#even though they are given the least amount of time

[magpielangs]

i've been thinking a lot about that episode and what it means that BSL is used in it. for one thing, the caption devices are technology carried by the people on the world they visit - they're entirely independent of the TARDIS. (though the TARDIS is probably translating both the spoken and written language into english.)

if we assume the TARDIS does not translate SLs, they are actually using BSL. this has the fun consequence that it would mean the doctor actually knows BSL - which makes sense, we know he's learned languages that the TARDIS can't translate (such as Baby), and considering how much time he ends up spending with brits, BSL would be one of the most useful SLs for him to learn. good for him.

except this episode takes place 500,000 years in the future. these people have never heard of earth or humanity. the likelihood that BSL has somehow remained unchanged? basically zero. which means some amount of translation is happening.

what i think is happening is that the TARDIS does not translate across modalities. spoken language is translated into spoken language, written language into written language, and signed language into signed language. when someone does not know any languages of a given modality, it goes with whatever they have the most exposure to. in this case, we're seeing through the perspective of the companion, a british woman who has most likely had at least brief encounters with BSL even if she does not really understand it. if the TARDIS was built on the assumption that everyone would know a SL, this is reasonable design! (and means the time lords don't suck in quite every way imaginable)

this raises a number of other questions. what counts as the same modality? do whistled languages go together with spoken languages? (they're both sound-based and the TARDIS needs to account for different vocal apparatus, but SLs and writing are treated differently despite both being visual). what about a language based on vibrations propagating through something other than air? would that language based on cephalopod-style color changes everyone comes up with count as signed, written, or something else? how does it translate SLs between species with different limb configurations? what would it do with a language using a medium humans can't perceive, e.g. manipulating electric fields? or a medium time lords can't perceive, if that might be different? if someone speaks multiple languages of the same medium with the same proficiency, how does it choose which to use? i could come up with these and other questions about TARDIS translations for ages

how do science fiction real-time universal translators (the type where people automatically perceive everything as being in their native language as it's being spoken) handle sign languages. does it alter the perception of native sign language speakers so it looks to them like people using spoken language are actually signing? for that matter, would it "translate" written language into a spoken form for someone who natively speaks a spoken-only language?

[lady-quen]

A list of some of my sylvari headcanons and interpretations of canon, but delivered in extreme hodgepodge style:

- they have human-analogous internal anatomy, meaning that they are plant matter mimicking animal functionalities, inside and out. This is further supported by Mordrem possessing specialized organs such as brains or kidneys (Mordrem Researcher quests) Since the Pale Tree grew on the graves of Ronan's family, she grew her roots into what remained of the bodies, taking nutrients while also learning their anatomy and establishing a scaffolding for the future sylvari. You know how if you bury a body under a tree and later dig up the soil, the roots are shaped like a human? Something similar happened here.

As such, sylvari hardwood skeletal systems are very accurate copies of human skeletons, but soft tissues are more their own thing due to the Pale Tree having less of an accurate frame of reference (since the bodies would have begun to rot) and going with a mix of her knowledge of human anatomy and "instinctive" Mordrem anatomy.

- The wiki states they don't have hearts and a pulse, but relying on purely osmotic gradients for circulation in an ambulatory creature that is stated to have high energy needs and therefore is even unable to rely solely on photosynthesis and other typical plant processes seems implausible, so I changed it to give them some sort of pump organ, positioned more or less in the center of the chest.

- The sylvari don't really have names for their own organs, so they approximate using human vocabulary.

- Sylvari tend to sleep deeper, but can train themselves to have a lighter sleep if required (such as, in dangerous field jobs.) The extra deep sleep sometimes causes nearby sylvari to synchronize their dreams and even "meet" in a hazy dreamscape, a faint remnant of the actual Dream.

- Sylvari sap does not contain platelets, but injury stimulates phloem cells and/or skin cells to swell and constrict, then release a substrate which reacts with certain substances contained within the sap to create a clot-like resin.

- Given enough time, sylvari resin exposed to outside conditions could potentially turn into amber?

- The fact sylvari breathe with their lungs (since they are unable to rely solely on diffusion) implies they possess blood cells and some sort of chromoprotein to carry oxygen? Further supported by the existence of the Mordrem Spleen. Alternatively, they utilize natural magic to speed up diffusion..?

- Sylvari most likely do not possess adaptive immune systems and rely on innate tissue-level strategies to fend off pathogens, like other plants.

- Sylvari awaken with shaper magic, as in the ability to magically and empathically influence other plants. Some specialized Shapers train this ability to use in plant sculpting and architecture, and creating various purposed species such as turret plants. Wardens find it useful to train themselves to read and use other plants as early warning signs for incoming danger. Very rarely, certain sylvari, particularly necromancers, can awaken with little to no shaper magic.

Shaper abilities can be used to alter one's own body, to the point of completely changing one's appearance and even gender if desired, though such a process takes some time. (Perhaps months?)

- Mordremoth, possessing vast amounts of control over plant shaping, can rearrange a sylvari body completely in a matter of hours to days.

- Considering real-life plants rely predominantly on hydraulics rather than electric signaling, logic-ing out an internally consistent and plausible anatomy for ambulatory plants is very difficult (impossible?) thus sylvari must at least possess predominantly electric pathways, essentially mimicking a human nervous system. Many processes would also likely require "it's magic" as an explanation, which makes sense if we consider they are dragon minions, which were probably originally meant to help process and store magic energy at least to some degree.

- Science of sapient walking plants, what the fuck.

- Thank you Tree Mom 🙏

[howlsofbloodhounds]

I feel like Killer will always be more afraid of Chara then Nightmare. There are ways Nightmare can hurt him that Chara can’t and Vice versa the only difference I think is that a lot of the stuff Nightmare does Chara can also do. Manipulative Killer emotions even when otherwise emotional yes sure Chara could manipulate him using the knowledge they have knowing what would affect him or even go the direct route of taking his soul and forcing it to feel a certain way.

The main thing is that he has more options and control with Nightmare then he ever had with Chara. There’s nothing preventing him from dying eventually wether it’s bloodloss, by the boss hand, sickness or even old age he’ll eventually go with Chara though it would have been eternal neverevending beginning. I feel like a lot of Nightmare punishments at the start didn’t work all to well Killer knew he could use that fact to his advantage by guiding and manipulating Nightmare to focus on something’s while not even realizing other options. Manipulating Nightmare to give him punishments he knows he can deal with. He can deal with the physical torment, exhaustion and even the manipulation. But, Nightmare doesn’t know him like Chara does, doesn’t know the ways to really make Killer scared. Also I feel like one of the things Chara did was to ensure in Killer mind that they are the only one he’s allowed to be afraid of. Although If he was forced to choose between Nightmare or Chara where Chara has the power again he would choose Chara out of fear and loyalty. I don’t think it ever really wavered the choice of Chara over any others no matter how much he resents them.

~Musical Anon

Also, Chara was more Determined than Killer once upon a time. They appeared to have controlled the Reset (they didn’t, the Player did)—at the push of their finger, everything could go back and replay again.

At some point, Sans stopped wanting to go back—he wanted to stop, or move forward. (*Or at least, this is what the human claims to know he wants.)

I’m sure the threat of being Reset being held over him is still something that he wants to avoid even as Killer, even if he may’ve lost track of the exact reasons for why that is. The Resets were the reason he lost his grasp on telling what is and isn’t real, after all.

If you want to lean into the cultish elements of Killer, Chara, and the Player—there may also be a sense of something like worship here, if Chara was viewed as a vessel for the Player and that was something viewed as almost holy.

I suppose it depends on if Chara is still the most Determined now or if Killer remains so, and if his time with Chara still holds tight in his mind. But i definitely do think he’d choose Chara over Nightmare if Chara were to ever appear to have that same amount Determination, that power and control.

It also can’t be overlooked that there was a narrative created that Killer and Chara were partners. They were in it together, doing it all together.

It’s a farce hiding the physiological and emotional power dynamics underneath, I’m sure Killer was or became aware of that eventually (given how he reacted upon gaining more Determination), but there was never such a narrative with Nightmare.

