#hex-criminal

[hexcia]

do you think they'll get along

[artficlly]

smog & spirits: spirit-raiser (mini-series)

Gangster/Peaky Blinders Inspired Fantasy AU

gangsterboss!bucky x witch!reader Bucky Barnes, the leader of Sootstone's Smog Boys, needs a favour. A nasty curse has been cast on him, and you are the witch he has chosen to help him break it.

Warnings: 18+ content minors dni, smut, fem reader, begging, orgasm denial, fingering, p in v, no aftercare, sex magic, blood magic, potion for arousal, curses and hexes, witchcraft, possession, mediums, if you squint theres some plot, smoking, mention of death/violence/torture, mention of police brutality, vaguely british setting??, no use of y/n, lmk if i've missed anything

Word Count: 8k

A/N: hey. don't ask. this idea came to me a few days ago and i wrote it all out in like two sessions at 2am. i want to write more for this, i have so many ideas for some more one-shot style interactions. this just got so long so quickly so i had to cut some stuff. sorry for any typos - not proof read and edited while half asleep lol.

main masterlist | series masterlist

You did not remember leaving your door unlocked. 

The fog that settled over the smokey, portside district of Sootstone was suffocating. Despite it being only midday, the entire neighbourhood was cast into a muggy gloom. The sun could not break through the thick smog that comfortably nestled itself along the windy streets of The Warrens. The stench of smoke and fish hung heavy in the air, with sweaty dockworkers and dirty children darting between alleys. In your short journey to and from the small Sunday market, you had nearly been bowled over thrice by oblivious residents. 

The Warrens, or Sootstone Port, as it was formally known, was not a pleasant place. Home to the working class and the rotted underbelly of the city of Blackstone. The high society chatters liked to forget such a place existed, as it was simply not a charming place to think about. Most worked the ports, ferrying in the sea trade. Others worked in the Smokestack district, manufacturing metal in factories that pumped ash and soot into the air. There were also the select few who turned to other trades, such as pubs, hotels, brothels, or even those who were forced into a life of joblessness on the streets. 

The Warrens weren’t so imaginatively named. It was a clever joke among high-society gossipers that the poor fucked like rabbits and lived in their elaborate winding burrows, from which they rarely emerged for air. The people of Sootstone had accepted the insult, finding the whole metaphor rather hilarious. That was because the Warreners could take a joke, unlike the condescending crowd of high society. It could also be argued that the residents of The Warrens could not come up with a better metaphor, as most were not educated in any sense. 

Perhaps the mixture of smog and that lack of an education had finally made it to your head. You were left standing, perplexed, as your front door swung open without so much of a nudge. The lock was normally a sticky one, leaving you to jiggle the knob and slam your shoulder against the frame until it came unstuck. Never in your two years of living in the tiny flat had you ever witnessed such a sight. 

You would’ve thought it a miracle if it weren’t for the implications. 

It was true that The Warrens were notorious for crimes. Theft, assault, and murder. Even if coppers paraded the streets, they weren’t truly there to stop criminals. No, they were more interested in beating any poor innocents that got in their way. It was better to find protection from vigilante gangs who roamed Sootstone’s streets, scrapping like stray dogs over territories. As much as those uninvolved in such business were afraid of them, they also respected them. Their deeds weren’t always motivated by blood and destruction; the gangs stood to protect their communities as no one else would. 

Even if you and your surrounding neighbours were under the protection of Barnes’ Smog Boys, it was definitely still alarming to see a group of them gathered in your small kitchen. 

“Lookie who's home.” One of the men cooed at the sight of you. He stood closest to the door, one hand tucked in his jacket pocket while the other fiddled with a toothpick that hung from his lips. His blond hair was slicked back, tucked under a flatcap. Steve Rogers. The Smog Boys right hand man. Next to him was Sam Wilson, his stocky form leaning against your rickety cupboards. His gaze was fixed on a silver pocket watch he had tightly secured in his left palm, a short chain draping across his vest. He glanced up at Steve’s words, a wicked smirk crossing his lips at the sight of you. 

“Sunday market?” Sam queried, and you drew your woven basket closer. There was an unsettling sneer in his voice. 

The Smog Boys were one of seven gangs that roamed the underbelly of Blackstone. Their territories lay in the fog of Sootstone Port and the smokey streets of the Smokestack district and The Warrens. You could commonly see them stalking the streets, dressed in all black with their flatcaps and slicked back hair. They moved through the smog like ghosts, navigating the twisting streets with an unnatural ease. Some called them ghouls; others called them saviours from the fog. 

The final man, the worst of them all, was Bucky Barnes. He sat across from you, half obscured by your small dining table. He had laid a box of cigarettes and matches on the marked wood. One was smoking between his lips, his head angled down and cocked to one side, as he assessed you with a look of boredom. There was a terrifying edge of calculation in his gaze as he evaluated you. He was just as large as the other two men, with muscles poorly hidden beneath his black, tailored suit. His hair, similarly to Steve's, was slicked back, and the sides buzzed. A 5’oclock shadow ghosted his jawline, but overall, his appearance was unsettlingly neat. 

Not a speck of ash or soot. As if he had just appeared within your flat, blinking into existence rather than having walked The Warrens like any other mere mortal. 

You had never seen the man in person. No. If the Smog Boys were ghosts, Bucky certainly lived up to the name. He was an enigma, a haunting story whispered between children. He had clawed his way up to a position of power from the gutters of The Warrens, bloodshed and all. He was a notorious skirt-chaser, his handsome appearance and strong build drawing in women from all classes. Looking at him now, despite the terror congealing in your blood, you could understand the appeal. 

“Why’re you here?” You ask hesitantly. Unlike the gangsters before you, you were not pristine by any means. Falling ash had coated your shoulders, staining the tartan fabric of the mantle draped over your shoulders. Your hair was swept up under a head scarf, which was also covered in a layer of soot and dust from the smokestacks. Even your worn leather boots were not safe; mud and filth caked onto the heels and sides. The streets of The Warren had never known any type of cleanliness. 

“Come to introduce ourselves. Don’t think we’ve ever met before, ‘least I think I would’ave remembered a pretty face like yours.” Steve speaks up, a gleam in his eye. His tone is playful yet somehow cruel. The chuckle he and Sam share rattles you. The two of them were also said to try their luck with the women who crowded around, searching for the thrill of a gangster lover.

“You might’ave mistaken me for someone else… I’ve lived here two years now.” You speak with a continued caution. With precise movements, as to not brush either of the hulking men crowding the kitchen entrance, you place your basket on a nearby surface. Even the cloth that you have thrown over the items is coated in a layer of ash. 

“We know.” Sam says, twisting his body. He lifts up the cloth, inspecting the food beneath. You know it is nothing exciting—some bread, fish, and vegetables. As well as a handful of sweets you gave to the children of your neighbour. You keep your mouth shut as Sam dips into the white and red striped paper bag and pops one of the sweets into his mouth with a satisfied hum. 

Steve pushes himself off the wall, his jacket brushing against you. He was far taller than you, tall enough that he had to crane his neck down in order to whisper in your ear. “A lil’ birdy told us you’re a spirit-raiser.” 

“I—No.” You stumble over your words, eyes darting between the three men. Bucky is still silent, still like a cat hunting a mouse. The gaze he assessed you with was one of a predator, taking a slow drag from his cigarette. He doesn’t crack a smile as the two men beside you laugh between themselves. 

To fend off some anxious energy, you make quick work of unknotting your headscarf. Ash and dust flutter to the ground as you shake out the fabric, a frown etched across your features. You could not help but let your mind wonder to the stories you had heard growing up. You were a lifelong resident of The Warrens, only moving to live on your own after sickness claimed your mother. You father had passed long before that, lost to drink. 

“What do you call yourself then? Hm?” Steve asks, breath hot against your cheek. You flinch as he pulls a fleck of ash from your hair. In the stories, they would speak of men with their tongues cut out. Bodies that were filled with bricks, then stitched back up and sunk to the bottom of the Sootstone Port. Men were found hanged from street lights, severely beaten, with sections of skin along their thighs and chest peeled off with a blade. And those were only the bodies coppers found. 

“I prefer witch.” You correct, brows furrowing. Your head turns to look at the gangster, wary of how close his fingers lingered. Teeth bared in a grin, he blows a soft breath across your hair, the last of the ash unsettled as it floats away. You can smell tobacco on his breath—a familiar scent to you.

“I need a favour.” Bucky finally speaks up, his voice low. Your gaze snaps to meet his. 

You blink. “A favour?”

You jump as Bucky finally moves, his foot jerking as he kicks the seat opposite him. The chair scrapes across the hardwood floors, stopping centimetres before your boots. 

“Sit.” He commands. 

Sam’s hand finds the back of your neck, a soft push guiding you in the direction of the free space. You obey, your knee bouncing as you take a seat. You sit near the edge of the chair, leaving some distance between yourself and the table. As if sensing your desire to bolt, Steve sweeps up behind you, pushing the chair in until you are fully tucked in. Then, with mocking laughter, Sam and Steve take a seat on either side of you. 

