#but becomes like actively repulsive

[littleeyesofpallas]

明けの女医と宵の魔女～僕と彼女のみだらなカルテ～

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

katsuki is pissed the fuck off.

it doesn't take a rocket scientist to tell. whenever he's angry he makes it extremely obvious and most of the time it becomes everyone's problem. but it's weird to you because he was fine like, 5 seconds ago.

until 5 seconds ago he'd gotten back from buying groceries for the class and kissed you on the forehead as a greeting. he'd even brought the oranges you'd begged him to get last minute because you'd randomly been craving them, even after saying he wouldn't (but you both knew he would.)

but now he's pissed, and you have no idea why.

he's not saying anything either, but he keeps huffing and clicking his tongue every once in a while, fist pressed hard against his cheek and his jaw locked tightly chewing on the little piece of the own orange he'd been eating and finished a bit ago.

you keep munching on your piece of orange as you stare at him, and then you poke at his cheek. he grunts, shooing your hand away and leaning away from you.

"what's got you so grouchy ?" you tilt your head with a raised brow, he scoffs. readjusting his leg on the couch. you fight the urge to roll your eyes. he's ignoring you now ?

"katsuki."

silence.

"katsukiii-"

"it's nothin'." he growls, huffing through his nose.

this time you do roll your eyes "sure, that's why you're being all cranky." slowly, you inch towards his spot on the couch where he'd secluded himself away. he hasn't left the room and he doesn't react to you getting closer besides a slight side eye, so you know he's probably just being dramatic.

his nose scrunches up at your wording and he pretends he doesn't notice you lifting his arm up to lay in them. he doesn't comment on how he almost immediately changes his position to make you more comfortable.

"m'not cranky." he spits, eyebrows contorting and a pout settles onto his face "not a baby."

could've fooled me you think, but you decide against actually saying it. you're smile widens when his eyes narrow once he meets yours, he pinches your side "quit starin' at me."

"katsukiii. what's got your panties in a bunch ?" you coo and katsuki gives you the most repulsed look you've ever seen him make.

"don't ever say that ever again, i'm so fucking serious." he groans at your giggling, leaning his head away and shoving his palm in your face to get away from you like he couldn't just leave the room instead of actively pulling you closer to him. really, could've fooled you.

"ya didn't let me peel yer orange for you.." he mumbles grumpily.

you blink up at him "..what ?"

eyebrows furrowing just at the memory, he continues "was gone for three seconds to put away the damn groceries an' here you go, prancing around me, throwin' your peel away in the trash right in front of me."

oh, wow.

"katsuki. really ?"

"you know i always do it for you. yn." he sasses.

"that's why you were so mad at me ?" your giggles muffled by him pressing your head into his shoulder in a headlock.

"you were busy !" you fight weakly.

"so ? if you've got shit to do you come to me, i woulda done it in two seconds. peeling oranges doesn't take that long, dummy."

you keep giggling as you try to fight him off before you hear him snort and he releases you.

as stupid as it may sound, katsuki isn't the best when it comes to letting his affection be known through words, so you know how much acts of services, as small as they are, mean to him.

you sometimes forget how much he loves to do little things for you. throwing away your little candy wrappers, or already unwrapping your ice cream for you. or absentmindedly fixing up and sorting out your desk, or bookshelf when he sees your manga out of order or sticking out too much. the little ways he cares for you make your heart flutter. you smile up at him and offer him a piece of orange. he scowls at it.

"don't want your stupid orange." he mutters childishly, but you don't have enough time to pull away to eat it yourself before he grips your wrist. bringing it up to his mouth to eat it anyway. you roll your eyes with a fond smile.

"i'll be sure to leave the orange peeling to you from now on." you jest. he grunts in approval, softly chewing on the slice of juicy orange before patting your wrists, signalling he wants more. and you snort, but you still hand him another piece. his warm grip on your wrist remains even though he could very well just take it out of your hands. he hums again when the taste kicks in.

"you better, i mean it. otherwise it's your funeral."

thank my lovely lovely moot @kovu-bunnbunn for this lovely idea ! tysm twin ! :3

[flametrashiraarchive]

Can I request n/sfw headcanons for muzan x non violent demon reader?

(⁠っ⁠˘⁠з⁠(⁠˘⁠⌣⁠˘⁠ ⁠)

YES YES YES

Okay so you know this got my cogs turning and it ended up being more of a short story instead of headcanons lol. And yeah, I went with the idea of the reader being a demon who can draw strength from Muzan in... other ways 😏

Also this was an excellent excuse for me to write a "Muzan losing his composure and coming completely undone" fic so thank you thank you thank you 🛐

I hope you like it!

NSFW under the cut!

Succor - Muzan x Reader

(Non-violent demon reader, GN!Reader)

You were a curiosity. Another demon who did not consume human flesh– only the third such demon Muzan had heard of in a thousand years, and the only one of those three who wasn't actively revolting against him.

However, the thought did occur to him to simply dispose of you. You were defective after all, still clinging to your humanity. And you were weak too; slowly starving. 

Muzan had no use for you… and yet… and yet…

Perhaps it was simple morbid curiosity, or perhaps it was the wasted potential he saw in you. Before he transformed you into a demon you were beautiful, but once imbued with his strength and blood, you were divine… magnificent. And you were frittering that gift away.

"Explain yourself to me," he said as you knelt before him, barely clinging to your senses while he sat, poised and elegant as ever. "Why are you suffering like this for the sake of mortals? Why do you refuse to consume humans?"

"It's repulsive," you answered. He could hear the weakness in your voice even as you stared defiantly back at him.

The only blood you had ever consumed was Muzan's at the moment of your creation, and your body seemed to recognize that. The hunger in your eyes was palpable. It thrummed in the air between you. Your survival depended on getting more of it. You craved it.

Your stubbornness was obvious too, and if the past thousand years had taught him anything it was that minds like yours could not be changed with violence and threats. No, he had to win you over gently. He would have to love you into becoming the monster he needed. He would adore you into submission.

He leaned forward in his seat and placed two fingers beneath your chin, tilting your face toward him. "You would be a very special demon if you would only feed."

Oh, your hunger was dizzying. You were fighting so hard to retain your composure. He slowly dragged his thumb across your lower lip, relishing the way your eyes closed in response to his touch.

You were lovely, despite your defects. 

"Eat," he said, his lips so close to yours he could feel the warmth of your breath on his skin. "Please. I do not wish to see you fade away."

He placed a tender kiss on your lips, and another and another. You were so fragile, so drained.

Then something in you switched.

His eyes widened as you suddenly gripped the back of his head, pulling him to you with a ferocity he did not think you were capable of. 

Overpowering you still would have been easy; as simple as swatting away a gnat. But this sudden burst of strength was intriguing. You kissed him deeper and deeper, your tongue easing past his lips as a soft, satisfied moan emerged from you.

Something twinged, low in Muzan's belly. It had been centuries since he felt anything akin to desire, but you were seemingly intent on unraveling him. With every passing second your passion blazed hotter… and your strength was growing. 

Your fingers clung to him with an iron grip, as if your very survival hinged on his kiss. His crimson eyes widened once more as the realization hit him– you were in fact drawing strength from kissing him. It seemed his saliva had the same effect on your demonic body as his blood. 

He kissed you deeper still, intrigued and excited by your newfound vigor. After a thousand years of living, Muzan had assumed he had seen everything, but there you were, proving him wrong. You were so greedy for it too, your kisses so passionate and hungry they made the world tilt a little. 

He pulled back to examine you. "My dear, I–"

His breath caught in his throat as your hands went straight to the fastening of his trousers. Your eyes were near black with primal hunger as you pulled out his semi-hard cock. You wrapped your lips around it without hesitation and began to suck his tip. 

"Ohh~" Muzan choked out, gripping the sides of the seat as your tongue swirled around the head of his dick and teased his slit. 

It didn't take long for him to go from semi-hard to achingly erect. The power you wielded over his body, his helpless involuntary reaction; it was humiliating. And yet he did nothing to stop you. His breaths shivered out of him as he fought with everything he had not to buck his hips up into your mouth so you would take him all.

"How… dare… y– nghh…" his back arched as you palmed his balls, and wrapped your other hand around the base of his cock, milking him with that same hunger you had while kissing him. 

Oh gods, that was it, wasn't it? You wanted his seed, you needed it to sustain your continued perverse existence. You would not consume human flesh but you would draw power from him instead.

"You filthy little thing," he whispered through gritted teeth as you lapped up each bead of precum dripping from his cock. 

Your eyes were no longer lifeless; they glittered with vitality. 

Muzan's thighs trembled as your lips slid up and down his shaft , taking him to the very back of your throat, licking and sucking like the greedy degenerate you were. 

The wooden arm rests of the seat creaked and splintered beneath Muzan's fingers as he squeezed them, gasping as the pressure in his core became unbearable and he drew closer and closer to release.

"You want it, don't you… hm? Ohh, yes, you want my cum. I'm going… I'm going to give it… to… y–" He gasped for air, shattering the arm rest entirely. "Ohhh… ffffuck…"

He came undone, deep, guttural cries emerging from him as you swallowed his spend with fervor until he was sure he had nothing left. 

And then you kept on sucking. 

"M-more…" you growled as you continued to lap at his overstimulated cock, pressing your hand to his belly and holding him down.

His hand darted up to the wall above his head with such force the wood shattered beneath his palm as he released a choked cry. Gods, what were you other than his undoing? The pathetic, broken sounds of his whimpers enraged him but he would not stop you.

Heat prickled across his entire body. His face was flushed and gleaming with a fine mist of sweat which only added to his humiliation.  All that strength and power, yet he was helpless as you sucked his cock. 

"Damn you, damn you…hhhgh…"

His second orgasm tore through him like a beast with its claws drawn. Your greedy mouth claimed him entirely, swallowing down every drop of his essence as he came again. 

"Ohh Gods… oh Gods you filthy wretch…" his body shuddered as his pleasure waned and you finally ceased your sucking. 

Still, you gazed at him and audaciously lapped his tip, ensuring you'd got every last drop. And when you were finally satisfied you sat back, as a contented smile spread across your lips. 

Muzan took your face between his hands and inspected you. Your eyes were burning with vitality. Your skin was flushed and warm. You were rejuvenated completely, as if you had consumed a hundred mortal souls.

Your beauty and power were unlike anything he had ever seen. Such a curiosity.

Further study was most definitely required. 

"Fascinating," he whispered as his pulse slowly returned to normal. "Yes, I think I'll keep you here with me."

[princessbrunette]

⊹ ᜊ(ᜊ ´ ˘)੭ ♡ … PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE ♡

track two of the short n’sweet series. pairing: criminal!jj x reader — based loosely off the song please please please by sabrina carpenter. enjoy! ໒꒰՞ ܸ. .ܸ՞꒱ა

you knew what you were getting into, getting involved with an ex-convict and all.

it’s not that jj didn’t treat you well. no, he spoiled you in all the ways he could no matter how unconventional that might be. you’re talking bouquets of flowers he’d so clearly stolen from the gas station, pulling guns on guys that hit on you and threatening to ‘blast their freaking eyes out’ when they’d merely asked for your number, producing a wad of random cash when the nail lady asked if he wanted to pay contactless for your new set of nails. you figured he was trying his best, romantic in a way he knew how to be.

what you absolutely couldn’t take however, way the random disappearing acts. it was jj maybank you’re talking about here — you knew he’d be reckless and fly off the handle sometimes and you were pretty well equipped for that, infact that dangerous attitude was one of the things that drew you to him in the first place oddly enough. but every sunday, like clockwork the blonde would come up with some half ass excuse and disappear through the entire night, only to arrive home in the morning with pockets stuffed with cash. it made you anxious. whatever he was doing, whatever he was lying to you about — you wanted it to stop. don’t make me the girl who’s man goes back to jail and i still stick around, because i will— but it’s embarrassing— you beg to no one in your diary. you try and muster up the courage to ask jj about his doings, but each time you even toe in that direction he gets defensive, shaking his head with a little irritated scowl.

“look, i look after you right? tha’s all that matters mama. papa j’s got it figured out, you don’t need t’worry all the damn time.”

you wanted to trust that things would be fine, you really did.

he’d had a long week, and yet still when sunday rolled around you uneasily watched your boyfriend zipping up his hoodie ready to depart to wherever the hell it was he’d go to make all that money. you had a bad feeling, anxiety thrumming in the base of your stomach that something was going to happen tonight. you couldn’t let him go.

