#expel an ENEMY

[agentfascinateur]

National interest was the very reason states waged war in the past before it became illegal. It's not a reason today to break the law. It's just tossing the word salad.

#expel Israel from the UN

#hostis humani generis

[raitonsfw]

jjk men: sub edition

characters: gojo satoru, geto suguru, okkotsu yūta, kamo chōsō, & sukuna ryōmen.

warnings: 18+ mdni, smut, fem!reader, gn!reader (gojo), sub!characters, vibrating sex toys (gojo's and geto's), face riding (yuta's), pegging (choso's), refusal to submit (sukuna's), whining, whimpering, pleading, begging, dirty talk, bondage (gojo's), p in v intercourse (geto [riding] & sukuna [mating press]), anal sex (choso's obvi), slight rim play (gojo's), degrading & praising, pet names, gojo selfishly whines, geto can't keep his composure, okkotsu loves you, choso's completely fucked out, sukuna shares a body with itadori (& doesn't care about your kinks), fyi the reader isn't very dominant (more neutral, maybe i'll write another one of these with a dom!reader later on)

a/n: this came about 'cause of some hate from an anon about me writing satoru gojo whimpering & that men shouldn't whimper or moan? next time, be a dear and send it off anon? i'll answer you more thoroughly that way. i love having the option that is 'write to spite'. wc: 3.2k total. m.list

divider credit: @hitobaby

❝𝐬𝐮𝐛!𝐠𝐨𝐣𝐨 𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮…❞ who isn’t really all that submissive– at least not on the surface. in public his exterior shone a haughty personality but in the midst of silk sheets, he whined like a little bitch. 

soft whines of ‘please, baby…’ and ‘r-right there– yes…’ as you moved the vibrator towards the tip of his cock. he was sitting up against the headboard, his knees slightly bent and his bright eyes were glued on your hand that held the small pink wand. 

you knew gojo quite well, the man could withstand almost anything sorcery related; curses expelling out left and right, best friends turned enemies– but he couldn’t handle the juddering feeling of a sex toy. he’d practically short-circuit. his entire body would freeze up as you ran it along the side of his thigh, a dulled lust sinking within his eyes and suddenly his cock would be rock hard.

you’d watch as his legs would spread open for you, a quiet obedience held within the air and you’d hum in content as he let you shed his trousers and boxers. and holy shit, it was so intoxicating to take in how fucking hard he got just from the slight indication of the vibrator buzzing up his thigh. 

he wouldn’t be quiet for long though, no– that was just for show. as soon as your hand grabbed at his flushed cock, a choked gasp would follow and a bunch of pleas would spill out of his mouth like a waterfall. 

“need the toy– give me the toy…”

“y/n, baby…sweetheart– c’mon...” 

“please, don’t want your hand right now–”

“‘m sorry, i’m so sorry– fuck-!”

and despite his empty words (and the rushed apology when he vaguely realized his mistake), the vibrator would be set to the near highest setting. ‘cause there was something so hot watching him squirm from such a delicate thing, bulleting at an overstimulating press firsthand.

god, you could get drunk off of his whimpers and cries as they spilled from his mouth every time you ran the vibrator over a vein on the underside of his cock… his jolts of pleasure when you upped the setting by a hair as he was so sensitive and even the slightest change would send him spiraling… the constant clenching and unclenching of his fists within the confines of his blindfold– courtesy of you tying it that way. 

you had the right mind not to edge him, his voice pitching higher and higher each second you ran the droning sensation over his slit, precum slathering the toy. his chest rose and fell quickly as you switched the settings to a different rhythm, his back arching out towards you and his cock bobbing against his tummy with a loud whine escaping him. 

his head had knocked back into the headboard with his eyelids fluttering closed, a fucked out expression washing over his face as his thighs trembled– as his whole body trembled in front of you. you knew he was close; the tiny whimpers felling long with each stroke of the toy and the way his muscles tightened in his stomach with each roll of his hips as he desperately feigned for more friction. 

which led you to take a quick gamble– and press the toy right against his rim. 

you didn’t even have time to replace your hand on his cock as he painted his shirt white. long spurts decorated it, nearly up to his chin and you hummed softly to yourself as you pumped him through his release, your name heavy on his lips as he rode it out. you cooed out praises as he bucked into your hand, dribbling the rest of his cum all over it with small pants filling the room. 

and as soon as he came down, his hands were slipping from his blindfold and pinning you underneath him– it was your turn now. 

❝𝐬𝐮𝐛!𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮…❞ who’s slightly submissive– but knows how to keep his composure. it wasn’t often you got to see him needy, the man wasn’t exactly enthralled in giving you a show; so instead of begging for what he needed, he did everything in his power to please you.

the most he’d give you were tiny hums from the constant drag of his cock as you rode him, his eyes rolling in the back of his head. when he had the pleasure of cumming inside you – when he could because you’d fall apart against him in mere minutes – you’d hear the most sinful whimpers bare from his throat, his hands gripping your hips as he gasped for breath.

you couldn’t escape the cuddling afterwards either, the quiet contented sighs that captured you whole as he worked his body around yours in a tight embrace when the stars fell away from your eyelids. his mind would be reeling with the aftermath, still painfully hard in his boxers since he didn’t finish; but you came on his cock and that’s all that mattered to him.

but there were just some days where he needed you more than ever – and the aching pleasure of his cock spasming inside you – a pliant buzz reigning him in as he heard you come home. his arms would wrap around your waist as you’d toss your keys onto the kitchen counter and you’d feel his breath fan against your ear as he spoke, a slight whine etched in his voice.

“y/n, come to the bedroom with me…”

“ah–! shit… please?”

“need you tonight… can’t wait any longer–” 

“gotta be inside you– right now.”

and you thought it was the usual routine, you laid out underneath him with his cock driving into you like no tomorrow. but as you were pulled into the bedroom, the box of sex toys you shared with him had been dumped over the bed and you realized his neediness and the sound that droned lightly from him– the vibrating cock ring was missing.

you weren’t exactly sure if geto ever acted submissive in his life, never really wanting to push him too far as he already did so much for you; he never seemed bothered by the lack of reciprocation. but when he came home with the cock ring and your life sure flipped a sudden switch, your collected man reduced to nothing but a puddle as you drove him to the edge over and over again. 

as you fully sank onto his cock, his ring would vibrate against your folds and you’d sigh out in relief when you noticed his face screwed up in pleasure– and pain as he was already so close to his godforsaken orgasm. needy– fucking desperate whines would leak from his mouth as you bounced lightly on him, some hiccuped noises escaping him and– oh? he might cry. 

his hair was splayed out on the pillows, some of it stuck to his sweaty shoulders as the corners of his eyes brimmed with tears, his hands clutching onto you for dear life. he wouldn’t say anything, too drunk off of the overstimulation of your pussy and the vibrations pushing him over the edge; except he couldn’t cum yet. not until you took off the cock ring and honestly, did you really want to? 

this was one of the only times you saw this side of him after all. 

you eventually let him cum, pulling off his cock to ease the ring off while instructing him softly not to cum until he was inside you. and he’d be damned if he didn’t shoot off inside you, holding himself back for all of ten seconds before the feeling of your walls warm around him pushed him over– you felt him twitch inside you and a lengthy moan accompanied as he tried his best to pull you close into him through it. 

he stole kisses from you afterwards, his demeanor returning to the same old facade he encased himself in and you wondered if you buy him vibrating beads– what would that do to him?

❝𝐬𝐮𝐛!𝐨𝐤𝐤𝐨𝐭𝐬𝐮 𝐲𝐮𝐭𝐚…❞ who is just the right amount of submissive. he would quiver at the faintest feel of your fingers ghosting his cock as he knelt before you. his eyes would be nearly blown wide, taking in your composure as his falls away when you bend down eye level to him. 

he’d know better than to buck into your hand like a poor puppy, desperate for any friction you could give him as his fingers reach out to grip at your clothing. and he wouldn't even realize he broke a rule as he repeated in his brain ‘don’t thrust’ into the warmth of your palm. 

as you backed away, you’d notice the tears that pricked the corners of his eyes, the pout that would cross his face when he tried to retrace his movements– and then his mouth would be going a mile a minute with apologies.

“baby… i’m sorry! i’ll be good, i promise– i won’t touch you again.”

“please… forgive me? use me to get off…”

and that wasn’t a bad idea in your eyes as you thought it over, squatting back up to let him breathe. god, he was so pliant with you, complete putty– pulled and stretched out for you. his cock curved up towards his tummy as it stood proudly from the confines of his jujutsu uniform; he was so excited he didn’t even care to unzip his zipper, he just pulled himself out ‘cause you told him to. 

as you finally allowed him up onto the space of the bed after his relentless regret, a muffled ‘thank you’ spilled from his lips before you could even position yourself onto his face and you clutched the headboard to steady yourself; because he wasn’t allowed to touch– and he sure knew that as he was chanting it in his mind.

he needed you to use him, to just sit right on his tongue and ride him mercilessly; it’s what he deserves for breaking one of your rules. but you were nice, you weren’t mean with your punishments and honestly this seemed more like a reward for him. he was manipulative, that one– you had to be careful as he could get you to do anything for him with just a glassy eyed look and a pout. 

his hands grasped at the sheets for leverage as you sat down against him, his tongue not hesitating in the slightest to swipe over the swell of your clit and you huffed out a relieved moan. you didn’t falter, your hips rolling against his mouth with the shock of warm pleasure flowing through your body. and he reciprocated your moans, humming gently into you as he lapped at your arousal trickling against the tip of his tongue.

and all he wanted to do was touch you – bury his fingers inside you and fuck the life out of you – anything for his girl. but he knew the moment he moved his fingers from the threaded sheets, you’d pull off with a whine falling from his lips. god, did he want to please you– and he wanted it in return; his cock was aching even as it laid against his tummy. he couldn’t take it anymore, between the sweet taste of your slick running down his chin and the insane amount of precum building at the tip of his cock– he begged. 

“fuck, please touch me… won’t cum til you say so, i swear–”

“just need your hands on me, y/n honey… l-love you so much– god, thank you.”

when you leaned back to pull him off, your other hand feathered into his hair and you caught a glimpse of his dark rimmed eyes staring back up with such profound desire– you just knew he wouldn’t last more than a few seconds.

❝𝐬𝐮𝐛!𝐤𝐚𝐦𝐨 𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐨…❞ who takes the cake for being the most submissive slut known to man. when you sunk into him the first time with the strap nudging into him subtly, he couldn’t help but let out a choked whimper. he would be so fucking full– his rim clenching harshly around you and you’d coo at him; some praises that did you no good as he could barely hear you through the pounding rush of blood in his ears.

you couldn’t even begin to fathom the drunk passion you felt for this boy, arching his back for you as you started to ease yourself in all the way– it was fucking insane and you weren’t even the one with your nerves on fire. he’d grip at the sheets with a wanton moan, pushing back onto the strap with eager hips and it took everything in you not to collapse onto him with the heated arousal you felt in your cunt. 

you’d be on your toes, basically straddling the poor boy’s hips, your hands flush against his waist to keep you steady and all you’d hear was ‘more, please… i can take it–! need you to move.’ christ, you haven’t even gotten your bearings yet and he’s begging for you to pound him into the fucking mattress. 

his spiked hair wouldn’t be in their usual ponytails, it sleeked down the back of his neck and soon, it was going to be balled up in your palms while you fucked the living shit out of him.

once you actually rolled your hips into his tight hole, a broken moan flew out of his mouth and his head drooped down onto the side of the bed. his entire body shook in pleasure as you thrusted into him shallowly, hushed pants coming from him as his cock dripped onto the sheets beneath you. 

you noticed his cock rather quickly– and how neglected it looked, hanging between his legs with a reddened flush and you snaked your hand underneath him to tug at it a bit, earning a repressed whimper that was muffled in the sheets he buried his face into. before you knew it, your hips found a rhythm you were content with and one he was ecstatic with, his body jolting upwards with every stroke of his cock and bruising of your strap. 

you knew you nailed his prostate when his head snapped up, his entire body shuddering around you. his moan was so sharp in your ears, it delved straight towards spine and you threaded your fingers into his hair with the words ‘good boy, that’s it… that’s the spot?’ leaking from your mouth in a soft tone. to which he nodded, a heavy need carving out his common sense and replacing it with nothing whines and whimpers. 

‘soo good, thankyouthankyouthankyou–’

‘right there, keep going…’ 

and you did, even when you noticed his tongue loll out of his mouth– the fucked out expression blatant on his face as you pulled his head back to look at you. his violet eyes were watery, his mouth completely open in near silent moans as you pounded into him now, and you swore you saw a blood tear drip from his mark as he squeezed his eyes shut through a particular thrust. and now he begged for you, pleaded like no tomorrow as you fucked him senseless; his entire mind clouded with nothing but ecstasy.