“No one told me there was any issue about magic—” You begin. Steve snickers beside you, returning to fiddling with the toothpick still poking from his mouth. 

“A favour.” Bucky repeats, exhaling smoke from his nose. Sam leans back in his seat, legs spread so widely that his knee touches yours. You shrink back as far as possible. “I’m no copper. I don’t care what you practitioners get up to.”

You find yourself blinking in surprise once more. Magic was a subject that divided many, mostly due to it’s misunderstood nature. High society treated magic as another lavish hobby or skill, with some even going to private schools to turn their gifts into professions with the right licences. Of course, the people of the lower-class were banned from performing such tricks unless they were in possession of the right permits. Due to the nature of the slums being, well, impoverished, unlicensed magic ran rampant through the streets. It wasn’t uncommon knowledge that an entire blackmarket of forbidden arts ran in the backalleys and warehouses of The Warren. Places where those needing particular services could find them for a much more convenient price than in the higherclass areas of Blackstone. 

You had kept your services rather secretive, never using your real identity with clients. It was a precaution to not have coppers knocking down your door in the middle of the night. It seemed, despite your best efforts, that nothing flew past Bucky Barnes. But then again, nothing seemed to fly past the gangster. He knew of every black market and every whisper of illegal activity in the slums. It would be foolish to believe he was unaware of you; however, why did he specifically sort you out? Now that was a mystery. 

“I don’t understand—” You choke out, head whipping back and forth as you look between the men. 

Bucky sighs loudly in annoyance, loud enough that you flinch back. He puts out the remains of his cigarette on your dining table, the smouldering dip leaving a black, circular mark on the wood. He digs into one of the pockets of his vest, revealing a large pendant necklace. The chain is silver, with an oval shaped jewel hanging from the centre. The silver that encrusts it in place is swirled, ensuring there are no gaps for it to escape. Sam and Steve fall quiet, any feeling of twisted amusement dropping from the room. Bucky slides the necklace across the table.

You recoil. This time not out of fear, but rather from the aura the necklace exudes. 

Goosebumps rise across your skin, and bile rises in your throat. There was a wickedness in the air, as if all the light and sweetness in the world were sucked into an empty, yawning void. The world feels still, as if even the ash outside has failed to fall. The room is cast into a sickening silence, a silence so strong that even the surrounding world refuses to push through. You can no longer hear the people walking through the winding streets of The Warren, not the clang of metal from the smokestacks or the cry of the dockworkers. 

Rot. 

It is the only word that comes to your mind. It is as if the jewel itself is rotten, potent, and putrid. An invisible smell so strong you nearly gag. Your skin crawls the longer you stare, as if you rot along with it—bugs squirming beneath your flesh, the taste of dirt in your mouth.  

“What’s this?” You asked, your voice strained. You know the blood has drained from your face. Bucky looks at you with curiosity. 

“You tell me.”

You look down at the necklace. Dread rises once more, and the chill of soil settles across your shoulders. You twist your head and your neck, feeling uncomfortable and strained the longer you gaze upon the necklace. 

There was something terribly, terribly wrong about it. 

“There’s a… a sickness… a rot—a curse.” You stumble over your words, your entire body squirming against your will. The feeling of dread swims through you; the sensation that you need to get as far away as possible reverberates down your spine. 

“Becca was right.” Steve sings somewhere besides you, but you barely register his words. 

“Where’d you find this?” You ask. The room is tighter than usual, with the rickety, peeling cabinets closing in around you. The oven screeches on its iron legs, the yellowed wallpaper crushing closer and closer. Your head falls into your hands, elbows propped onto the table. You let out a shuddering breath, trying to rid yourself of the sickly feeling. You rub your fingers up your face, pinching the bridge of your nose, then massaging your forehead

“It was given to me. As a gift.” As he speaks, you reluctantly open your eyes once more. The room has returned to as you remember, your vision less dizzying as you take in a deep gulp of air, your heart thundering in your ears. You must make a face, because it prompts him to speak once more. 

“My sister has a sensitivity. She is convinced—”

“There’s a spirit attached to that jewel.” You interrupt before thinking. Your knees bounce beneath the table, your feet shaking. Your entire being screams that you need to get away from the object. You do not care for politeness or fear of these men, as the horror in your heart you felt gazing upon the necklace greatly outweighed any potential anxieties of the future.

“Yes.” His voice matches his composure—cool and collected. Wholly unaffected by the horrific aura cast by the necklace. Bucky and his men were not magically inclined. They were completely oblivious to the calamity that sat before them. 

“The spirits're attached to you, too.” You pause, the feeling of bile rising in your throat once more. “You need to get it lifted.”

“That’s where the favour comes in, doll.”

“I don’t…?” You nearly doubled over. “Please get rid of it. I can’t—”

Barnes leans forward, slowly dragging the necklace over the wood. He slowly deposits it into his breast pocket, watching with curiosity as you sag in relief. You would need to burn this table after they left. You could still sense the rot engrained in the pores of the wood. 

“I need to speak with the spirit attached.”

Your forearms lay flat on the table, and you rest your head against them as you try to remember how to breathe. A wave of exhaustion rolls over you. Was this how they tortured their victims? Wore them down into pathetic, panting messes? Were you about to become another body at the bottom of the Sootstone port? You mumble into the fabric. “I can’t raise a spirit without a name.”

“I know her name.”

You pause, lifting your head slowly. “You want to ask her how to break it? You may know her, but spirits’re tricksters they won’t always give ya the correct information—”

“I know how to deal with her.”

You arch a brow, unsure.

“She’s a scorned lover.” Sam whispers beside you. You jump, having forgotten the two other men sitting besides you. Bucky scowls at his words—the most emotion he has shown in the entire time. 

“Everyone knows you don’t ‘ave a witch for a moll unless you’re gonna marry her.” Steve butts in, and the two men share a chuckle. 

“Shut your mugs. The both of ya.” Bucky snarls, and they both fall silent, although you can’t help but notice their bemused smiles. After a brief, tense silence, the gangster settles back into his seat, tipping his chin upward in a nod. “Morwenna Blackthorn.”

You hesitate, glancing between the three men. They watch you expectantly, relaxing back into their respective seats. Given their status and reputation, you had to presume they were familiar with the workings of underground magic. Licenced practitioners would have clients sign lengthy documents for protection in the event of a spell or session backfiring. The Warrens did not have such luxuries—if you made a mistake, no one could protect you or them from the consequences. 

You inhale sharply, placing your hands palms down on the table. The wood hums beneath your touch, the invisible vapours of the curse tickling your flesh. With a roll of your shoulders, you exhale slowly, allowing your body to relax. 

Ink drips across your vision, swirling darkness millimetres before your eyes. You stare hard into the invisible void, searching blindly through the tendrils of smoke. Morwenna Blackthorn. Morwenna Blackthorn. Morwenna Blackthorn. Your mind hums. Through the dark fog, you can make out figures—flickers of candle flames casting large, distorted shadows. Morwenna Blackthorn. Bones crunch beneath your feet, yet at the same time, you float. Morwenna Blackthorn. Your hands burn into the table, the rotting sensation tangling through your digits, pulling you deeper. 

Morwenna Blackthorn

You can see a thin line of thread hanging through the void. 

Morwenna Blackthorn.

It is red; a series of knots tugged tightly intermittently. 

Morwenna Blackthorn.

Your fingers grasp the fibres gently, your nail hooking around one of the tiny knots. 

You tug.

Morwenna Blackthorn.

A violent, ragged gasp leaves you. It claws up your throat, ripping at the flesh. Your entire body tenses, your spine straightening as your head snaps back. For a moment, you are suspended. You can feel her with you, her ghostly fingers stroking tenderly across your skin. She smooths over the back of your hands, slowly and gradually winding her way up your arms. She clutches your shoulders, her bones digging into your flesh.

Then, with violence strong enough that you fear she has folded your spine in half, she pushes down. 

Your body instantly relaxes, head lulling downward. Your eyes roll into the back of your head, and despite the appearance being a milky white, you can see perfectly clearly. Morwenna has settled herself deep within your bones, controlling your movements like a puppeteer. You are conscious enough to understand what is happening, but you are not in control of your actions or speech.

Your mouth spread into a wide, sly smile. “Bucky, my love.”

“Mor.” The gangster greets, although he does not seem entirely pleased. You pout, leaning your elbows onto the table. 

“Not happy to see me?” You coo. Somewhere beside you, Steve shifts in his seat uncomfortably. It is the most off put you’ve ever seen the man so far. He winces as your head swings around, a wicked grin gracing your lips. “Oh, Stevie and Sam. Didn’t see you two here.”

“Mor.” The two men grumble in unison, scowling. 

“Awh. Why so glum, boys?” You whine, your chair scraping against the floor as you stand. Your movements are fluid and graceful, entirely not your own. Your hands stroke across the back of the chair, then swooshes up to meet your chest. 