“jayj i jus— i just want you to— c’mon jay i have a fun idea, let’s just… let’s just stay inside!” you whine, verging on tears as you paw at him. his quick patience be damned, you were an emotional wreck and you needed him to listen.

“i gotta. you don’t get it.” he huffs, but even he doesn’t sound convinced, eyes lingering on you as you subtly pull your tank top down to let more of your titties spill out. that whiny tone in your voice usually meant one thing, and that one thing the two of you had been too busy to do that week.

“if y’need money i can give you some. whatever you need.” you wanted to yell at yourself to stand up, but trying everything was definitely on the cards. he scoffs, the provider in him repulsed by the idea and he gently grips your jaw between his thumb and pointer finger for a moment.

“what kinda fuck ass boyfriend would i be then, huh?” he brushes it off, but your pout remains.

“i need you. you can’t go. i need you.” it comes out all as one breath, and now— now you have his attention.

“that right sweetie?” he drawls, tongue in his cheek as he stops his movement towards the door to face you down, eyebrow twitching up in anticipation. keeping your desperate eyes on his, you stride back infront of him and all but fall to your knees, shaky hands going for his belt.

“please, please-please— as long as you need it. want it all night” you plead, and now he’s smiling — all big and malicious like a wolf as he thinks about using your throat, all thoughts of criminal activities becoming a memory.

he scrubs a hand down his face in deliberation before getting to work on his belt.

“ah alright.” he shrugs with a mischievous little chuckle. “for you, pretty thing? anything.”

the money could wait.

[princessjojo-x]

Mars Synastry

💝 mars opposite mars - the nature of this aspect depends on the signs involved. in some cases, one mars will be very strong & the other mars will be debilitated. this will occur between aries & libra, scorpio & taurus, capricorn & cancer. in these cases, the pink mars will tend to be very direct, especially when angry. the purple mars will take a more indirect approach & will be prone to manipulative or passive-aggressive behavior. but this will tend to anger the pink mars even more, leading to a vicious cycle. in these cases, this aspect can be quite volatile. if they are to get along, they will need to learn to understand each other & compromise. the pink mars will need to learn to back off at times & the purple mars will need to practice being more direct & forthright. however, when this aspect appears in the other possible signs: pisces & virgo, gemini & sagittarius, aquarius & leo, this aspect will tend to bring balance; they will be able to work well together & compliment each other bc these mars signs are of relatively equal strength.

💝 mars opposite venus - this aspect causes strong attraction which never leaves or becomes luke warm (similar to ‘mars opposite mars’). even after years partners will never get bored of making love to one another. this intense romantic & sexual energy may even border obsession. There isn’t a lack of desire in this relationship! one has the traits that the other lacks meaning they complement each other perfectly & give each other what one another wants. both partners work perfectly in bed together bc this is the ”omg are you a top? perfect bc i’m a bottom” kind of energy. one partner, usually venus is more submissive whilst the other, usually mars is more dominant. sometimes mars may be outraged by venus’s obedience meanwhile venus is disturbed by mars’s dominance. this complex rxship can become unstable & fluctuating, almost like a roller-coaster; sometimes partners are immensely attracted to each other, other times, they’re repulsed by each other. (scorpio venus/mars)

💝 mars opposite sun - hot & cold, on & off, rivalry. (libra mars or scorpio sun)

💝 mars opposite rising - mutual physical attraction which leads to bold & straightforward expressions of sexual tension. however, mars takes charge of the rxship which makes asc feel frustrated. despite mars being supportive of asc self-expression, asc feels nervous whilst asserting their rights in the rxship. (capricorn mars or scorpio asc)

💝 mars square rising - aggression & conflict. mars’s energy makes rising feel weak, threatened or preasured. if rising is a man & mars is a woman, she’ll feel like he is not manly enough. for example, she doesn’t like how he handles conflict or she doesn’t see him as ambitious enough. (aries/libra mars or leo/aqua rising)

💝 mars square mars - very toxic synastry with a frustration & war-like dynamic. (leo/aquarius mars)

💝 mars square pluto - intense passion, sexual chemistry & power struggles. rxhsip may even lead to abuse & violence. pluto almost activates the dark side of mars. mars will go through a self awakening & learn many lessons through pluto. partners tend to ghost each other but mars usually comes back to pluto. mars feels like pluto is very controlling & judgmental. (pisces/virgo mars or leo/aqua pluto)

💝 mars conjunct pluto - this aspect forces partners to confront their deepest desires & greatest pains. many intense experiences will be shared together. this may turn into an all-consuming rxshop, one that leaves you without any energy left to give. (taurus pluto or sag mars)

💝 mars square neptune - this indicates a lack of communication. mars is in charge in this rxship & neptune suppresses themselves. neptune doesn’t understand mars’s actions or intentions. mars behaves selfishly in this dynamic. (taurus/scorpio mars or leo/aqua neptune)

💝 mars conjunct juno - mars is likely to be very possessive & protective of juno. but juno may dislike how mars expresses this attraction.

[bartyism]

anything for you. theodore nott.

in a universe where voldemort won, you and theo risk everything.

reposted from my old account.

warnings: graphic death

pairing: theodore nott x ron weasley's twin sister!reader

“You can’t possibly love him, y/n. He’s a bloody Death Eater!” your brother had jeered at you. Hot tears ran down your face but you refused to wipe them. You wanted everyone in the room to see how deeply this was hurting you.

“I have never been more sure of something in my life. While you were gone – while everyone was gone – he was the only constant. He isn’t who you think he is.” The room broke out into a chorus of repulsed sounds. The Order of the Phoenix wasn’t much these days, the predominant members being the Weasley family. Harry Potter’s death loomed over everyone. Numerous other deaths piled on: those who died at the beginning of the war, but those who have died recently like your older brothers, Percy and George, and your father, Arthur.

“He thinks we’re scum! He would kill Hermione on the spot. How can you stand there and say this shit?” another brother had chimed in. Voices were starting to overlap the more trapped you felt.

“You’ve never given him or myself the chance to prove that’s not true! If you remember, Theo was the one who told me about everything Draco was doing back in school. He has already given us so much information. He’s climbing the ranks, but he is doing it for us!” you fell to your knees, exhaustion and frustration getting the best of you. “Can’t you see that even if he’s not doing it for all of you, he’s putting his life on the line trying to help secure a world that I feel safe in? You know how my beliefs align!”

“Has he stopped killing innocent people? Does he still partake in Voldemort’s plans that don’t necessarily target us? If he’s climbing the ranks, I can’t begin to imagine what he’s doing to do so,” your mother inquired, shooting daggers at you. You couldn’t look her in the eyes.

“He’s doing what he can to survive, too. If he dies, we will lose so much.” Without missing a beat, you added, “If he dies, I am as good as dead.”

This conversation, over a year old, still rings in your head every time you meet Theo. Your current setup in an old warehouse allowed these thoughts to amplify. The only sounds keeping you from spiraling were the rhythmic tapping of Ron’s foot and Bill’s pacing. You never got to see Theo alone, but that wasn’t a horrible thing.

Though you wanted nothing more than to have one evening alone with him, as selfish as that sounds given the climate of the world right now, the positive came in the form of the people who joined you on these exchanges and started to see through the cracks in Theo’s character. This hardened soldier who bears the Dark Mark turns into someone else in your presence. He is more patient and gentle, as compared to the man that numerous members of the Order have seen slaughter people in cold-bold, just to laugh at their frozen-in-death facial expressions.

You had noticed changes in Theo throughout the last few times you’d seen him. He was much more focused on you than the information they were there to exchange. He’d almost become frantic – dark circles that got darker every time you saw him circled his eyes, and his face had become much more caved in. He was starting to look as though he were actively being tortured. He didn’t look better this time around.

You sprang up from your spot when you heard the metal door grind against the floor, opening quicker than anticipated. Ron and Bill quickly put their wands up and took aim at Theo, refusing to put them down even when you yelled, “It’s just him!” Theo didn’t respond much better, raising his wand and aiming at Bill, who you knew Theo saw as more of a threat than Ron.

“Are you being followed? What made you come in here like that?” Bill growled, eyes flickering between Theo and the entrance. Theo narrowed his eyes at the older man.

“You think I would lead them straight here if I was? If it was just you two, sure. But, I would never do that with her here. Consider yourself lucky,” Theo spit.

“That’s enough. Are you alright?” you stated, briskly walking to your lover. Up close, you noticed faint bruising around his neck, as if he’d been choked. Theo didn’t say anything and instead, kept his eyes locked on the two men standing behind you. “Theo,” you trailed off, putting one hand on his cheek. You searched his eyes for any type of response, but you couldn’t find one.

“You don’t have much time,” he said, only loud enough that Ron and Bill were barely able to hear. You took a slight step back, still close enough that you could hold his hand – the hand that he couldn’t even bring himself to grasp in return.

“What?”

“The Dark Lord knows there’s a mole in his closest circle. He knows you are not dead, despite me telling him you were,” Theo said, finally making eye contact with you. Your mouth fell open and you held his hand tighter.

Theo lost his will to fight at that exact moment, letting his hand holding his wand fall to his side. He pulled you into him and rested his forehead against yours. “He knows you’re the mole?” you whispered.

“Not yet, but I can’t imagine it taking much longer. His eyes are set on Berkshire – thinks he’s gotten scared now that his mother died. I was able to ward him off me for the time being. I told him that I wasn’t the one to kill you, I just saw you get hit with a nasty spell.”

“Come with us before it’s too late, Theo. How many times do I have to beg you? Turn your back on it all. We can keep you protected.” you pleaded, looking back at your brothers for reassurance. Bill shook his head before Ron chose to speak.

“He is not coming back with us. Do you know what kind of target that would place on us? It would be a death sentence,” he spit. “With that Dark Mark, I’m sure Voldemort could summon you back to him at any given second,” he added. You spun around to confront him but Theo was quicker – he grabbed you by the arm and pulled you into him.

“I wasn’t planning on it, Weasley,” Theo said with such spite behind his words that it made you want to cower away from him. He looked down at you, asking you a silent question. You bit your lip in thought, looking over at your brothers. 

“Could you guys give us a minute to ourselves? Just stand guard at the door.” With a few grumbles, you were able to convince them to leave. As soon as the door shut, you wrapped your arms around Theo as tight as you could, reassuring yourself that he was here with you and still alive. For how much longer he would be alive, no one was certain.

“You can leave them. Even if you don’t take refuge with us, you can escape,” you pleaded. Theo softly shook his head and pressed his lips to your forehead.

“No, y/n, I can’t. I’m bound to him until one of us dies. I…” he trailed off. You frantically started shaking your head at him and he sighed. “We knew this was going to happen.”

“You might have known. I held out hope,” you cried. Theo grabbed your chin gently, using the other hand to wipe away the stray tears. “Promise me you won’t die.”

“Y/n…”

“Promise me, Theo.” 

His response never came. Theo pulled you into him and kissed you so tenderly, that it was beyond out of character for him. You knew this was the end. He softly ran his hands down your sides, over your back, anywhere they could grasp. It felt as though he was trying to remember the exact shape of your body. He eventually tried to pull away, but in return, you softly bit his lip and pulled him back in. 

Theo couldn’t bring himself to let go of you. You were intoxicating in a way that no drug or drink could replicate. Not breaking the kiss, Theo hoisted you onto a table that was just behind you. Laying you down on it, he kept kissing you. Along your jaw, down your neck – Theo kissed you anywhere with an exposed bit of skin. You couldn’t stop yourself from crying, to which Theo then kissed away your tears. When he was finished, he pulled you up into a sitting position.

“Love, you are the only thing in this short existence of mine that I’ve ever been sure of. When I die, I can die happily because I knew you. I got to love you.” Theo whispered, his voice cracking as he professed to you. You leaned your forehead against him, looking him straight in the eye.

“Try to survive, Theo, please. For me,” you pleaded. Theo nodded briefly but was interrupted by a banging on the door. 

“Hurry up, it’s getting dark. We need to leave,” Bill’s voice called out. Bill and Ron both reappeared in the room, looking at the two of you expectantly.