‘am i being a good boy? please– tell me i’m being a good boy for you…’

‘fuck me harder, yeah– yes… shit–! so close…’

as he came around the strap, you watched in awe– ropes of cum spurting against the sheets and harsh gasps filled the air as you kissed down his back with your hands massaging his waist through the heavy orgasm. you ran a quick finger down his spine, reveling in the way he trembled against you as you pulled out of him. 

you wouldn’t even talk to him properly afterwards, just tiny adorations; because you knew as soon as he came to, he’d be out like a light.

❝𝐬𝐮𝐛!𝐬𝐮𝐤𝐮𝐧𝐚 𝐫𝐲𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧…❞ who isn’t submissive at all. the king of curses didn’t have a submissive bone in his body– completely overtaken by the dominant hull. you’ve tried to make him submit – more than once – but it never worked out in your favor.

your hands would delve towards his shoulders to pin him down as you rode him– well, tried to ride him as his cock pounded up into you harshly– but you’d be thrown off in an instant, a mating press following suit so you couldn’t move underneath him.

you’d whine for him to take you more than once in a single night, in pursuit of overstimulating him– but you failed to realize just how much stamina he had and you ultimately ended up being the one overstimulated with your cunt stuffed full of his cum each and every time.

there were some days where he played along with your endeavors to be nice. sometimes a quiet whine would fill his throat before replacing it with hefty growls and grunts while you sucked his cock. and other times he’d let you have the upper hand for more than a half a second, reveling in the way your body moved against him to try to overtake him. 

your tits would bounce right in his face and it made him think twice– he almost begged for them, wanting nothing more than to take them into his mouth and litter them red with teeth marks. but that thought left his mind rather quickly as your cunt pressed warmly against his cock, stirring it awake from its confines and it was game over. 

there was no way he’d beg for a lowly human.

why would he need to when you gave yourself up to him so easily? you’d practically jump him as soon as he switched with itadori, strong arms holding onto you as you pushed him onto the bed. but of course, he could flip you over in an instant and he would, his cock dragging deliciously along your walls within the next two minutes. 

as much as it was fun to watch you squirm and cry about him not letting up his dominance, it also turned him on immensely. his cock would ache inside you as you begged for him to make a needy noise… his eyes would threaten to roll back as you clenched around him in hopes he would show some type of submission… and he’d have to recollect himself when you breathed hot in his ear that he was such a good boy for fucking you so well. why the fuck did that affect him? 

but once he grounded himself, you were in trouble– his cock pounding into you with heinous phrases leaking from his mouth. he couldn’t bear to listen to you anymore, the idea drove him insane– a fucking human shouldn’t be calling him wretched pet names like that. so to shut you up, his palm would end up on your mouth and his tongue there would shove straight into it. he just needed to fuck the kink out you, that’s all. 

and of course being the curse that he is, once you couldn’t speak, he’d tease (berate) you about your subby needs.

“ah, so you get off on pussy men now?”

“don’t look away from me, doll, answer the question.”

“what– you want me to whine and beg for you like a goddamn pup? i don’t think so.”

“now hold your legs open ‘n take my cock… like a normal fucking human.”

yeah, you tried and all it got you was a sore cunt each time, unable to walk without a bit of a wobble– his devilish smirk and targeted eyes followed you every step of the way before he relinquished his form to itadori in the morning. 

taglist: @izakyun | @classyempathmongercloud | @satorawrrr | @winterskeleton

a/n: wanna get tagged in future writing posts? join my taglist!

[heritageposts]

Israeli settlers in the occupied West Bank have distributed threatening leaflets on cars and left bloodied dolls at schools, warning Palestinians to leave or be killed. "By God, we will descend upon your heads with a great catastrophe soon. You have the last chance to escape to Jordan in an organised manner," said one leaflet circulated on Friday in the West Bank city of Salfit. "After that, we will destroy every enemy and forcefully expel you from our holy land … Load your bags immediately and leave wherever you came from. We are coming." The leaflet also warned of a new "major Nakba", referencing the 1948 displacement of 750,000 Palestinians from their homeland. In the occupied Al-Ma'rajat area near Jericho, dolls covered in red paint, ostensibly to look like blood and scare young students, were left at the entrance of a school after settlers vandalised it.

Middle East Eye, 27th of October.

[tamamita]

how is isis different from hamas?

Gonna make it easy and comprehensible:

ISIS or DA'ISH is a transnational terror organization consisting of Iraqi Baathists, former Syrian rebels or moderates, recruited fighters from all over the world, former US captives in Iraq, and oppressed and disenfranchised Sunnis. Wahhabi in nature, ISIS subscribes to the literalist tradition of Islam, based on a strict adherence to Tawhid (Islamic monotheism), rejecting the concept of intercession and saint venerations, seeing them as an act of idolatry. Their religious verdicts are based on the literal interpretation of the Qur'an and Sunnah, rejecting metaphorical exegesis. They aim to establish a global caliphate, seeking to eliminate anyone who opposses it regardless of religious or ideological differences. They see their cause as a hastening of various Islamic end time prophecies in their interpretation of Islamic eschatology. Like many Salafis, they reject Taqlid, which is to conform to one of the four schools of thought in Sunni Islam. On top of that, they reject religious innovations (Bid'ah), which is the idea that anything introduced to the religion without any religious basis is heresy. Whether it be practical or theological, they deem any Muslim who engage in Bid'ah to be an apostate or heretic. They are notorious for their intolerance of non-Muslims and application of Takfirism (excommunication) on Muslims, whether Sunni or Shi'a. Christians had to pay the Jizya (poll tax) in their territories, while in other cases, they were murdered, expelled and had their churches destroyed or converted. They have no tolerance for Shi'a Muslims and will kill them on the spot (see: Speicher Massacre), and have often targeted them with IEDs or suicide bombers. Non-Muslims, like the Ezidis or Ahlul Haqq, were often subjected to execution whereas their women and children were either married away, converted or used as sex slaves. DAESH is not interested in national liberation, seeing it as a blasphemous innovation. DAESH does not consider Hamas to be Muslims due to struggle for national liberation which is supported by Iran and various Shi'i proxies.

Hamas is a political and military resistance group that consists of Palestinians. After the failures of the Oslo accord, Hamas broke away from PLO and formed their own political party. They either subscribe to the Shafi'i school of thought or some form of Ikhwani Salafism (Salafism as envisioned by the Muslim Brotherhood). They're a semi-governmental power in Gaza and are responsible for upholding the social and civil institutions, such as hospitals, schools and etc. Hamas' specific aim is localized and seeks to destroy the Zionist entity in order to form a one-state solution under an Islamic emirate or Islamic democracy. Their only enemy is Israel and any of its allies. As of the Hamas charter of 2017, they do not have an intolerance for non-Muslims or people of different religious and ideological comportments, as seen by them holding ties with both Shi'a and Socialist militias, such as Hezbollah and the PFLP/DFLP. Hamas is concerned with the national liberation of Palestine and the Palestinians. Being an entirely localized resistance group, they do not engage in global jihadism like ISIS nor do they carry out attacks internationally.

[yellydany]

WHITE VEILED BEARFROG 🐻‍❄️ 🐠 (Ambystoma Axoqui) Also known as Iztacueyatl Tecuani (white frog beast)

"A majestic white scaled and bear-like creature from the seas. Its now dangerous habitat forced it to seek water ponds and swamps. But make no mistake, this beast in spite of its elegant appearance can tear its prey and foes to shreds- especially during nesting seasons. Its movement can be deceivingly slow but once in a rush of adrenaline they lunge and attack at a swift speed. To further improve its survivability it will often release slimy bubbles (likely mucus) from its body which slow down its enemies through contact or by walking on surfaces in which they bursted, but amongst other abilities they can absorb and release high-pressured water through their mouths (and gills) to blast intruders with. Some of them have even learned to propel themselves like a jet by expelling water, becoming a deadly giant projectile.

They prefer to live surrounded by corals and colorful rocks to blend in and only display aggression when threatened, as they prefer stealth. A bearfrog will create a semi-aquatic nest so that the females then carry a clutch of orange eggs under their bodies until they hatch. The newborn larvae will spend their youth underwater until they develop to venture into land.

This species has become rather scarce because of the water conditions in the land .."

[rbdbrainworms]

this dyr fight is probably the most random fight ever, diego is about to distend a muscle for reaching so hard for something to argue with roberta about

[luminae-writing]

"What's better, magic fatigue or magic euphoria?" HOW ABOUT BOTH-

When magic feels SO GOOD to use that it encourages the user to wear themselves out so much faster just to feel good again.

Nosebleeds, headaches, bone-deep exhaustion, blistering fevers and delirium all feel like such minor prices to pay for the high that came over them when they used just the right spark of magic.

(Of course these symptoms are not actually minor at all. Magic depletes and/or changes the body in such volatile ways, and to such extents that nothing else can ever reach.

And perhaps the rush of euphoria helps to deaden the victims' sense so they don't realize the change...)

Concerned friends, teammates, etc. try to get the character to stop using magic, don't you see what it's doing to you - and character fights them so hard. You don't understand. It feels good, I have to feel it again!

An enemy/antagonist knows this and manipulates character into using/expelling a great amount of magic, takes advantage of their spacey, dazed high in order to capture them. Hardly has to do much to keep them imprisoned when the exhaustion sets in and they're so weak that they can't even stand.

Magic-users have literally burnt themselves out or become completely senseless in pursuit of the euphoria that comes with magic, which makes for another reason it's so dangerous.

Idk where I'm going with this I just had thoughts.

[gingerswagfreckles]

Multiple posts with over 25k notes stanning the Houthis. The fucking Houthis. Who brought back chattle slavery to Yemen, who are directly responsible for the Yemeni famine that has caused hundreds of thousands of deaths, who redirect international food aid into their military faction, who have "a curse upon the Jews" on their flag, who rounded up and expelled the last few dozen Jews remaining in Yemen in 2021, who openly sex traffic Ethiopian women, who don't allow women to travel without a male guardian even for essential medical care, who torture and execute their political enemies, who have started to oppertunistically attack random ships that are neither coming nor going from Israel to fund their oppressive regime. Those Houthis. Those Houthis. Multiple posts with over 25k notes about how they are "coming through" for Palestine.

Are you people fucking insane? I wish I had a nicer way to say this but this website is literally filled with some of the stupidest and most hateful people I have ever had the misfortune to encounter. How many times do you people need to learn that some idiot on Twitter is not where you should be getting your news???

[obsesssedblerd]

“Just give up, Fushiguro.” The tallest kid of the group says, crossing his arms over his chest and flashing Megumi a grin. “There’s five of us and only one of you. There’s no way you’d win.” On either side of the bully, four more kids snickered, practically salivating over the idea of outnumbering him. 

Megumi sighs irritatedly. This is why he hates staying after school. On one hand, he’d be the first one to greet Yuuji once he’s done with his sports practice, but on the other hand, he’d end up getting into more altercations since he’d made quite a bit of enemies at his school. Your face floats in his mind, along with you worriedly asking him to promise that he wouldn’t fight anymore. 

Suddenly, the leader’s smile drops, and the five of them take a couple of fearful steps back as their gazes drift upwards. Two tall shadows loom over Megumi, and he doesn’t have to turn around to know who’s there. 

“Well, well,” Toji, his father, says with a lazy smile, then looks over at the man in his mid-twenties next to him. “Looks like you weren’t exaggerating after all. He really is fighting multiple students each time.” 

Satoru Gojo chuckles, then ruffles Megumi’s hair. “Told ya. And he hasn’t lost a single fight. However, anyone can tell that he’s holding back.” 

“Oh?” Toji raises a brow curiously, then taps his son’s shoulder. “That true? You’ve been holdin’ back?” 

Megumi turns around and meets his eyes. He nods once, and Toji gestures to the five kids. “Wanna stop?” 

The boy frowns. “I’ll get expelled.” 

“Trust me.” Satoru peers at him over his glasses, his blue eyes shining mischievously as he reassures him with his usual grin. “You won’t. Suguru’s already at the front desk taking care of it. I’ll head up there in a second to make sure everything’s going smoothly. Go on and handle it, kid.” 

His eyes widen slightly, and then he looks over at his father again. Toji’s scarred mouth lifts into a small, vicious smile, granting permission. “You heard your teacher.”

Megumi nods, faces the bullies with a similar smile, and cracks his knuckles.

—

“Hey there, Mrs. Fushiguro!” Satoru Gojo greets you when you walk into the school’s front office. Next to him, Suguru Geto gives you a friendly wave. “Picking up Tsumiki? Wow, you’re kinda early!” 

“Uh, yeah… What’re you two doing here? I know that Megumi is supposed to meet you both at Jujutsu Tech since Yuuji wanted to hang out after practice.” 

Satoru and Suguru laugh nervously, and you squint your eyes at them. Something’s up. “What did you two do this time?” You ask.

“...Nothing.” 

“Nothing at all!”

