seemingly eased you down enough that your worries begin to leisurely slip away from your mind and heart.

"However, that doesn't mean I'll let this slide though", he reprimanded which you expected. Your father was the strictest out of your family, but he means well; he has his own way of showing that he cares and one of them was being strict. "You'll be accompanying me after school. There you will write and speak in Russian as well as Ukrainian and you must perform them in front of me. Do you understand?", his expression never faltered from his neutral look. He maintained his respectful composure and spoke in a professional, authoritative manner that accentuated his place as a parent.

You listened with keen ears, indulging his words carefully. "Mhm, I understand, father", you muttered with a small nod. Finally, you spared a glimpse at your father's dark purple eyes. It was refreshing seeing him again; the calm voids of his eyes made you feel better. His eyes told so much more than his words and body language. Concern clouded his eyes, yet his body posture was straight and firm as if nothing happened. The phrase, "Eyes don't lie", truly can described who your father was.

"Y/n, I'm not angry at you", he adds again, hoping those words go through that thick skull of yours. "You went along with Koyla's antics because you missed him. You missed us and I apologize for not spending much time with you lately", he brushed the strands away from your face so he could see your expression. Your eyes shot opened with your lips agape. At first, you couldn't speak due to this but alas, words finally spilled from your mouth. "It's okay, отец. Work has been keeping you and papa busy", you said.

You never knew what your dads did for work as it wasn't your business. Although, you visit their supposed based before and sat in your father's lap as he did some stuff on his computer. Sometimes, your grandpa will take you away and make the Hunting Dogs watched you while he and your family do some...work. "How about I'll take you to one of those new cafe that recently opened up? The one you keep pestering us about", he asked which made you immediately deepen your gaze on him. "REALLY!? You'll take me?", you tossed the blanket off of you, now sitting up on your knees. Eyes sparkled in anticipation, waiting for his answer.

Chuckles erupted from him due to your outburst. "Of course. It'll be you and I. I'll sent Koyla to do something with Sigma", he said, making you more excited. It looked like you were about to burst any minute with enthusiasm fueling your body. "But you need to go to sleep. You have school tomorrow", being reminded of school, you sulked. You didn't want to go to that dreadful place with a bunch of average kids; you were much better than them evident to your straight A's on your report cards and test. You wanted to hang out with your family, but it looks like that was only possible after school and on weekends. Oh well, at least you were gonna be having much fun with your parents this week!

Fyodor begins to tuck you in again much to your disappointment. The clock on your wall read 9:42, about a good 12 minutes has passed since your small scolding happened. When your Russian father pulled the blacket over your small body, he was about to leave when your fingers gripped his white shirt. "Hm? What is it?", he looked back at you with a confused look. "Can you read me a bed time story...?", you gave him your best puppy dog eyes. "But it's passed your bed time-". "Pleassssseeee", you pleaded, still tugging on his shirt relentlessly. With a sigh, he turned around, sauntering back towards you.

This action made your lips curled upwards. You let go of his shirt, pulling the blanket further on you. Fyodor headed towards your book shelf, scanning at each book before landing on one of them that caught his eye. He pulled it out, staring at the cover as he walked back towards you. Pulling out a chair, he sat down in a close yet far away distance. "Is this good?", he showed you the book. You observed the book with wonder and interest and with a smile, you nod.

Getting a confirmation, he read off the title and author, crediting them before opening the book. Soon, the once quiet air was filled with a thick Russian accent. The way he pronounced each words gave a calming effect as if soothing you to sleep. Flipping through page after page, he read each line with clarity and sharpness. His quiet yet soothing voice was making you droopy. You felt yourself gradually shifting back and forth to the dream world and the real world. Alas, your eyelids touched each other, making your eyelashes act like closed gates. Small snores escaped your mouth and you finally succumb to a deep slumber.

And as soon as your father said those fairytale words, you were completely knock out. You nuzzled against your blanket, seeking its warmth with great possessiveness. Fyodor's lips twitched into a small smile; he closed the book, standing up before returning the book back onto its original position on the shelf. He slide the chair back to its place by your table, and he loomed over you. Seeing how peaceful and innocent you look, a soft, tender glint glimmered in his eyes. You were just a child after all of this, a child in this God forsaken world. After everything that happened to you, you still acted like a child regardless of your past.

He swore he'll changed this world by completing his goal: a world without ability users. He will carried out God's will and fulfilled his dream to ensure his daughter's innocence and prevent losing his husband. Bending down, he kissed your forehead before reciting a little prayer to you. He stood up, fixing up your blanket to make sure you were warm enough. He strolled towards the door, hands already on the doorknob. He took one last glimpse at your sleeping figure. "Goodnight, маленький ангел", he muttered, turning the lights off before exiting out of your room and closing the door behind him.