“We need to leave, and you still haven’t given us what we came for,” Bill sighed. Theo tensed and pulled himself away from you, putting his facade back on as if it were a costume. Part of you wished he didn’t, just so they could see the real him.

“The Dark Lord plans to raid Hogsmeade, again. You need to make sure everyone is evacuated. He doesn’t plan on ever having to raid them again. In two days, if you don’t create a plan, everyone still living there will be dead.”

“And will you be one of the Death Eaters killing those people?” Ron inquired.

“If it means that it keeps me alive, and keeps a steady stream of information coming to you, yes. I have never been unclear with my intentions.” Theo said. He was significantly taller than Ron, forcing the redhead to look up at him as Theo walked closer to him, slowly.

“We don’t have time for this,” Bill said, getting visibly anxious. “We’re leaving,” Bill added, grabbing you and Ron both by the arm. 

Everything happened so fast after that – you reached out for Theo, but he backed away from you and you could’ve sworn you saw a tear run down his face. Just like that, you were whisked away, Bill choosing that moment to apparate. You didn’t get to say goodbye; you didn’t get to tell him you loved him for the last time.

Three days later, after their failed attempt at raiding Hogsmeade, you and your family watched in horror as Voldemort was broadcasting yet another round of executions. This wasn’t the first time this had happened – the first time being with his son, Mattheo, a boy you had known in school. You can’t recall the exact reason for his death, but it set a standard. If Voldemort would kill his child in such ways, what would he do to others?

You held your breath as the camera view panned down the small row of people awaiting their death. You felt the wind get knocked out of you when you caught sight of him.

The boy you loved was there, his eyes already dead. His appearance was, somehow, much worse than when you had last seen him. The bruising around his neck that had almost been healed was now back in full display, accompanied by bruises all over his face. He had blood dried around his mouth and nose, and his left eye was so swollen that it looked completely closed. Something told you that death was merciful compared to what he had been put through.

Voldemort rambled on about the first three men, killing them quickly. His smile never failed, especially when he turned to the last victim: Theo.

“Theodore Nott, what would your father say?” He teased. He pulled a wand out of the box that a servant of his carried at his side. Raising it, you recognized it to be Theo’s. Voldemort snapped it in half, causing a slight flinch to radiate off Theo.

“Stupidly fell in love with a dirty blood traitor, one of those Weasleys. He’s acted as an agent for them this entire time, but of course, I knew from early on. We’ve played a brilliant game of cat and mouse, haven’t we, Nott?” Voldemort, again, laughed. Every muscle in Theo’s body was tensed up and he never lifted his face to look at the crowd that had gathered or the cameras broadcasting the event.

Noticing Theo's aversion to looking at the crowd, Voldemort ran his fingers through Theo's hair before yanking it back, forcing him to look up. Theo grimaced but finally looked straight at the camera. His good eye bore through you, sending your heart straight to the bottom of your stomach.

You started sobbing, sliding off the couch and crawling towards the hologram showing the entire scene. “Please,” you gasped. Hermione sat behind you, pulling you into her, but you fought her off. 

“You were special to me,” Voldemort sighed and raised his wand. You grabbed whatever was closest to you – in this case, a plate someone had been eating off of earlier – and threw it through the hologram. The sound of your sobs and the plate exploding against the wall ricocheted around the hideout.

Another one of your older brothers, Charlie, moved Hermione aside and restrained you. Without doing so, you would’ve hurt yourself or someone else. “Get off me,” you repeatedly screamed, thrashing around on the ground.

Charlie was able to hold you in place on the ground, holding you facedown on the carpet with your arms pinned behind your back. To your horror, you turned your head to the side just in time to see a green light encase Theo in its grip. 

The cry you let out was movie-worthy. Using all of your strength, you burst out of Charlie’s grip and jumped up, turning on your surviving family members. “He died for us. He died for us and our cause. You never gave him a chance and never wanted to offer help in return,” you sobbed. Hermione came back to your side and held you in her arms. 

You didn’t fight back this time. You sat in her arms and sobbed. You couldn’t stop sobbing as you looked back at the hologram and it was panned to Theo’s dead body. It zoomed in on his face as if to hurt you even more. You watched as Voldemort whispered a simple charm, and flames consumed Theo’s body.

“I hope the Weasleys watching this enjoyed the show. While you watched this we have surrounded your hideout. Even Nott’s Occlumency he worked so hard on for you couldn’t keep me out. Perhaps it’s good that you never trusted him with your exact location, or else this would’ve happened long ago.” Voldemort smiled, and the hologram shut off. There was no noise in the room other than your silent sobs. 

Then, the first window exploded.

[gothamcitycentral]

Alastor’s depiction means a lot to me as an aro man- in part because I really did not have high expectations for him as Aroace rep. I figured he was made to be Aroace because he’d be ~inhuman and distant and unable to form emotional connections~. Maybe not like, actively aphobic but still a pretty lame stereotype.

But then in the show itself Alastor isn’t depicted like that at all. Not only does he have genuine attachment to his friends like Mimzy and Rosie and eventually the whole hotel, one of his conflicts is that he’s become too attached, that he almost died protecting those he cared about and not for his own goals.

His lack of romantic attraction and his sex repulsion is actively written into the show, not as something that “others” him but simply an aspect of what makes Alastor himself, treated with full positivity and support. It doesn’t define him, but it does impact his character and how he interacts with the world around him, as any sexuality would.

So, yeah, hats off to you Hazbin Hotel, you beat my expectations and have some of the best aromantic rep I’ve ever experienced, even without using the word in the show itself.

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Force in Nature | Platonic Yandere Trey Clover

Part 1

If Trey could explain what climbing out of the charred skeleton of his own body was like he’d say it was repulsive. Yes, there was no blood to dirty his hands and knees with but the small bits of ash and bone-crunching underneath his weight wasn’t comforting either. The hours spent sitting in the waste of his own remains as he pushed at the iron door of his furnace. In those hours that blurred into days, he’d thought back to the children who’d felt the same pain as he. On this cycle of self-incrimination, he’d thought back to the last faces he’d seen. That unruly red head he’d shooed out the furnace, the crying blue-haired boy in the cage, and the small toddler he’d put to bed minutes before his capture. In the days that agonizingly became weeks all he could think about were the only things that mattered. How he could have achieved his goals differently, revenge, and how hungry he was. He knew humans if they could resurrect from their ashes alone would have died of starvation by the time he’d begun to think coherently again.

But he was not human. 

He was a witch. 

Who died countless times because of something he didn’t need to do. 

Witches didn’t need to eat children. It was a preference. A tradition he continued from his family to maintain his age every 50 years. Children were easy to prey on, and known for their enriching souls. But it truly wasn’t necessary…adults with decent lives would have been just fine and Trey imagined if given the chance again he would have preferred to do that instead. If only because of his burning desire to have a family of his own still present. To think after dying at the hands of a child he thought of making his own he still wished nothing more than to have a life filled with child-rearing. His brain silencing his resentment with defense for the child responsible. He truly must be insane.

With the endless time in the darkness of the oven, Trey effectively strikes this hole within him for romantic attachment. He has had his fair share of partners that he often spared from being an ingredient for his desserts. He never felt the need to actively pursue anyone but if he ever got the chance to adjus this diet that’d had to change.

With no other thing occupying his time Trey only found his only interest to be scheming. Thoughts about what he’d do if he found the children responsible for his entrapment. What he’d do with another chance at life beyond the darkness of the oven. How he’d forget his taught aim for beauty when it’s done nothing but gotten in the way of what he’s always wanted. Thinking as though he’d never get the chance to enact it. His imagination filled his heart with a desire for this reality. But deep down he knew it’d be years before the iron lock would decay with rust enough for him to escape. By then the children he remembered would have moved on and become adults. It was best that his reality be kept with him in the confines of the oven; if only to spare the world of the monster he’d become. 

Creak.

“Hey look this place has an oven too!”

On second thought—the world was filled with monsters what was one more?

______________________________________________________________

A clog shoe bumped into a worn notebook sprawled on the floor. The owner of the clog sighed and bent down to lovingly hold the book. The blue-haired preteen knew exactly who this belonged to, gently collecting the bundle from the floor as he navigated his way over abandoned clothes and toys. Deuce already knew where the owner of the notebook was, looking out the window to see his siblings scampering near the edge of the woods. With their chores done, Ace and (Y/n) would spend the rest of their time enjoying their time together. Playing games and chasing one another was a past time the two of them partake in religiously. 

Deuce was just glad there was no one cruel enough to stop them. 

Not anymore. 

Since the harrowing escape from the child-eating witch, a new option for unruly adults had appeared. And his stepmother was the second lucky candidate. Of course, he and Ace agreed they’d never tell (Y/n) how that happened but the truth of the matter was that they had one parent now. That parent—their father was decent on his own. Between his civic duties, his socialite practices, and his job he was a nice father. Not as present as any of the other single parents in town but Deuce wouldn’t complain. After all they’d been through he was just happy they could still play without the looming dread about what happened. 

On an outing in town–something Deuce found himself doing more now that the woman was gone– he saw that many of the men previously sent to the militia littered the allies. Homeless, injured, and ignored as they mumbled about the horrors of the battle-field. While Deuce wouldn’t say he and his siblings survived a war they certainly could be considered survivors. Some nights he awoke to Ace calling out to him in his sleep. Pleading with the apparition in his nightmares to let his family go. 

It was heartbreaking. 

Deuce wouldn’t delude himself that he was grown up enough to pity his brother. He knew that he wasn’t spared from the effects that experience brought. Even their younger sibling now much older had an anxiety over being left alone. Over a span of two years, they refused to write out the entirety of their journey. Only giving bullet point on their experience. Ace confided in him that he thought it was because of guilt that they didn’t share more. Assuming their experience wasn’t as violent as theirs it’d make sense. But like Ace, Deuce couldn’t bring himself to mad at anyone but the witch themself. 

To think there was a being that kept the shoes and keepsakes from their past victims, forcing his victims to clean the very place those children probably begged before. It was an evil beyond words but it taught them all to be wary of people. Adults mostly. 

Sure, it shocked their father when they refused to go into town with him for the first time since their return.Thankfully their father didn’t think too much about it, in the same way he didn’t think much about the news of his missing wife. For all he knew, the children were happy being at home by themselves. Magically being more behaved on their own than with their step-mother. 

That was fine with Deuce. 

Perfect with Ace.

And what was best for (Y/n).

As long as the three of them stayed together, they’d be better off. Things were different now but that was okay. Because as far as Deuce was concerned they were better off than ever before. 

______________________________________________________________

“Why did he bring out these candles?”

The written question brought the brothers’ attention to their frantic father. Darting around the kitchen with a sweaty brow and dressed in something nicer than his pajamas. It was the question they all were asking. Ace and Deuce scrunched their faces in disgust at the last time they’d seen those dreaded candles out and about. The last time the twins had smelt the burning scent of macadamia nuts and vanilla their father had introduced a young chatty woman who’d turn into the nightmare that plagued their daily life. It eventually did lead to (Y/n) being born but that was beside the point. 

“Is he seriously getting into dating again?” Ace snickered. 

The redhead was already replaying the pranks that bothered his stepmother the most. Prepared to unleash a renewed sense of menace since their grand escape. (Y/n) recognized the look on his face, smiling to themself as they wrote their own plans into their notebook. Looking over their head Ace was already considering what to do being so close to dinner, it would have to be a minor prank. The two watched their father, trip over himself as he struggled to carry the extra chair to their dining table; scampering in silent giggles as they decided on one of their schemes. Deuce didn’t bother to follow, reassuming his role as the innocent bystander drawing the focus off the mischievous duo. Huffing to himself, he entered the kitchen offering to help with getting dinner together. 

“Aw Thank you Deucey! I was hoping you’d come help, you know ever since your mother went missing you’ve been such a big help.”

Deuce smiled as he finished seasoning the food on the stove,“Happy to help!” 

He really was, especially since their father would be cursing their existence by the end of the night. Deuce was aware that by the time a knock was at the door and Ace and (Y/n) returned all smiley, that they were prepared for the night ahead. When their father quickly smoothed back his gelled hair and opened the door revealing the unwitting victim for this evening all the children within that shack felt reasonably threatened.