The doors to the principal’s office open, and you gasp loudly when you see five students sniffling as they walk out with their parents. All five of them were teary-eyed if not sobbing, bruised and holding ice packs to different parts of their bodies. Once they’ve left the school, you hear familiar voices. 

“Did you see how the last one ran?” Megumi snickers as he shoves his hands in his pockets. 

“Yup.” Toji laughs. “And you didn’t let him get far. That’s my boy! Let’s talk about how you tossed that one kid into the other and they hit the wall. Did Gojo teach you that one?” 

“Actually, I watched you handle—” Upon seeing you, Megumi stops in his tracks, and he gulps nervously. “Hi, Mom.” 

Toji’s eyes go wide. “Oh shit.” 

You cross your arms over your chest, and Satoru clears his throat. “Let’s look at the bright side here. He won’t be expelled or even suspended! It’s like the whole thing didn’t happen.” 

You ignore them and sigh at the sight of Megumi’s reddened knuckles. “Didn’t I tell you that you shouldn’t fight anymore? Your hands—” 

“Are strong enough to take out multiple enemies,” Toji says, wrapping a strong arm around your waist and pulling you closer. “We’re very proud of him. Can you imagine what he’ll do when he starts curse-hunting? His training is paying off.” 

You glare at him. “That’s true, but don’t try and– Mm…” Your mind goes completely blank when your husband gently kisses you. Behind you, Toji gestures to the three of them to leave now. 

When you hear footsteps shuffling away and the door closing, you pull away from Toji’s mouth and whirl around, groaning when you see that your son and his two teachers are gone. You turn back around to face him, and he smiles charmingly. “This isn’t over,” you tell him. 

“I know, I know.” He kisses your forehead, then chuckles. “You can lecture me after we grab Tsumiki and go for ice cream.”

[hellfirenacht]

Anomaly Part 3

Summary: You can talk to anyone in school with no problem. At least, anyone who’s not named Eddie Munson.

Tags: Anxious-ish!Reader but not shy, one sided pining, no use of y/n, fem!reader, one sided enemies to lovers, fem!reader

2.4k Words

Part 1, Part 2, Master List

Miles Cooper was still at school the following week, which meant that he was given no consequences for what had happened to you or for blaming Eddie. 

Eddie couldn’t even say he was surprised by this point. If Eddie really had been the one to trip you up, he was sure he’d get suspended or even expelled. It was so close to the end of the year and he could feel that Higgins was looking for any reason to keep him from walking across that stage to get his diploma. 

You hadn’t shown up on Monday. Not that it mattered to Eddie either way, you two didn’t even know each other. But you had cleared his name. That was the thought that kept buzzing around his brain like a mosquito that he just couldn’t swat. Despite the glares and the snide remarks, you had gone out of your way to make sure that he didn’t get in trouble for something he didn’t do, which is more than what he could say for a lot of people at this school.

He had to give you credit for that at least. Not many people outside of his small friend circle would stick up for him like that. 

With work and band practice, it was easy to forget about you until Wednesday when you showed up to English class with a thick white cast around your wrist and arm. Shit, your fall really had done a number on you. You were struggling with juggling your books and they fell off your desk with a clatter, and you thanked the girl next to you for helping you pick them up. 

Eddie would like to think he was above eavesdropping and gossip, but he’d be wrong. 

“What happened?” The girl- Sarah- asked. 

“I face planted on the bleachers at the pep rally.” you said, taking your seat again. “One minute I was trying to get down, and the next I’m getting elbowed and my arm hurt.” 

“I heard someone pushed you” 

Eddie heard that emphasis on someone and gripped his pencil, hearing the subtle sound of wood splintering against his thumb. This was not the time to make a scene. 

“No one pushed me. Miles elbowed me and I fell.” you said firmly. 

You were still defending him, Eddie wasn’t sure how to feel. 

“If you’re gonna spread rumors, could you do me a favor and make it sound more interesting?” You continued, “Like, start telling people that I dived off the bleachers to distract everyone that Miles shit himself.”

Eddie snorted loudly before he could stop himself. He slammed his hand pencil down on the table and covered his mouth. Dammit, why did you have to be funny?

Sarah laughed, much less obnoxiously and agreed before asking to sign your cast. You must be covered in signatures now, as you seemed to be friends with everyone. 

Everyone except him. 

Not that it mattered. 

It was nice and all that you saved him from getting in trouble, but it’s not like you two were ever going to be friends, no matter how funny you were. 

Class started and Eddie spent the rest of class doodling and barely paying attention to the teacher. This was usually how his school days went. Yeah, he had been trying harder in the past two years to graduate and pass his classes but some days his brain just refused to focus on anything important. 

The bell rang and Eddie took his sweet time getting his things together. Next period was his favorite- lunch. 

“Shit.” He heard you mumble as you tried to wrangle your books with one arm. He knew there was a rule about not being allowed to carry around a backpack but, shit, Eddie would have thought you’d get some help. Shouldn’t one of those many signatures be offering to carry your books? 

Obviously not, as you finally managed to tuck your notebook under your arm. You looked flustered, and hot in the face. Your brows were furrowed in concentration and you finally let out a loud groan as your papers went flying everywhere as students for the next class started coming in. 

It was pathetic, and Eddie couldn’t exactly leave you stranded. You cleared his name, so at least he could try and help you out right now. Maybe he’d even figure out what your problem with him was. 

“Here.” Eddie said and grabbed the papers closest to him and picked up your binder before you could stop him. 

Normally when Eddie looked at you, you’d turn your nose up at him and look away. This time, he found himself giving you direct eye contact. Your eyes were wide with surprise that he had stepped in to help, followed by more frustration. 

“Thanks.” you said shortly. 

“Need help getting to the lunch room?” Eddie asked. He’d wait for you to say no, to tell him to get out of your face, and he can walk away with a clear conscience that at least he tried. 

You were staring at him as if he were some sort of alien who had just asked you why the sky wasn’t orange. Yeah ok, he could take the hint. 

“Yes.” 

The word sounded choked out, as if the single syllable was a struggle to say. But you had said it, and Eddie was a man of his word, even though he hadn’t promised you anything. 

Eddie stacked your notebook and binder on top of his. You were still staring at him as if you couldn’t believe he was talking to you. Eddie couldn’t really believe it himself. 

He’d do this small favor for you as a thanks, and then you two could go back to ignoring each other. 

“Lead the way.” He said, offering up his best impression of his dad’s smile. If he was lucky (which Eddie never was) then maybe some of his dad’s Munson Magic might rub off on him enough so that you’d at least relax a little. 

You only nodded and led him out of the classroom. 

You didn’t like the cast and it’s off-putting stark white bandages. You wanted to choose a different color- maybe red or black or even that weird obnoxious toxic green that was offered to you. But your mom decided that white would be better because it would make it easier to sign, so white it was. 

Your parents at least took pity on you Monday, letting you stay home to wallow in embarrassment that you had broken your wrist and fractured your arm in front of all of your classmates. Tuesday they released you back to school, but you had instead skipped getting on the bus (because you could not drive one-handed) and played hooky at the local library. It’s not like anyone would care that someone your age was skipping school. 

Wednesday came, and you forced yourself onto the bus, the first time you had used it since moving to Hawkins. The ride was bumpy and long, and your walkman ran out of batteries halfway to school. 

It wasn’t as bad as you thought it would be. A few people came up and signed your cast, some asking what happened. You just told them the same thing, that Miles elbowed you and you fell. It wasn’t as exciting as the idea of the school Freak attacking you, but you weren’t about to get Eddie involved in something that he had nothing to do with. You were just going to ignore the fact that Eddie had been the reason you were heading in that direction anyway. 

English class rolled around, and you spent most of it poking the inside of your cast with your pencil, trying to scratch an itch that just wouldn’t go away. It was bad enough that you had fucked up your dominant arm, but this was actually Hell. 

When the bell rang, everyone else seemed to be in a huge rush to get out of the classroom. Everyone but Eddie. Obviously. Because of course the one person you were trying to avoid was now slinking around you. 

Your long weekend, you had done your best to try and not think about him. You could handle falling in front of everyone else in school, but with Eddie it was different. Your stomach twisted as you remembered how he had yelled as you fell next to him and how he had looked at you as you had ignored your stinging arm as you ran out of the gym to clear his name. 

It was bad enough he had heard you make a poor joke out of context, you weren’t going to throw him under the bus either. 

“Need help getting to the lunch room?”

Your face was already hot with the embarrassment of not being able to carry your own books. Your backpack had ripped the second you got off the bus, and you lost your math homework to a puddle. You hated that he was still here to begin with, was breaking your wrist already not enough pain and suffering? 

You were staring at him. Fuck- dammit- shit say something back-

“Yes.” 

The word almost got stuck in your throat. The only reason it came out was that as painful and embarrassing as this moment was, what Stacy would do to you if she found out you said no would be far worse. 

Eddie dropped your books on top of his, and gave you a smile that looked so forced that you couldn’t stand to look at him. Was this being done just out of pity? You’d run for the hills if he wasn’t holding you binder hostage. 

You led him through the hallway, and towards your locker. “I need to put some things up.” you said, and he followed you. 

The hallway was already mostly clear, and so no one seemed to pay you much mind. You weren’t sure what the rumor mill would churn out with Eddie carrying your books, but did it even matter? Two more months and you’d be out of this school and none of these people would matter. 

No one except the young man following behind you. 

Eddie dutifully held your books as you put them away. The door to your locker stopped you from seeing his face, which seemed like the perfect time to take the foot out of your mouth that had been there since the pep rally. 

“...I’m... uh... I’m sorry for what I said on Friday.” you started, pretending to rifle through a folder. “About you being in a cult. It was a stupid joke and I shouldn’t have said it.”

Eddie was quiet for a moment, and you felt your whole body tense up as you waited for him to say anything. 

“Yeah we uh.. We aren’t big on sacrificing in Hellfire.” he said carefully. “Had to stop that with the club budget cuts.” 

You had to bite the inside of your cheek and close your eyes tight to keep from laughing. You covered it up with a cough. “Yeah uh... sounds like that’d be a lot of paperwork.” 

You took a slow and deep breath before closing your locker to look at him. He was smiling at you, a far less forced one than before. It was almost the same smile he gave his friends when he didn’t know you were looking. 

It wasn’t much, but it didn’t stop the butterflies from exploding in your chest. You should see a doctor about that. 

“Oh yeah, tons.” Eddie said. “And with all the letters we get about our club being associated with the Devil it was just a bureaucratic headache.”

I know that if I could just talk to him one then I’d be fine. You had told yourself that every single day since these pesky little feelings emerged. Maybe you had been right. The two of you made your way to the cafeteria. 

“You’re just some nerds playing with dice.” you said, and realize that could be taken the wrong way. “Not that there’s anything wrong with that. I’ve also... played board games.” 

God you were acting like a total airhead. Board games? Really? You were acting like your brain was broken rather than your wrist. 

You felt Eddie’s eyes on you, and saw how he also looked unsure about your answer. Whatever was going through his head, he brushed aside. 

“I should also thank you for clearing my name.” he said, changing the subject. “You came running out of the gym and saved my ass.” 

“I wasn’t going to let someone get in trouble just because I fell!” It was the most assured thing you had ever said to Eddie.

“Well, either way I’d say you’re my hero.” Eddie said. “I’m pretty sure if you hadn’t come running to my rescue I’d probably be expelled by now, and then who would be around to corrupt the youth of Hawkins?” 

Hero. Eddie called you his hero. You felt your body buzzing with an energy that you were not in a place to use. 

You two were in the cafeteria now, and you led Eddie over to where Stacy was sitting. Stacy, being the queen of subtlety that she was, was openly gawking at the sight of the two of you together. 

She was giving you a look, and that look said that the second that Eddie was out of earshot you would be giving her a play by play of every single second of this interaction. 

Eddie dropped your books on the table by Stacy.

“Hi, Eddie!” she said in a perky voice. You wanted to kick her, and shot her a warning look which she ignored. “Will you be dining with us today?” 

You wanted to rip your hair out. 

“As much as I would love to spend my lunch period with you two ladies, I’m afraid my freshmen wouldn’t survive out there in the wild without me.” Eddie gave a dramatic bow. 

“Thank you. For helping me.” you said stiffly. Being on the receiving end of Eddie’s theatrics was making your brain blow a fuse. 

Eddie gave you a nod and sauntered off to his usual table where he was immediately hounded by his friends for being seen with you. You wondered what they were thinking. Did you look weird next to Eddie? Were they judging you for not being part of their group?

“Stop drooling.” Stacy said. “Talk.”

I have never broken a bone and have done minimal googling.