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Merry Christmas y'all! Hope you all are having an amazing Christmas! And if yall don't celebrate it, then Happy Holidays! ^ ^

I just wanted to write something Bungo Stray Dogs related as I'm getting back into this silly show/manga. (Please I just wanted to do something platonic and fluff bc of the latest chapters occurring in the bsd manga 🥲)

All rights reserved!! | Please do not steal, claim, or plagiarized this as I put a lot of effort into this | Dec. 25, 2024 | ©Sparda-Soully

[velvetvexations]

TERFs are so bad at making bottom surgery sound bad. Saw one say "--- (read: trans woman "vaginas" and trans man "penises") is something only erotic to a necrophile". Which was obviously intended to be off putting but i dunno I think it sounds kinda metal???. N there's one i just ran into calling neovaginas "axe wounds" which I KNOW is meant as an insult but oh my god it makes them sound so badass to me

lmao it was bad enough I felt compelled to censor it but yeah we're all about reappropriating TERF conceptions of trans people here

I'm white myself but I've been noticing more and more that white trans people have such a victim complex and believe themselves (ourselves) to be the most oppressed group ever. An acquaintance of mine (a famous trans activist) recently said that "trans people are the only people that face hate for how we dress". Like??? what about ethnic and religious minorities??? what about All Women including cis ones??? She also loves using antisemitism as an example of what "could" or "is going to" happen to trans people while treating it as something that was resolved after ww2 and is not very much still rampant

People are drawing swastikas on Synagogues and calling it praxis!

Idk if you ever saw this comic, but about a month ago, a trans man made a jokey joke comic about making an appointment at the gyno where the receptionist was confused. The ultimate punchline was that he's trans, and thus is the one who needs the appointment. It's v clear that the main point of confusion is that the receptionist thought she was talking to a cis man, who would have no real need for gynecological care. In the "I'm upset when not about me" crowd of TRFs, they decided it was transmisogynistic bc no *actually* the receptionist thought the trans man on the line with a deep voice was really a trans woman. Because sometimes trans women are mistaken as men over the phone. Idk if they just missed that it wasn't a primary care provider or what, but it was v clear to me that the idea was confusing a trans man over the phone for a cis man. Cis men generally don't need gynecologists. Trans men can need gynecologists. It had fuck all to do with trans women on a subtextual level. I can't fathom how they thought that.

TRFs CANNOT fucking read holy shit I hope they fucking apologized to the author

sorry to bring up PT AGAIN ik you are probably tired of hearing about it, but one of the last posts.i read before unfollowing was a comparison of transandrophobia believers with James Fucking Somerton. and its ironic as fuck to me because alot of critiques of Somerton can absolutely apply to them. equating any critique as harassment based on their identity is a big one and its been driving me nuts to see trfs envoke a James Somerton comparison when they are doing similar shit to him

James Somerton is a convenient lightning rod to compare every bad queer person for the rest of time

As a trans male I hate the weird, white knight shit that i see so many other men doing rn, like shut up will you?? Trans boys are not "cowards" or "incels" for not putting themselves in harm's way for (ESPECIALLY) CIS WOMEN Or trans women/girls. I'm so sick of seeing that stupid shit. Those guys are on the same level as military recruiters in my opinion. Just as predatory and fucking dangerous. Like not to be a dick but why do they seem SO convinced that trans boy must be naturally so much stronger then the average trans girl? Hello???????? Hello???

Man is the Strong Gender.

honestly of it wasn't for the lesbian separatism shit i would think that some transfem TRFs want some kind of tradwife-style "macho manly man protects his wife who is a delicate flower incapable of both violence and self-defense who will die if you look at her too hard" thing with a transmasc partner or something, given the way they actively applaud transmascs who talk like that. which would be totally fine if it was a weird fetish thing but this seems to be an actual expression of their politics (also am i just old or does anyone remember when the dominant feminist rhetoric was "women are just as strong as any men and can protect themselves")

it sure feels like that doesn't it lmao

IN WHAT UNIVERSE ARE WHITE PEOPLE INVISIBLE lmaoooo that post was too much

seriously lmao

I really dislike "trans women are the women of women" cuz once again we're using woman to mean the lowest position in a hierarchy

as always

Just something I wanted to share bc it made me really happy: when the forcefem blog made that post about how forcemasc isn't revolutionary and makes no sense or whatever the fuck, one of my transfem mutuals talked about how stupid the aforementioned post was and expressed her support for forcemasc and transmascs in general. I had no doubts that she was supportive of transmascs but that made me super happy!

Hell yeah, I'm really happy for that anon!

Happy Christmas eve if u celebrate ^^ hope ur havin' a good evening [or whatever time it is over where u live]

you as well <3

Logging into Tumblr after a chill movie night with the family only to see you've murdered a guy, holy shit

my tits were too heavy once more

saw another transandrophobia denier, this time on my dash specifically

terrible

Hell yeah it's always nice to find a casual history enjoyer online who's not racist

I do my best.