“Hey Tania, happy you made it!”

“Thanks dear, I’ve been looking forward to it.”

Their latest enemy was a newcomer to the village, a librarian that was looking to settle down. With blocky glasses in front of golden eyes, black hair with a greenish tint, and a slim fitted dress of course the children’s father was taken with her. Far too young for a man his age, this woman made the children’s skin crawl. 

“You didn’t tell me what adorable children you have!”

Their father nervously chuckled, “Aye well they’re so independent they’re more like little adults.” 

Ace shared a look with Deuce, the latter lightly shaking his head vetoeing the chance for a snarky comment. Rolling his eyes he turned to their younger sibling who was already preparing for their first prank. Joining back into the conversation Deuce made sure the adults were occupied. 

“That’s not right. Children should be allowed to be children, it's important they have a childhood.”

The woman woefully tilted her head, making their father fumble with his words.

“Y-y-you’re absolutely right! I just hope they get all of that without their mother. Uhm Bread?”

Ace mimicked throwing up which made both of the children giggle from behind their plates. It earned them a glare from their father who covered that up with passing the plate of bread. Unknowingly setting the stage for their first prank.

The woman’s raised eyebrows indicated she noticed the unfortunate state of the bread before their father did. Lifting a slice all she found was the wet and drooping remains of the bread that everyone seemed to be enjoying. The children hid their smiles by stuffing their faces watching as she examined everyone’s plate and silently cringed at her own. 

“Is something wrong, Taina?”

Completely unaware their father brought her attention back to him. She shook her head bringing back her painted smile.

“No nothing at all.”

Deuce was surprised their previous step-mother was quite loud when they tried that prank; blaming her future husband for barely being able to make bread. They received an earful for that one. Embarrassing their father was off-limits, apparently. But if this woman didn’t mind keeping such things to herself; Deuce figured it’d be better in the long run. With a look to (Y/n), he knew what was next. 

They gathered everyone’s attention with three taps to the table. Once everyone’s eyes were on them they pointed to their cup which was previously filled with milk empty once more. Ace decided to heed their call.

“I’ll go get the pitcher for you (Y/n).”

Excusing himself from the table he made his way to their tiny ice box, grabbing a pitcher filled with the milk he’d squeezed that morning. Usually they’d feel bad if it was their father’s work but he hadn’t touched their cows in months so it wouldn’t be a big deal considering their plan for their next prank.

“Such dutiful children, Mister Diamond you must be proud.”

“That I am. As I said they are so incredibly independent!”

Acting as though he hadn’t heard a thing Ace returned, “Would you like me to pour it for you (Y/n)?”

The little child shook their head and reach their hands for the pitchers handle. When Ace finally pulled away (Y/n)’s hands momentarily held the pitcher before giving to it’s weight. The glass pitcher clashed down to the table spilling the white drink directly onto their guest’s plate and off the table trailing into her lap. There was the added bonus of the milk’s initial splash which coated the woman’s face, making for a hilarious scene to the children at the table. 

“Oh my goodness!”

“Oh Taina I’m so sorry!”

(Y/n) quickly adjusted their handle on the pitcher properly filling their cup and putting it away. Deuce silenced his giggles, offering to clean up. Grabbing a napkin he kept his laughter to himself as the woman voiced her discomfort their father fussing over her awkwardly as he tried to wipe her off. 

“I’m so sorry about them! The children can be so clumsy.”

“It’s…alright. Children who usually do things by themselves happen to learn the hard way.”

“Or in this case the wet way! Am I right?”

Taina stopped smiling as she looked their father with disgust. Looking around he found his children were doing the same. He pulled at his collar as though that would relieve the newly created tension. 

With an awkward cough he attempted to start again,”So is this something you’ve noticed with your own children or was it in a book you read?”

The question seemed to alleviate the atmosphere, everyone going back to cleaning the mess. 

“I have no children of my own. I’m always too busy traveling to have any children of my own but now that I’m settled maybe I’ll change that.”

Their father visibly swooned at that and Ace delivered a firm kick to the older man’s knee. Hiding his grunt of pain with another cough he went back to his seat, resuming his dinner. Everyone was eating once more and the children were more than prepared for their final prank. 

During the commotion of the spilt milk, Ace had swapped the bowl of noodles for something of his own concoction. Having planned for this from the start he waited for Taina to ask for the noodles to which he happily obliged. Their father kept her attention, eyes solely on her as she filled her plate with the dish he felt proudest of. The other children were struggling to hold in their laughter as they watched her mindlessly stab and curl her fork within the specially crafted noodles Ace had made. 

The noodles Ace had provided were from his very own collection of maggots and worms covered in the sauce their father had made–to an untrained eye it looked exactly the same. It seemed as though Taina was discovering this as she took her first bite, stopping any motion to chew as she realized that the noodles were wriggling within her mouth. In frantic realization and a mouth far too full she looked at the red-headed boy who smiled widely at her. Looking at the other children she realized they too were well aware of what she’d put in her mouth and were all eagerly waiting for her grand reaction.

“So what do you think?”

Their father looked at her expectantly, completely oblivious to the organisms pushing at her lips begging to be released. (Y/n) with a breathy giggle they couldn’t delay put their hands over their eyes, almost frightful of the blast that was meant to come. But alas it did not because instead of vomiting or opening her mouth to reveal the horrors inside, she chewed. She chewed, gnashing the creatures within to bits before swallowing heartily, making all the children drop their jaws in shock. 

Taina licked her lips and her teeth for good measure, sending a beaming smile as she took their father’s hand.

“It was delightful!”

______________________________________________________________

From then on Taina was a forced to be reckoned with. Without an utterance to their father about what she’d endured she took on whatever pranks the children had come up with. Dodging bags of manure, somersaulting over spills, and devouring the little creatures Ace relied on to make any other woman squirm. 

It was torture.

Taina had gone from an occasional guest, to one that stayed over night far too quickly. Suddenly taking over the kitchen to cook meals for everyone. Implementing her own traditions where she read to everyone before bed. Demanding the children take tests with her grading their work.

While she wasn’t actively wicked like their last step-mother, her will was no compromise. 

When she demanded their father do something he’d do it, even when he was so exhausted he could barely stand. When their father wished to join the neighborhood watch she refused demanding he prioritize the family and his rest. It was frightening how quickly their father had gone from an active socialite to a man dictated by Taina. 

That wasn’t all, so many things had changed and not just within their home. On one of his last trips to town Deuce noticed how many families were in mourning, apparently looking for their young adult sons and daughters. Ace noted that their kitchen had begun to change, filled with appliances they never would have gotten with their father’s salary. 

It was (Y/n) who offered an answer to all the strange occurrences as of late. One that terrified their brothers to no end but with no other explanation it seemed to be true.

“You’re the witch from the forest. The one that wanted to eat us, right?”

Ace was the one to confront her, cooking in the kitchen with a resolve to confirm their worst fears and face the witch head on. She tilted her head at him, turning from the oven to put her hands on her hips.

“Are you saying you’ve met a witch in the woods?”

Ace growled,”Don’t play dumb with me! I know what you are!”

Her curious smile fell and for a moment Ace thought she’d start to cry but that died when her painted lips curled into a devilish smile. The green tips of her hair seemed to climb to the roots fluttering in waves of magic that made her yellow eyes shine with malice. Her white teeth sharpened exactly the same as the witch who’d forced Ace to organize the shoes of victims from years before. For a second the red-head found himself right back in that basement staring desperately up at the witch who declared that he’d eat his brother in exchange for eating his candy house. 

“Glad we don’t have to lie to each other, anymore.”

The voice that came out of her mouth was exactly the one from the witch in the candy house–sultry, smooth, and a masculine sound. One Ace regretted to say he admired before his brother was threatened. 

“What do you want this time? To get revenge on me!? To eat me?!”

Taina or Trey made a mockery of his anger, jutting their painted lips out in a mock pout. With an offended hand on their chest, they pitched their voice to match Taina’s.

“Me? Never I’m a changed witch! I’m not here to eat you kids…” Trey couldn’t help the laughter that bubbled from within slipping back into their original voice. “No I’m here to eat your father.”

Ace growled charging his head into Trey’s stomach attempting to throw punches and scratch at the green haired witch whom held his head at an arms length keeping all his assaults inches away. 

“Hold on. You didn’t let me finish.” With a light push, Ace stumbled into the wall behind him, unprepared for the pain budding from his back. Trey, picking up on his pain, bent down on one knee to continue,”I will eat your father if you all don’t help me get what I want.”

Ace peeled himself from the wall, swatting at the hands that attempted to catch him when he stumbled forward. Shouldering his pain, he pushed on to ask the question that’s been plaguing his mind.

“What do you want?”

Trey’s wide and unsettling smile softened, reminding Ace of when they first met the witch. 

“A family.”

If Ace felt better he would have laughed. Instead he settled to scoff.

“You?! A family?! With the kids you tried to eat?!”

“I didn’t try to eat all of you.”

“You tried to eat my brother!”

“You locked me in an oven!”

“You were going to eat my brother!”

“...Fair.”

Trey sighed sitting down on both knees, in a attempt to level with the boy. Looking into the scared fiery eyes of Ace, he closed his own as he spoke. 

“I just want to try and see what life is like with a family. Once I’ve done that you can put me in an oven once again…just play along with me for a little while. Please?”

Ace floundered a little, those golden eyes for once looked honest, desperate, lonely. He felt like he was loosing his edge, he sent a glance to the hallway where his siblings listened. From the sight he could tell Deuce wasn’t signaling anything in particular, (Y/n) was no different. Their face was stuffed into his twin’s side, once again hiding from the after math bound to come.

It was up to him once again.

Just like it was his job to shove the witch into the oven. 

It was his decision and the witch’s fate.

______________________________________________________________

Trey adored the sunrise. It brought such excitement that the day was starting once again. He also adored waking to an empty bed because it meant that the most beautiful part of his day was to come.

The sounds of small pairs of feet padding against the creaking wood coming already brought a smile to his face. The hushed arguments and demands to ‘shhh’ made Trey pretend to be asleep as he felt the side of the bed dip from multiple angles. Feeling the little hands that opened his arms to curl into his sides and the smaller weight plopping on his stomach. It made Trey irrevocably happy.

“Daddy, are you awake yet?”

It was Deuce. Polite as always. Trey loved that about him.

“Dad’s not awake. If he was awake he would have stopped me from picking my nose just now.”

The other children laughed to themselves. 

That was Ace. Ever the mischievous trickster and the unexpected leader of his siblings. Trey loved him despite his flaws and was more than willing to deal with anyone who’d bother to complain.

There were no words from his third child. His baby. Just the light plat of their hands against his cheeks, eventually becoming curious tugs at his lashes. After successfully lifting one of his lids to see his golden orbs alert and moving, Trey figured the jig was up. 

Closing his arms in he trapped all of his children and held them tight. Perfectly able to deliver a number of kisses on their little heads. Unbothered by the joyful squirming and their protests Trey made sure every one of his children got a barrage of kisses and ‘I love you’s before they were released. He held onto (Y/n) easily cradling them to blow raspberries into their tummy. He already knew they’d need a nap from waking so early.

“Papa wanted us to tell you he’s back from hunting.”

The message Deuce delivered reminded Trey of the concept of hunger. He didn’t feel it much anymore but he was sure his children did. And they couldn’t possibly handle a whole human at their age, so he better get breakfast ready.

“Thank you Deuce.”

Ace jumped up, hopping up and down on the bed emphasizing his words with every jump.

“I–wanna–hunt–!”

Trey reached over to drag him from the edge, saving the kid a world of hurt. 

“Not until you’re older and it’ll probably be different then what your Papa does.”

“But Papa’s taken us hunting before a long long long time ago…at least I think he did."

Deuce innocently chimed tickling (Y/n)’s feet, unknowingly making Trey’s heart heavy. Trey kept a smile on his face as Ace joined Deuce, making (Y/n) let out more silent laughter.

“Oh yeah I think he did  but we were real little I don’t even think (Y/n) was around then!”

“Yeah…Dad were you with us then?”

The eyes turning to Trey put him on the spot, his heart skipping a beat before he answered.

“Of course I was. I’ve always been here.”

Deuce smiled, “That’s what I thought. I don’t think I can remember anything without you Dad!”