Also these chapters are getting longer dammit. This is supposed to be the easy stuff to wright UGH. Also tell me if there's something you wanna see with this, because I'm winging it like I do with all my writing lol

Tag List: @eddiemunsonfuxks @kirsteng42 @strangereads @pedroschka @generoustrashpeach

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@sassidykassidy @cultish-corner @thedoubleexposurephotography @bambibiest @wheels-of-despair

[lalunanymph]

MARRY THE TRAITOR ; gojo satoru

⟡ the day you met your demise is the same day you met gojo satoru, your betrothed from a world so different from yours—a cruel prince who is undoubtedly in love with someone else. as the stakes rise and you race against the clock to beat your brutal fate, can you make the ultimate choice between your heart or your happily ever after?

includes: fem!reader, reader is a florist in our world, arranged marriage, enemies to lovers, slow burn, yandere!gojo, prince!gojo, princess!reader, reader is in cerena's body, princess cerena is described to have pink hair and feminine features, isekai-ed reader, mentions of death, mentions of blood, assault, injuries, smoking, mentions of terminal illnesses (cancer), language

⟡ masterlist

ACT 1, SCENE 1: MIRI'S REPRIEVE

It was horrifyingly cold tonight. 

Your body seized with bouts of shivers the second you stepped out of your shop, the smell of roses lingering in your hair. The lights are already switched off, the tulips you were shearing just a few seconds ago placed in crystal vases by the shop window to keep them from wilting overnight. 

However, as much as you try to distract yourself, there’s a shake in your hands you cannot ignore.

Pulling out a crumpled cigarette from your jacket pocket, you burn the end of the white stick with your cheap convenience store lighter, watching the flickering flames cast shadows across the wet road as you’re suddenly struck by a thought from a long, long time ago. 

The great Greek philosopher, Plato, once theorized that humans were born whole. 

Each of us, regardless of race, creed, or religion, shared one body, four arms, four legs and two faces fused together on a singular head. 

However, the gods—vain as they were—feared the human’s increasing power and Zeus himself devised to split them into two separate parts, forever condemning mortals to search for their other half in a journey filled with despair, longing and loneliness.  

The first time you heard this in Philosophy 101, a part of you was intrigued, if not a little terrified at the notion. While you weren’t a particularly huge subscriber to the idea of having a soulmate, it did have a sense of appeal for a girl raised on stories of handsome princes saving dainty princesses from their castles of grief and isolation. 

But, tonight, your jumbled mind can’t stay on Plato or distractions for too long. It constantly circles back to your mom.  

The scans she took had came back positive, and the doctor’s bleak voice on the other end of the line read like a death knell to your flimsy hopes that the cancer hadn’t spread further than her stomach. 

Your eyes weighed heavily, the burden of knowing sanding you to the bare bones till you felt close to breaking down on the cold road, screaming and shaking your fist at the night sky; cursing the gods for tearing the only person in the world who still loved you from your side.

Why they did it, you will never know. 

You weren’t exceptionally powerful nor did you pose a threat to the deities above. You were a simple florist in the middle of the city, trying to make ends meet and pay all your bills on time; nothing but a tax-paying citizen and a role model for small business women trying to make it big in a competitive city.

Smoke curls around your figure and you suck on the nicotine, letting it coat the back of your throat and numb the ends of your fingers.

Oblivious to your surroundings, you tread past an alleyway, ignoring the scampering of rats and smell of garbage burning through your nose. You inhale another toxic breath, expelling it out and watching the plume of smoke disappear upwards.

“Hey.” 

Nothing could prepare you for what came next. 

Turning around to appraise the voice calling you from the shadows, white hot pain cracks through your head, leaving you blind from the sudden assault.

Your cigarette falls somewhere at your feet, and you tumble to the gravelly ground on your hands and knees, skinning your palms as your ragged breaths echo in this dilapidated and abandoned alleyway. 

A hand shoots out to grab your purse, and before you can croak a yell or blindly turn to confront your assailant, another blow cracks down your skull, making you collide face first into the dirt-packed ground. 

Pain explodes in your face, white-hot and agonizing. Your breathing and the sound of blood rushing through your ears is the only thing you can hear as you breathe in the smell of dirt and blood, your head feeling like a thousand sparks of pain were going off at once. 

Cracking open your good eye, you catch a sliver of light in the distance; it washes over you, potent and soothing. The light at the end of the alleyway shimmers, and you think this is it—this is the last thing you will see from this world. 

Not your mother’s smile, or your best friend’s laugh. There are no flowers in your hand, no loved ones standing over your sickbed to kiss your cheek one last time before you depart this world.

It’s you, the floor, the blood trickling in your mouth, and your consciousness slowly ebbing away.

The last thing you remember before your world snuffs out like a pathetic candle is seeing the beady eyes of a rat shining in the dark, its long tail curling around its dirty body as it scampers closer and closer to you. 

And then, nothing else remains.

“... care to explain yourself?” 

The world is too bright, much too loud and you cringe back, a loud ringing clanging in your ears like the high-pitched squeal of a thousand nails on a chalkboard. 

What… is this scene? 

Your eyes struggle against the bright light and you wince, throwing your hand up to your face to ward off the glare. 

When your gaze finally focuses, you’re confronted by a pair of ice cold blue eyes, his sneer tearing through your mind like a bloody gash on white canvas. 

“Are you an imbecile?” His chilling tone laced with arrogance and contempt sears through you, leaving you mute and dumbstruck from this stranger’s sudden hostility. “I asked you if you would like to explain the accusations brought against you for hurting Miri.”

A girl with bright red hair and freckles splashed across her cheeks looks up at you with fear in her eyes. You take a step back, assessing her attire and countenance with open horror. Her pale face like the moon, dirt-streaked hands with stubby nails and a uniform splotched with indiscernible stains. 

But, that isn’t what draws your attention: it’s the look of contempt secretly masked under her woeful and pitiful expression. Those green eyes burn through you with the force of a thousand deaths, each one more painful than the last.

“Cerena.” 

Your eyes grow wider when you realize this strange man is speaking to you—calling you by an unknown name. 

As your attention shifts back to him, you’re stunned and breathless. His shock of pure white hair, towering stature and cruel, azure gaze never yields from your expressions, thin lips twisted into a baleful grimace. His attire is one you have never seen before: a regal, embroidered jacket and matching pants in the darkest shade of navy blue. Regalia and military medals drip from the lapels of his jacket like icy tears, each metallic glint striking more fear into your heart as you take in his majestic and imposing demeanor.

“I said, speak, wench!” 

Dexterous and pale fingers, like that of a violinist, grasps your jaw painfully as he jerks your face towards him. Instinctively, you tense and push him away, a petrified look on your face.

“Who are you?” 

Obviously, it wasn’t a question he was expecting. The princely man gives a dignified scoff, the corners of his lips twisting into a terrifying sneer. 

“Oh, so now you're playing the short term memory loss card? Stop begging for attention, Cerena, and own up to your mistakes.” He moves aside and the maid cowering behind him lifts her teary eyes to him, her pitiful state clearly tugging on his heart strings and his protective instincts. “Miri told me you slapped her when she wouldn’t braid your hair fast enough, and you even threw your tea at her. Pray tell, is that a way how a princess acts, Your Highness?” 

His words drip with venomous sarcasm. You open your mouth and then close it, unsure of how to respond to him—what you could even say in these circumstances.

But inside of you, welling deeply and painfully, is a surge of anger at being falsely accused for something you did not do. You have no idea who he is, who Miri was to him and who even is this woman called ‘Cerena’ he keeps on referring to you as.

What you do know is that he has slighted you with his openly hostile tone and body language, and if years of being a florist in a cutthroat business has taught you, it’s that you should always stand your ground against unruly customers to safeguard your reputation and dignity.

“I have no idea what you are speaking of,” your words come out frostier than you intended. Your sharp gaze sweeps to the other maids observing the spectacle with stony faces. “I wish to go back to my room.” 

Turning on your heel, you take one step forward and realize just how heavy your gown is. Lace and organza with dangling pendants woven through the thick fabric, you move as if walking in a vat of molasses, slow and controlled, when all you want to do is storm off. 

“Hey. I am not done speaking to you—”

It’s easy for him to catch up and grab your arm, impeding you from making your swift exit.

“Is this how you are to treat your subjects when we become wedded, Cerena? I would think that the princess of Kraith herself would have better manners and not behave like a barbarian!” 

His words snap something tight in your chest, and your nostrils flare. You break free from his grasp and spin around, fists clenched to your sides.

“Do not touch me,” your deathly warning stills the entire room. “Do not speak to me like this and if you wish to protect her reputation—”

Your eyes fall on the maid still cowering on the floor, her eyes turned to the ground, but a shadow of a smirk on her face belies her true intentions. 

She was attempting to frame me… or, Cerena. She is trying to get us in trouble with this powerful, spiteful man. 

“—next time, choose someone else who doesn’t make it obvious that this is all a ploy to smear my name.”

mtt fun fact: maids are divided into different tiers according to the nobles they serve. miri is at the bottom tier, and her scope of work mainly focuses on cleaning the hallways and stables

dawn says: it's bit of a shorter chapter, but trust, the drama is gonna hit you like thief-kun when he smashed our heads in yayy <33

!! reblogs and feedback and asks about this series are so beloved and appreciated and will motivate me to update and write faster <3

©️ all rights reserve to lalunanymph. do not copy elements of my story, repost or claim as your own.

[zevrra]

never forget—

synopsis: where sebastian is actually worried about MC and regrets casting crucio on them caaaause that moment in the game was not enough for me pfft!

tags: 18(+), lil angst, mostly fluff, sebastian(18) x reader, i didn’t know how to end this oops, one-shot, 2k words.

“Crucio!”

The pain that followed that one little word was excruciating.

Yet the spell casted upon you was of your own doing. You, Ominis, and Sebastian had become good friends since your first day at Hogwarts. Always together, always the 3 of you somehow in trouble. Well, mostly you and Sebastian. Somehow Ominis always managed to get out of the trouble the two of you dragged him into. You were Slytherin after all, it was most likely in your blood.

When you first met Sebastian, he had such an eager to learn that his demeanor was contagious. So much so you couldn’t help but also want to gain more knowledge with him over the years. It was all thanks to Ominis from keeping you two from ending up expelled. Your savior in a sense. But ever since the three of you had become good friends, Sebastian never let up about Salazar Slytherin. He was set on finding his Scriptorium, begging Ominis for so long to show him the way. Seeing as he believed finding it would help cure his sister’s, Anne, curse.

When Ominis had finally given into you both and led the way, the three of you worked wonderfully together. Traversing dark and wary caves. Fending off giant spiders, solving puzzles all that good stuff. Until finally you reach a room with a single note, bones buried in dirt, no way out, the word CRUCIO etched into the stone before your feet, and what looked to be a screaming apparition burned onto a mirror.

You sadly read the note aloud for all to hear. Detailing a grim last few words from Ominis’s aunt. Who unfortunately had gone looking for the Scriptorium, alone, and met an untimely fate. You reach out to gently touch Ominis’s shoulder and he stills beneath your touch.

“I’m so sorry about your aunt, Omni.” You mourn. He nods in acceptance. Nothing they did now could’ve changed what had happened to his aunt. He would at least find some peace in knowing what happened to her.

Sebastian is at your side then. Concerned look on his own freckled face. “Ominis…I know it’s hard. But the letter details using Crucio. You’re the best suited for this—“

“No! I won’t do it. To use Crucio you have to mean it. I will not cast that spell ever again…especially on you two.” Ominis steps away from your reach. Closing off from the activity entirely. You didn’t blame him.

You turn to face Sebastian then who looks..almost disappointed with Ominis's rejection. He gestures for you to follow him closer to the wailing mirror. Hauntingly beautiful, even in its twisted state.

“Well, two options. You cast Crucio on me, or I…cast it on you. It’s the only way we’re getting out of here. We can’t die here and now because of—of morals.” Sebastian whispers to you. The thought of dying in that suffocating tomb alone makes your skin crawl.

Ominis had always been vocal about how horrible any of the killing curses were, especially this spell. Seeing as he was forced to cast it when he was younger. The nightmares still haunt the blonde from what you could tell. His sleepless nights. The flinch at loud noises. It was obvious, whatever you decided, that this would forever weigh heavy on your soul. Yet the spell…could come in handy when facing Ranrok. He was your enemy after all.

You hoped it would never come down to using it though.

“Fine. Teach me the spell but you…you cast it on me. I won’t hurt you Seb.” You mumble. And at first, he’s hesitant. His wand slightly swayed before he reluctantly nods. His hands slightly shake as he teaches you the wave of the wand. He had never performed the dark arts before and this could go very wrong or just really wrong. Either way was going to hurt. But you trusted him.

That’s how you ended up in the here and now. Agonizing pain ripped through your flesh like lightning. Flames behind your eyeballs that force them to shut tight. Hoping to ease the pain away. Your teeth gnash against your lip to hold back screams of pain. It does nothing. Dark magic moves under your skin like writhing red and green tentacles. You gasp between almost suffocating screams.

Breathe in, scream, breathe out.