You lean forward, tutting as you inspect your reflection in the glass of a nearby cupboard. “Trust you to find a pretty one in The Warrens.” 

Your hands move to unpin your mantle, a cloud of ash lingering in the air as you drop it to the floor. You sigh in relief, your fingers unbuttoning the top of your shirt, revealing the curve of your breasts. Your hands smooth down your waist to your hips; your full figure is now displayed. 

“You missed me that much, my love? That you had to find a pretty vessel for me so you could get your cock wet, hm?” You hum, sashying towards the table once more. 

“That’s not why you’re here.” Bucky replies. He seems frozen in place. The horror of familiarity. Recognising the mannerisms of someone he once knew in a complete stranger. 

You ignore his words, unpinning your hair. Thick locks unroll, cascading down your shoulders and back. You let out an exaggerated, satisfied sigh, rolling your neck. The strands frame your face, and the rich colour brings colour to your cheeks. 

“Morwenna.” Bucky snaps. Your brows furrow as you look over to him, pouting once more. “You put a curse. On the necklace.”

Your mind momentarily blanks, as if Morwenna were trying to recall what he said. Spirits often grew confused trying to recall memories, especially ones that brought them anguish. A cog seems to turn as you flash the gangster another beaming smile. 

“The necklace… oh. Did you like it? My parting gift to you? Before you fucked me over you piece of—” Your voice, once sweet and soft, deepens to a guttural growl. Your body shakes, and words cut off as you cough and hack. Your hand raises to your mouth, warm fluid leaking from your lips. You let in a shuddering breath, rubbing your fingers and palms down your chin. Blood smears across your skin. 

“You shot me, my love.” You gasp, your brows furrowing as your head tilts. “You shot me.”

“You betrayed us, remember? You were a rat—” Steve jumps in, but is quickly cut off. 

“Steve.” Bucky warns.

Your hands find your stomach, doubling over as you sob. There is no wound, no blood. Still, your hands dig at the fabric while ragged, pathetic cries leave your blood stained lips. 

“How do I break the curse?”

You shuddering sobs stop, a dreadful silence falling over the tiny kitchen. A guttural laugh erupts from you, saliva mixed with blood dripping from your lips to the floor. “The curse. The curse? I should have known… I should have known…”

Your body jerks upward, movements stiff, and jerks like a marionette doll. Sam’s face contorts into one of fear, while Steve looks horrified. You jerk forward, nearly tripping over the chair as you plunge towards the table. Your stomach smacks hard against the wood, a winded wheeze escaping your lungs as you drag yourself forward by your nails. 

“Don’t you love me? Don’t you want me?” You cry, your head beginning to twist, the angle so unnatural that it strains your neck. 

“How do I break it?” Bucky repeats, voice firm. He hasn’t so much as flinched, a wall of steel as you crawl towards him. 

“It was born in chaos, so it must be undone in chaos. I will find you. I will tear you limb from limb. I will make you rot from the inside out; maggots will grow within you; and mould will bloom in your soul. Everything will crumble to dust beneath your touch. I will ruin you until you b–b—be—”

Your body slides back, and for the first time in the entire session, you grab the reins. You search blindly for the knotted thread, tugging hard. Your body steps back from the table, muscles spasming and tense as your body locks in place. 

You tug harder, and darkness swims across your vision. Candles flicker and dance in the distance, the sun rising and falling as your body twists up and down. The smell of rot slowly subsides, threads slipping from your fingers. The scent of copper and ash is on your tongue, and your head is pounding. 

A dramatic sigh leaves you as your body slumps. You find yourself standing before the table, three sets of eyes burning into you as your own eyes roll back into place. Sam and Steve look equally disturbed as they are horrified, the blond’s mouth agape in shock. 

“The fuck was that?” Sam barks.

“I ain’t never seen a spirit session like that before, Buck—” Steve begins.

“Shut it.” Bucky barks, rising to his feet. 

There is a sickly feeling in your chest, a radiating pain across your ribcage. You barely register the gangster walking up to you, gripping your chin between his index and thumb. 

“You pulled yourself out early.” Bucky sneers. “Why?”

“Buck—” Steve calls again. With a growl, Bucky releases you, twisting around to snarl at Steve. 

“I thought you told me she was the best in the Warrens?”

“She is. Did’ya not see that shit?”

“She didn’t get me an answer—”

“Chaos magic.” You finally speak up, your voice raspy. The gangsters pause, slowly turning to face you. “She told you. It’s chaos magic. What’s born in chaos must be undone in chaos.”

Your hand raises to your face, your fingertips touching your upperlip as warm blood flows from your nose. You raise your hand into the light, inspecting the crimson liquid. Your eyes cut over to Bucky's, and he frowns. 

“Chaos magic?” He questions. 

“Sex magic.” You state, fighting the heat growing across your cheeks. Without much of a care or a flinch, you navigate your way past the group. Your shirt brushes against Bucky’s jacket, the rotting feeling momentarily settling in your stomach as the fabric brushes his breastpocket. You pause in front of your sink, knuckles white as you grip the lip. Blood continues to stream steadily from your nose, dripping into the basin. 

“You focus your thoughts on one thing; you get pulled into a trance. Take the energy, the chaos, and you focus it. At the peak, picture what you’re manifestin’. The chaos that you’ve built through the act is released at the moment of orgasm.” You explain, your gaze solidly locked onto the blood that swirls down your drain. 

“Sex magic.” Bucky hums in thought.

Steve spoke up from beside him with a snicker. “How poetic.”

—

You hated how your hands shook. If Bucky had noticed, he hadn’t brought it up. He was coolly inspecting your tiny bedroom, hands tucked into his pockets. The room had an eclectic taste, with walls covered in shelving. You collected books, objects, trinkets, or other things that helped your work. Drying herbs hung from your curtain railings, your desk cluttered with papers you had hastily scribbled notes upon. 

You ground your palm harder into the pestle, gritting your teeth as you worked the herbs inside into a fine paste. Your bed, stripped bare, had been pushed to the side of the room. It usually sat near the centre, atop a fraying rug. The rug had also been removed, rolled up, and placed somewhere in your stairway. The old wood beneath had been painted by your hand, with intricate runes, symbols, and swirls making up the general shape of a circle. You had already lined it with black salt, candles burning at each cardinal direction. At the centre of the circle, you had laid your bedding and pillows for comfort. 

Bucky had sent Steve and Sam away, the two men snickering like a pair of school boys. You all knew what was about to unfold; it was just a question of why you had allowed yourself to become tangled up in such a situation. You had done similar rituals for clients before, yes, but none of those clients had been the boss of the Smog Boys. None of them had been Bucky Barnes. 

You eyed him as he paused in front of the carved circle, mindlessly playing with the jewelled necklace that hung from his grip. The awful, dreadful, rotting sensation was dulled; you’d nearly begged the gangster to let you cleanse the object. It was a temporary relief that would wear down in a few hours, but at least you could complete your work without gagging at the feeling of it. You hurriedly poured the thick paste from the herbs into a pot, which boiled in your fireplace. It only took a couple of stirs for the potion to settle. You could feel Bucky’s eyes assessing your every movement as you poured the steaming liquid into two cups, briefly swirling each to ensure the consistency was correct. 

“Remind me what this is.” The gangster asked, closing the distance between you. His nose wrinkled in distaste at the scent. 

“A potion to help with the ritual. Some find it…hard to perform.” You say, wincing as you realise what you implied. Bucky raises a brow as you fumble over your words. “It heightens arousal and pleasure.”

“I won’t find it hard to perform.” He replies curtly. 

“I know. I wasn’t saying that—I just… from experience…” You stumble again. If only you could punch yourself in the face for this idiocy. 

“Relax, doll.” He hums, his hand finding your shoulder. You exhale sharply, lips pressed together, as your shoulders drop in response. “I can find someone else if you don’t want this.”

As much as you hated yourself for admitting it, you did want this. Maybe it was a sick curiosity, wondering if this dangerous yet handsome man could perform as well as you imagined, as well as it was rumoured. You swallow, your mouth feeling dry. “No. I want this.”

“Good.” His hand brushes a loose strand of hair from your face, and his head dips to look at you better. “Honestly, I could fuck you with or without the potion, doll.”

There is a knowing smirk spreading across his face as your mind blanks. Fucking rake. You consider if the fumes from the potion have already leaked their effects onto you both. You can feel a warmth growing between your legs. 

“It’s my job.” You mutter, stepping away. Although you’re unsure if the reassurance is for yourself or for him. His chuckle follows you as you sweep across the room, returning to your small desk. “Do you want me to explain the ritual in detail or just give you the gist of it?”

“Spare the details; just run me through what I need to do.” He responds. He has closed the distance between the both of you again, peering over your shoulder as you fumble through your things. 