Trey quietly mumbled to himself,”A time without me….”

The witch thought about the mother he’d seen in the market place and the infant she paraded around. A babbling baby that only knew to cry out to her in times of stress. Trey never got to experience that. Looking down at (Y/n) who was released from the barrage of tickling to just stay cradled in their father’s arm. Trey smiled to himself.

“My baby!”

Bending down to kiss their forehead, he relished in the incomplete smiling back at him. He did the same to the twins on each side. Trey’s grateful for the magic that let him keep this family and he was grateful it would let him get back all the times he’s missed with his dear family. 

“My babies! Come let’s get started on breakfast! Who’s hungry?”

“Me!”

“Me!”

(Y/n) raised their hand, fighting to bring their hand as high as theirs. An impossible feat at their age but with a bit of magic maybe that won’t be the case next time. 

“My perfect little family and it’s all mine.”

[smutinlove]

prince dick grayson x knight reader that doesn't like him that much??

u can make it fluffy smutty angsty wtv 🙏

implied fem reader

sort of forbidden love??????

angsty af

i was kinda listening to a sad playlist i made...

Prince Dick was known for his scandalous activities. But those "rumors" were almost always shut down by his majesty, King Bruce.

I mean, Prince Dick was the first in line to the throne, so he had to uphold his reputation. But that didn't stop him from flirting and fucking with every maid in the palace.

You, one of the trusted knights in Gotham, were assigned to guard and shield Prince Dick. But sometimes, it felt as if you didn't really do anything.

Dick was... Dick. Currently, he's fooling around with one of the maids of the palace. You could hear her moaning. The sounds of skin slapping and Dick's voice, telling her how much of a "good girl" she was.

Honestly, it was repulsive. This was the future king of Gotham.

A few minutes later, the door creaked open, and the maid ran out. Her cheeks were puffy and red. Dick leaned against the doorframe; his bedsheets were wrapped around his hips, but that didn't cover his boner.

"What'd I do?" Dick asked, tilting his head, causing you to snicker. "Well, your Royal Highness, maybe you should be less... Dickish."

"Come on, love, you love Dickish." You rolled your eyes. "Don't call me that, Dick."

He snickered. "Original. Hey, you know what?"

"What?"

"I have a perfectly empty bed, you know." You rolled your eyes. Prince Dick was always trying to get into your pants, either with his flirtatious comments or his wandering looks.

"Dick, stop," you muttered. "Why?" he said, looking up at you with the saddest expression. "Goodnight, your royal highness." Dick nodded, taking the hint. He retreated back into his room.

The sun rose, waking up the entire kingdom, including his royal highness, Prince Dick. You stood guard the entire night; it was part of the job, right?

The door creaked open, revealing Dick. There were bags under his eyes, and his cheeks were red and puffy. Your cold demeanor melted before it froze back over. "Are you alright, your royal highness?" you asked.

"What? Yeah, of course," he replied with a smile before quickly walking away.

Strange. Could it have been about last night? But you didn't care, right? You were his knight. And he was going to be king. And you sort of loathed him.

He was bratty, annoying, stupid, and a heartbreaker. You did not need that.

You watched as Prince Dick flirted with the neighboring princess, Princess Barbara. You were five feet behind Prince Dick, occasionally listening to his conversation with the princess whenever she laughed a little too loud.

Prince Dick led her to the fountain and gave her a kiss on the cheek; it wasn't incriminating, of course. But it was living up to his reputation of being an A-grade asshole and a flirt.

You looked away as the two continued flirting. You were not jealous, right? I mean, you were just a knight. You had no business being jealous.

You watched over Prince Dick every day. He was your responsibility. You had to follow him everywhere. You watched him flirt with countless men and women. You'd watched his breakdowns and his moments of triumph.

You had seen it all. But you felt empty every time. You were supposed to feel only one thing about him, and that was the need to protect him. That was it. But how have you changed over the past few years? He was becoming king soon. After that, he could get rid of you as he pleased.

You were a few feet behind him, watching as he entered his room before you took your place. You stood outside his door, guarding and protecting him from any possible harm.

Your eyes fell down to the doorknob. You wanted and needed to do so. An exchange of words wouldn't hurt, right?

Your hand fell to the doorknob, gripping it tightly. Your brain needed it to be locked, but your heart longed for it to be open.

Your cold demeanor melted as you twisted the doorknob, opening the door slowly. "What?" Dick called out, hearing the door creak open. "Hey," he said, turning around at the sound of your voice. "Oh, hey. Do you need something? I... did something happen?" he asked.

You smiled and shut the door, venturing further into his room. He tilted his head. "What's wrong?" he asked. You wrapped your arms around his neck, "This."

You leaned in and gave him a gentle kiss. Surprisingly, he kissed back. You quickly pulled away as you felt his hands slide down to your waist. "You and me... we can't happen, okay?"

"Why?" he asked obliviously. "I'm not a princess. I have no real title. And the kingdom would not approve, okay?" You replied, tears brimming your eyes.

"No, we can make this work, okay?" Dick tried reassuring you, but how? You were just a knight. It would never work.

"I do not wanna be your sidechick, Dick!" You yelled, tears falling down your eyes. "You're breaking my heart, love." His hand cupped your cheek.

You slapped it away. "We—we would be unhappy together! We would fight all the time and we would loathe each other, okay? Why can't you understand that?" Tears fell down your cheeks.

"Please, we can make this work, I promise," he whispered.

"No, Dick, we can't. We are too different." You gave him a soft kiss on his cheek and left.

You had nothing with Prince Dick Grayson. You were simply his protector.

CAN YOU TELL I LOVE ANGST??? OMG ANGST IS ANGSTING RN AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA OMG

CAN YOU TELL I WAS LISTENING TO "YOU'RE LOSING ME?" YES? WELL, FUCK ANYWAY

[furiousgoldfish]

Abusive parents instill this compulsion in you to always act like everything is okay. No matter what is done to you, or what you're experiencing, you're compulsed to act okay. They do this in order to preserve their public image, and it's usually done by severe punishment and humiliation, for every time when you're openly showing any pain, dissent, emotion or opposition to what they say.

Next thing you're taught is that if you can act like you're okay, then you're fine. If you were really 'not okay', then you wouldn't be able to act fine, you'd be openly having a breakdown, crying, screaming, creating a scene or whatever else and it would be beyond your control. Which is easy to convince you, because you're constantly watching them scream, cry, throw tantrums, create scenes and having violent outbursts, seemingly without their control, and you don't want to be acting like that. You understand that this behaviour is childish and dramatic, you're repulsed by it.

However when it's about you, they convince you that any complaint, any little show of pain, hurt, fear or unwillingness to go ahead with whatever they want, is the same as their tantrums, actually worse. They get rewarded with attention and comfort for their tantrums, you get punished for any hint of distress.

So then you end up feeling like you always, no matter what, have to keep your control, because if you don't, you'd be like them, tantrum-throwing out-of-control giant oversensitive baby. You believe if at any point you ask your needs to be considered, if any time you were to voice discomfort, pain, or anger, you'd be considered a burden. Possibly get humiliated and despised. You'd be shamed and socially outcased because nobody would want to put up with that. Your compulsion to act like everything is okay, becomes so strong that you could be actively dying and you still wouldn't say a word, or show a hint that something might be wrong with you.

And you doubt even your own pain, and cling to the notion you were taught before. 'If you truly weren't okay, you wouldn't be able to act okay'. But this is a lie. If a person is compulsed, with such high stakes, to act okay, they can act okay through anything. You can actively be having a panic attack and act okay. You could be having severe health issues and act okay. You could be having severe trauma condition and act okay. There is almost no limit to how far you can act when you feel unsafe. My body learned to time seizures and attacks to only happen when other people were not around to see it. Because it felt like my life depended on it.

It is possible to act okay and very much not be okay. The fact that you're forced to act means you're unsafe to show how not-okay you are, not that you are really fine if you can act it! Your condition should not be put on a doubt just because you're not visibly and publicly falling apart. Abusers visibly throwing tantrums is also an act, not their true state. You've been lied to twice. People can act okay through hell, and they can throw tantrums for nothing. Don't doubt how not-okay you are, even if you can act otherwise.

[certifiedsexed]

Hi! So, I'm asexual. I know I'm asexual. Like, I didn't realize sex was something people my age were engaging in until I was in like grade 11 because I felt such a disconnect and assumed media just blew everything about sex way out of proportion. I'm also somewhere between sex repulsed and sex neutral. The thought of having sex either seems like and absolute chore (on good days) or is something that makes me feel- no joke- pure , visceral revulsion at the mere thought (on bad ones.) However, I WANT to want sex more than anything. I think on SOME days I'd be ok with being the recieving partner, but I'd never want to reciprocate (ESPECIALLY when it comes to oral sex, thats is something I have always had a really strong negative reaction to thinking about) but being willing to take it and not reciprocate out seems unfair to whoever I'd be with (i've been told it's selfish or rude when i've expressed this to friends), even if me engaging in any sort of sexual activity in the first place would be for their sake (relationships are about compromise and thats a compromise I'd be okay with). That said, I'm not sure a partner out there like that exists and I'm tired of the well meaning bullshit I get from friends being like 'you'll find someone who's gonna love you for you' because no, I haven't and chances are I won't. I'm biromantic, but I experience more attraction to women but still wouldn't really want to have sex with any of them, and considering theres a lot of buzz about how 'lesbian sex is the best sex' because both partners typically consistently and frequently get off, it seems like a bit of a reach to think I could find a girl willing to date me who doesn't want sex. Yes, other asexual folks exist, but considering i don't tend to advertize the fact I'm ace and because I don't dress in a way that could get me clocked as queer, I don't tend to meet a lot (read, any) ace people in my daily life. ANYWAY this is kind of a really in depth plea of me basically asking if there is any resource or literature that can teach me or make me not necessarily DESIRE sex (because I know that can't happen) but mentally become okay with engaging in sex. Like could I, a generally sex repulsed asexual, somehow become a sex favourable asexual through some sort of therapy or other means?

Hi!

Here's the thing, Anon. It's not unfair, selfish or rude to prefer not to reciprocate and/or "take it" during sex. That's just a preference. In fact, in the lesbian community, that's often called being a "stone bottom".

Your friends are in fact incorrect and you should know that having sexual preferences like that are never unfair or rude: you just have to communicate with your partner(s). It's literally fine.

But also, you're talking about being sex repulsed. Sex feels like a chore to you. It's not a good idea to look at sex as a chore you're willing to do for your partner. Especially when sex does make you feel ill often enough it's worth noting.

I'm not saying you can't do it but I am saying if you don't pay attention to your own boundaries, you might just wind up resenting your partner and not being able to tell where your "Hard No's" [As in boundaries that are non-negotiable and that you are not compromising on!!!] are.

It's okay if sex is a Hard No for you, even if it doesn't always make you feel ill. That's your right.

And yes, there is a lot of buzz about lesbian sex being the best. (Which partially has a lot to do with lesbophobia and the cisheteronormative views on lesbian sex "not even being sex".) But that does not mean it's a reach that another girl would want to date you without sex.

It doesn't have to be a girl who doesn't want sex, Anon; there are so many different ways to have sex and ways people enjoy it. For example, there are people who only enjoy masturbation or simply don't mind not having sex with others, especially if it means they can date someone they like.

I genuinely can't help you on finding something that will make you "okay" with engaging in sex and I'm really sorry, Anon.

You could try a sex therapist (they're supposed to be equipped for all manners of issues related to sex) but I don't feel comfortable pointing to any specific therapy methods when a lot of them are based in the idea people are "wrong" in some way for being sex repulsed and they're often hurtful and unhealthy.

But I can say that I'd really recommend joining some online ace communities, specifically with other lesbians/sapphics and talk to some other ace people there. This isn't a you issue, Anon, these are all very common worries that ace people, specifically alloace people have and it might help to talk to other people with similar experiences.