The hierarchy was clear and open. Wonder if, even if he chooses Chara, he may want the honesty and openness of what Nightmare provided. He’d likely not say anything about it to Chara, though. He doesn’t really tend to realize that comprises or negotiations are possible in relationships of any kind.

* Had to edit that in because it’s important.

[esoanem]

The historical Jesus as portrayed in the gospels would almost certainly have known Hebrew, even though Aramaic was probably his native language. Over the past few years we've had increasing evidence for the continued late use of Hebrew as a vernacular everyday language to the extent that we now believe native Hebrew speakers wouldn't have been especially unusual in late Second Temple Judaea (although native Aramaic speakers would certainly have been more common).

That fact, combined with his ability to engage with Jewish religious life without apparent language barriers also suggests that he had decent command of Hebrew at least as it was used liturgically, and given its fairly close relationship with Aramaic (and the two had had 2000 years less time to diverge from one another) it seems very likely that he could at least understand spoken Hebrew with little difficulty, and probably speak it at least fairly well.

The language of the Roman administration (and even before that to an extent in the late Hasmonaean administration) in the East was indeed Greek - Latin was mostly used specifically by and within the military (again, this is in the East, in the West Latin was used for all purposes). As such it seems likely that his Greek would be better than his Latin, although how well he spoke either is less clear. He is portrayed as able to speak to Pontius Pilate without an interpreter (although this may be artistic licence) which may indicate a reasonable ability in Greek.

For Latin there's no real Biblical evidence for any particular competency there. His interactions with soldiers (the only real group we can assume to be using Latin) are either fairly brief and perfunctory, or with ones who are of higher class and/or have been stationed in Judaea for some time (and so are more likely to be able to speak Greek or even Aramaic). That in mind, he may have understood a few basic phrases, especially orders that soldiers might give, but likely not much more.

This presents an image of someone who was probably fluent in at least two languages (Aramaic & Hebrew), with decent competency or possible fluency in a third (Greek), something that would have been extremely common in 1st century Judaea.

You've got to remember that widespread monolingualism is a relatively recent phenomenon largely developing out of powerful states with centralised bureaucracies and education systems.

For King Arthur, his historicity is much more in question, and our accounts all date to much longer after his death, making him much harder to nail down.

That said, if we accept him as a leader of the (Romano-)British against the Anglo-Saxon invasions, who died in the first half of the 6th century and was based in what's now Southeast England (which seems the most likely candidate if he was historical), we can assume that we spoke some form of Late Common Brythonic or a very early form of either Old Welsh or Old Cornish (unfortunately we don't have any real linguistic evidence for the state of Brythonic here, and have to infer from the situation before and after) and British Romance (which would likely have just been perceived as "bad Latin" by educated people rather than a distinct language). If he was educated (which need not be the case) he may also have been able to read and write Latin in a fairly classical style, although as was typical of the era he would likely have read Latin words as their British Latin descendants.

It's plausible he may have known some amount of (Very) Old English, but that could be anything from just enough to know that a noble in front of you in a battle is surrendering, to being able to conduct diplomacy in their native language without interpreters. I think it's probably most likely that it was nearer the former though (especially if we assume his piety in later sources was present in a historical Arthur, as that would likely lead to him looking down on the language of the pagan Anglo-Saxons).

This was also a period with significant raids in the area from Ireland (ultimately leading to the Christianisation of Ireland, but also the introduction of ogham to mainland Britain) so similar arguments can be made for some competency in Primitive Irish. Given the closer relationship between Primitive Irish and Common Brythonic though, and other indicators of closer interaction like the (limited) adoption of ogham I think it'd be likely his Primitive Irish was significantly better than his Old English though.

I'm sure the priests in charge of translating ecclesiastical stuff into Latin since that is the official and authoritative language really love the Latin and whatever but i wonder if they have moments where theyre translating some menial stuff knowing full well that the only people that will read the Latin version are at best some Catholic school Latin classes doing a unit on Church Latin and are just like "You know, there used to be an actual point behind doing this"

[longagoitwastuesday]

People with Toj.i loving (or even Get.o loving tbh) usernames liking my JJK posts is always kinda baffling. They make me check my tags on the posts they liked because either I wasn't clear about how much I abhor that man in them or they are very open to criticism about their fave character/the character they have the hots for

[seilon]

If i don’t get an update soon on my god damn top surgery insurance negotiation im going to lose my fucking mind

[icewindandboringhorror]

Hrmm... put together a roommates quiz finally after years of thinking it would be an interesting idea lol.. Though obviously not meant to be taken super seriously, I just like thinking about this aspect of personality compatibility. Like yeah, maybe you could get along with someone just chatting with them, but living together is such a different thing. .. curiouse...

[lususnatura]

it hadn't even occurred to blamore that one could potentially use the green to create new human life-forms. however, if he did know that such a thing was on someone like ivy's mind... he would likely understand at least some of the devastation that came with her trying to do that and ultimately failing. whether it was a blessing or a curse was irrelevant at that moment — blamore didn't have anywhere near close the amount of power she had over plants. so, just the fact that ivy was able to feel their pain would be enough to make it pity the other. but in any case, the fact that his own bodily autonomy had essentially been taken from him because of the green was something horrifying, but it did connect him to other's experiences with it such as ivy's and alec holland's, or swamp thing's.

blamore looked down at the 'grippy socks' that the hospital had apparently found it necessary to clothe him with then. it was used to going either barefoot or running around in thin sandals, so it felt a bit odd; but it wouldn't be an exaggeration to say that one this whole situation had blamore feeling odd. blamore had been nervous to reveal this information to harley before out of fear that she might not understand, after all, but it seemed like she actually thought very similarly to it. gender was a social construct that was constantly being re-shaped by society in terms of what was viewed as being 'masculine' or 'feminine.' but who even decided that such a thing needed to be defined in the first place, anyway?

he supposed that having such classifications allowed people to connect with people more easily in a way, but at the same time, it also divided people. blamore crossed his arms at the mention of french not making sense before feigning an incredulous scoff as if he was angry at harley, ❝ oh, my gosh. i can't believe you just said something that's completely true! you're such a bully for insulting my language like that, chère — i hope you know that, ❞ he very lightly pushed onto one of the other's shoulders then to continue putting on this act that it was offended when he really wasn't. blamore was merely messing around with her, as evidenced by the smile that it couldn't help but let spread across its lips.

whenever harley dove into the subject of gender then, he suddenly felt a lot less wary about sharing what he'd been keeing under wraps from her. and that was because he feared he might be rejected by her. but honestly, harley was one of the most nice people he'd met just overall — not even in only the criminal underworld of gotham — so reflecting back on it... blamore didn't know what it was so worried about now. a hum of approval left its lips at the way she pointed out that trying to put a label on different things in regard to what it meant to be male or female was kind of counterproductive (especially considering that could be a rather polarizing topic).

❝ yeah, i suppose you're right about that. but at the same time, the way in which society has created these 'norms' around gender have allowed people to feel like they have a community with others. though its at the expense of it being harder to define yourself as an individual and also to have harmful stereotypes tacked onto you sometimes, which... certainly doesn't make the whole idea seem good. i just have been experimenting with it for a while myself and its weird because, before i became this, i felt like people wouldn't respect the fact that i might want to be called different things so i held off from bringing it up.

but i guess becoming a plant monster hasn't been all bad in the way that its somehow given me more confidence about my gender. so, i wanted to tell you this eventually, but you can still call me your boyfriend if you want; though i would also like to be referred to using neutral pronouns, particularly 'it' or 'its' at times. do you think that that's something you could please do for me? ❞ blamore clasped its hands together in front of itself as if to say 'please' once more before nodding in response to what harley was telling it. ❝ i understand. and i'm more than happy with you being a tomboy, though i'd still be your partner if you ever changed your mind about things. it also makes me happy to hear that you're willing to accept others like that so long as they're not hurting anyone else; that's a good quality to have. ❞

his bony tail curled up to resemble a '6' against his body as he coughed into his elbow, grabbing the sandals he came to the hospital in and taking off the socks with a groan. they were starting to irritate the lichen on his feet, so he changed to tying the sandals around his ankles and walking around in them. ❝ yeah, they told me that the chest tube takes two days... m-minimum, to get all the excess air out of your lungs. that branch had another seed attached to it, so its obvious to me now that this isn't an isolated thing. ❞ blamore coughed once more into its elbow before throwing the seed into the bag it had. it looked confused at the others comment, tilting its head at harley.