“Well, it’s pretty simple.” You sigh, turning around. Your chests are nearly pressed together as you spin. You back up as far as possible, your hands moving behind your back as you grip the edge of the desk to steady yourself. "We’ll have to draw some blood with a blade and put it on the necklace to link it to our energies. It’s sigil magic, nothing you’ll have to worry about. We take the potions…”

You fade off with a shrug. Bucky smirks once more, his chin lifting in amusement, but his gaze remains solidly locked onto you. His hands go to his pockets, and his wide chest blocks your movements. You clear your throat. “The ending is more what you’ll need to focus on. When you reach… climax… you must focus all your energy on the necklace and nothing else. I will be there to guide and remind you, but you can’t let your thoughts stray.”

“What about you? What will you have to think of?” He questions, his voice low. His adams apple bobs as he swallows slowly, his tongue running across his bottom lip in thought. Intriguing question. No one had asked you that before. 

“Doesn’t matter. You’re the only one who needs to orgasm.”

“Why?”

“The curse is linked to you. Only you can break it, with my assistance, of course. I am just here to help guide you and lend you my energy. I am just a conduit for the magic, to focus it.” You explain. Thinking it was best to get it over and done with, you finally pluck up the courage to push past him. 

Your athame was already in place; the candles were lit, salt laid, and sigil memorised. There was only one thing left to do—the act. You crouch down by the fireplace, retrieving the two cups. Bucky gives you an incredulous look. 

“It tastes better than it smells.” You reassure him, handing him the saucer. He inspects the liquid once more, wincing, then shrugging in surprise as he finally downs the lot. You watch with a scrutinising gaze as he places the cup down, rolling his shoulders. 

The potion would take all of five seconds to take affect. It didn’t alter the brain or take away authority; rather, it heightened already present feelings of arousal or pleasure. The user would experience a rather euphoric sensation. Dodgy brothels often microdosed their clients with such herbs to heighten the experience. Also to hook in a new, loyal customer. Used sparingly, the herbs were fine, but they were highly addictive. 

And illegal. Most of your work fell into that category.

Within moments, you could see Bucky’s pupils dilate, his jaw and shoulders relaxing, and his nostrils flaring as he exhaled slowly. His voice was strained as he spoke up, his tone gravelly and low as he cleared his throat in surprise. “Fuck. That does feel good, doesn’t it?”

You smile shyly into your own cup and swallow down the liquid. You were familiar with the taste and it’s effects. It was surprisingly sweet, with a vanilla, nutty aftertaste. As soon as it hit your stomach, you could already feel the warmth growing in your core—a delightful tingling sensation spreading up your spine and skull. 

You were quick to place your cup down and cross the room to retrieve the athame. You had to pin point your actions very directly so as not to get distracted by the hulking man looming in your room. The potion was definitely potent, because any fear or anxiety had left you. Your body begged for him to come closer, to touch you, to kiss you. Not yet. Soon. 

“Come here.” You murmur, drawing the blade from it’s sheath. Bucky obeys, wordlessly stalking towards you and presenting you with his palm. You look up at him through your lashes, gently taking his hand into yours. Your skin sings at the content, a rush of goosebumps raising across your skin. “We don’t need much blood.”

The gangster is still as you drag the blade in a short cut along the heel of his palm. You push into the mound, coaxing out droplets of blood to blister to the surface. “The necklace.”

He lets out a low, agreeable grunt as he hands it to you. The potion has helped you ignore any bad energy attached to the object. Your skin simmers as you brush your finger tips along the cut, gathering Bucky’s blood. You take the jewel, smearing the blood across the slippery surface into one half of a symbol. Bucky watches expectantly as you hastily repeat the process with your own hand, smearing your blood to complete the symbol. 

“You need to wear it.” You hum and guide the chain over his head. You know you should find a bandage or some kind of healing salve for your hands, but your attention is pulled away as Bucky grasps your hand. An involuntary whimper leaves your throat as he raises your palm to his lips, his tongue peaking out as he runs it across the open wound. The potion had definitely taken effect. Holy fuck, your back arches as pleasure shoots down your arm, blooming at the base of your skull. 

His lips kiss along the cut, sucking and licking. Your mind swims from the sensation—ideas of where else he could be putting his mouth to use. You pull your palm away, dragging it across his cheek as you cup his face. A crimson streak is smeared along his skin, and his lips are glossy from saliva and stained with your blood. The two of you clash in desperation, a rumbling groan being pulled from the gangster as his lips engulf yours. 

You can taste copper on his tongue, his hands finding your waist as he pulls you flush against his body. The two of you move in a frantic rhythm, scarcely making room to breathe. You guide him clumsily to the painted circle, the two of you falling to your knees in unison. Blindly, you find his clothing, helping him tug off the jacket and then unbutton his vest. 

His hands slip under your blouse, caressing the skin beneath. His fingers roam to your brassiere, your nipples hardening as he brushes them through the sleek fabric. You mewl into his mouth, squirming under his touch as the pulse between your legs quickens. His large palm comes to rest below your breasts, his thumb sitting on your sternum as he yanks you backwards onto his lap. 

Your lips break, and you gasp for air as the gangster continues his assault down your neck to the exposed skin of your collarbone. His stubble tickles across your neck, and he gathers your skirts, fingers gliding past your stockings to your exposed inner thigh. 

Your head tips backwards to rest on his shoulder, and loud, satisfied sighs leave you. The sensation is near blinding, your body alight with pleasure. Had you accidentally made a stronger dose in your nervousness? You had never yearned in such a way before—

“What’re you doing?” You query with a gasp as his fingers slip beneath your loose tap pants. 

Your question is answered as he strokes a fingertip through your wet folds. 

“You’re so wet.” He hums against your skin, voice strained. You can already feel his erection pressing into you. His grip on you remains firm, your back flush against his chest as he dips two of his fingers into you. Ecstasy fizzles across your skin, nails digging into his skin where you grip his arm. 

“What’re you— I’m supposed to make you—ah!” You whine, your breath coming fast as you lean harder into him. Your hips rock greedily, pushing your pelvis in time with his pumping fingers so the heel of his palm grinds against your clit. 

“Shh, doll. Relax.” He whispers, his tongue licking up the shell of your ear. Your eyes squeeze shut, and your body is locked in place by his grip. His pace increases, and the panting in your ear grows as his two digits glide in and out of your tight cunt. 

“Do you like that?” He groans in your ear. Your grinding hips are now giving friction to his cock, which twitches against your backside through his pants. You whimper in response, a short sob bubbling from your mouth as you clench around him. 

Your head lifts, eyes widening as you look down. You can’t see much due to your skirts, but you can feel the knot tightening within your belly. Your hips move more desperately, needy, pathetic moans escaping you as his pace remains steady. 

“Please—” You beg, squirming as the gangster chuckles. 

“You do like this, huh? Even if you acted like a little innocent virgin earlier.” He growls. The vibration is enough to set you over the edge, a loud cry leaving you as you clench hard around his fingers, body spasming. Bucky continues to steadily pump you through your orgasm. “Good girl.”

A continued arousal stirs in your belly at his praise. Your body slumps against him, panting and exhausted. 

“Such a good girl.” He hums again, his digits slipping out of you. You can feel the sloppy mess between your thighs, and as Bucky pulls his hand into the light, you can see the wet drenching his fingers. “I think I like this version of you. The one who makes pretty little noises while I fuck her brains out, hm?”

You’re left speechless as the gangster lifts his fingers to his lips, sucking them clean with a devilish smirk. 

“Well, time to get this ritual over with then, don’t you think?” He says. You’re too exhausted and drunk on desire to bother replying. You allow him to guide you down, so your head is placed side-ways on one of the pillows. He guides your hips up, your legs slightly spread, and pushes your skirts to your hips. 

“You’ll have to tell me when you’re close, so I can guide you.” You finally muster up the strength to say. The gangster pulls your tap pants down, exposing your cunt fully. 

“Sure thing, doll.” He says in response. You hear the sound of fabric rustling as he pulls out his cock. 

Without much warning, he pushes into you, your arousal making it easy for his member to slide in and out of you. A growl burns in the back of his throat while you wordlessly make a fist around the sheets and blankets beneath you. 

“Fuck. You’re so tight.” Bucky groans, his voice strained. “And to think you’ve been hidin’ out in The Warrens all this time.”

He sinks deeper into you, pulling small whimpers and moans from you as he finds a steady, pleasurable rhythm. His hand slides up your clothed back, pushing you harder into the pillow with a grunt. His other hand finds your hips, his grip bruising as he guides you. 

You bite down into the pillow, your pleasured sobs muffled by the feathers. 

“You squeezed so tightly around my fingers; I can’t wait to see how you’ll feel when you come around my cock.” Bucky grunted as he ploughed into you. His hand fists around your loose hair, fingers tangling through the locks as he tugs. Tears are beginning to prickle in your eyes, and your legs are wobbling from the sensation. 

“Please—” you gasp out. 

“Please, what?” The gangster asks, tugging harder. The hand on your hip is squeezing tighter as he holds you in place. 