I wish I could help more. Let me know if you have any other questions, Anon. <3

[bloggingboutburgers]

If it's okay to ask, how do you handle acephobia as an adult? I know that's a broad question, but it feels like ever since I become an adult, the acephobia in my life has kicked into overdrive. Suddenly, if I'm not an active, excited participant in 18+ conversations, I'm being @'d and teased for it no matter how many times I disengage from the conversation or say to just leave me out of it. I've had (ex, otherwise extremely toxic) friends tell me that my version of aceness doesn't exist because "nobody is that sex repulsed" because I don't read fics if they have 18+ scenes, that I can't be childish forever, and that they hated that people wrote fics about sex repulsed aces. My mother told me that she regretted not being more openly loving with my father because she thinks that's what caused me to be asexual as an adult. Being a kid gave me a shield to hide behind, but now that I'm above 18, there's just this assumption that if you're not totally comfortable with 18+ topics, you're either an infant or a puritan, and you need to be fixed, and I don't really know how to handle it without making these people feel validated that I'm "just a puritan." I just don't like being the butt of the joke because of my sexuality all the time.

Hmmm... I'll be honest, I guess I didn't see that much difference between as a teen and as an adult myself? But I guess it might be a cultural thing about the rapport to sex related to age. In my country, at least when I was growing up, you were very much expected to have an interest in sex-related topics in high school already.

That said, everything you described is true. And because I've wanted to hiss so many times at what you've described, here's deconstructed thoughts:

I'M that sex-repulsed, anyone who says that shit can fuck off

Anyone who says they downright HATE that people write things about sex-repulsed ace has a queer hate issue. That's downright what it is. It's fucked up and they oughta check themselves and their aphobia.

Aah yes, the classic "sex=adult and that's the only thing that equals adult ever". While we're at it I'll also assume that when they say "18+" they just mean sex and none of the other many many things only a person over 18 experiences and understands?

Anyway... It sounds like you're surrounded by pretty fucking sucky people. Granted personally there's a fuckton of bullshit I just smile and nod at on a daily basis, and I don't hang out in group spaces, much less in fandom spaces, because sadly with the state of how things are, I know they're kinda anti-me by nature. It's lonely and heartbreaking and I won't pretend it's easy every day, far from it, but the alternative of having to force oneself to put up with even more hate and erasure is worse.

So yeah, lots of self-preservation reflexes. Lots of laughing at a person's aphobic joke like "Wow that's a glorious asshole if I ever knew one and I'm gonna stay as far away from them as I can from now on." Got very tough when that description involved some coworkers in the past, but hey, at least my dance of joy was all the more satisfying when they left the company.

And on the flip side, if a person is friendly and open to listen, and learn if needed, without dismissing me? Oh you bet I'll hold on to those people for dear life and do my best to hang out with them more. Such people are scattered across my life, but they helped me build a support system of self confidence that made it much easier for me every day, and helped me build the confidence to come out as ace to my whole family over time. (I also have amazing bros who somehow always seemed to consider my asexuality as an obvious part of me and their opinion is the one that mattered the most to me from the start family-wise, so y'know, I'm lucky.)

So yeah... Preserving myself from people who invalidate me and cherishing those who don't really did a lot for me. It made me more and more confident over time to mention that I'm ace casually to new people, because these people taught me that hey, sometimes you tell someone you're ace and they somehow DON'T turn you into a laughing stock for it! And yeah, it's kinda fucked up that this has to be some kind of incredible news, but... Hopefully the fact that it's possible nonetheless can bring you a bit of hope.

Ofc that also means that sometimes I'll be having like, dinner with friends of a friend that I've never met before, and suddenly I'll find myself thinking "Wow these people who just met me and know nothing about me just made like 3 jokes involving me having sex in the span of 2 hours, and I forgot that was apparently 'normal'." It's weird for sure. Bit of a survival game of sorts sometimes. But hey... It's a life, ig, we didn't choose our lives so we gotta play the hand we're dealt. And uh... How did that Bojack Horseman quote go again? Oh yeah.

[57sfinest]

theoretical entroponetics: the post

okay. LONG post incoming. i have summarized all available information on the pale, separated into confirmed objective truth & in-canon speculation that may or may not be true, and then appended my own very detailed theory on the pale! this post is meant as a resource; please feel free to add things of your own in replies/reblogs (please tag me if you do!) or point out any errors i may have made. you’re welcome to use any of my personal theory in your own work but please credit me if you do!! (and tag me in that/send it to me, i really want to see what you do with it!)

Here’s what we *know* about the pale, according to in-game and concept art: 

It erases data, at least the kind stored on radiocomputer filament and magnetic tapes.

It has no dimensions of its own- pale latitude compressors serve to force dimensions on raw pale and allow navigation. 

The pale is referred to in the context of entropy

It arrived with mankind, but not immediately- there are 8000 years of written history, but the pale was first recorded 6000 years ago, implying that pale either didn’t start forming immediately or that it was so insignificant/distant that it went unnoticed for 2000 years. 

There exists a group of people who are actively trying to expedite entroponetic collapse; the ideology is called entropolism

To this point, pale isn’t immediately visible. Pale has molecular structure, but manifests as a waveform, and only becomes visible at a certain distance from the origin, once wave frequency is sufficiently high. 

During pale exposure, people experience “sense objects”: visual or auditory hallucinations and/or vivid physical recollections of memories. These hallucinations may originate from their own consciousness or someone else’s. c

People require physical and mental examinations before interisolary travel and are allotted a certain number of days per year as their pale exposure threshold. 

Overexposure results in a pale “addiction”- these individuals crave pale exposure, and it’s unclear if this addiction can ever be broken. It’s also unclear whether there is a point at which pale exposure becomes lethal, but given that it dissolves matter, we can be fairly certain that a given length of continuous exposure will kill. 

Radio signals, cold plasma torches and anodic sound are all used to manage the pale to permit travel through it. Plasma torches destabilize the molecular structure of the pale to create gaps, anodic sound widens and maintains these gaps, and radio signals rationalize the pale into recognizable dimensions.

Radio signals are, in return, susceptible to corruption by the pale, resulting in entroponetic crosstalk, where signals from the past or the future are transmitted to the present. CCP is one such phenomenon and is directly related to the formation of new pale through magpie interpretation.

There is a dedicated Union for people who work in and with the pale (the Pale Workers Union). They have two slogans; “The light purifies; The sound absolves; The pale no more” and “Son et Fureur” (sound and fury)

Here’s what we may choose to believe about the pale, based on the thoughts and beliefs of in-game characters:

In conversation with Soona, the pale is described as a “curdling milk” phenomenon: “repulsive, but natural”

In this same conversation you can theorize that the churches were meant to contain the pale origins; out of the seven churches, six were destroyed during the suzerain or the revolution

The phasmid and whatever other lifeforms it’s communicated with believe that entroponetic collapse is comparable to an oxygen holocaust (i.e. the great oxygenation event), implying mass extinction due to a toxic overabundance of sapient thought

Harry refers to it once by saying “The wolf is at the door. It’s going to eat the sun.” so take that as you will

It’s likely that Tiago’s “Mother” is some manifestation from the pale, if you choose to believe that the 2mm hole is in fact a pale origin point (the concept art does confirm it’s a pale origin, but the game offers other explanations, so I won’t say it’s the only answer)

Inframaterialists believe that revolutionary action (NOT thought) may create a counter-force that will prevent the spread of pale; it’s unclear if any reversal is possible.

The world will be fully consumed by the pale in 27 years (I put it here because you may or may not believe that shivers and harry are reliably sourcing this information)

And now my personal speculation about the pale:

A quick and easy point: it’s confirmed that the pale has a measurable EMF “exhalation” frequency that varies with proximity. Strong enough EMF pulses can actually tamper with magnetic storage- radiocomputer filaments! Electronics! Fortress Accident data loss! This gives us a tangible explanation for why pale can delete data :)

This may also explain its ability to cause radio interference- radio frequencies are just a subset of EMF frequencies, so it’s possible that pale exhalation on *just the right frequency* is what’s responsible for the entroponetic crosstalk we get on radios sometimes

The pale canonically has an atomic structure, but it also has wave properties, so it’s possible that the pale has wave-particle duality on its subatomic level, like photons do

Based on this, entroponetics is likely a very similar field to quantum mechanics, which might be an interesting source of ideas for anyone (like me) who wants to explore pale-related possibilities

The pale could be a manifestation of raw patterns. That’s why math “forces dimensions” on it- it rationalizes or “tames” the patterns, which allows it to be manipulated to a certain degree.

There are several references to the pale that refer to mathematical concepts and patterns, saying that the world dissolves into “a tangle of azimuths and cosines” as it blends into the interisolary pale- more on this later

Steban comments that the pale is commonly theorized to be nostalgia or “historical inertia”, but it’s largely agreed that it’s “the past” in a broad sense. Thinking about the idiom that history repeats itself, it could be that history/the past is part of the pattern that comprises the pale, and that it’s also the type of pattern most readily perceived by people (people don’t viscerally *perceive* math, for example, but we experience memories)

To first define entropy: Chemically speaking, “the measure of a system’s thermal energy per unit temperature that is unavailable for doing useful work. (per encyclopedia britannica).” Physically speaking, it’s a measure of randomness or disorder in a system. Less work/less order = more entropy; it’s a physicochemical “winding down” of a given system

It’s commonly thought that pale is the entropic force, but what if it’s the opposite? (Keep in mind the chemical definition: less ability to do work = more entropy) Consider: the pale as less entropic, a cleanup force, recycling the potential lost by death and destruction in the universe. This in part explains why a dead person’s memory is present in the pale- their potential has been recycled into the pale in the form of their memories (their life’s *pattern*)

Enthalpy is a related concept to entropy and is defined as the total energy contained within a system. Holding the system enthalpy constant- saying the universe will always have the same amount of total energy, no matter what, according to thermodynamics- results in an entropic tug-of-war between the pale and the world. The pale wins through sheer inertia (again, inertia is mentioned specifically in game)

Overall: think of the world as “cooling”, losing heat and energy through war and death and complacency. Think of the pale as steam and heat, melting down old materials to start it all over again. (Kim says, *through entroponetic interference*: “it’s been a long, cold winter.”)

Consider: the pale as a sinusoidal function, eternally repeating. The pale recycling the universe to start a new cycle, “spending” itself, resulting in pale not being present in the beginning. Then, as the new things begin to settle- with the advent of the human mind, specifically- the pale reforming, slowly reclaiming potential, eventually ending the cycle to start again.

In comes CCP and magpies. Consider: CCP as a backwards transmission from the next “cycle” (after all, pale has no sense of time). Magpies as *pattern-sensitive* people who are able to decode CCP into something useful called novelty. They reach into the potential of the next cycle to build the potential in their current one- this paradox could be what creates more pale, because (and this is where it gets weird, I apologize) doing this retroactively increases the total amount of energy/work/potential in the current cycle to have been reclaimed by the pale for the next one.

Think of the pale as the compost bin for every single thought in the universe. The pale is the exact right size to compost every little atom and thought in the universe, and can hold nothing extra. But magpies reach into the future, the next cycle, and bring in extra. This paradox forces the pale to grow to accommodate the additional material, which also increases the starting potential of the next cycle. This process allows each cycle to accumulate minor changes from the previous one, which can snowball over many cycles.

Furthermore, to the inframaterialists’ point: revolutionary action would be such a radical shift in inertia that it would increase the potential in the world, forcing the pale to pause/shrink to “balance the equation” in terms of pale-vs-world thermodynamics. So maybe they’re right after all :)

And some diagramming, to explain the utter bullshit I’ve just dropped:

[bridgetotheskyyy]

Akatsuki; Gangbang/moresome

a/n: reader x akatsuki members! (pain, kakuzu, kisame, deidara, hidan, tobi - with zetsu present lmaooo. horrifically 18+ lol. Okay, two problems I know. NO ITACHI, also NO KONAN but I included the characters I think would be down with this and those two just don’t fit the bill.). oral, vaginal sex, ass play, degradation & praise. wc 3.8k

Kinktober Masterlist

“I’ve initiated a meeting with some of our wealthiest female donors,” Pain said as Akatsuki members arrived at the entrance. 

Itachi and Konan were not among them, the former having refused on the spot while it had simply not been the latter’s scene. Pain suspected a speckle of jealousy on Konan’s part, but had not argued with her decline.

Kisame studied the club and its lights, winking flirtatiously, and when realization dawned, shook his head with mock judgment. "You know some interesting people, Leader.”

Pain raised his brows. “As you all know, I do all I can to find donors who are willing to give to our organization.”