❝ growth and attachment? you mean, like, what would happen if you allowed it to fully grow and how it'd attach itself to a structure - like me? make all the pregnancy jokes you want, but i think that that 'child' of mine was that branch that was in the sink because it sprouted out around my spine. food sounds amazing right now, though. i haven't eaten anything since last night, before the surgery. ❞ blamore gave the other's hand a light squeeze before he leaned his head down to kiss the other's knuckles.

a chuckle came from him at the way she stated she wouldn't be letting him on top of the greenhouse. ❝ ahh... there's that protective spirit of yours rearing its head again. though don't worry. it's not like i could even go up there right now if i wanted to, harley. nico told me that he reached out to a person who could fix it, and he said that the estimated time to do so would be three weeks. so i won't be touching it for a while. ❞

Harley winced at the talk about some plants not need outside influences to reproduce. It took her back to a dark time where Ivy was determined to get Harley to stay. It was to the point of trying to create plant children. Children born of the green. In retrospect giving her something responsive that could bridge the gap of communication and make her mother, wasn't too far out there. The problem was that the experiment worked but it was Harley who had to watch life wither in front of her. Pam would find out the hard way that she would be connected and feel their death, something Harley felt was a lesson warranted.

She sat solemn for a moment unable not to remember that moment but quickly shook her head conscious of the conversation. She didn't seem too alarmed as coming to terms with ones individuality was hard. Harley even struggled with this on occasion, but the further she got into psychology the more she didn't really care for gender studies.

" I always felt gender was like a Freudian study. It doesn't really make sense. Kinda like tha' French language. Ya' have masculine and feminine notations fa' pens 'en pencils," she laughed.

" I feel if ya' create these nonexistent lines inta' what is it to be male or female you will always neva' quite be in one or tha' other. I jus' want people ta' be their authentic selves? If it leads to experimenting into things to find out ... good if you make sure ya' ain't hurting someone in tha' process. As fa' me... I've been mostly coined feminine. I can't change my features. Trust me jus' a pair of glasses didn't mask much. I got a touch more respect but not enough. I mostly enjoy tha' company of men, hence why I didn't really have many female partners. So... yer' gonna simply get a tomboy. I'm gonna get dirty, fix cars, enjoy a drink or hang out in dives but I still like to be flirty 'en dress up. Dote on people when I can. I'm just me," she said with a shrug unsure if the talk helped.

Letting go of his tail she saw the hospital made them jittery. It was funny as she may as well have been much the same if she were in the gown.

"Woooahhh... its okay. I got ya. You said two days here. One okay... yer' actually doin' really well. Betta' than most but gotta make sure everything holds. ANddddddd oddly the branch in tha' sink... not yer' usual stuff. I gotta say yer' handling this better than I would. My mind has gone ta' implantin' that seed into a specimen just to study growth and attachment... and you look like its simply something of a collection piece. I feel disgusting for even thinking... Yer' right food... should order food," Harley blabbed before taking Balmore's hand for support.

Taking a breath she looked up at Balmore's eyes. "Ya' know I may not let ya' up ontop of the greenhouse fa' a long time."

[autumnrory]

i figure they’ll drop it in a few eps like they have with everything else but it would be a little funny if after all the barchie vs varchie shit that they just made beronica endgame

[nexus-nebulae]

another childhood bucket list item obtained: i finally have a snuggie

[bigironjuliette]

Realizing there are things Wrong With Me

[vogelmeister]

anyways i am feeling kinda brave today so im gonna share a potentially unpopular taylor swift hot take. when i was talking to my friend yesterday about ttpd i realised that i kinda have a similar problem with the anthology as i do with evermore.

like don't get me wrong, both have absolute gems (willow, tolerate it, long story short, gold rush and NBNC from evermore are great and i love the albatross, so high school, the prophecy black dog, manuscript etc) but i think both collections (bc anthology is not an album) suffer because they came out connected to a much superior more cohesive work, and both almost feel like rejects from the body of work that proceeded it.

[winnie1emon]

✧.* now what happens when you find a frustrated theodore nott on the quidditch pitch...?

theodore nott x prefect!lamb!reader (fem pov)

word count: approx. 2.4k

cw: MDNI!!, smut, dom!theo, innocent!reader, sexual language, praise, piv, fingering, unprotected sex, face painting lmao, slight exhibitionism(?)(on the quidditch stands lol)

a/n: first smut fic like ever i fear... don't bully please </3 + been working on this sleep-deprived, lmk about spelling mistakes :(

"Hey- hey!" you said loudly over the raging music, leaning over your friend's shoulder. "I'm gonna go; got prefect duty!"

Your friend, too engrossed in your house's quidditch victory party after they had beaten Slytherin earlier that evening, gave you a mere nod before realizing you actually said something. "Really? There are other prefects out anyways and you never find anyone. Don't be lame, just stay!"

"No, it's fine. I like walking outside anyways, it's fun," you explained, garnering a rather dismissive wave goodbye from your friend.

You trudged down the corridors searching for the way out of the castle. Curfew was approaching and you were given the task of finding a few stragglers outdoors; a task you most appreciated due to the fact you'd never find anybody and you were usually lucky with receiving ample amounts of good weather.

Too comfortable with the usual, you spent most of your patrol time frolicking on the grassy fields and never looked too carefully for any students. You were about to head back inside when you saw the broom shed's door open. Curiously, you peered inside and nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary...

A bit daunted, you closed the door and suddenly saw movement in the corner of your eye. You whipped around quickly, seeing someone flying on the quidditch pitch. You made your way into the pitch, assuming it was some overzealous lowerclassman riding on their broomstick.

As you made your way into the pitch, you realized how large it really was, somewhat awestruck. Hearing a distressed grunt, you turned around and saw the person who was flying, quite a distance away, chuck their broom onto the ground. You hastened over and the image came into view. Their brunette waves became clearer with each step you took and you managed to get their attention.

"H-hey!" You waved. You came to a stop in front of them, slightly huffing as they looked at you acutely. "Theodore, it's curfew in like... oh, two minutes ago."

Theodore raised an eyebrow at your words, seeming as if he had no idea who you were. "What?" he asked you, even though he heard what you said.

"It's past curfew, you can't be here," you said patiently. "What are you even doing here?"

"What's it look like?" he retorted. "Practicing," he added before you could answer his rhetoric question.

"Well... you should practice tomorrow. You already had that game today, you should take a break," you suggested.

He gave you what was probably the most condescending look ever, roaming over your figure. "Yeah, and we lost, princess. Need to practice."

"Don't overwork yourself," you said, your voice tinged with concern. "You were great today, I saw!"

"Mhm, probably cheering on your house, yeah?" he sneered. "Just get lost, I'm not harmin' anyone by practicing, but you're going to tell someone aren't you?" He looked a bit taut and you couldn't help but feel a bit of pity for him. After all, he wasn't the worst player on his team yet he was the only one here practicing, probably losing hairs in the process.

"No, I won't tell anyone," you said quickly. "You look exhausted though. At least sit down." You trailed all the way to one of the tall wooden towers going up to the quidditch spectator stands, feeling the wooden bench poke your thighs. Surprisingly, he sat beside you on your right with a grunt, running his hands through his hair.

Well, now what.

You peered at him in wonderment as his gaze was set straight, admiring his birthmark. Your eyes trailed around the side of his face, looking at his thick, dark brows and then at his slightly unkempt hair. He turned suddenly to face you and you darted your head away, embarrassed. He let out a small scoff, throwing his head down in a smirk.

"So," you started. "You like quidditch?" you asked dumbly. He obviously did... he plays.

"I do," he responded. "When we win."