Your back is against the stone, arched, burning hot. Even as Ominis, or maybe it was Sebastian’s, or both of their hands are grabbing at your arms. Cool fingers press into your hot flesh as the boy’s try to lift you from the floor.

They try to comfort you during one of the worst moments of your life. It doesn’t help. They both fumble as they move you into the room that opened up behind the wailing mirror. The pain is nauseating. Every fumble, correction, and movement makes your stomach churn. Threatening to spill out your lunch. Your consciousness is slowly fading at this point. Stars blinking behind your eyelids as you grasp for whatever you can to stay awake.

Through the pulsing pain in your head and ears, you barely hear the two boys arguing. More or less Ominis yelling about how he was right. How this was a stupid idea as he struggles to help carry you. Ominis can’t see where he steps yet he’s trying so hard to save you now.

“You—you’re both idiots!” Ominis snarls. Struggling with words through his rage and panic. “How could you do something like this!”

“I understand, Ominis! Just—just, Merlin, help me! Help me get to the infirmary!” Sebastian spits back as they continue to fumble around, looking for an exit.

The last thing you hear is Sebastian calling for desperate help before the pain becomes too much and finally takes you under. Passing out from the curse spell later than you would’ve liked.

When concussions come back to you, it’s almost unbearable. Your eyes flutter open but fall closed once again. Maybe you could just stay like that for forever. Lying on a cloud, nice and warm, with your eyes closed. Eh, sounds a little too much like death for your liking.

Thankfully, your second attempt at waking up is far more fruitful. Candlelight flickers rapidly at the edge of your feet as your eyes slowly come into focus. You make out the white sheets laying across your body. Feel the firm mattress against your back. Connecting the dots, slowly but surely, that you were in the infirmary.

Your head moves slightly to continue looking around. Hoping a nurse was close by so you could ask for some water or medicine or anything to make the dull ache in your body stop. Instead your eyes find Sebastian.

His unruly brown hair is somehow even messier than usual. He slumps against the side of your bed and from what you can tell, he might be asleep. Seeing as it was sometime during the night. If you had to guess he probably snuck into the infirmary to be at your side.

Suddenly memories of what happened in the Scriptorium come back to you. Sending a harsh chill down your entire body. The cast of Crucio echoes in the back of your mind. You’ll never forget the feeling. Or the look on Seb’s face as he waved the spell and casted it upon you.

‘Crucio can only be cast if you mean it.’ You remember Ominis’s haunting words. Sebastian must’ve meant it. But you try your best to not blame him. He was just trying to get you all out of that stone grave.

“Seb…” You try to speak. Your throat burns as you attempt to rouse the sleeping man at your side. Voice hoarse, borderline gone, from what you can only assume is from the screaming you barely remember doing. “Sebastian.” You barely manage his full name.

His body shifts at the sound of his name but he doesn’t rise. So you make your way to sit up. Although the moment you prepare to sit up, weight shifting ever so slightly, Sebastian shoots up instantly. His pretty green eyes meet your gaze in a wild look. As if he can’t believe you’re awake. Dried drool sticks to the edge of his lips. You can’t help but laugh. Or what you assume is a laugh. To Seb it probably sounds like you’re coughing.

“I—we—are you okay?” Seb stumbles over his words. Knowing Sebastian, he most likely had something planned to say the moment you woke up. Yet now he was almost speechless. For the first time ever.

“I’m o-okay just…w-water.” You manage to mumble. Now he’s quick to react. A glass of water is held out with lightning speed to you and you take it graciously.

After a moment of what felt like an eternity of being parched, you chug the water given to you, before you hand the glass off and sit fully upright. Your fingers lay in your lap, picking at the cotton of the blanket.

Silence falling between the two of you was so uncommon. It almost felt worse than writhing in pain. Not really but the wall built up was hard to ignore. You needed that wall to come down.

“How long was I asleep?” You ask softly. Breaking the silence as your throat is finally feeling better after some water.

“Three days,” Sebastian replies. He doesn’t look at you. You don’t blame him, not really. The guilt must weigh heavy on his shoulders.

Three days. The fact that it had been days since you had passed out in the scriptorium made your gut twist. You can’t even imagine what rumors must have spread among the school. Or the amount of questions the headmaster will be asking you. Oh you were definitely in for some trouble.

“I’m so sorry.”

Apologies were not something Sebastian was known for. The fact that he was apologizing at all was almost shocking. You didn’t have to guess that he didn’t really mean it when he casted Crucio. It was all just a matter of choices, for you all to survive.

“It’s okay,” Your voice is soft as you speak. “I don’t want you to blame yourself. I agreed to it Sebastian,” You remind him. It only makes Seb angrier with himself.

“Of course I blame myself! I could’ve killed you!” Sebastian says in a strained voice. He wants to scream and yell. He wants you to scream and yell at him. For letting him do something so stupid. For not listening to Ominis in the first place. For being too eager.

“It was a matter of life or death Seb you know that—“ You began to say but he cuts you off as he quickly stands from his chair.

“But what if there was another way!? What if I didn’t have to…didn’t want to—I could’ve changed something!” He angrily hisses as he turns his head away from you.

Silences befalls between the two of you again. Stretched longer than previously as you can’t think of something to say. He had three days to beat himself up for dragging all three of you to that scriptorium. You couldn’t imagine how many scenarios he himself had imagined over and over again while in your slumber.

“What if I had lost you?”

The soft words are barely loud enough to hear. Just a whisper under his breath you almost can’t manage to make out. But you do. The somber confession comes at you like a heavy rainstorm. Unexpected, welcoming, lovely, and a little noisy from his previous minor outburst. Building from a small drop to a straight downpour and you’re caught in the middle of it with no umbrella.

Even in the candlelight you see the tips of ears, beat red as he refuses to look at you. Shoulders tense as he tries to will himself to calm down. It was late, you weren’t supposed to be awake, and he wasn’t supposed to be there. It was not the time for this conversation.

Yet it makes you smile anyway. Butterflies jump around under your skin, in your heart, stomach following suit in doing somersaults. You reach with a gentle hand and grab hold of his shirt sleeve, giving it a tug. For a moment he stands completely still. Debating whether or not it was the right moment to hash all of this out. It wasn’t. Yet a second tug on his sleeve has him turning to finally look at you.

This time when you meet his green eyes, his wild look is gone. He looks at you like you’re the cure to whatever alignment he’s currently experiencing. It’s a saddened, sleepless, relieved look. Feeling every emotion he’s ever felt in his life all in the span of a few short seconds.

You smile fondly at Sebastian, praying he could see it in the soft light of the infirmary. “But you didn’t,” You remind him. Almost gesturing to you, him, and your surroundings. “I’m still here, Seb.”

Sebastian simply nods. Not having the courage to speak for it may bring him to tears. Now that would truly be the end of the world if that happened.

You reach for his hand. Reassuring and gentle as your fingers intertwine with his. He’s stiff as a board at your touch. He has always yearned for it but never had the faith to act upon his feelings.

“Plus, it’ll take more than that to get rid of me.” You say hoping to ease the young man’s feelings. At least for tonight.

A squeeze to your hand is the only response you receive as he returns to his seat. He rests your connected hands on the bed before his head follows suit. Instead of returning to the side of your bed he makes himself comfy on your thigh. You smile at the puzzling picture before you.

The great Sebastian Sallow, a man who rarely asks for any help, unless it involves trekking in some dark cave somewhere, was vulnerably sprawled out on top of you.

You stifle a giggle, fearing if he heard you laugh he would assume the worst and pull away. Instead your free hand pushes through his hair. Pushing away dark curly hair from his freckled face.

“You should return to the dorms before the nurse finds you.” You hum as your eyes scan his own closed eyes. Gazing at the lengths of his eyelashes. Every freckle you could see, thinking how fun it could be to count them one day.

“‘Ts fine,” Sebastian shrugs it off. You hear the softness of his breathing, slowly becoming shallow as he falls asleep. Fast asleep in your thigh with his hand tightly wound to yours. You wish you could have a painting done of this moment. Hoping by every ounce of magic in your veins that you never forget this feeling or the sight. And by Merlin does the sight make your heart ache and pound in equal parts.

You just hoped to never go through something like this ever again. Hopefully Sebastian would see how powerful and dangerous the dark arts could be and look for another solution to healing Anne’s curse. Maybe the ancient magic you wield could help next time instead of turning to the unforgiving curses.

[viperify]

Kinktober 2024 | 𝗼𝗰𝘁 𝟯𝟭: ᴛᴏᴍᴀᴄᴏ X ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ɢʀᴀɴᴅ ꜰɪɴᴀʟᴇ

No Escape.

Short summary: As an Order member, Harry had asked you to keep a close look on Tom and Draco, your sworn enemies. As you spotted them exiting the castle late at night, you decided to follow their tracks. That’s how you ended up in their cabin in the Forbidden Forest, wrists and ankles tied, while they taught you what it meant to snoop into Death Eater business.

Warnings: 18+ only! mask kink, degradation, exploiting power, abduction, fear play, nipple play, rough oral!m receiving, unprotected p in v, rough sex in general, face slapping, dacryphilia, boot worship, dub con, orgasm denial, little to no aftercare, dark!tom, dark!draco

A/N: This marks the end of Kinktober 2024! For this last oneshot I wanted to write something darker and also decided to double the usual wordcount, to make it a worthy finale! I hope my posts were somewhat enjoyable. A huge thank you to everyone for reading and supporting my works <3

wordcount: 4,5k

part 2

It was dangerous, reckless even.

The Order had sent you to spy on two of your classmates, Tom and Draco. Harry had been suspicious of them having been turned into followers of Voldemort, so your task was to investigate and keep an eye on their movements within and outside of the castle. And it had been going well – you had listened to several of their conversations, in which they had talked about some sort of “tasks” they had to complete. However, you have kept that for yourself until now, not wanting the Order to disturb your research just yet.

But your ambition got the best of you. As you saw the both of them sneak out the castle late at night, you decided to follow them secretly, wanting to get behind whatever they were up to. After, you would finally report back to the Order and let them take over.

They headed in the direction of the Forbidden Forest, too fast for you to keep up with, losing them out of your sight. It was too late to turn around now, though. You entered the woods, trying to make as little noise as possible. The night sky was pitch black, having you rely on your hearing only. Creaking branches and eerie noises coming from creatures living in the Forbidden Forest made you regret your insatiable nosiness, having you flinch at every little sound.

It was then when you wanted to turn around, returning to your warm bed, keeping you from the cold of the freezing January nights. Your growing hunger to rat the two boys out however outweighed any discomfort you were feeling at the time.

Tom and Draco. You had never gotten on well with them, their ego and arrogance hitting a nerve every time you heard them speak, thus your commitment to have them expelled. If it was true what Harry said – them being Death Eaters – there would be no chance of them ever returning to Hogwarts again. A knowing smirk formed on your face at the thought. Not only were they horrible people to be around, no, they also had it out for you after finding out about your very unfortunate love interest for the brunette. It was a mistake, truly. You thought you had a slight chance of getting him to like you back but oh how mistaken you were.

People started picking up on the rumours, having them spread like fiendfyre. Soon enough, it reached Tom and the other boys, including Draco. They didn’t take it easy on you after that. Bitter mocking and bullying were part of your daily routine for basically the rest of the second year you spent at Hogwarts. Now, in your seventh year, the mocking had stopped, yet the tension between you still lingered thick in the air.

Naturally, these feelings had long vanished. Instead of love, pure hate filled your heart at the mere thought of them. Yet, sometimes you couldn’t help yourself but take a quick glance at the brunette’s curls that made you fall in love with him in the first place. And Draco’s sea-blue eyes, that drew you right in… you shook your head. It was wrong. Not after what they had put you through.

You would make them suffer just like they had made you suffer for years. It would finally all be over after tonight.

Seeing a small light further into the forest, you carefully walked towards it, investigating where it came from. Though, the closer you got to the source, the further it seemed to travel away. Truly curious you thought, not halting your movements.

Snap.

A loud crack of a wooden branch somewhere behind you tore you out of your thoughts, quickly hiding behind a nearby bush. You could feel your heart beating in your chest, blood rushing through your ears. Had you missed something? They couldn’t have possibly spotted you, right? An owl flying by, screeching, made you flinch yet again.

Enough.

You have had enough of this. Standing up, you wiped your trousers, intending to return to the castle. You had failed to follow them, that was on you. It was time to give the Order the information they needed so desperately.

Turning around towards the exit of the forest, you bumped into something that definitely did not stand there before.

“There there, who do we have here?” A familiar voice mumbled, though somehow distorted by a… Death Eater mask.

It wasn’t easy to make out due to the lack of lighting, yet so recognizable at the same time. Your eyes shot open, heart hammering in your chest. You stumbled backwards, attempting to make a run for it. A second pair of strong arms grabbed you, covering your mouth with one of their hands. “Where do you think you are going? Don’t you think it is rude to follow us all the way here and then wanting to leave so suddenly? He questioned. It was then when you realized who you were facing. Tom and Draco, disguised as Death Eaters.