“Please—I need to—”

“No.” He growls, tugging you upward. You fall backwards into his lap once more, his cock still inside you but somehow deeper from the angle he holds you. “You need to finish the ritual, remember? I can’t have you guide me if you’re too fucked out to talk.”

Another sob leaves you, but you wordlessly nod. You hold onto the burning sensation in your gut, the waves of satisfaction so immense that your limbs tremble. Bucky continues to fuck up into you, his cock steadily driving into you as his free hand comes to lazily swirl your swollen clit. 

You try to remember words, instructions, anything. You feel too high to even breathe. All you can do is focus on the sensation of the necklace rubbing against your back and the friction burning against your skin. 

“Focus on the necklace. How it feels around your neck.” You squeak out, your eyes squeezed shut, as you try to ground yourself. “Focus on the feeling of the chain, the weight of the jewel. Think of your blood, how a piece of you is painted onto it.”

There is a moment of silence between the two of you, only the slapping of skin and the rasping of breath. 

“Are you focused on it?” You ask.

“Yes.” The gangster cuts back. His strokes were beginning to grow sloppy. 

“Focus.” You whisper, though a breathy moan leaves you. “Feel your energy flow; feel your blood seep into the stone. Picture how it will shatter beneath your power.”

His hips jerk beneath you, his finger on your clit swirling faster. Your breath comes in sharp stutters, your back arching as you find no way to escape the rising sensation. His back is rock solid behind you, his hands keeping you in place as you begin to spiral. Your pussy tightens around him as you begin to scream—

“Please, Bucky. Please!”

Something snaps between the both of you, his hips jerking wildly as he spills into you. He moans into your ear at a deafening level, his fingers digging into your thighs. You double over in pleasure, your vision briefly going black as you cry out. Sparks dance across your skin, your body momentarily alight as the power of magic flows through you. You can feel the rush as your energy meets Bucky’s entangling with one another in a fierce battle. For a second, you feel intoxicated, colours bursting across your sight as the rush of magic rests in your chest, and then, just as quickly as it arrived, it cascades out of you.

Behind you, the sound of shattering can be heard above the moans.  

Panting, Bucky releases you. You slump to the floor, off his lap. His cum drips from your pussy, thighs wet as sticky as you close your eyes, desperately trying to catch your breath. You roll onto your back, pressing your thighs together. Through heavy-lidded eyes, you look down at Bucky. He sits kneeling, dishevelled. His hair is ruffled, blood is still smeared along his cheek, and his shirt is untucked and creased. 

At some point, he has tucked his cock away, suspenders hanging loosely by his hips. His gaze is not on you; rather, it is solely focused on the necklace in his palm. You go to lift your head, but you find yourself too weak and exhausted to bother. A mixture of being too fucked out to care and the lack of energy from acting as a conduit for the ritual. 

“Did it work?” You ask the gangster, and his eyes finally pull up to look at you. His gaze wanders over your face, examining your swollen lips, the blush across your cheeks, and the areas where exposed skin remains. He cracks a grin, lifting his hand. The necklace dangles from his fingers, the large, blue jewel now gifted with a large crack down the centre. 

You let out a sigh of relief, letting your head fall back as you stared up at the ceiling. Your eyes flicker closed, a sleepy warmth prickling across your scalp. 

“Doll?”

Your eyes snap open with a jolt. 

“It’s all done? The curse is gone?” The gangster questions. You weakly nod in reply.

“Her spirit and whatever curse she held have been released.” You affirm, voice sleepy, relaxing back into the pillows and blankets. “Apologies. This type of spell drains me.”

Bucky chuckles. You were just glad you had enough sense near the end to actually guide him. The gangster appeared to be attempting to prove something with the orgasms he extracted from you. In the state you were in, you had little reason to complain. 

When you opened your eyes again, he was across the room, vest on and jacket slung over his arm.

“I’ll leave your payment downstairs.” He says, only pausing to look down at you, still curled up on the floor. You blink up at him sleepily. “Thanks for your help, spirit-raiser.”

You can’t find the energy to correct him.

PONY CLUB (PART 2)

[amourane]

all fics/works are mine and I do not tolerate plagiarism or translations. I only have this account which I post my stories on, if you find any of my works somewhere else please tell me.

© amourane 2024. all rights reserved.

☾ - angst ♡ - fluff ❀ - smut

marauders era ʚ james potter sweeter than candy ♡ > six years ago you left the small town you were trapped in and you would have never thought that the cute boy next door would be the one running the bakery your family once owned.

ʚ sirius black innocent girl ❀ > you’re so pure, so perfect, so innocent and sirius and remus just can’t help but ruin you.

and what if i do? ♡ > you and sirius black were enamoured by one another and everyone was just waiting for you to admit it.

ʚ remus lupin innocent girl ❀ > you’re so pure, so perfect, so innocent and sirius and remus just can’t help but ruin you.

sleepless nights ♡ > all remus wants is to make sure you’re okay and the best way to make you feel better -

new discoveries ♡ > moving into a new place was hard enough but now there was a handsome stranger that made your heart skip a beat.

sweet ecstasy ❀ > remus has a surprise that he just can’t wait to show you.

ʚ regulus black your fated one ♡ > you never believed in fate until you met regulus black.

golden trio era ʚ theodore nott so this is love ♡ > there’s a weird feeling that erupts in theo’s chest whenever he looks at you and for the first time in his life his mind goes silent.

cry for me ❀ > you hated theodore nott but why now are you on your knees for him?

hate the way you smile ☾ ♡ > from the second you met theodore nott you knew that your life would be torturous and that the boy would never leave you alone but maybe forever isn’t so bad with theodore nott.

why can't we love freely? ☾ > you’re tired of being a secret and it was time to let theo know.

flustered and blushing ♡ > in which you’re a flustered mess around theo nott and he absolutely adores it.

calm after the storm ☾ ♡ > theo has a hard time dealing with his emotions and you were always there for him but what if one day it becomes all too much.

love notes in music ♡ > you always got what you wanted and the extremely hot drummer was no exception.

down the rabbit hole ♡ > in which it’s blatantly obvious that theodore nott has fallen down the rabbit hole of love.

ʚ draco malfoy fatal attraction ❀ > draco malfoy was a cunning man and a wanted criminal but you couldn’t deny the growing sexual tension between the two of you.

ʚ lorenzo berkshire coming soon...

ʚ mattheo riddle coming soon...

ʚ blaise zabini hexed hearts ♡ > hate was a very strong word and it was the word you would use to describe blaise zabini perfectly.

[anxiousnerdwritings]

I was thinking the same thing about the Shelbys lmao !!!

I headcanon'ed that Percy was the one to emotionally raise Weasley!Reader because the Reader is the absolute youngest of the seven sons so Molly overlooked him as she fussed over Ginny and tried to straighten out the Twins or chased after Ron and Harry Potter for so many years and Arthur was to busy with work but Percy saw they were special and could really be something one day and didn't want it squandered by bad influences and poverty.

Percy graduated the summer Weasley!Reader got the letter and had already started at the Ministry of Magic but picked up a second, side job to save up money so Weasley!Reader wouldn't have to go to school with hand-me-downs.

It drives jealousy in Ron and the Twins but Percy merely reasons that the hand-me-downs were literally falling apart by the time they got to Weasley!Reader and Molly tries to peace-keep by asking why Percy wouldn't spread the money around so each child could get one or two things new instead of just the Reader and Percy looks blankly before repeating himself, stating that he wouldn't have his son brother go to school with supplies that are literally falling apart because they've seen seven other siblings and, once again, are literally falling apart, woman do you hate your sons that much?

And that's just how it goes each following year, Percy taking Weasley!Reader shopping no matter how much Molly tries to fix the hand-me-downs. He does bring the others gifts during holidays and birthdays but it becomes clear to the older siblings the Percy dotes on Weasley!Reader like a father would and they sort of just observe for a time and realize that Molly neglects the Reader emotionally, maybe even becoming mean sometimes because of the summer shopping sprees, and Percy is the one stepping in for the Reader so they don't really say anything about it anymore

One summer when puberty hits Weasley!Reader like a hexed broomstick, Percy takes his boy to a designer clothing place and buys him an outrageously expensive fitted, three-piece suit, waving off the costs because at this point he's raising high in the Ministry of Magic, surpassing their father, in both position and pay, so it's okay.

"Stick with me, brother, and you'll have a higher standard of life one day too."

And despite Percy blaming Lestrange!OC!Daughter for corrupting Weasley!Reader it was really this moment right here that drove the Reader into becoming a criminal because it was fast, easy and fun money.

Lestrange!OC!Daughter makes him stop wearing English suits and instead start wearing French suits once they become romantically involved since she's French. He still wears the original suit Percy bought him from time to time though. And the higher ups the work with him are always adoring beautiful French or Italian suits because it becomes like an unspoken dress code.