“It’s a fucking sex club,” Kakuzu snapped. “Doesn't that mean we're paying them?” 

Pain was quiet for a few seconds. “No. Tonight, we are offering our services.”

They were quiet in turn. 

“What …” Deidara started cautiously, “kind of services?”

“My thoughts exactly,” Hidan added. “From the sounds of it, we won’t be killing anyone.”

Pain shot him a dangerous look. “Certainly not. There's been an agreement. We've been offered to come here at no expense of our own.”

“So we're not paying?” Kakuzu said, ever the single minded one.

“That's correct.”

“What will we be doing?” Deidara said, determined to stop beating around the bush.

Pain delayed his answer, but nothing could soften the blow. “We will be offering pleasure to the woman.”

Silence, then ― 

“What?”

“Come again?”

"We're fucking for free?"

“Who would ―?”

"Ohhhh." Tobi, who was the only one unfazed by the announcement, fixed a hand on his hip. "Tobi has read about this!"

"You read?” Deidara quipped. 

"Yes! Its called hybris… hyber… " Tobi strained to recall. 

“Sound it out,” Deidara deadpanned. 

“It's a big word! But anyway, some girls like criminals and wanna be with them!”

“Tobi is right,” Pain said with an inscrutable look the aforementioned man’s way. “And the word is hybristophilia. In other words, our activities are not always repulsive to the fairer sex.” 

Kisame laughter sounded out amongst other nightlife jingles ― slot machines and bustling crowds. 

“Sometimes our activities attract,” Kisame smirked. “Leader’s not the only one keeping things interesting around here, I see.”

Pain straightened as it seemed as though the door would open, but it was only a false alarm. “If any of you wish to leave, you are free to do so,” he said. “Though, I suspect you won't.”

Deidara crossed his arms. “What makes you so sure?”

“I’m not sure,” Pain deadpanned as members of his group trailed eyes over a gaggle of pretty women walking by. “Just a feeling.”

Hidan recovered from his ogling to scoff. “Well, count me out. This is unclean ― not to mention totally beneath Lord Jashin.”

Pain looked Hidan over his shoulder. “I have let the club owners know that a percentage of whatever is made tonight be donated to any temple of our choosing.”

Hidan blinked. Shrugged. “It’s okay, then.” 

Deidara licked lips that’d become dry. “For how long? And ―” He struggled. “How much?”

Pain’s ringed eyes met his, a beat following before he replied, “As long as you can take. As much as you can take.”

The shock began to subside to be replaced with a sense of utter unreality. 

“Seriously?” Kakuzu said. “We’re really going to do this?” Kakuzu considered. “Then again, if we’re the ones being paid …”

“Don’t tell me you’re not the least bit curious outside of the dough,” Kisame teased. “Bet you haven’t had any in quite a while.”

“What’d you say?”

Just in time, the doors opened to reveal a madam. 

“Oh!” Said the big-wigged woman. “Lord Pain! Please, come in!” 

The woman led them into a dimly-lit hallway, doors lining either side into apparently oblivion. The big-wigged woman opened one of many and you, a much younger woman, appeared.

The woman leaned against the doorframe, dressed in nothing but silk, black lingerie with matching stockings. She giggled as she studied her clientele.

“If they told me there’d be so many of you, I would’ve worn less,” she purred. 

The big-wigged madam giggled. “Have fun, boys,” she said and closed the door.

You sauntered toward the bed in the room, sat and spread your legs. “So, who’s first?” 

Pain crossed the room immediately. 

“Le ― Leader!” Deidara’s face ran corrupted with red.

With one finger, Pain beckoned you to her feet. He got behind you, forcing you forward the group of criminals you would soon serve.

“Don’t any of you realize what I am offering you?” Pain crept into the crook of your neck, his lips dangerously close to leaving a kiss there. His hand crept over the planes of your stomach, eliciting a soft hum from you in return. “I am telling you …” 

Pain hooked fingers against the band of your panties, pulled them down to reveal your naked cunt. 

“We can do as we want with her …”

Immediately, the energy of the room changed. It grew hotter as Pain took the plunge, peppering your neck with kisses, one hand fingering your cunt while the other kneaded at your breasts. You moaned, the slick sounds of Pain’s fingers exploring your sopping folds mingling in the air. 

Kisame shrugged. “I’m game.” 

Pain removed both his fingers and form as Kisame approached. You whined in disapproval before Kisame’s hand took you by the throat. He pinned you to the wall across the bed. You released another moan as he tightened his grip over your neck.

“You like that, little girl?” Kisame teased. “Like to be choked?” 

“Mhmm, mmm …!”

“Oi.” Hidan crossed the room. “Save some for me. If these whores’ll be sending Jashin’s temple money, might as well …”

You squealed as Kisame threw you to the bed with a devilish chuckle. 

“There.” Kisame slapped the side of your cheek. “Take her mouth.”

Your mouth fell open and Hidan went to remove his coat, as Kisame did, before working on his zipper. 

The others ― Tobi, Deidara, Pain, and Kakuzu ― resigned to the sidelines. 

Deidara faced his leader to the sound of zippers and buckles loosening. “Aren’t you going to ―”

“Consider it a courtesy to the collective,” Pain said. “I will go last.”

Kakuzu huffed, but clearly something had changed in the man’s demeanor as Hidan and Kisame worked you out of the pretty lingerie Pain had left slack. “There’ll be enough holes to go around, I imagine.”

“Not with me in the room,” Kisame said, working your panties past your delicious thighs. 

He tugged his trousers down to reveal two cocks, blue-tinted along with the rest of his skin and springing hard and ready.

“She’s so pretty …” Tobi mused, surely drooling behind his mask of tangerine. 

You were fully nude now, save the stockings around your legs ― said legs now wrapped around Kisame’s waist at his breathy command. Hidan slapped the side of your mouth with his cock, watching you wince with sadistic pleasure before filling your mouth with him. He groaned, the sound harsh and heavy in his throat, when you moaned around his cock, elicited by Kisame entering both of your holes from behind. 

“Mmm ― mmfph!” 

“Aah, fuck!” Hidan buried a hand in your hair, forcing you forward to fuck your mouth properly. “Fuck her hard, Kisame. Her mouth, oh ―”

Kakuzu huffed ― but not before clearing his throat. “The night’s barely started and you’re already at your wit’s end, Hidan.” 

“All for Jashin ― aargh!” Hidan threw his head back as your hand massaged his balls. 

You squealed as Kisame quickened his pace, your eyes bulging wide as he split you open on not one, but two cocks at a time. The bed underneath you creaked as Kisame jutted his hips into your tight holes. His sharp nails tightened into bedsheets beside your head. 

Pain tilted his head in fascination. “How does she feel, Kisame?”

“Fan―fucking-tastic …!” He growled as he slapped his hips into you, rattling your body with the power of his thrusts. 

Tobi came forward and Deidara realized why ― after all, you had two free hands that could be put to use. 

In a flash, Tobi was out of his robe and tugging his trousers, hand fishing for his cock to place into your waiting, willing hand. 

Tobi shivered, gasped ― in a voice not quite his ― as your hand grasped his cock and stroked him obediently. 

“She’s a trooper,” Kisame said, thoroughly fucking you into the creaking mattress. He leaned forward to lick the side of your face. “Enjoying yourself, slut?”

“Yes ― oh, gods, yes ― mm!” Your words jumbled from your mouth when Hidan allowed it, before shoving himself back in.

“‘Course she does,” Hidan hissed. “All you whores are all the same, just holes waiting to be filled ― urgh!” 

You popped Hidan from your mouth to shoot a look at Pain, Kakuzu, and Deidara. “Mm! I have one more hand, c’mon, one more cock, I can take it, please!” 

Adrenaline shot through Deidara; he stepped forward ― only to be thwarted by Kakuzu shoving him to the side and taking his place. He dug for his cock with narrowed eyes, flashed green over your rolling tits. You reached for Kakuzu, stroking off both him and Tobi simultaneously. 

Kisame did not make it easy for you, fucking you mercilessly now. You couldn’t hold Hidan in your mouth anymore, but perhaps didn’t need to; Hidan began to stroke himself over your face, nearly at his limit. 

“Oh, gods, yes, pleasepleaseplease, feels so good, so good, all of you, mmhmm, please ―” 

Tobi moved his mask up his face a few inches and kneeled down to kiss you, his tongue shoving into your willing mouth. 

Hidan growled, shoved him away as he came, spurts of cum roping over your face and collarbone. You opened your mouth to scream as both your weeping cunt and tight ass clenched around Kisame’s cocks.

Kisame lurched over momentarily, before pulling out of you with a drawn-out grunt, the white of his cum shooting against your plush-pink folds and stomach. 

Being in the throes of climax seemed to adrenalize you, because your hands quickened their pace on the dual cocks in your hold, your motions becoming almost blurry as you jerked off the two men on above you. 

Kisame bowed out to collect his breath at the edge of the bed, meanwhile Tobi slotted into his space, turning you over on your hands and knees. 

“Wait,” Kakuzu growled out. “What do you think you’re ―?”

“Don’t worry, Kuzu.” You sat on your elbows, Kakuzu’s cock still fastened in your hold. “I can take care of you from here …” 

You swiped at Kakuzu’s cockhead, which seemed to satisfiy; his eyes shuddered closed and let you continue taking him in your mouth. 

You released a drawn-out moan as Tobi entered you from behind, forcing you forward. You caught yourself on your elbow, humming as Tobi bottomed out inside of you, hands secured tightly over your curvy hips. 

Hidan gripped the back of your head and forced you into the bush of Kakuzu’s pubic hair. 

“Mmmf!”

“Don’t think it’s over between you and me; I would never give such a paltry performance in the name of Jashin.” Hidan said, then removed himself from the bed. 

For once, Kakuzu made no angry retort; he rocked his hips forward, fucking your skilled mouth. He watched with still zombie eyes, fascinated with your head bobbing back and forth on his cock.

“She’s quite talented.” Pain’s voice carried with it an extra layer of silk, bordering on teasing. He turned to Deidara. “I see a hand free for you.” 

Deidara swallowed. Finally. He was already out of his cloak, adorning only the fishnet he donned underneath, his cock long and veiny and glued to his hand growing tacky with sweat. He approached you as Hidan pressed himself against the wall and slipped against it to sit on the floor. 

Kakuzu shot Deidara a glare as the younger man offered his cock to you. 

“Don’t think I’m sharing with you, circus freak.”

Deidara’s brow twitched. “Who’re callin ―”

“Don’t fight,” You purred before taking Kakuzu in your mouth again, cheeks hollowed against his cock while stroking Deidara lovingly.

Kakuzu lurched forward, hand over the small of your back before it found itself over the fat of your ass. Tobi planted a hand over your other cheek, fucking you from behind. A particularly harsh thrust nearly sent your head thudding against the wall, but he held you firmly to him, rolling his hips expertly into you. 

Deidara frowned as he watched the scene. Where’d he learn to fuck like that? 

You hummed with appreciation, sending Kakuzu shivering over you. 

“Urgh …” He gave your ass a slap before curling a hand under your stomach to fish for your clit. “She is good.”

“Was I lying?” Kisame joked with a sharp laugh. 

Kakuzu had only just found your sensitive nub to give it a series of grateful, circular strokes before Tobi knocked his hand away to do it himself. 

“Ahh!” You bucked back into Tobi as he fiddled with your clit. 

Kakuzu growled as you deep-throated him for the last time. “I’m ―!” 

You held him at the back of your throat as he finished inside you, swallowing his spent as he panted above you. 

You gripped Deidara with force, retiring from his shaft only to caress his balls. Deidara clenched a hand at the wall. You popped Kakuzu from your mouth and immediately you were on Deidara’s cock, licking the long expanse of it before to familiarize yourself with him.

“Such a pretty cock.” You shot him a stare in your breathy state, Tobi still fucking you from behind with mysterious skill, cum from previous escapades settled and dry against your cheek. “Almost as pretty as the rest of you …” 

“Hm ― hm … !” Deidara shuddered as you fit him in your mouth. 

Tobi slapped your ass before moving to thumb at the star of your ass, teasing the pucker you rocked on and off of him. 

“Mmm!”  