“So it’s true!” You spat, somewhat freeing yourself of the blonde’s strong grip. “You are Death Eaters.”

No answer, only scoffs coming from their side. While the blonde still held onto you, Tom took your wand, tugging it into his own coat. “Give me my wand back and let me go!” You demanded, though your pleas fell on deaf ears. “Won’t be needing it anymore, darling.”

“Don’t call me that!”

“That won’t be the worst thing we are going to refer to you as tonight.”

Kicking, biting, screaming. It all didn’t help. They dragged you to a small hut, deeper into the forest, close to where you had originally spotted the source of light coming from. As they opened the door, you took in the seemingly cozy setting revealing itself to you. With two beds on each side and a small chimney in the back of the cabin, it didn’t intimidate you as much as you thought it would. As soon as the door fell shut behind you, a chair was summoned to the middle of the room, the brunette making you sit on it. A quick swirl of his wand later your ankles and wrists were bound tightly to the chair, making you unable to even move the slightest bit. The ropes burnt into your skin, as the blonde stuffed a cloth in your mouth, securing it with tape to keep you from talking. They lit the fireplace, warmth immediately spreading through the freezing hut.

Finally, they stood in front of you, as you now were able to see them properly for the first time. They were dressed in all black, heavy boots, the signature Death Eater mask covering their face and hid their hair under a black hood. If it weren’t for their voices, even those slightly distorted through the mask, you wouldn’t have recognized them. That was the least of your worries at the moment though. After all, you sat there in front of two Death Eaters, tied up on a chair, your wand long gone. You cursed yourself internally for even getting in this situation, and slowly but surely fear settled in. What would they do to you after realising you had been snooping around?

Slowly, the taller figure, Tom, stalked towards you, step after step coming closer to your helpless self.

“That’s what they call “fighters” in their ranks. Potter had always been fond of you, hm? That’s how you got in in the first place. No sane mind would even consider taking you in otherwise. Must have done many filthy things to convince him. Of course, we didn’t expect anything else. Look at you. So easy to catch. To tie up. To use for our own good.”

He circled around you, finally coming to a halt behind you, resting his arms on the on the chair as he leaned in, his face inching closer to yours. “Where is the Order now to protect you?” The brunette whispered into your ear with fake sympathy.

Your face turned to the side as the second man’s palm met your cheek harshly, leaving a red imprint behind. Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry. It would only satisfy their sick minds.

“Speak when spoken to!” Draco demanded. “Oh, my bad. Forgot you can’t.” He mocked, tearing the tape from your face in a quick motion. You hissed at the pain, yet remained silent otherwise. You wouldn’t let them get to you. Not like this. After all they had done to you, you wouldn’t let them break you again, you had sworn to it.

“Don’t want to talk? Too bad. Exactly for this scenario we have come prepared. We know how much you love rats, doll.” They revealed a cage, a rat sitting within. Placing the cage it on your lap, they watched your reaction.

“Get that thing away from me!” you screeched, tears falling down your face. There was no use in shuffling around to get it off, the ropes were too tight.

“Not if you act like this, darling.”

You couldn’t believe it. They wouldn’t really harm you, would they? “Please! I will do anything!”

“You answer every single question and follow every single command we give you. Otherwise…” Tom dragged out the last word as his fingers travelled to the lock, playing with it. “No, no please I will!”

“Wise choice.” You felt an intense relief as they finally moved it out of sight.

“You bastards!” You cried, breathing shakily, though immediately regretting your choice of words. Another hard slap to your other cheek. “You are in no position to speak to us like that.”

“What are you going to do to me?” You asked, sobbing, your gaze flickering between the two in front of you.

They finally took of their mask, revealing themselves to you. You recognized the gorgeous brunette curls and stunning deep-blue eyes straight away.

“Nothing you haven’t been wishing for, darling. You should know Draco and me are skilled Legilimens, aware of all your dirty imaginations.”

Shit.

Throwback to Potions Class, sixth year

You were sitting with your friends, studying the ingredients of a new potion, when Tom and Draco entered the classroom with their friends. Their presence always had a somewhat bitter taste to it. You hated them for their smug, arrogant behaviour, yet couldn’t deny your attraction towards them, as much as you hated to admit it.

They sat down, preparing their cauldron. Your gaze wandered to Tom and Draco’s hands, taking in the shape of their slender fingers. The way they held onto their wand, the way they worked the knife – you wondered what else they could do. In general, they were beautifully built. Taller than you, perfectly shaped body. Your mind went as far as imagining what they would look like without their Slytherin robes, just when you could feel a piercing gaze on you, tearing you out of your daydream. It was Tom, looking at you as though he had heard you think.

You turned your focus back to your textbook, avoiding his stare. Not thinking much of it, these thoughts kept coming back every now and then, getting more intense. At some point you wish they just bent you over that damn table and fucked you right there in the classroom.

You hated yourself for it. Your sworn enemies – and you thought of them like that?

Back to the present

All these months – they knew? They knew what you had been daydreaming about? Heat rushed to your face, turning a deep shade of red. You felt exposed and embarrassed to a level you didn’t think was possible.

“So this was all planned? You lured me into the forest so you could get back at me?” You hissed as realization set in.

“Don’t you think we have noticed your pathetic attempts to spy on us? This here was all part of the plan. And you so perfectly followed us into our trap. This is about teaching you a lesson not to mess with us. If you behave, we might even think about letting you go unharmed, hm?” The blonde smiled, his index finger lifting your chin so you were forced to look at him, while his thumb softly swiped along your jawline.

Hot tears threatened to spill yet again. You were in big trouble, not even sure if you would ever make it out of this cabin alive.

“Save your tears for later. You will need them.” Tom said sternly, retrieving more ropes from a drawer.

Draco’s rough fingers expertly loosened the ties around your wrists and ankles, holding your arms behind your back so the brunette could fasten the ropes again, rubbing your sore skin before doing so. Before you could react, the blonde yanked you up by your hair, other hand around your throat so you were pressed flush against his chest, unable to move with your hands tied behind your back as Tom knelt down to also bind your ankles together.

“Want her on her knees.” The brunette instructed, Draco's knee pressed into the back of yours, sending you crashing to the floor, your knees hitting the ground hard. It was all so fucked up, yet you couldn’t help but feel excitement rush through your body at the thought of what they may make you do.

Tom backhanded you once on each side, leaving a burning sensation behind. “Already forgotten we can hear your thoughts? You shouldn’t be fucking enjoying this, whore.”

The blonde kept you in your position, his knee pressing into your spine as Tom made quick work of your clothes, basically tearing them off your body. You were breathing heavily, wincing at the sound of the ripping fabric. It was sensation overload – it all happened so quickly, one second you were on the chair, the next on the floor, Tom degrading you while tying you up, ripping the clothes from your skin.

Tom shook his head. “No bra? Merlin help you.” His hand reached for your tits, rolling your hardened nipples between his fingers. Soft gasps left your parted lips, watching his fingers do magic.

“Pathetic. So damn pathetic. Bet you do this with Potter every other day, huh?”

“Jealous?” You asked, biting your lip playfully, finding Tom’s darkening eyes. Where you got the confidence from? You didn’t know. But you decided it would be even more fun if you riled them up just a little bit.

“Going to fucking regret this.” The brunette sneered, fetching some type of metal clamps from the same drawer he had gotten the ropes from. You had never seen anything remotely close to that before, curious what he was going to do with them.

Oh.

“That hurts!” You complained, eyebrows furrowing.

Draco knelt down behind you, his hand circling your throat, forcing your head onto his shoulder. “You better be quiet and take it. If you decide to act like a brat, you get treated like one.”

The brunette repeated the process with the other breast, leaving you sore and wanting.

They then switched positions, Draco standing right in front of you. “Undo the zipper. With your mouth if you have to.”

Eagerly, you did as you were told, the blonde finishing the job, his painfully hard length on full display right in front of you. “Get to work.” Tom demanded, shoving your face towards the blonde. Another, softer slap to your cheek. “Open your mouth.” Draco instructed, slapping his cock onto your lips. You did as you were told. Sucking and twirling your tongue around his sensitive tip at first, before eagerly taking more of him inside of you. Tom pushed you down on the blonde’s length, who picked up his pace, thrusting in and out of your mouth. You choked around him, not able to take him entirely, to the dismay of the blonde. “Fucking open up that throat for me, slut.” He sneered, tip hitting the back of your mouth. Tom held you there, and you were sure if it were just a few seconds longer you would have passed out from the lack of oxygen in your body.

The blonde pulled out, letting you catch your breath. “You like this too, don’t you? Damn right you do.”, shoving his length back inside of you without any warning. He was rough – merciless to be exact. Your gagging and choking seemed to turn him on even more, relentlessly abusing your throat. Tom pushed you down one more time, his other hand choking you, the tip of your nose touching Draco’s lower abdomen. Your eyelids got heavy, vision going blurry before the brunette yanked your head back. You coughed heavily, your head resting on Tom’s shoulder.

“Two minutes break, then it’s my turn.” He whispered into your ear, cupping your breasts. Your head shot up, whining at the soreness of them. “P-Please take them off.” You croaked, your tear-soaked face turning into a pout.

“Beg for it.”

“Please, it hurts. Please take them off.”

Draco and Tom exchanged a glance, the blonde then removing the clamps. You exhaled sharply, the stinging pain spreading through your entire body. Tom then switched positions with Draco again, lifting your chin. “What do you say when we give you something you want?” He murmured, meeting your teary eyes. “T-Thank you!” You sobbed, relaxing your head on the blonde, closing your eyes.

“Come on, open up.” You heard the brunette say, your eyelids fluttering open. Reluctantly, you did, and he let you adjust to him before setting a steady pace. Surprisingly, he didn’t go as rough as Draco, yet still pushing your limits. “Look at this. Fucking soaking my cock, you filthy whore. Always so damn messy.” His words made your mind reel, solely focusing on pleasuring him. Tom soon pulled out with a grunt, a string of saliva connecting your lips to his throbbing dick.

“Listen to me.” Draco started.

You hummed in agreement, exhaustedly kneeling on the floor.

“If you behave well for the next step, you are done, alright?” You nodded. “Okay.”

Tom then repositioned you, ass up face down, arching your back. Your head rested on Draco’s lap, who sat down. “Going to fill two of your holes now. I expect you to behave and take it, or we will be here for a much longer. Got it?” The brunette explained, slowly sliding his cock through your folds, gathering the slick that had leaked from your sopping cunt. You were shivering in anticipation, eager to finally have him inside of you.

Slap.

You flinched, apologizing right away. “M’ sorry! Yes, I understand.” Their smacks were quite unforgiving.

“Better.”

Steadily, he pushed into your tight heat, stretching you out completely. While it hurt just a bit, pain soon turned into pleasure, feeling every single vein on his cock while it slammed in and out of your warm cunt. “Fuck, you are so tight and wet. This turns you on? You are pathetic. Fuck- so fucking- pathetic. Our needy whore.” He groaned, thrusting deeper now, his tip kissing your sensitive cervix. You felt your eyes roll back at the intense feeling, fully submitting to it. Draco then grabbed a fistful of your hair, shoving you down on his dick again. “Gonna suck me off while Tom fucks your filthy cunt. Merlin- that throat feels heavenly, so fucking tight.” The blonde hissed, having you choke around him, his fingers tangling in your hair.

It was rough. Intense. Overwhelming. Yet, you couldn’t get enough of them. You loathed loving this- Fuck, you shouldn’t. But damn, you did. Stretching you out so perfectly, degrading you just how you loved it, showing you what it meant to have all their attention you so desperately craved all these years ago. And now you finally had it- with both of them buried deep inside of you.

Barely able to breathe as Draco slipped in and out of your throat, Tom harshly smacked your ass cheeks, encouraging you to take the blonde as deep as you could.

“Fuck- m’ gonna come. Take it- take it all, whore. Show me how much you want my cum in that dirty mouth of yours.” He pinched your nose, holding your head flush against his lower abdomen as he spilled himself deep down your aching throat, making sure you swallow it all before he released you. Of course you did, greedily even.

As soon as he released you, you gasped for air, sucking in as much oxygen as you possibly could. Wiping your chin, soaked with a mixture of drool and cum with the back of your hand, you met the blonde’s gaze, who grinned sheepishly at you, shaking his head. “Such a filthy girl.”

You managed a sly smile, completely fucked out, inhaling sharply through your mouth.

Now, all you felt was Tom sinking his thick length in and out of you, your vision going blurry as he hit all the right spots inside of you. Soft groans came from behind you as his hips pistoned into yours, making you jolt forward with every thrust – just for him to pull you right back against his cock, having you take him completely. The intensity of his harsh treatment had spill tears, your mascara running down your cheeks. “Fucking keep crying for me, show me how good I am making you feel.” His words sent you spiralling, your walls fluttering around his dick.