"You guys almost did," you consoled him, tentatively reaching to rub his shoulder.

Theodore didn't protest, finding the way your palm's touch warmed his shoulder unexpectedly comforting. He looked at your seemingly apologetic face before his eyes wandered down your form, going from your neck and then down to your legs.

"Mm, almost."

Fidgeting with your fingers, you spoke up again. "Yeah, almost! Almost is good!" You reassured him. "Don't beat yourself up-- you're already so stressed." You recalled the instances in class where he'd focus on his work, the times you saw him in the library as you patrolled the halls, and the way he never seemed to hang out with his friends this past week.

"Oh princess," he said, calling you that nickname again, making you turn a light shade of pink. "When has almost winning ever helped anyone? What can I do about the stress? Nothing's going to change if I don't work." He gave a nonchalant shrug, breaking contact with your sorry eyes as he buried his head in his hands.

"Uhm... I mean, do you want help?" You peered at him, wide-eyed and full of pity.

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

And that's how you found yourself sitting on the open quidditch stands, thighs squeezed together with your head downcast as Theodore rubbed lazy circles over your underwear.

"I-I don't really see how this is supposed to help you," you mumbled.

He used his other hand to hold your chin gently, guiding your head to face him. "You think seeing a pretty girl like you lookin' like this doesn't help me?" he simpered. You felt your face heat up from the compliment, shifting your thighs to press against each other some more.

He let go of your chin and you looked down to watch him spread your thighs apart gently. Despite never being his friend, his touch felt familiar, even soothing. In fact, you didn't protest against him, even when you felt him slip your underwear to the side and insert a thick finger into your cunt.

Your mouth agape, you turned to look at him, brows knitting together as he met your gaze with a lascivious smile. You pressed your lips together to try and catch your breath, but it only lasted a few seconds as your lips parted once he entered another digit into you. He moved slowly, not taking his eyes off of yours, drinking in your dazed look.

You felt his pace increase, his fingers going in and out of your now glossy cunt rapidly, and let out a shaky moan which made Theodore's mouth contort in a wicked smile. You threw your head back, looking up at the greying sky. He leaned closer to you, his warm breath hitting your ear as he whispered.

"Feels good, yeah? Feels good to help me decompress hm?" He asked you quietly, having you squirm from his touch. You nodded meekly and let out a small yeah in response.

You had never experienced anything like this before. You were sort of scared, but also excited... maybe a bit confused? ...happy to help?

His touch eventually slowed, his two now-soaked fingers leaving your cunt as he held them up in front of you. Your eyes followed his fingers, your face turning into that of surprise as he brought his fingers into his mouth momentarily.

"So sweet..." he breathed out. "Come on, open up," he slapped your cheek lightly with his clean hand.

You opened your mouth slightly, your eyes looking reluctant.

"Come on, don't be scared," he cooed. You opened a little wider and he gently placed the two fingers on your tongue. You swirled your tongue around slowly, tasting sweet, kind of salty as well, but you weren't sure if that was you or his fingers. Taking in your appearance with his fingers in your mouth, he gave a breathy chuckle. "Cute."

He stood up from the bench with a sigh, taking a step in front of you. "Just one more thing, that okay?" he asked, the corners of his mouth curving into a smile.

"Yeah- yeah sure," you agreed. Even though you were unfamiliar with what you guys were doing, you were just glad you could help him out in some way.

"Good girl. --Has anyone told you how sweet you are?" He leaned forward slightly and cupped your cheeks to tilt your head upwards as you stayed seated on the bench.

"Some people, mhm," you nodded.

"Well, they weren't lying." He complimented you casually, making your stomach lurch in an oddly pleasant way. You adverted your gaze so you could soak in his compliment, your head then snapping up at the sound of a zipper. He gave you a wink that you'd be thinking about for the next week and a dazzling smile that you couldn't protest against.

He guided your legs up off the ground so you'd be kneeling on the stands bench and turned you around, having you facing opposite of the center of the quidditch pitch, towards the castle. Your eyes widened from the circumstances, the risk of being so exposed. You heard him shuffle a little behind you, the sound of his pants going down, boxers following.

You felt one of his cold fingers brush against your skin as he pushed your skirt up, making you shudder. He pulled your sodden underwear down and you heard him take a sharp inhale. His fingers ran over your folds, eliciting a groan from him. "You're so wet... n' you've never done this?" he asked you.

You shook your head, making him sigh.

"And you really want to give this to me?"

"Yeah, I do," you muttered quietly. You didn't care that it was Theodore, you just saw him as someone who needed some help and you were going to give it to them... Oh, who were you kidding? Of course you cared that it was Theodore. The Slytherin that you'd always catch yourself ogling at during the quidditch games, the one you'd stare at in potions, the guy you'd hold the door open for before Charms class.

Seeing no reason to delay his pleasure, Theodore positioned himself between your legs, holding your waist from behind as he pushed the tip of his cock into your ready cunt. You couldn't help the large gasp you let out while he stretched you out. You tried to recuperate momentarily, but he continued to enter you slowly, feeling as if there was no end.

"Fuck, you feel so good," he murmured. He slid in and out of you slowly, picking up the pace over time before you started to let out involuntary moans.

"Theo- Theodore," you huffed out, almost whining. "The castle-- someone could see us," you worried.

His pace becoming incontinent, he brushed off your concern with ease. "No one will, okay?"

Even with his reassurance, you couldn't help but feel sheepish, your anxiety spiking as the thrill got to you.

"Oh my g-god," you moaned. Theodore leaned into your back, head resting on the nape of your shoulder. He snaked his arm on your other shoulder, putting you in a headlock. You brought your hands up to hold his arm, your mind going blank as he started up a relentless speed on you and had his other arm travel down to rub on your clit.

"Shh, shh," he whispered. "Now they will see us if you don't quiet down, yeah?" You nodded in agreement, understanding that you mustn't be loud. After a few minutes of biting back your moans as he drilled into you, he positioned you to lie on your back, on one of the benches. You complied and allowed him to reposition himself into you.

"F-fuck!" You mewled, unable to contain yourself in the new position.

"Shh, shh, shhh..." he shushed you once again, covering your mouth with a large hand as the other held both of your legs against his chest. "Be quiet for me, okay? You can do it," he murmured into your ear, leaning forward to kiss your cheek.

You nodded slowly as you looked up at him when he pulled his head away from you. "Good... so good."

So entranced by his eye contact, your brain drowned out the sounds of his cock going in and out of your sopping cunt, forgetting all about your precarious surroundings.

You felt the knot in your stomach begin to unravel and you knew that your orgasm was nearing. You clawed at Theodore's hand that was on your mouth and he let go, allowing your ragged gasps to float out into the air.

"You okay?" he asked you. "You close?" He couldn't help but smile endearingly at your state, horribly disheveled, biting your own lip to keep yourself from attracting attention.

"Mm," you nodded weakly, feeling your legs begin to shake. As you came undone, you felt him slow down, letting out groans of his own. You bit down on your lips harder and you could feel tears creeping into your eyes as you felt overloaded with sensations. He pulled out of you with a light pop and stepped towards your head.

He had his cock a few inches above your face and looked hesitant before asking, "May I?"

You honestly weren't very sure of what he was requesting, but you let out a soft yeah, being surprised once he spilled onto your face.

Your lips parted into an o-shape as you squinted slightly. After one last drop, you ran a finger on your cheek, observing the mark he left on you trailing down your finger. He dropped his hands to his side and crouched down to be face level with you. He cupped your face with his hands as he ushered you to sit up.

"You're a sweetheart, so nice of you to help," he praised. Even though he had just done things to you that you'd never even been brave enough to imagine an hour prior, you couldn't fight back the bashful look on your face.

"Of course," you whispered. "Do you feel better?" you asked, pulling your underwear back up.

"Yeah, yeah I do," he chortled. He leaned forward, pressing a kiss on your forehead.

You saw the sky darkening by the second and looked out the pitch. "Oh! Someone's coming!" you exclaimed.

He gave a mischievous smile that you could stare at for days, planted a quick kiss on your lips, and grabbed your hand to stand you up, brushing ur skirt down to cover your behind.