“Such a pretty miss,” Tobi breathed out, clearly at his limit. “Let me see pretty lady cum …”

You screamed around Deidara’s cock. He grunted viciously as you reached your limit, clenching down on Tobi. You were rocked with a few harsh, quick thrusts before Tobi forced himself to pull out, white leaking from his slit and into the crack of your ass. 

Deidara grabbed your ankle and forced you toward him. Without needing to be asked, you spread your legs, giving him the sight of your pussy clenching around nothing, still hungry. 

Deidara’s cock twitched with want. He settled at your entrance, pushing himself into your slick cunt. 

“Too bad she’s getting pretty boy after the likes of us,” Kisame said, slapping Tobi’s wrist as he, apparently, tapped out, still mysteriously reticent. 

Deidara frowned, trying to enjoy the possessive clench of your cunt. “Sh ―Shut up.”

Your heel knocked into Deidara’s back, causing him to fall forward and into your arms. 

You kissed his nose. “I wanna see you.”

Deidara blinked, then smirked, then fucked into you ― a sharp, quick thrust ― and drank in your gasp.

“Aw, c’mon,” he said. “Can’t still be tight after all that.”

“Yeah,” You breathed against Deidara’s cheek as he started a rhythm, “c’mon, cutie ―”

“Cutie?” 

Deidara forced his fingers into your mouth, followed by two more digits, as his hips rolled into you, skin slapping as you slurped on the digits. 

“Don’t think you can get smart with me, whore.” 

Deidara hissed as you sucked on him from both holes. He hit against your walls, silky and velvety against his overdue cock.

“Got to admit, you’ve got a nice little pussy ― argh,” Deidara bit into his lips as you moaned underneath him. “It really is ― hah ― a piece of art ― hah ― but don’t think you’re getting the best of me ―”

Despite his words, you were getting the best of him. Shit. He had waited too long, and you felt too good. Already, he felt the strain of an oncoming climax. Your breasts bounced and knocked into his chest as he fixed himself hard to you. At a particularly hard thrust, you threw your head back, exposing your pretty neck to him. 

Deidara dove into it, biting at the skin there. Maybe, amongst all the members here, he’d be the one to leave his mark on you …

You raked hard, red lines down his back and Deidara cried out, gritting his teeth. The pleasure married with the pain. So good. So good. 

It would be no good if he came before you did; he would never live it down. Deidara forced a hand down the bridge of your bodies to twirl at your clit.  

“Oh, fuck, mm!” Your legs quivered around him. 

He watched you from the side of his eye. You had the prettiest lips, sweet and plump. 

He felt your clenching, now more involuntary than ever as you cried out. He muffled the sound with a kiss to your abused lips. The squeeze of you was enough to topple him over the edge. Stars and colors swam over his lids as he squeezed his eyes shut, sucking your soul from your lips as orgasms ravaged your body and his ―

A hand dragged him off of you. His cock sprung from your cunt to spray the inside of your thighs with his spent. 

“What the fuck ―?”

“Didn’t think I had to say it,” Kakuzu said, dragging him to the side of the bed. “But: not inside, you idiot.” 

“He really is the youngest of us all,” Hidan teased.

Deidara growled as Kakuzu stared at your cunt, clearly tempted. Deidara stood, ready to fight ―

“Enough.” 

Pain came forward, fully nude. The others parted for him. You sat on the bed, patiently waiting for him, your eyes following him with a reverent dreaminess.

Pain idly wiped away Deidara’s spent with the tail of a sheet, unfazed by it all. “It seems it’s finally my turn.” Again, like no time had passed, he beckoned you on your feet. “Up.”

You did so; standing as he sat. You seemed to read his mind and backed into his legs. Pain scooped you up in his lap, balancing you atop him, inches from his cockhead.

“You’re lovely.” Pain licked the shell of your ear, his chin nestled in your shoulder. He held you above him, hands tucked into the back of your knees. “And your services have been much appreciated tonight. Now, Let me take it from here.”

He sat you on his cock, a hand at your throat to choke you with. 

“Oh!” You jostled as Pain fucked into you from below, your voice muffled with Pain’s hand closing your airways. “O ―Oh!” 

A muffled giggle. “Be careful not to break her, Leader.” Zetsu appeared from the wall. “I’m afraid sometimes you don’t know your own strength.”

“I doubt she would complain,” Pain replied idly, intensely studying your face, firmly fixed in his grip and contorted with pleasure. He slapped his hips into you again and again, the meat of his cock appearing and disappearing, enveloped by your snatch.

The other members congregated to watch the show before them. Deidara ached; his orgasm had been ruined by the fucking ragdoll, and now Pain enjoyed the pussy that had been his only a few moments before. And yet he couldn’t imagine participating unless openly invited by Pain. Deidara gripped his cock, still slick from his time inside of you, and stroked himself to the sight.

Juices mixed around the base of Pain’s cock. You whimpered and moaned, hands clutching his shoulders to keep balance. 

“Oh, gods, Pain, I ― please!”

His other hand toyed with the prominent nipple of your tit, delighted in how it grew under his attention. His balls slapped the fat of your ass with each thrust. You were no lightweight; giving what he gave, syncronizing with his thrusts in no time. Pain huffed. He would not, could not admit to how much he was enjoying this. Some pleasure for his base body, the sweet entrapment of your pussy.

“Your pussy is truly marvelous,” he said, voice like silk. “Is all of this truly for me?”

“Yes!” You cried, not a beat skipped. 

“I think it’s for all of us, Leader,” Zetsu said.

“Hush.”

You fell over Pain, your chest almost crushed to his, dainty hands at his sides. Finally Pain began to display signs of pleasure; closing his many-ringed eyes, his lips parting as you threw yourself down on him and he pulled up to you. The hand previously busy with your tit wove past the dip of your hips. A finger brushed past the cleft of your ass cheek to before it found its target, and prodded ―

“Aah!” You threw your head back, clenching and fluttering around him. “Ah ― Pain!”

You had gotten the best of him; a low grunt escaped Pain as he struck his finger deeper into your asshole.

No one cared for Deidara, for if they did they would see his hand working madly on his cock; his lip sucked under his teeth, ready to bleed. 

“I’m ―” You fell into Pain’s chest, releasing a huff. “I’m gonna ―”

“Go ahead.” Pain’s voice sounded under strain, but still demanding in its gritty hush. “You’ve put on a stunning performance for us tonight. Delight us with one more.”

Pain’s knuckle disappeared into the ring of your ass, the skin of your rear rippling from tight thrusts. With a cry-like whimper, you shuddered and convulsed. Pain’s other hand pressed hard into the small of your back, inadvertently steadying you as you succumbed to his merciless thrusts upward into your spasming cunt.

An near imperceptible “oh” from Pain and a pronounced frown was the only indication he had found his release. All before he lifted you from his cock, coated with your juices, where ropes of his spent escaped and landed to make a mess of your inner thigh.

The sight was so wondrous to distract all other attendants in the room from Dedara finishing with a stifled grunt, ribbons of cum splattering to the floor.

Your forehead rested against Pain’s pectoral. You were lathered in sweat, while Pain, save for some pronounced breathing, had ended the night relatively unscathed.

Hidan clapped slowly as Pain guided you carefully off of him. “Brilliant.” 

“You’re such a prick,” Kakuzu grumbled.

“This was more fun than even I anticipated,” Kisame said, sounding genuinely pleased. “We have to do this again sometime.”

“And we shall.” Pain pet some hair away from your drooping face. Sleep would come soon for you. “We will speak to the madam about our next vis ―” Pain blinked at the floor. “Deidara, clean up after yourself.”

[neowonderland]

Different || l.yy

Summary: Yangyang's tired of fucking pretty girls and boys, so he fucks you.

Pairings: Fuckboy! Yangyang x reader

Warnings: 18+, smut, noncon, choking, sub! Yangyang, university au

Dark Content, Minor please DNI

Disclaimer: this is a work of pure fiction. I do not condone the actions of any characters in this story and the actions do not reflect the idols in any way.

Yangyang knows you like him so, so much. 

He knows he’s attractive, born with a pretty face, pretty voice, pretty body. Yangyang knows he lives in a different world than you, surrounded by adoring fans who live and breathe for him. Everywhere he goes, people are sure to look and follow. He’s never once had an issue with dating or fucking the most attractive men and women, most of them tripping over themselves to get to him. Of course, he indulges in this. How could he not when it’s so pleasurable? It’s a wonderful feeling to feel beautiful and to be seen with someone so attractive. But, routine is boring to Yangyang.

Maybe that’s what draws you to him initially. 

Yangyang knows you find him attractive. He can see it in the way you look at him, the way you post about your love for him on your various social media accounts, the way that you follow his crowd around. 

You’re one of his many admirers but you’re not attractive at all. It’s almost as if you feed into that, never styling yourself in clothes that flatter you. Yangyang’s never seen you talk with another person, much less go out with a friend or go to any social events. He’s pretty sure you’re not in any clubs or any extracurricular activities. He doesn’t even think he's seen you study on campus. 

Yangyang finds it interesting how you act on your feelings. Your social media accounts are all set to private. Besides his public events, he never sees you around. You’re never pushing your way forward in mobs trying to see him or talk to him, always opting to stay in the back. 

Yangyang thinks it’ll be fun to try to fuck you. 

“Good girl, choke me a little harder.” Yangyang gasps, eyes rolling into the back of his skull in pleasure. Yangyang’s splayed out on your couch, leaning back into the headrest. He looks pretty like this, filthy words falling from his pink, bitten lips, drool leaking from his mouth, cheeks tinged pink, chest heaving. His hands are around your waist, fingers digging into your skin enough to leave a bruise. Yangyang moves you up and down his length helping you ride him.

This was not what you wanted your first time to be like. You didn’t want to fuck him at your place on your old couch. You weren’t ready yet. You didn’t want to be forced into Yangyang’s fantasies. You never wanted to fuck Yangyang, at least not like this and definitely not raw.

You reluctantly tighten your grip around his throat and sniffle as more tears slip down your redden cheeks. Your thighs burn from riding him and the stretch of his length burns. Yangyang didn’t bother to prep you properly, only hastingly working you open just enough to be able to force himself into you. You feel gross, sweaty and sticky from sex. 

“Fuck, you feel so good. You’re so good for me, my perfect little slut to mold. You’ll do anything you tell you to do, right?” Yangyang babbles, hands moving you up and down faster. You swear he’s becoming delirious with pleasure and lack of oxygen.

“Yangyang–” You try to speak, to tell him once again to stop, that you’re tired, that he doesn’t have to do this to you, that he can find other people much better than you to fuck. 

“I’m so close. Just a little bit more, I’m gonna cum inside you and you’re gonna take every last drop.” Yangyang groans. 

Alarmed, you remove your hands from Yangyang’s neck and try to pull yourself up from Yangyang’s lap as you plead with him not to cum inside you. It’s futile, as Yangyang shakes his head, tightening his grip on your waist and holding you down as he continues to chase his high. 

It’s repulsive as you feel Yangyang cum inside you. You can feel his length twitch and his hot cum fill you up to the brim as he lets out a loud moan. Yangyang's body shudders as he holds you down as he cums, wanting your warmth to milk his length for all that it’s worth. 

You’re stuck in a daze as Yangyang pulls out from you and you hear Yangyang’s phone camera click with a flash. A memento for himself. 

You vaguely hear Yangyang leave, shutting the front door behind him as he exits while you sit on your couch, Yangyang’s cum leaking out from you and making a mess on your couch.

[fuckyeahasexual]

Any advice for a sex-repulsed aroace trying to write sex scenes? I'm normally so disgusted by them that I skim or skip over them entirely, and I feel weird about writing one myself, but I want to be able to.

Ask yourself why you are trying to write them. If you are trying to write one because you want to "get over it" that motivation is not good and you should put it off until you actively and positively want to engage with the subject. If you want to write it because you want to have a sex scene on your terms and in your style, that will work! So the how becomes "what style do I like?" maybe you like more poetry and vagueness and were going about things too detailed. It is also possible you aren't rooted in your character enough so changing the POV might also help here. Or changing the scene to be more comfortable for you/and your characters. Maybe write a long fic before the sex scene so it feels more natural. Include characters discussing consent and wants openly to each other first. Stuff like that. If you make yourself (or your characters) it's going to lean in self-harm-y and you won't be happy or proud of it. Hope that helps!