Fleur always compliments criminal!Weasley whenever seen in the French suits, maybe even recognizing the craftsmanship and complimenting his taste although she rotates between fluent French and broken English and then gets ten times more excited when criminal!Weasley responds in perfect French with the hopes of easing her anxiety a bit as she struggles to get her point out, maybe even with a Parisian accent, because his beloved taught him, and it makes Molly ten times angrier, especially when Fleur and Lestrange only exclusively speak to each other in French, forming a strong alliance because of Molly's obvious dislike of both of them.

I could even imagine Weasley!Reader being Ginny’s twin, therefore adding even more to him being neglected in favor of his sister. But he and Ginny are very close and even she hates how their mother doesn’t even look twice at the Reader cause she’s so focused on Ginny. I also, really love the idea of Percy basically raising the Reader, mainly emotionally but I could see him picking up the slack when Molly takes to rocking baby!ginny more then she does baby!Reader. Or Percy stepping in to take over baby!Reader’s nightly feedings cause Molly has all her attention on baby!Ginny and ensuring she gets taken care of first cause she’s her precious babygirl and Arthur is working a late night. Just the thought of Percy feeling a desperate need to take on physically caring for his youngest baby brother because he can’t trust his mother not to forget about the Reader cause she has such tunnel vision on finally having her babygirl. Percy literally ends up raising the Reader himself through a majority of his upbringing and even then Molly doesn’t acknowledge it.

I could imagine Percy going as far as opening an entire secret vault at Gringotts just for the money he’s already saved for the Reader and continues to save for his precious youngest baby brother who deserves to have something for himself. Whereas the Reader takes up being a criminal to financially provide for his entire family, Percy takes to working himself to the bone for his youngest brother and he happily goes about it too.

Percy spoiling the Reader whenever he can meanwhile the Reader has never asked him for anything, Percy just freely gives it to him case it’s what he wants his brother to have. He knows his brother is special, special in a way that only Percy can see and he fully intends to make way for his brother to fucking shine. Now that doesn’t mean Percy doesn’t love and care for his other siblings because of course he does, but the Reader is different. The Reader needs him more than any of the rest of their siblings ever have and Percy will be damned if he isn’t there for him.

I could see Weasley!Reader maybe coming to a point of realizing what all Percy has done for him and wanting to repay him so he ends up doing some illegal stuff to get the money to do something nice for his older brother for once and becoming addicted to how easy and fun it was in the end. Given how much younger the Reader is in this scenario I could see his reasoning to becoming a criminal being a bit more selfish, like there’s still a part of him that wants to support his family but not so much his mother or father, only his siblings. Like, If they need anything the Reader would happily help them out cause he has the means to in more ways then one, but if Molly especially needed something the Reader wouldn’t be moving too fast, if at all, to lend a helping hand.

Also, I could wholeheartedly see Percy taking the Reader out of the Burrow once he’s graduated and saved up enough money to get a small flat or something where he and the Reader can live comfortably. At this point, Percy has just taken it upon himself to care for the Reader entirely so that’s exactly what he’s going to do. When Percy inevitably finds out about the Reader’s criminal activities I could see there being a moment of him asking himself where he went wrong in being up his youngest sibling. He’d blame himself entirely for doing something wrong for the Reader to end up down this path. But then the Reader divulges the whole entirety of the empire he’s built himself and it’s then that Percy realizes that no he didn’t go wrong, he didn’t go wrong at all. Percy would still become very involved in the Reader’s business as said before. He’ll utilize his power and position in the Ministry after so many years of moving up the ladder to further aid and protect his brother all the more.

I absolutely love the idea of Lestrange!Daughter, Bellatrix, Fleur, Narcissa and Andromeda all conversing in French together, especially when Molly is around cause she knows damn well they’re all taking shit about her and they very much are doing just that. It would enrage Molly all the more when the Reader joins the conversations, talking in fluent French that she didn’t even know he knew. At first she thinks the Reader is defending her and their family from the French speaking women but eventually she comes to the conclusion that that’s not what’s happening at all. It certainly doesn’t help that when she asks the Reader what they all were talking about he always answers with something vague, and she knows full well that’s bullshit.

I think Lestrange!Daughter and Fleur would be very good friends, even if they don’t really interact too much outside of the family but they most definitely gang up when they’re around Molly. Also, I think Weasley!Reader would be very close to Fleur in a platonic way of course. After all he was probably the first one in the family to truly befriend her when she got into a relationship with Bill and not judge or hate her like his mother and sister did. But he also wasn’t completely captivated with her because of her being part Veela either, fortunately cause he already had Lestrange!Daughter by his side.

[doppiodrips]

LETS GO IM SO SORRY FOR BEING LATE UWAHHHH cock stepping/slapping if u squint (im sorry) ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ The student council meeting has concluded, it was well past a couple hours since the institute's classes have stopped, so why were you still there? Slutting out for the three, beautiful student council men of course. You were on top on Doppio, his cock fully inside your ass while his hands gripped your waist, bouncing you up and down on his cock while he grunted from behind, trying to keep quiet so the only sounds were the slapping sounds, and your moans. "Come on, you can be louder than that... go on let your other council members hear how much of a slutty bitch you are.."

Ver and Hex didn't have the pleasure of using your hole, but each of them had some form of pleasure. Hex's cock was inside your mouth, his hands in your hair pulling you further down, muffled moans just added to his pleasure and you knew this, as anytime you did: He'd slightly step on your cock, despite how humiliated you felt getting pleasured by him stepping on you, it also felt too good. Don't let Hex distract you too much, on the other side of you was Ver, who you were trying to pump, but with two men using your holes focusing was quite tough, but don't worry!! Anytime you started going too slow, Ver would slap your cock: The slap blending right in with Doppio's thrusts, anytime Ver pulled away his hand you could see a string of your cum attached to his hand. "Aww oo, that slap seemed a bit rougher than normal, you holding up Ver?" Hex's voice was barely higher than the sounds of slapping and moaning, Ver let out a growl at both Hex's snarky comment and at your hands back to pumping him at the right pace. "Shut...up..Hex!!!" You chuckled a bit, Hex obviously noticing before grabbing your hair again, pushing you down all the way on his cock. "Aw, bad boy.. you should really pay attention to your Kaichou" ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ A/N: I'm sorry for this not being as good, the announcement about Nina really broke me so writing this was very hard wahh Mysta x Criminal!reader next though! and then some Noctyx 2.0 thirsts

[nijisanji-brain-rot-fics]

hex haywire ; as your boyfriend

POSSESSIVEEE, LIKE HAVE YALL SEEN HIS STREAMS?? ITS SO FUNNY BUT SO SCARY BUT ALSO KINDA ENDEARING????

protective, maybe a little too much, but yk protective.

he aint letting ANYONE touch you. nobody. except girls, he's chill with ur female friends, BUT DUDES?? NUH UH

he might possibly have a criminal record but uhmmm mama im in love with a criminal

every date would defo have wine or some sort of alcoholic drink

if u were stressed, he would defo stroke ur hair while comforting you and humming under his breath while u were on his chest ASJHHDG

forehead + neck kisses >>>> :)

OMG HIS CAT WOULD FUCKING LOVE YOUUU

he would defo get mad because u keep spoiling his fucking pets LMAOO

he's the type to pout when ur too busy for hugs or kisses or cuddles or anything affectionate in the moment [unless ofc ur having a bad day, then he'll give u ur space]

[a/n: guys i tried...... IDK WHAT I WAS DOING LMAO SOB pls hex is so silly and bbg like omg IK HE SOUNDS LIKE A YANDERE BUT LIKE.....I WANT HIM AS A GREEN FLAG OK IM SORRY ong guys btw this is all fiction aight, none of this is canon or anything, so dont take like the criminal record stuff too seriously cuz ik therell be some ppl out there who might and like, its supposed to be headcanons alright 😭 ok thank you www]]

[weirdly-specific-but-ok]

i made a meme that kind of violates the geneva convention for you.

When it was quarantine, sure Crowley napped a lot, but also: what if it was DIY time. Presenting to you... the Hand Sataniser, inspired by someone's actual typo during the pandemic. It involved one canva graphic, a lot of text adjustment, unnecessarily complicated disasters with hex codes and colour theory, and voila.

AND YES, THIS MEME PARTIALLY VIOLATES THE GENEVA CONVENTION BY USE OF THE RED CROSS SYMBOL. BUT I HAVE EVADED THAT BY SAYING NO CROSS (IT'S A DEMONIC PUN SEE I'M FUNNY) ANYWAY THAT IS THE LEVEL OF COMMITMENT I HAVE AS GOOD OMENS MASCOT.

Cheers to @arkytiorlecter who said "It's never a war crime the first time!"

Cheers to @orpiknight who started this, then kindly informed me that I was violating the Geneva Convention and then happily proclaimed, "Asmi's an international criminal."

If the reason I finally violate the Geneva Convention is a Crowley meme, then so be it. Such is my passion for the cause. Appreciate me. Uplift me. Enable me. My KoFi is linked in the pinned post. Yes, that last part was a joke. Do you really want to fund an international war criminal?