"Then let's go."

―――――――――ʚ♡ɞ―――――――――

[cloyingblccd]

It was embarrassing, how much effort Zak had put in, desiring Ritu's attention but running out of means to keep it. It’d been going on for the last 20 minutes at least, and by this point, there were really no more card tricks in the world to present to her. None on their level, considering they couldn't even pull off the easiest of them, all falling out of his favour. They’d never been good at it in the first place, let alone when they were on the brink of needing to squeeze an eye closed just to see her individually. They weren’t at that level yet, hesitating to reach for the second joint they had tucked in their pocket - even pausing before continuing with the drink they’d been given once they’d first entered the party. It looked like sewage and tasted like someone mixed lightning with Kool-Aid. “Shit.” They weren’t sure what the opposite of Eight of Clubs was - King of Diamonds felt like it could be a contender though.

“You think I’m pretty?” They asked, the same time Soren chose that moment to come bursting back into their atmosphere, holding a bong piece the same height as him. “Ritu - where have you been -?” Pausing, megawatt smile on his face that only widened when he took in the sight in front of him. It wasn’t a particularly intimate scene, but it didn’t stop Soren from flashing Ritu a giant thumbs up with a wild nod, before Zak glanced at him over their shoulder. They would have given Soren a proper greeting, but they didn’t know him well and truthfully, couldn’t remember what his name was. “Nevermind! Have fun kids!” He finally imparted, dipping around them and behind Ritu - before flashing Zak a familiar encouraging smile. Followed by an obnoxiously lude gesture of dipping his index finger between a circle created with his other hand, barbarically tall bong piece pressed between his knees so he could carry out the motion. “Um -,” Doing a quick double take, when Zak finally turned back to Ritu, their cheeks were flushed - a noticeable amount. Left a bit stunned, staring instead of actually saying anything, before finally bursting into somewhat hysterical but still delicate chuckles. “Yeah, think I need to give up the life of magic.” They mumbled, swallowing down the last gulp of their drink forcefully. “You’re not bad, though. As an audience member, I mean. If I ever torture myself with trying it out again would you go on the road with me?”

she  isn't  usually  a  party  sort  of  girl.  no,  not  in  a  '  i'm  not  like  other  girls  '  type  of  way.  in  fact,  she  often  wishes  she  could  be  more  like  those  girls  —  the  ones  who  seemed  to  light  up  a  room  with  a  mere  smile,  who  managed  to  have  fun  and  make  friends  no  matter  where  they  went.  she's  more  the  type  to  stick  to  the  walls,  preferring  observation  over  active  participation,  save  for  an  interlude  or  two  to  tell  a  particularly  bright  shining  star  how  gorgeous  their  outfit  is.  and  that's  on  the  rare  occasion  that  she  does  attend  a  party,  talked  into  it  by  soren  —  who  somehow  always  manages  to  inconspicuously  disappear  from  her  line  of  sight  about  five  minutes  in.  that  blonde  little  imp.

thankfully,  she  was  saved  from  a  fate  of  awkwardly  standing  around  and  bopping  her  head  to  the  music  tonight,  a  familiar  face  dragging  her  out  of  her  shell  and  onto  the  main  floor  --  if  only  to  show  her  a  series  of  card  tricks  that  fail  miserably  each  and  every  time.  she  watches  on  with  a  mixture  of  amusement  and  fond  exasperation  as  she  watches  them  shuffle  the  deck  once  more,  pulling  out  a  card  that  couldn't  be  farther  from  the  one  she  chose.  she  ponders  the  decision  between  hurting  zak's  feelings  or  preserving  the  sanctity  of  magic  tricks,  with  the  second  option  eventually  winning  as  she  shakes  her  head.  "  mine  was  the  eight  of  clubs.  "  words  accompanied  by  an  exaggerated  sigh.  "  you're  lucky  you're,  like,  sooo  pretty,  zak.  don't  quit  your  day  job.  "

[i2sunric]

𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐂𝐇 𝐌𝐀𝐃𝐄 𝐈𝐍 𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐋 (l.hs)

PAIRING: demon!heeseung x angel!reader (f)

SUMMARY: in a world where you either become angels or demons in the afterlife, heeseung and you were fates of high ranking. despite all the strict rules cast upon you, you two couldn't help but drown in the forbidden feeling of your love.

WARNINGS: kinktober. frforbidden love, mentions of blood and wounds, angels and demons, lucifer and God (i do not intend to offend anyone), sexual tension, smut, dry humping, making out, missionary, this is basically love making, cream pie, unprotected sex (don’t be silly, wrap your willy!) fluff, pet names (angel, baby), bad jokes abt heaven and hell (lame ik), lmk if more. NOT PROOFREAD.

PUBLISHED: 26th October 2024

WC: 3.7k

TAGLIST: (permanent) @stolasisyourparent @jaeyunsbimbo @jwnghyuns @bangtancultsposts @shawnyle @jooniesbears-blog @skzenhalove @ro-diaries @onlyhyunjin @xcosmi @strawberrhypen @heeheeswifey @destinyhoon @jakeflvrz @emislove @astratlantis @tunafishyfishylike @branchrkive @insommni4 @kirinaa08 @leiclerc @nxzz-skz @laurradoesloveu @beomluvrr @heeshlove (oneshot) @mitmit01 @lost-fantasy @annoyednblax @j1sb4e @eneiyri @strayy-kidz @victoriasvz @farashawhee @mheretoreadff @hazycottagedreams @kxppachu @rayofsunshineeee @moon368 @punchbug9-blog @strxwbloody @starggukies @wonbonie @304files @ethelia @moonpri @chuckychangmin @roslayy @cyjhhyj @iamliacamila @lanpanaz BOLDS COULD NOT BE TAGGED

NOW PLAYING: MATCH MADE IN HELL by Dutch Melrose and benny mayne

a/n: honestly (yet again) i don’t really like how it turned out, lol. the smut is mid and isn’t very filthy but hey, i tried. please lmk your thoughts and REBLOG to spread 🫶🩷. i’m not sure i’ll publish my other kinktober works (vampire sunghoon and werewolf jay), cause i won’t be able to finish them on time.

In a world where in the afterlife you become either angels and demons, based on the amount of sins one commits in their previous life, you were the wisest angel.

Of course, being God’s right arm didn’t always mean having cool jobs, like at that moment, while you were searching through all the death certificates of your chosen region to see who would become an angel and find him a place in heaven.

You remembered how it used to be overcrowded, but now it was almost empty.

After a certain amount of time, you stopped being someone’s guardian angel to either reincarnate or stay the eternity in heaven, helping newbie angels and making sure everything was at peace.

Demons would always try to bring chaos into the mundane world, throwing unlucky cards or haunting people’s dreams, trying to drive them insane or make them commit crimes, such as murder, mugging or even as cruel as suicide.

At least, you were given a room to rest for a couple of hours and to be able to do your job properly.

It was white, mostly, with a little bit of beige and pinkish tone. Glittery as well.

Sitting on your desk, you were scanning through the nth file of the night when you heard a loud cracking sound and a groan behind you.

You turned around just to see that Heeseung had teleported there, a deep frown on his face caused by the even deeper cut in his chest, where blood was spilling out.

“Heeseung!” You gasped, and he stumbled as you stood up.

He was the nastiest demon of hell, you two had arrived around at the same time and had always been in a fight since the beginning of your astral days.

Heeseung chuckled, his face paler than usual as he clutched the gash on his chest “It’s just a little cut.” He tried to brush it off, though you were sure if any human had that kind of injury, it would’ve been fatal.

He limped forward, leaning against the wall, giving you one of his usual cocky smirks “No need to worry.”

His smirk would’ve even been hot if he wasn’t bleeding out in the middle of your room, which happened to also be in heaven, a place he definitely shouldn’t be.

Heeseung couldn’t die because, well, he already did. But the healing process would’ve hurt as much as dying another time would.

You hurried towards him, forgetting the work on your desk as you helped him on the bed “What happened?”