“Feel you clenching me. I know how badly you want this, whore. Come on, concentrate. Concentrate and come, come all over this cock and you are done.” He sneered, one hand wandering underneath you to play with your breast.

“I- I can’t come without-“ you cried, your most sensitive spot burning for attention.

“Can’t come without having your needy clit taken care of, huh?” Tom mocked, delivering a harsh smack to your ass. He then grabbed a fistful of your hair, pulling you flush against his chest as he leaned into the side of your neck.

“Too bad, then.”

The brunette let go of your hair again, having you slump forward on the wooden floor with a soft cry.

A few more groans and sharp snaps of his hips and he filled you up, a warm sensation pooling deep inside of you. “Thank- thank you.” You said, wincing as he slowly pulled out of you. You felt sore – basically everywhere. Muscles aching, throat burning – it’s been a rough night. Draco knelt besides you, freeing you from the ropes, as you looked at him intently.

Standing up, saying you would return back to Hogwarts, Tom stopped you.

“Returning to your friends? The Order? Doesn’t seem like they care much about you. Letting you leave at night to follow two alleged Death Eaters all by yourself. Sounds more like they want you to die.”

“But you promised-“

“Who do you fucking belong to?” “Huh?” Slap. “Who?” Slap. “Tell me, who is it?” Slap.

“You, I belong to you!” You cried, a sharp pain radiating from your cheek, a red handprint visible on your delicate skin.

“That’s right, doll. No more contact with the Order from this day on. You are staying with us, here. I forbid you to go back.”

You opened your mouth to complain, yell at them, whatever. Again, the brunette interrupted you.

“Besides, you aren’t done yet.”

Your heart dropped. “I c-can’t anymore, please.”

He shook his head. “It doesn’t involve Draco or me directly. Come here.”

Though completely drained, you still followed his command. He guided you towards him, having you hover over- his boot?

“You have three minutes to make yourself come on my boot. If you can’t do it, no orgasm for you tonight.”

It was so wrong. So humiliating in a way. Yet, you took the offer.

Sitting down on his boot, you eagerly ground on it, holding onto Tom’s calves for leverage. He didn’t do anything – only watch you hungrily. And you tried – tried so hard to finish. But you were tired, your muscles not wanting to cooperate with you. As soon as you felt a little spark forming in your lower stomach, you held onto it, concentrating solely on the rough material rubbing against your puffy clit. It grew, and grew, and grew – and when it was time to release the pent-up desire and need to reach your own climax, the brunette pulled you off his boot.

“Three minutes are over.”

There was that arrogant smirk you hated so much again. You could have killed him right there. “You can’t be serious! I was so close!” You complained. Though, the only thing he seemed to care about was the mess you had left behind his footwear.

“What a pathetic slut you are. Look at the fucking mess you made.” His rough hands met the back of your head, pushing your face down onto the black leather, which was all sticky with your mixed juices, left from your desperate attempt to make yourself come. “Lick them clean. All nice and shiny just like they were before you decided to make them filthy.” Tom spat, looking down at you, grinning at your spent form.

There was absolutely no way you would do that. “Keep dreaming, Riddle.”

He scoffed, amused, shaking his head. Confused by the sudden change in demeanor, you must have stared at him for too long. It changed into something hard, unreadable again.

“You are staying.”

“I am sorry for spying but please-“ your voice cracked, a fresh tear running down your cheek.

“We don’t care about that. But you have to stay. It’s important.” Draco added, putting a towel on the drawer. They both got dressed as you sat there, still naked.

“Take a shower, get warm. The cabin is warded, you won't be able to exit is without any of us accompanying you. No complaining.” The brunette stated, closing his coat, Death Eater Mask in his hand.

“Where are you going?” You asked, following them.

“Death Eater business.” They both answered, like it was the most normal thing in the world.

“You can’t just-“

Draco was first to kiss your forehead, walking out of the door, putting on the mask. Tom followed, tenderly placing another kiss on your skin. He as well exited, not looking back to you as they disapparated.

“Come back! You can’t leave me here!” You yelled, crying. It was true what they said, the door wouldn’t even budge, windows sealed shut.

But why did the sudden affection? Why did their behaviour change so abruptly? It all confused you. Deciding to make the best of the situation you took a shower, rubbing shampoo in your scalp and massaging scented oil into your sore muscles.

They even left you some clothes to wear.

By that, you realized had planned to keep you all along, never intending to let you go.

You were on your own, in the fangs of Death Eaters.

You and your stupid curiosity.

This ending calls for a part two, doesn’t it?

[inky-duchess]

Fantasy Guide to Ambassadors

How do different kingdoms negotiate when there aren't any phones or Microsoft Teams available? How can one government let another government how they feel? How can one monarch deliver an insult or compliment to another? Ambassadors, of course.

The Role of Ambassadors

Ambassadors are representatives of a government or monarchy who live in another country and communicates with their host nation on behalf of their own country. Ambassadors are there to make sure that their country's needs are met and that their host nation remains a friend - or at least they are there to remind the host nation of why it's a good idea to be friends.

Ambassadors tend to act as eyes and ears of their government/monarch, reporting back on all the goings on in the country they have been assigned. They can tell their boss the local tea, what the political climate of their host nation, who meets with the head of state and who doesn't. The Ambassador is there to pass on messages from their master and receive messages directly from the opposing head of state.

How to Ambassador Successfully & Not Start a War

The Ambassador must at all times be respectful toward their host nation. They must abide by their customs, behave themselves, act always in a professional manner and guard the information they handle with care and their lives. Ambassadors are welcomed into the country with a private audience with the head of state, wherein their references are accepted and their role is formally acknowledged. After this, they may only approach the government or monarch by appointment or after being summoned. Their boss would communicate their wishes and words to them and it would be up to the Ambassador to pass these things along, albeit more skillfully and more diplomatically.

The Perks of Being an Ambassador

Ambassadors can live at an official residence called an embassy like today or they can reside at court. They can take their families with them if they choose and are usually paid to establish a good sized household. Ambassadors are usually rewarded with honours and titles, if they are successful in their post or after a long posting. Ambassadors can also be awarded orders and honours by their host, along with places of honour for their family if they reside within them.

Ambassadors are usually welcomed and treated with great respect (if their country is an enemy, they are still treated well in hopes that things don't esculate). Ambassadors are invited to most important gatherings, included in the celebrations at court and spend much of their time at society events (i.e. intelligence gathering). Ambassadors can also get rich on their work, they could sell out their country's secrets to their host nation or even accept bribes to pass on false information to the boss.

The Downsides of Being an Ambassador

Ambassadors do have to leave their homeland for their job, this can mean a long posting away from family and from their own people. Ambassadors can be blamed for rifts or bungled international relations. They may even be accused of taking bribes or being corrupted. Ambassadors could also face being spied on, particularly in a nation that is hostile to their nation. Ambassadors can also be the target of violence from their country's enemies or the focus of emnity by the host nation itself. Very often in times of war of political turmoil, an Ambassador can be expelled from the country. When you're the symbol of a nation and you're in reach of enemies, you are in considerable danger (though it's not recommended to kill an ambassador, it's sort of against the rules).

Who can be an Ambassador?

Ambassadors are usually found amongst the nobility or within government. They are usually chosen by:

Pedigree: The better kind of person you send would mean a bigger compliment to the people the country want to make an ally. Sending a Duke would be a great compliment while sending a simple government official might be seen as an insult. To offer somebody high-ranking is to signal you trust the nation.

Skills: Communication skills are key. Knowledge of the languages and customs of the nation are required. Any ability for espionage, good social skills and a likeabilty would be recommended too.

Political Affiliation: Ambassadors are mouthpieces for their masters. It is generally smart to chose somebody who shares or endorses your view on politics. For example, you wouldn't send an Ambassador hungry for war to a nation you want to make peace with.

Loyalty and Uncorruptability: If you're picking somebody to speak for you and handle very sensitive information, you will chose somebody loyal to you and somebody you trust not to be led astray by the other nation or spies.

[evermount]

Evermount is a dystopian IF that takes inspiration from movies like "Don't Worry, Darling" and "Maze Runner." (18+)

Every day's the same: you wake up, you brush your teeth, you step into the shower, you get out, you make breakfast, you clean, as a homemaker does, and then, at exactly 12.10—not a second earlier or later—there's a knock. You then step out of the house and into the streets: the Mingle.

It's compulsory.

It only happens in pairs—everyone has a designated friend. And you're no stranger; you have one too—you are one too.

You walk, you talk, and you spend the majority of the day together—two hours minimum outside, gazing at the endless rows of pale houses in the neighbourhood; for the rest of the time, before it's time to prep dinner, you're free to do as you please with your friend.

That's Evermount.

Blue-suited guards stand in every corner, but they're no threat—you're under threat. And this is how you keep safe. It's necessary; the council said so themselves. Under no circumstances shall Evermount be left, ever. So, no one has, and no one intends to.

Why would you? It's peaceful—you're at peace. You have your spouse, and you have your house; everyone's happy. This is all you've ever known.

The Spouse [f/m] | Enemies to lovers

Every day at 7:00, you wake up, arrange breakfast on the table, wrap up the leftover dinner, and position yourself on the front porch, holding their lunch bag against your chest. The kiss is so swift that you hardly process it, and then they're gone. You wave, with a smile on your face, as you watch their car merge into a stream of Chevrolet Bel Airs—supplied by the council—all heading to work. In the evening, you share dinner, in silence. They don't talk much—only when there's company. Sometimes, it feels like you don't even know them.

The Officer [f/m] | Friends to lovers

Their eyes scanned yours, filled with concern. A deep crease cut straight through the centre of their brow, marring their otherwise smooth face. Their lips moved hastily, and they clutched your hand, but you felt yourself slipping away, slowly. "I promise, we'll find you." Those words are so strange, you recall them, every day. But that's all. You don't remember the date, the time, or why. A figment of your imagination, maybe? You see them in your dreams. Yet you don't know who they are—if they even exist.

The Voice [f/m] | ???

You're. Not. Crazy. But someone who isn't you speaks inside your head. To you. They'd lock you up for that. Take you somewhere far away. But you feel the exact same—you're no danger. So, you don't tell. You just keep acting as you are.

The Friend [f/m] | Forbidden romance  (relationship history can be an affair)

Your partner in crime, as some might say. They're your friend—you've been assigned since the beginning. But they were already living here, long before you and your spouse moved into the neighbourhood, before you two were assigned together. They talk a lot, more than your spouse. They like you, and you like them. That's what friends are supposed to do; that's what the Mingle is for—it's bad to feel alone, and the council doesn't want that.

The Council Member [f/m] | Forbidden romance

"Don't trust them," the voice warns. Your eyes narrow at them; the area under their eyes is hollow, worn, riddled with fine lines. They expel an exhausted breath and reposition the tie that's wrapped around their neck, way too tight. They look the part. They look like everyone else in Evermount, yet they're not: they're in the council, they're above you.

DEMO (TBD) 𖤓 INTROS

reblogs are appreciated!

[violenteconomics]

I am in dire need of more of that AU that The First years get The upperclassmen toxic traits,i realy want more of It,like;

A way to include octavinelle and scarabia,maybe like,3 First years(Ace,deuce,Jack) get some of azul's toxic traits,other Three(epel,ortho and sebek) get Jamil toxic traits and yuu get both

Second thing

More reactings please,i NEED The staff,ALL The dorms and even the relatives seeing The First years developing those toxic traits,the overblots+Trey and cater for deuce getting their toxic traits right back at their face i beg you🙏🙏

anything 4 u, baby.

(but for real, though, this is an AMAZING idea, love you so much for tilling the ground for my brainwormies, mwah mwah 😘)

(also, this might get REALLY long, so hang tight!)

it was just a seed at first — a tiny idea that stuck around despite the first-years not even realizing it was there. but as the poison from their actual housewardens starts to develop into something truly deadly, so does that seed. it shows up later... but it makes itself known nevertheless.

ace, deuce, and jack have all worked for azul at the mostro lounge at one point, and though it was a very brief moment in time, it was just long enough to worm its way into their heads.

it starts with ace trappola, who's already pretty slippery with his words. but working at the mostro lounge, taking subconscious note of all the underhanded deals azul is making, he starts to pick up new... skills, let's say.

it starts small, with ace starting to give out certain favors to his fellow freshmen to earn some money. if you give him ten thaumarks, he'll do one of your everyday chores for you — dusting your room, cleaning your bathroom, making dinner, what have you. if you give him fifteen thaumarks, he'll do your homework if you don't feel like doing it, or take class notes for you if you don't feel like showing up. if you give him forty, he'll help you with something less-than-moral and definitely against the rules (he did it once back at the atlantica memorial museum — he can do it again).

there's an obvious power imbalance in all of these scenarios, but ace effortlessly words in a way that makes it seem like it's a win-win situation, when in reality, it's more like a zero-sum game.

it gets to the point where ace builds a black-market sort of reputation, and all of the freshmen know that if you need something done, ace is the person to go to.