(no, btw, the answer is typically no)

[mxlfoydraco]

do you know any fics where harry is jealous of blaise cause he and draco are really close and/or touchy friends?

Thank u 😩

I can give you jealous Harry in general, adding on to this list Jealous Harry

Jealous Harry

Around You Moves by ignatiustrout (29k)

Harry knew Draco was gay when he invited him to move in. He’s never had a problem with this. So why does he feel so weird about Draco bringing men home all of a sudden?

Here’s The Pencil, Make It Work by ignatiustrout (49k)

Harry thinks “Why is Malfoy working in a coffee shop in muggle London?” is a much simpler question than, “Are you going to accept that auror offer and, if you don’t, what will you do?”

keep it down by warmfoothills (13k)

Malfoy’s an inconsiderately loud roommate and Harry’s over it.

If It Takes All Night by @tackytigerfic (10k)

It’s not the first time Harry’s been the victim of a botched curse (that’s one of the reasons he doesn’t like crowds), but he feels bad that Malfoy had to get caught up in it too. So they’re bonded. That’s ok, they just have to make sure to be touching at all time. No problem. Because Malfoy smells so nice, and has such lovely shiny hair, and his skin is so very warm. But this isn’t going to be a problem for their friendship at all. Is it, Harry?

Modern Love by @tackytigerfic (61k)

Harry Potter, of all people, knows that life isn’t always fair. And no one gets to be happy all of the time. But surely there’s something more—something better—than a rubbish Ministry job, and a lonely old house, and that feeling that everyone out there is doing a better job of living than Harry is. And it really doesn’t seem fair that Draco Malfoy is back in Harry’s life, all of a sudden, and even though he’s wandless, and living with Muggles, and making his mother cry with his lifestyle choices, he’s happy. So what’s he doing right, that Harry isn’t? Because things don’t really change, do they? And if Harry can’t be happy, he’ll settle for a good night’s sleep, some posh antiques, and the opportunity to find out what Malfoy has been up to for all these years. And that’s what starts it all.

Make This Leap by @oflights (118k)

Harry owns a struggling restaurant which is running out of money, and his Head Chef has just handed in notice. He's at a bit of a loss as to what to do until Narcissa Malfoy presents an obvious solution: bring in Draco Malfoy as Chef and part owner. Harry does.

Who we are in the shadows by @quicksilvermaid (99k)

What happens when you’re forced to become the very thing you despise? Ex-Auror Harry Potter, tossed out of the Ministry for something he had no control over, has been looking for a way back to his former life. When he comes across Draco Malfoy in the criminal underbelly of Wizarding London and in need of protection, Harry figures bringing him in to face the Ministry’s justice is his ticket back to everything he’s lost. But nothing is exactly as it seems. Not even Harry himself. And as he gets drawn further and further into Malfoy’s world of honour and deception he finds himself questioning everything he thought he knew—about his childhood nemesis, the Ministry job he misses so much, and most of all, about himself. What happens when you’re forced to see that you were wrong?

Grounds for Divorce by Tepre (122k)

Malfoy finds a coin. Harry finds a letter. A story about histories, a story about families. A story about a lemon tree somewhere in Upper Egypt.

Two of Us by @sorrybutblog (5k)

The gang goes to a gay bar. Or: five times Harry accidentally pretended to be Draco’s boyfriend and one time Draco told him to put out or shut up.

You Know the Feeling by @sorrybutblog (12k)

Harry waits, but the hex never comes. In the mirror, Malfoy’s eyes dip shut, and he lets out a soft sound that goes right through Harry, heat rising in his body, pushing out against his chest. Malfoy turns slowly, careful not to dislodge Harry’s hand. He swallows, Adam's apple bobbing, then speaks, his voice low. “Don’t start something you won’t finish.” *** Harry’s not sure why he’s started hooking up with Malfoy. Boredom, or the heat of the summer, maybe. Whatever it is, it’s nothing too complicated. Right?

He Comes Like a Thunderstorm by @korlaena (140k)

Draco is doing his best to balance the life he wants to live and the life he’s forced to live. He’s nearing the tail-end of a long, post-war probation when Harry Potter crashes back into his life with all the grace of a charging Erumpent, breaking through his carefully constructed rules and routine. Caught up in a whirlwind of sex and lust, Potter unwittingly shows Draco that his life as an Incubus doesn’t have to be as lonely and unfulfilling as he thought, but how long can it last?

Scaredy Cat by GallaPlacidia (53k)

Google drive link by @geesenoises

Draco is cursed and starts uncontrollably turning into a kitten whenever he's stressed. There is, of course, only one logical solution: he must move in with Harry until they figure out how to break the curse.

The Nightmare Club by @diligent-thunder (85k)

Hermione and Ron are going back to Hogwarts to do N.E.W.T.s, Ginny isn't. Harry hasn't decided, until he has, in front of the Wizengamot and now he's responsible for Malfoy as well. A tale of enemies who learn to get along, get it wrong and get it on. Everything is purple, some things are on fire and no-one is sleeping properly. But don't worry, there's tea!

The Arrangement by @thegertie (65k)

It's worked for years. Why change it now?

Under Giant Mountains by @wolfpants (33k)

Harry doesn’t know where he’s going. Everyone else has their life paths figured out; he doesn’t even know where his map is. Who’d have thought Draco Malfoy bathing in a Norwegian forest would be the guidepost Harry needed? In which Harry’s trip to Norway to visit dragon-wrangler Ron introduces him to hikes from hell, mysterious natural magic, foraging, magical bathing, a new and bizarre friendship, and the frustrating, heady allure of his former nemesis turned sexy globetrotting field researcher.

Hook(Up) by @keyflight790 (5k)

Harry wasn't jealous. Not at all. He just wishes his damn assistant would focus on his fucking job rather than flirting with Zabini.

Title of Their Sex Tape by @cibeewastaken (12k)

What are the Wizarding world's most elite law enforcers doing when they aren't catching criminals? It seems Auror Malfoy is often caught throwing food into Auror Potter's mouth when he's mid-yawn. This story isn't about Draco throwing food at Harry. What it does have is: Undercover! Heists! Draco pining for Harry! Harry being oblivious, but also can't help noticing how good Draco smells! Banters and jokes! That's about it.

Graceless Heart by @orange-peony (132k)

Harry is lost and broken after the war. He has gone to countless funerals, broken up with Ginny, moved back into Grimmauld Place—which feels darker and dirtier than ever before despite how much he tries to fix it. He feels lonely and desperate, but he won’t ask for help, and he still can’t cry. When he agreed to help the Aurors at Malfoy Manor over the summer, he thought that he would be breaking dark curses. Harry never thought that he would actually spend his days sorting out dusty books with Draco Malfoy, or teaching him how to cook. Little by little, as they begin to navigate their life post-war, Harry and Draco become intimate…in more ways than Harry could have ever expected.

Two to Lie and One to Listen by @fluxweeed (84k)

It’s weird when Hermione announces that she and Ron have broken up. It’s weirder when this is followed by the revelation that she’s already moved on—and the new object of her affections is Draco Malfoy. Things only get worse from there.

All the Small Things by @bafflinghaze (12k)

Harry didn't know why, but when he saw Ginny and Draco together being so friendly, he had these feelings that he just couldn't understand.

Time Will Tell by @digthewriter (6k)

Harry needed a place to crash and hide, Draco provided that and eventually, he provided more than just a sofa to sleep on. Harry found a way to Draco's bed, but will he ever be able to find his way into Draco's heart?

Constellation Prize by @andithiel (12k)

Harry’s been pining for his friend and Auror partner for almost a year. But despite what his friends say, he and Draco aren't an old married couple...Draco has a boyfriend, there's no way he'd ever be interested. Right?

Break-Up Sex by @gracerene (2k)

Harry doesn't miss the bond, but he does miss Draco.

Head in the Game by @samyistrying (16k)

Harry and Malfoy shagged. But it’s fine, Harry doesn’t have feelings for him or anything. Yet he isn’t too thrilled when Malfoy gets hired as a Sports Therapist for Harry’s team – Puddlemere United. Of course, he gives massages. And of course, Harry has to bear witness to Malfoy making player after player groan in pleasure.

The Matchmaker's Spell by @kbrick (20k)

Thanks to a spell cast over all of wizarding Britain, Draco is forced to marry Harry Potter, who still hates him. But Draco refuses to live a cold, sexless existence, choosing to fill the emptiness in his life and his bed with a parade of lovers. And while Harry may not be able to stand Draco, he despises seeing him with anyone else.

Historians by @oknowkiss (29k)

It’s the Dumbledore’s Army Reunion Holiday, and Harry’s found himself in hot water with his friends once again, after telling them he has a boyfriend he definitely does not have. In an attempt to fix things, he’s made it his colleague on Level Nine, Draco Malfoy’s problem too. Featuring a ski chalet in Switzerland, a pair of bunk beds, and an agreement that should’ve been simple, were it not for all the bloody feelings getting in the way.