He groaned loudly, lowering himself onto the bed and flopping onto it as he clutched his chest, trying to keep the blood from gushing out of his body.

Heeseung hissed, looking up at you with a frown. "Got into a little fight", He muttered, "Can't you just heal me up?" He asked, tilting his head to the side slightly as he smiled at your worried expression.

“With who?” You asked as you unbuttoned his mutilated black shirt and winced when you noticed in what state his skin was.

Dark blood spilled out of the gash, his veins had turned black from some kind of venom you couldn’t quite point out “Or what..?” You asked, knowing it wasn’t made from mere humans or other kinds of demons.

He knew it wasn't a pretty sight. The pain was bearable for him but seeing you so worried made him hate being injured.

Heeseung looked to the side, avoiding your gaze. "You know I can't tell you..." He murmured, his voice low with a hint of guilt.

You frowned, hating that he had to keep it a secret “I don’t care about this hell versus heaven issue,” You snapped, feeling highly frustrated in that situation, “I know you’re hiding your aura so that God won’t sense you here, but you must tell me what hurt you so badly.”

He knew you only wanted the truth, and he didn't like lying to you. “ I can't tell you what hurt me," He whispered, his voice filled with pain that he hid behind his stubborness.

He looked at you, his eyes pleading as he reached to cup your chin in his palm. "Please, stop asking me, angel."

You sighed softly. No pain was comparable to seeing him hurt, “Okay,” You breathed out “I’ll see if I have some healing potion, it should help you.”

He nodded his head slightly, giving you a weak smile “I’d appreciate that.”

Heeseung laid in the bed, his chest feeling heavy with the pain. He didn't dare move to watch you as you frantically searched the drawers, trying to find the potion that would help him.

You opened and reopened drawers in desperate search of the healing potion, but nothing seemed to come to you.

“I’m sure I put it here somewhere,” You murmured as you threw out of your drawers white clothings and other items.

The panicked look in your eyes made his heart ache. He didn't want you to worry so much about him.

Heeseung sat up slowly, wincing as he did so. He reached out towards you, his voice strained as he spoke. "Angel, come here."

“No,” You frowned, not even turning around to look at him “I have to find it- I must.”

He let out a small sigh when you refused to come towards him. He could sense your anxiety rising as you scoured the room for the potion.

“Y/N,," He said, his voice firm but laced with desperation. "Please. come here. You don't need to find it for me right now, just come here."

“I’m sorry,” You whispered as you turned around. The blood dried a little, fortunately the flow had stopped completely.

You moved to the bed, sitting beside him as you adjusted the pillow behind his back.

“Don’t apologise,” His voice was a little too soft for a demon, “I just need you with me right now.”

You chuckled softly, “This looks like a bad joke. An angel worried about a demon.”

A light, amused smile appeared on his face. "It does sound quite ironic, doesn't it?"

He continued, “But I suppose it just shows the power of love, breaking boundaries even between heaven and hell."

You looked at him and nodded, intertwining your hands together, “It indeed is powerful.”

You looked at his gash again, it would take at least a whole day for it to fully close, and a week too for the scar to fade away.

At least, he was in your bed and not somewhere in hell-

bed. bed. under the bed you had some healing potion.

That’s where you had secured it. You jumped off the bed and quickly kneeled to rummage through the boxes.

He looked up in surprise at you when you jumped up so suddenly, his grip on your hand loosening as you rushed towards the bed.

He watched, a puzzled expression on his face, as you knelt down and started to rummage under the bed “What are you doing, angel?"

“Here it is!” You exclaimed, holding up a casket with bottles of healing cream.

He smiled faintly at your enthusiasm. "I can't believe it was right under the bed this whole time," He said, shaking his head slightly in amusement.

You helped him lay on the bed again, making sure he was comfortable. You opened the small bottle and poured some of its contents into your hand.

“This will help your healing process,” You informed as you opened his shirt better, “But it might hurt… a lot.”

Heeseung gave you a quick nod and you gently put the cream on his wound.

He hissed and gripped the sheet beneath him, trying to breath in as much air as he could as his skin burned.

“Shhh,” You soothed, putting the bottle on the ground and caressing his face “Don't fight it baby, it’ll be alright.”

“This ain’t got nothing on me,” He murmured, trying to be strong for the both of you.

The pain was just like dying another time, his skin was slowly healing, but by doing that his body would suffer.

Heeseung’s eyelids slowly grew heavy until they shut because of the pain.

You stayed with him the whole time, until his body stopped rocking in tremors and his skin stopped sweating cold.

He woke up just a couple of hours later, thanks to his high dark aura, making it easier for the healing cream to work.

His chest had been wrapped in a bandage, now being shirtless, just with his black jeans.

His eyes opened, taking in the light colours of your room. You sat beside him, continuing with your heavenly task, but also willing to stay by his side.

Heeseung groaned lowly, his body feeling heavy and sore from the intense pain he had undergone.

He looked around for you, his eyes landing on your figure sitting beside him.

“Angel.." he muttered, his voice weak and hoarse.

You widened your eyes at hearing his voice and quickly discarded the documents on the bed “Hey,” You whispered, turning toward him.

He could feel the effects of the potion, making his body stronger by the minutes “How long was I out for?” He asked.

“No more than a couple of hours,” You informed him, brushing his bangs away.

He nodded, wincing slightly as he moved to sit up in the bed.

Heeseung looked back at you, his eyes meeting yours. "Still doing your work, huh?” He asked, gesturing at the closed documents and pen beside you.

“Angel duties.” You shrugged, giving him a small smile “How are you feeling?”

“I’m doing okay,” You replied, sitting upright “The healing potion is working.”

“That’s good.” You nodded, letting out a sigh of relief.

“Thank you for healing me, angel.” He said, the look in his eyes full of love and devotion.

You smiled gently, “I’m glad you came to me.”

He took your hand in his, “Where else would I go, if not to you?” He gave your hand a gentle squeeze “You’re my safe haven, Y/N.”

Your eyes softened at his words and something warm spread all over your chest. They then fell onto his lips, they looked so plump and soft. You had the urge to kiss him, but you couldn’t.

It was impossible for angels and demons to kiss due to the curse cast upon them, a curse that would make their lips burn as soon as they met.

He sighed softly, Heeseung knew exactly what you were thinking. He was thinking the same, “What would I give just to taste your lips, even just once.” He murmured.

“Me too,” You frowned. “This is so… unfair.”

He nodded in agreement, "It truly is unfair," He said, his voice filled with suppressed anger.

"I wish I could pull you in my arms, hold you close, and whisper sweet nothings in your ear. And most of all, I wish I could kiss you, feel the softness of your lips against mine."

You shivered at his words, each one igniting a fire inside of you that could no longer be contained. You needed him and you needed him to need you back.

Still, you joked, trying to lighten the mood “You seem a little too soft for a demon.”

He chuckled softly, a hint of sheepishness in his voice. "I know, I know," He replied, a small smile on his face. “I suppose you bring out the softer side in me, angel.”

You traced your fingers on the bandage you used to cover up his gash, for finally just a small amount of blood had dirtied it “Does it still hurt?”

“No, not anymore.” He gave you a reassuring smile “It’s just a little sore now, nothing I can’t handle.”

Even if his reply was really important, you couldn’t seem to hear it as your eyes settled on his lips.

You moved unconsciously closer to him, and he noticed, licking his lips.

Heeseung held his breath as you leaned closer to him, his heart fluttering in his chest. He could feel the warmth of your skin, the gentle scent of your hair, and the soft touch of your breath against his face.

In a moment of lucidity, you shook your head and moved away. You craved his kiss, but you couldn’t hurt him just because of your selfishness.

“Would it be worth it?” You asked, your voice soft “If we kissed?”

He held your gaze for a moment, his eyes searching yours. He could see the determination in your eyes, the willingness to ignore the consequences.

“God help me," He muttered, his desire outweighing his caution.

He pulled you closer, his hands on your waist, and gently guided you onto his lap.

“Not the best thing to say in heaven.” You chuckled as you settled on his lap, holding yourself up on his shoulders.

“I don’t want to hurt you.” You murmured, making sure not to add too much pressure on his aching body.