...but then, something shifts.

at some point, ace starts a black-mailing campaign for the people who paid for the forty-thaumark favor. if you don't want your secret — one that might get you expelled, suspended, or worse — getting out, then you can pay for ace's silence with a favor or more money.

the worst part is: there's no way out. if you try attacking ace, it'll seem like you assaulted him for no reason, since if you try to explain he was blackmailing you, you'll have to tell them what he was blackmailing you with, which you obviously can't do — or else what was even the point? the same rule applies if you try tattling on him to one of the teachers or the housewardens or anybody else. and ace is a better liar than most people will ever be in their lifetime, so it's a losing battle even if you do manage to get someone to take your side.

so if you want to cross the bridge, my sweet, you've got to pay the toll.

(it's not even about the money anymore, really. riddle's thirst for control and azul's desire for recognition have clashed inside of ace in the most violent way, and now, it's all about the power it gives him over other people. and after how powerless he's felt this entire school year, being thrown left and right by overblot after overblot with no say at all, this is a power trip he never wants to come back down from.)

but ace realizes he's making quite a few enemies with his little money-making strategy, and he needs someone to help him just in case someone does come up with a plan to wipe him out. i mean, just look at azul — even with all of the loopholes and leverages in the world, even he was taken down eventually without outside help. if he wants this to last as long as possible, he needs... incentive for people to listen to him.

his own jade and floyd.

his own red-and-black collar.

using his riddle rosehearts-born dominance, and taking advantage of deuce's trey-and-cater-born passiveness, ace convinces deuce spade — one of the strongest people he knows — to help him in his economic ventures.

and deuce, seeing this as a way for ace to vent some frustration and unwilling to be on the other end of ace's ire, hesitantly agrees.

he doesn't piece together that ace is acting suspiciously like azul, but he still recognizes his own role in this whole scheme. ace is running a business, right? and deuce has only ever worked in one business before. he remembers what jade and floyd were like back when he worked under them, and so he uses that experience to inform his new position.

deuce becomes known as ace's right-hand man. he'll hunt you down if you don't pay, and he's not afraid to use force to "compel" you to. there have been stories about cat beastmen getting thrown up into trees and being left there for hours. about students getting forks "accidentally" thrown at them in the cafeteria with such precision, it doesn't really feel like an accident. about a student with a spade on his face who can throw back any attack sent his way with just as much force.

and there's nothing you can do about it, because he's in service to someone who has made himself pretty powerful. ace's silver-tongue gets deuce out of any and all trouble he inevitably finds himself in — and is ace is so brutally honest, why wouldn't people believe him? so even if you try to do something to deuce, ace has his back no matter what — and he'll win almost every time.

you mess with deuce, you mess with ace, which is already bad enough. but if you fuck around with ace, you better be prepared to find out with deuce.

they're a pair — that's always been true. but never before has that fact been so threatening.

jack howl comes next. we all know how much jack despises octavinelle's business model. but, begrudgingly, he will admit there are a lot of things he can learn from octavinelle. and more knowledge is never bad. as long as he doesn't actually use it, it should be fine.

(jack is more dangerous than ace and deuce, in a way — his toxicity is insidious in a way it just couldn't ever be with them.)

with excellent hearing, eyesight, and memory, he silently keeps note of every bribe he hears being taken. every lie he knows is being told. every mistake that gets swept under the rug. it's not long before he starts actively looking for it. it's not long before jack's uncovered dirt on almost every freshmen in school. it reminds him a bit of his time working at the mostro lounge. but instead of memorizing orders from customers, he's memorizing all their dirty secrets.

it's to protect himself, jack reasons. after all, it was only his input that put a stop to leona and ruggie's plans back during the spelldrive exhibition. he's just... preparing for another disastrous event, that's all. it's just precaution. insurance.

if it's not, then he'll have to accept that leona's overblot bothered him more than he thought. that he was weak enough to let it.

(and jack can't face that yet.)

and if, once in a while, ace comes to him looking for a little bit of information, then well, that's just lending a friend some advice. nothing wrong with that.

epel, ortho, and sebek don't have any direct ties to jamil, but they are certainly... impressionable, aren't they?

sebek zigvolt is a bit dense, certainly, but even he can see how well jamil takes care of his master. and with a master that's as ditzy and forgetful and all-over-the-place as kalim, that can't be easy. even if they are merely humans, and their experiences can't even begin to compare when it comes to serving a fae prince, sebek reckons that he can learn a thing or two by observing them. so that's exactly what he does.

one day, when kalim spills food on the floor in a hilariously ridiculous move, sebek notices something few others ever would. jamil gives the tiniest twitch of annoyance — the same way silver, in all his stoicism, often does when sebek gets too loud — but then he's back to being perfectly dutiful and polite and says "i'll go get a napkin."

it's... admirable, honestly. sebek doesn't put it into practice right away, but it stays in his mind long after he first sees it.

and then, after malleus's overblot, sebek's emotions feel like they're on fire. after being stuck in a world where it took just the tiniest crack to shatter a perfect illusion, he's wary of nearly everything that disrupts his day. now every single slight against him, no matter how unintentional it may be, feels like a personal attack on his very life. but sebek can't show these ugly emotions so outwardly — that would be dishonorable behavior that could damage malleus's reputation. instead, he resorts to subtle methods that can't be easily traced back to him like putting in frogs in schoolbags and setting brooms on fire or replacing shampoo bottles with tar.

but his repressed feelings of anger start to build to the point where he's now feeling unprecedented resentment towards... well, almost everybody.

when sebek has very first negative thought about malleus in history class — "reckless bastard" — he instantly hates himself for it and throws up then and there because how dare he.

he tries to shut them out, but the more he does, the more these intrusive thoughts start to bombard him with their uncharacteristic cynicism.

he looks at lilia from across the breakfast table, and his first thought is: heartless liar.

he spots leona lying in the botanical garden and he thinks: brainless cretin.

he even sees jamil, walking through the halls, and his mind screams: manipulative bitch.

but sebek shoves it all down because he's in no position to say that. it gets to the point where he's walking around as a silent, unfeeling husk, because to be anything else would be like inviting his inner demons to visit him on the outside. he pushes his emotions down as far as they'll go, and that's just going to have to be enough to get him through the day.

ortho shroud begins to follow a similar principle. his idia-inspired pessimism has led ortho to see others as less like people and more like characters. it's easier to think of every school day as a dungeon in an rpg. it's easier to convince himself that the other students are taunting him because they're programmed to be that way than face the reality that they just don't like him.

but the problem with seeing life as a video game is that you start seeing others as just ways to complete your objectives. like npcs or maps.

and when it comes to using people, jamil viper is king. or, for ortho's purposes, the ultimate survival guide.

ortho shapes himself into a model night raven college student — kind, charming, and sweet for the teachers, but just mischievous and rude enough to still fit in with the students.

he goes to housewarden meetings with idia to "gain leadership experience", taking notes and hearing out of every single little idea he can get his hands on (these are the people who have not just survived, but thrived. they must be doing something right). one time, riddle even pats his head and praises him for his proactiveness.

his classmates adore him for always been willing to help and being so calm about even the worst outcomes.

ortho makes himself as available as possible to the rest of ignihyde, brushing off homework or studying to help them with whatever they need — fixing game consoles, wiring in controllers, checking the internet connection, et cetera.

eventually, everyone believes in him almost as fiercely as scarabia believed in jamil, once upon a time.

ortho doesn't like telling all of these lies, but it's necessary to protect himself. it's like grinding to earn coins until you have enough money to buy that special armor in the shopkeeper's store.

...or maybe it's more like those cheesy dress-up flash games ortho used to play all the time — fleshing out the perfect outfit and hairstyle and makeup that'll earn you the most points.

if people feel like they need him, he'll be able to breeze through school without any more problems. he's put the whole system on easy mode! it feels a bit like cheating, almost.

it is like a game, isn't it? it's fun.

(at some point, ortho forgets how to stop.)

as for epel... well, he knows that his sudden snappish behavior towards the other pomefiore students won't go unnoticed for too long. but this is one of his only ways of venting, so he needs it to go under the radar long enough for him to... to squeeze out all of this sudden venom that's built up in him.

epel's not oblivious. he knows how sebek and ortho have changed over the weeks, and he knows why. but epel can't pull off "repressed" like sebek, and neither can he suddenly turn into the best person ever like ortho. but they do have the right idea about taking inspiration from jamil, so epel can fall back on what there is left: gaslighting.

every time kalim blacked out, jamil blamed it on him being sick. every time someone thought kalim was being awfully uncharacteristic, jamil called it a "mood swing". every time someone asked jamil about why kalim was acting so weird, jamil claimed ignorance.

at least, that's what yuu tells epel.

and it's perfect.

so now, every time someone confronts epel about his overly critical behavior, he lies and says he's doing it for their own good. you need pressure to make a diamond, after all. and besides — vil won't settle for anything less than absolutely perfect.

("i'm just trying to catch your mistakes before he does. and i think you and i can both agree that i'm a lot nicer than he is about it.")

every time vil confronts epel about all of the complaints he's been hearing from the other students about how epel's been tearing down their ideas for outfits and hairstyles with no mercy, and disregarding all of their achievements as "not good enough" to be proud over, epel dons a confused face.

("vil, between studying for tests and the crazy physical regiment you have me do, i barely have time for myself. you honestly think i have the energy to criticize other people?")

epel even starts turning people against each other so they won't focus on him. epel subtly threatens to take away the upperclassmen's position in the hierarchy, which sets up the other underclassmen as a threat, and epel grouses to the underclassmen that the upperclassmen look down on them for not living up to pomefiore standards, under the guise of regular teenage bitching.

but all of this, combined with their self-entitlement, leads to a mini-war in pomefiore. but since this is, well, pomefiore, where being perfect and poised is the standard, the others make sure never make it obvious in front of vil or rook.

epel plays everybody like a fiddle, and ensures that none of it can be traced back to him. it's a good way to get out his frustration. and hey — it seems like everybody's upped their game along the way. vil seems pretty happy that everybody's improving in their efforts so greatly, practically overnight!

epel wakes up with a feeling of accomplishment everyday. for once, it seems he did something right.

now if only rook could stop looking so somber...

then we come to yuu, whose inner darkness has been left to fester all year. if people think they can treat them like a ragdoll, it's only fair they do the same.

there's a lot yuu doesn't have, but one thing they're really lacking is a bit of respect. that's what it means to be magicless in an arcane academy. you're at the bottom of the food chain.

and look at what a bit of self-interest can do for you! yuu studies in the library until late into the night, burning the metaphorical candle at both ends, learning everything they can about magic until they're more well-versed in it than most students in the school. yuu starts making potions that aren't nearly as good as azul's, but they're cheap and work well enough. they start making study guides for others with their new-found knowledge, even if they do bristle with the fact that a damned study guide is what caught them in azul's tentacles in the first place. they start learning anything and everything, clinging to whatever scraps of knowledge they can write down.

with this, they successfully make their case for why they should join ace and deuce's business. eventually, they're just as feared as they are among the other first-years.

but that's not enough for yuu. the power of fear is nice, but the power of controlling other people would be much more cathartic.

so that's what they do. while ace is more focused on monetary gain, yuu uses their mountains of blackmail to convince others to do whatever they want.

if crowley throws another ridiculous task at them, yuu simply hoists it off to somebody else to do. if ramshackle dorm needs a few repairs, it's only a matter of contacting a few people before a whole construction crew paid off by somebody else comes knocking at their door. and they'll do it, if they don't want to get kicked out of the school or have their reputation ruined.

but somehow, even with all of this, yuu sets themself up as the nicest out of their little trio. they're willing to let payments slide from time to time. they listen to their clients' problems. they take constructive criticism and always seem to improve in their potions and study guides based on feedback. and if you do do yuu a favor, they'll give you certain favors right back.

so even when yuu is a covetous, greedy, all-consuming shark, the students still think they're so very, very nice. because compared to ace and deuce, what else is there to think?

but this can only go on for so long. and yuu knows that.

one day, they get called to the headmage's office. yuu is already going through their contact list — a list that's quadrupled ever since they joined forces with ace and deuce — to see who'd be willing to do them a teensy little favor for them, but when they step through the door, they pause.

inside the office are all the housewardens, their vices, the teachers, and everybody else yuu has grown to know over the past year.

yuu narrows their eyes as riddle steps forward.

"yuu," riddle starts sternly, "from one housewarden to another, i believe we need to talk."

^

(i will address everyone's reactions in a reblog, because this is honestly getting really, really long, lol. but don't worry, the reactions are coming! 🥺)

(but i should mention that there is already a good reblog of the original post by @thenumberhuntress which addresses the upperclassmen's reactions that you can find here. go read it. it's peak.)

(once again, thank you for the great ask! this was fun to make!)