"Well, I'm not exactly welcome in heaven, aren’t I?" Heeseung shook his head slightly, his hands gentle on your waist. "Don't worry about me, angel," he whispered. "I can handle a little pain if it means I can hold you like this."

He moved your hair out of your eyes as you sighed at the contact “You’re so beautiful.” He stated. “You too,” You replied.

“You truly are an angel.” He caressed your cheek, tracing your featured “And you’re mine.”

You smiled back at him, and for a moment he didn’t even look like a demon. He looked like a human boy, holding his lover in his arms and not caring about anything in the world but for you.

And well, the worst part was that you loved him to the extreme as well.

You knew Heeseung was capable of breaking heaven and rule hell if he wanted, but he would never even consider it if it had the chance to hurt you.

He would set the world on fire to keep you warm, crave out his own wings to give them to you.

And you were no better, you thought you’d turn your back on heaven the second someone threatened to hurt him.

“What happens…” You murmured “If heaven or hell take me away from you?” You needed to hear his answer, to hear just how much he cared about you.

The thought of losing you, of heaven or hell separating you, was something he couldn't bear.

He looked into your eyes, his voice low and filled with determination. "I'll burn down heaven and hell themselves before I let them take you away from me," He said fiercely.

Heeseung pulled you closer, his arms wrapping around you protectively. "Nothing, not heaven or hell, can keep me from you."

At his words, you moved your face closer to his, feeling the ghost of his lips on yours, the electricity between the two of you.

His eyes flicked down to your lips, his own parting slightly in anticipation. He ached to close the distance, to feel the softness of your mouth against his.

His voice a strained whisper. "Y/N."

“Heeseung,” You whispered back “Please— kiss me, even if it hurts.”

The thought of the pain they would endure paled in comparison to the aching emptiness of not kissing you.

He took a deep breath, his voice a hoarse murmur “Damn it, angel. you'll be the death of me."

“Too bad you’re already dead.” Since he wasn’t closing the distance, you did.

You crashed your lips together in a desperate kiss. But as you braced yourself for the stinging sensation, it didn't come.

You pulled away, a surprised frown forming on your face “W-what?”

Heeseung’s expression mirrored yours, stunned, coating his sharp features.

“Maybe the curse was a lie.” You exclaimed “Maybe—“

“I don’t care.” Heeseung breathed out as he pressed his lips against yours once again.

The only thing he wanted was to focus on the sweet taste of your lips against his, the sound of your moans being swallowed in the kiss.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and sighed softly, drowning in the feeling of him.

His usual cold skin was now burning hot, even so the mere contact made you shiver.

“I love you,” He whispered on your lips, “Even if my heart can’t beat, I can feel it within me.”

You could feel his growing desire under you, making your body ache for him, “I can feel it too.” You whispered, taking one of his hands and guiding it to the middle of your chest “The pull.”

“Fuck,” He groaned and kissed you hard again.

“No curse words in heaven.” You murmured on his lips, making him smile.

The kiss was hot and anything but pure lust. “You drive me insane.” Heeseung murmured “Damn it, Y/N. The things I want to do to you.” You knew you shouldn’t feel that way, towards a demon. It was against every rule set in heaven.

But who cared? With every swipe of his tongue against yours, you couldn’t even remember what was your porpoise in there.

Unconsciously, you ground your hips on his, making him groan in your mouth.

One of his hands cradled your head, massaging your scalp and pulling your hair gently.

You hummed, loving the way he was so gentle with you.

You placed one of your hands on his chest, but gasped as you felt the bandage. He was still hurt, you couldn’t do it.

But Heeseung just smiled and held your body against his as he turned you around, so you were the one laying on the bed.

He unbuttoned his jeans and kicked them off, as well as his underwear.

You looked down at him and lord, if you didn’t need him. He wasn’t huge, but he was long and thick and eveything you ever wished for.

“I need in you so bad angel,” He murmured, prepping kisses down your neck “Can I have you, hm?”

Mindlessly, you nodded. You thought that if he even asked you to give everything up and run away, you’d agree right away.

His hands roamed your body, groping your breast, then down your stomach as he sucked on your skin, leaving reddish marks.

Not even caring about the consequences, your hands tangled in his locks, encouraging him to continue.

In just a matter of seconds, your clothes were forgotten on the floor as he took in the sight of you. So ethereal and so his.

Heeseung licked his bottom lip and leaned in to kiss you once more, “It might hurt.” He informed.

You nodded, wrapping your arms around his neck and bringing his chest flush to yours “I want the pain. I told you you’re worth it.”

His hips unconsciously bucked at your words, making his forehead press against your shoulder.

Heeseung took his length in his grasp and aligned with your entrance, “If you need me to stop or slow down, tell me.”

You nodded, breathing out a quick reply before he pushed himself in.

You had expected it to hurt, to burn the same way your kiss should’ve. But all you could feel was him and the sweet sensation it sent through your body.

Heeseung groaned, your walls hugging him so tightly. Gritting his teeth, he forced himself to go at a slow pace.

“You’re so perfect.” He murmured, kissing your collarbone “You’re just so perfect, I don’t know how you ended up with someone like me.”

You shook your head, wanting to tell him he was wrong but his pace quickened and each thrust sent ripples of pleasure through your body.

“I love you too.” You replied to his previous confession “S’much.”

His hips stilled at your words, his breath hitching. And then, his pace resumed, quickened as he held himself up.

He rested one of your legs on his shoulder and lightly kissed your ankle.

“So good, angel.” Heeseung grunted, the sound of skin slapping filling the heavenly room.

“Ugh!” You exclaimed as he hit a certain spot that made your toe curl “There, Hee, there.”

“Got it.” He chuckled and deepened his thrust, repeatedly hitting that spot, “Found your sweet spot, mh?” He asked, his voice low and husky.

Heeseung looked so perfect, his muscled body on full display, the bandage wrapped around his torso and his bangs sticking to his forehead.

He bit his bottom lip as he tried not to release before you, one of his hands moving down to circle your clit, wanting to bring the both of you to the edge at the same time.

Your body shook in tremors as he did, the pleasure almost too much.

Your back arched as you breathed out his name, needing him to stop and continue at the same time.

“Just a little more, baby.” He snapped his hips faster, letting your ankle go and hovering over you.

Both of your breaths mended, just panting onto each others’ lips as you felt your orgasm approaching.

You cradled his face in your hands and kissed him hard, teeth clashing.

You squeezed your eyes shut as you reached the edge, your body shaking. Heeseung throbbed at each clench of your pussy around him, emptying his seed inside of you.

His hips slowed, but he didn’t pull out. He intended staying like that for as long as he could.

He laid beside you not to crash you, but not even having the energy anymore to hover your figure.

He wrapped his arms around your body and held you close to your chest, “I don’t ever want to let go.”

“Don’t.” You stated, holding onto him for dear life “Don’t ever let me go.”

“As long as you’ll let me.” He whispered and kissed you again, deeply and slowly. For all the times he had wanted to kiss you but couldn’t because of the nonexistent curse.

Oh, but if only you knew the curse existed, but didn’t work for those who were soulmates in their past lives.

[obsessivevoidkitten]

Cop More than a Feel

Kinktober Day 10: Spitroasting Two DILF Cop Alpha Yanderes x Gender Neutral Omega Reader CW: Noncon, omega discrimination, bigotry, a/b/o dynamics, musk, pheromones, abuse of authority, spitroasting, oral sex, threesome, knotting, general yandere behavior, reader fucked big stupid Word Count: 2k (Hope you guys enjoy this!)

You were in your car, a quiet moment of dread before going into work. It had become something of a daily tradition. You knew it would be another day of being belittled and harassed but if you gave up now it would be like admitting to all the people who told you you couldn’t amount to anything that they were right. You were an omega who had put themselves through the rigorous training to be a police officer, and you had managed to land a job in a short staffed department.

But no matter what you did or how many times you had proved yourself, you were still treated as a glorified secretary. The most dangerous thing you had ever been allowed to do was to go and get doughnuts and coffee by yourself.

It was humiliating. But it was not the worst thing that you had to put up with.

The worst of it were the snide remarks you could hear them make. Not even out of earshot, they didn't care if you heard. Awful comments about how you should be happy to even be a secretary around this kind of work. Comments about whose knot you should wind up bouncing on. Comments about what they thought your pheromones were like without your suppressants making them nearly undetectable. Comments about what your slick tasted like.

Those remarks made you angry, frustrated, and depressed. You wanted to scream and cry, but neither of those were options, lest you validate the emotional omega stereotype. It was pure gaslighting. But as ugly and bigoted as those remarks had been, they still weren't the end of things. It wasn't uncommon for a wandering hand to slide up your thigh when you had to sit by one of the alpha officers or grab your ass when you bent over.

The only time they didn't make any crude comments or get touchy with you were the times when the chief of police or the captain were around. You thought this was a hopeful sign that some of your superiors were open to the idea of an omega on the force and that they had told your other coworkers to treat you as an equal. At the very least, their commanding presence brought you some relief. They were ex-military, after all. This was not a just world, though, and you could not have been more wrong.

When you eventually mustered up the mental fortitude and could avoid it no longer, you went into the building.

For the most part, it was a standard and uneventful day, or at least what could be considered uneventful relative to what you normally suffered through. There were still comments and lecherous hands. Just not to the extent that there could have been. Though your day was fated to get much worse as right after lunch you were called into the chief's office.

Were you finally going to be given a chance to do some real police work?

No.

You entered to find both Chief Markey and Captain Nelson were present, and for some reason, the desk had been cleared. They did not look happy at all. It was a surprise performance review. This was not the first review that you had failed, but it was the one they were most negative with.

They said that while you clearly wanted to succeed and put in effort that it simply wasn't good enough. You were constantly jumpy and distracted, on edge constantly. Not to mention emotional. No major outbursts per se, but you were constantly glaring at your fellow coworkers. You tried to point out that your behavior reflected a hostile work environment.

Chief Markey raised his voice as he replied while Captain Nelson smirked.

"That proves you aren't meant for this job, you cannot even take responsibility for your own mistakes! Furthermore..."

He then went into great detail about how you made the men uncomfortable and then laid out accusations of you purposefully putting pheromones out to seduce or entice your fellow officers. Combined with your glaring, it was basically sexual harassment.

"This is insane! They get to grope and comment about me, but if I complain, it is my responsibility? But they get to just make up random bullshit about me, and I get admonished without proof!?"

"Calm down!"

"Yeah, you're being hysterical! Proving everyone completely right. It is obvious an omega can't be an officer."

Chief Markey scratched his well-groomed beard before smirking.

"But we have thought up a position for you..."

The position they had thought of was any that involved taking their knots.

Apparently, they were completely obsessed with you. A strong omega that would produce healthy babies, so resilient. But your place was riding one of their cocks, not in a dangerous job. It's why the other officers stopped harassing you when they were around. Markey and Nelson had marked you as theirs. They didn't like the others touching you, but thought it was a useful way to get you to break down, so they had an excuse to give you bad evaluations. Of course, they knew such a prideful omega would never just go along with being "reassigned," so they made sure you couldn't refuse.

They said that they'd plant evidence on you, get you fired from any new job, and track you down to the ends of the earth. No matter what, they'd ruin your life if you didn't submit.

"But don't worry, we'll let you wear the uniform and even keep the word "officer" in your title."

Nelson stroked your cheek and wiped away your tears with a rugged calloused hand.

"Yeah, you'll be our personal morale officer and take our knots every day when not working as our personal secretary."

Markey closed the blinds that hung in front of the large windows that overlooked the rest of the department and then locked the door.

"And look on the bright side. None of the other officers will give you any trouble after this."

You wanted to scream, to fight back, to run. Do anything, but take it. But that was all you could do. Well, that and cry. They had finally won. Captain Nelson wiped away your tears and pressed his lips to yours as you held back ugly sobs.

"Typical omega, so emotional. You'll feel better after you've had some good breeding."

Chief Markey made his way behind you and attended to the task of removing your uniform.

"No... no ple-"

You had started to protest somewhat loudly but were cut off by more unwanted kisses before Nelson spoke smugly.

"Now. Now. Don't want to protest too loudly and have all your coworkers hear, do you?"

You were shivering in fear.

"Don't be scared, it will all be over soon."

Markey rubbed a teasing finger around your hole.

"Oh, you're much too dry."

"We can fix that, though."

They each nibbled and gnawed a side of your neck, The Chief from behind and The Captain from the front. Your trembling in fear became involuntary quivers of pleasure.

They could tell the difference. Smell it easily. And then feel it as slick leaked from your hole and onto Markey's fingers. He left your neck to lick his thumb.

"Tastes ripe," he chuckled.

You were in such shock by the circumstances and physical stimulation that you didn't even notice when they had pulled down their pants and underwear, large throbbing cocks on full display and eager to be buried inside of you. One of them pulled out a thick blanket from beneath the desk and spread it out on top of it. They picked you up and laid you down carefully on the desk.

Ah... so that's why the desk had been cleared.

Chief Markey groped your ass while Captain Nelson held his cock in his hand and lightly smacked your face with it, smearing your face with its scent as you tightly closed your eyes. You gasped as Markey dipped his dick into you, your open mouth taken as an invitation for Nelson to slip his prick in. It tasted salty, probably from sweat and the near comical amount of precum he was producing. There was no choice but to swallow it  as he flooded your mouth.

Markey smacked your ass hard, causing you to jolt in surprise.

"Careful! I don't want them to bite my cock!"

"Sorry..."

They started out moving in tandem, Markey's thrusts pushing you onto Nelson's cock and Nelson pushing you onto Markey. But that didn't last as they began to lose themselves and go a bit feral. It only spurred them onward when you started twitching and convulsing in the pleasure that had been forced upon you, betrayed by your own body.

Deep anxiety and dread bubbled within you, but even as it did, another instinctual part of you was demanding that you submit and let your alpha mates breed you deeply. As the small room began to fill with the pheromones of two alphas and their cocks continued to plow into you, you felt your body slowly relax and become pliant to their touch.

You flinched in slight discomfort as Markey's knot swelled inside you and throbbed as he filled you with his cum. Nelson followed suit, filling your throat with his seed, but careful not to knot your mouth and risk choking you. Though that didn't stop you from gagging a bit as his nuts emptied into you.

"Oh, you haven't gotten your release yet... can't have that. What kind of mates would we be if we didn't make you feel good?"

Markey rolled his hips, moving his knot inside you until you convulsed and moaned out softly. Once his knot deflated and unbound the two of you he and Nelson swapped positions until you were brought to climax and knotted by Nelson while Markey made you suck his cock, slick with your mingled juices.

They played with you in a few other positions for over an hour until you were just a limp little sex doll. They took you on the floor, against the wall, on the desk some more, on the chairs. Your hair, face, thighs, crotch, and butt were covered in musky alpha seed. It oozed out of your hole. You were left slouched in the chair and too fucked out of your mind to do anything but mumble and drool. You were the very picture of someone who was utterly debauched.

"So quiet and well behaved. Will definitely pass a new performance review."

"Just proves that omegas need knots and not a high stress job."

To complete your new look were twin claiming bites on each side of your sensitive neck. They wiped you clean as best they could but you still absolutely reeked of cum and musk, though they didn't want their scent removed from you anyway. Nelson clothed you and covered you up with his jacket, feeling that if you were in your right mind, you wouldn't want to be seen in this state. And while he was proud of fucking you into such a stupor, the sight was for his and Markey's eyes only.

To be honest, he hadn't really wanted to share you, even with Markey. But the two of them had been old military buddies, so they decided not to let an omega come between them.

Except for when they literally had you between them.

They had come to the agreement that they would switch who you lived with weekly and share you on weekends. And of course they'd have you at work as their assistant/secretary... and as their cumdump on slow days... Captain Nelson was given the rest of the day off to get you situated and inform you of your happy new homes. You were in no state to take in new information, poor dear, but you'd be better in an hour or so.