Intention by @the-sinking-ship (6k)

Harry really ought to listen to whatever Ron is saying, but it becomes impossible to focus when a familiar figure across the pub curls his fingers around another man’s tie. And when that man leans in with a wolfish smile, Harry sees red, and all he can think is mine.

Peeking behind the Curtain by @wellhalesbells (23k)

Draco sees things he really, really wishes he didn't. If only to get out of all the homework that comes with it.

Take the Air by dysonrules (51k)

Someone or something is attacking Muggles and leaving them for dead. Auror Harry Potter is assigned to the case, but with his usual partner unavailable, he is stuck with the most annoying Auror ever to walk the halls of the Ministry.

[blasphemousclaw]

Rykard and Rennala are such an underrated dynamic… we don’t get any direct instances of them interacting like we do with Ranni and Rennala, but there’s definitely hints of a relationship there: The description for several of the magma spells reads,

“After discovering the ancient hexes of Gelmir, Rykard, son of Queen Rennala, brought them back into practical use as new forms of sorcery.”

this implies that Rykard’s interest and skill in sorcery is a direct result of his mother’s influence; plus, he’s emulating her by pioneering a new form of sorcery, just like how she pioneered the study of lunar sorcery at Raya Lucaria. then there’s the two abductor virgins patrolling Raya Lucaria, which means Rykard cared enough about his mother’s safety to set aside two of his war machines to defend her and the academy. there’s also a strong case to be made that his mother’s fate informed Rykard’s hatred of the gods and his belief that they “take by force.” they tried to take her kingdom, they took away Caria’s true power (“during the age of the Erdtree, Carian astrology withered on the vine”), then they took away Radagon and left her a shell of her former self. if that happened to my mom I’d be pissed too. he’s literally mommy’s little war criminal

[justkeeponsimming]

(That’s a wrap!

I hope you all enjoyed Hex’s storyline! This was one of the most fun generations I’ve played in the legacy. It was interesting to play a not-so-nice sim, featuring crimes with the hint of Sims humour! I can also showcase a closeup of the recolour I did for this specific pose! I don’t know if it’s clear to see Hex is holding up the board with her own name on it in her legacy banner!

Hex’s main journey ends here, but this won’t be the last we see of her! The fallout of Hex��s actions have a long lasting ripple effect on her family!

Our next post will be the start of generation nine with our heiress, Mercy!

Thank you all so much for reading - let’s take one last look at our objectives and how many we got done!

Objectives:

Get a ‘Villainy’ degree

Join Criminal Career (either branch) & reach the top

Have & complete one of the Deviance Aspirations

Have the evil trait

Master Mischief skill

Pull pranks on (be mischievous) family and neighbors

Obtain the voodoo doll and bind it to a sim (this sim will be your spouse)

Marry & have one child (you want the perfect evil child) thanks MCC for ruining this lol

Become best friends with a neighbor or Childhood friend & become partners in crime with them.

Once your child is born, befriend them & start becoming enemies with your spouse (you just used them to obtain a child after all – their part is done [divorce is your choice]) - I took a different route with this, but Hex is only friends in game with Mercy and Honour. She has no relationship with Karma and dislikes Justice!

Optional: become a vampire - couldn’t do this, Hex is an alien lol

Optional: Have a black cat

See you all soon for generation nine of the Quick Legacy! )

[mariiilume]

ARCANE X INFECTION ROTTMNT AU

AxI Rottmnt (Arcane x Infection Au) follows the story of Aho, Lee, Donnie, and Ray As the main protagonists.

It follows a very similar story line to Arcane with a few twists! One being the Krang infection (replacing shimmer) as a threat to Topside. The undercity seems to have some form of immunity to it however, making it a wonderful weapon.

All things seem to get worse when Aho, an undercity criminal under the rule of the undercities top dog: Draxum, starts causing havoc as the hex stone is stolen, Leaving a realm of paranoia to be cast at the possibilities it could be used for.

It only gets worse when investigations for the case only dig deeper for finding the true origins of the mystery criminal, Usagi finds a prisoner from Stillwater: Lee who might know more about this then he’s letting on.

Ray, the creator of the hex tech is thrown into panic and responsibilities that she isn’t sure he knows the answers to. Only sinking deeper into trouble as the origins of his past are uprooted, and shown to the world.

While Donnie, leader of the fire lights is desperately trying to keep his people safe and out of trouble, the only one who knew the full story to what truly happened with the hexgem incident.

Follow the story as they unravel their past and future in a bundle of love and hate!

Aho (Previously Mikey): Plays the role of jinx

Leo/Lee: Plays the role of avi

Donnie/dee: Plays the role of Ekko

Raph/Ray: Plays the role of Jayce and Viktor

Usagi: Plays the role of Caitlyn

A few side characters!!

Draxum: Plays the role of Silco

Splinter: Plays the role of Vander

April: Plays the role of Clagger

Cassandra: Plays the role of Mylo

Karai: Plays the role of Mel

Big mama: Plays the role of sevika

Shredder: Plays the role of hiemidinger

WOOO FINALLY FINISHED ALL THE REFS!! I’ve been working hard to get a lot of content done. I hope you enjoy this silly little project! If enough people enjoy it, I may make a lil fic or smth! But prepare for more art, cuz it’s not gonna stop!!!

[themongrelcatcamehome-blog]

i am trying to break your heart pt. 1

Notes: This fic is kinda angst, smut with plot and whatever else. The first bit is here. The title of this story is a song by Wilco. Synopsis: Over a month has passed since Caitlyn and Vi ended their relationship, yet Caitlyn couldn’t find a reason to celebrate Jinx's capture. Despite it being a huge day for Piltover and the Enforcers, Caitlyn only wanted to go home, but someone had another plans for ther.

Warnings: angst, explicit sexual description, masturbation, strong language, kidnapping mentioned, arguing.

“Come on, Commander! We saved a slice of pie for you!”

Caitlyn stood in Piltover's central precinct where officers celebrated the capture of Jinx, the most wanted criminal in the history of the cities. Dressed in her classic navy-blue uniform, Caitlyn was ready to start her shift when her phone buzzed with a message.

The sender was Vi, her ex-girlfriend. The two avoided each other whenever possible, but tonight they would’ve been on the same shift. Since their breakup, their conversations had been strictly professional.

Locking her phone, she headed toward her office. An officer stopped her to request she read an email that had arrived earlier that morning. With all the commotion surrounding Jinx’s arrest the night before, Caitlyn had barely kept up with her daily duties. Grabbing a slice of pie from the station's reception desk, she entered her office and shut the door.

It was 5:41 PM now. The room filled with the aroma of cinnamon from the pie resting on a disposable plate in her left hand. Beside the door, a table held a coffee machine and a fresh pot of tea. Today, Caitlyn opted for coffee.

Settling at her desk, she took a bite of pie, sipped her coffee, and opened her laptop to check her emails.

A flood of messages filled her inbox:

“Cmte Kiramman, congratulations.”

“Commander, we did it!”

“Z1-23 Report.”

“Caitlyn, enjoy our exclusive offers...”

“Weekly News: Hex engine update...”

The coffee unsettled Caitlyn’s stomach. Not her usual drink, and she knew nausea would follow for the rest of the night.

Loosening the top button of her white linen shirt and her brown belt slightly, she was interrupted by the ring of her office phone. The number was unfamiliar, with a foreign prefix.

“Commander Kiramman speaking.” “Hello, Caitlyn. It’s your father.” “Dad? Why are you calling my office line?” “I left my phone on the ship. This was the only number in the directory. How are you?” “I’m fine, Dad. Tired, busy. I can’t talk for long…”

Since her mother’s death, Caitlyn’s relationship with her father had grown distant. They each coped in their own ways—Caitlyn buried herself in work, while her father, after a long bout of depression, chose to travel to deal with the Kiramman family's diplomatic ties. He was on a charity cruise spanning half the country to secure new patrons for their causes.

“I see. But you’re happy, right? It’s over. That woman’s locked up. I want to be there for the trial.” “Dad, that’ll take a while. We still need to collect testimonies and investigate countless pages of her crimes... It’s a ton of work. Why did you call?” “I... Never mind. Take care of yourself, sweetheart.” “Dad, wait—”

The line disconnected. Caitlyn’s stomach churned. She considered calling back but dismissed the idea. “If it was important, he would’ve said,” she reasoned, placing the receiver back.

Returning to her computer, she opened another email.

Subject: Monthly Report Z-S04 x

“Commander, Forwarding the report. Fifteen days of surveillance on the suspect. Streets remain empty; citizens are frightened. Interrogation opportunity: within 4-6 days.

June Losneld Sgt.

Narcotics Division - Shimmer Trafficking Prevention.”

Caitlyn postponed the decision on which team to assign until tomorrow.

The next email read:

Subject: Report 281: Sevika

With Jinx in custody, the Enforcers’ tactical priority shifted to Sevika, Silco’s former right hand and a known accomplice. Her capture required precise planning. A line from the report startled Caitlyn:

"The subject expressed a desire to negotiate only with high command. Our informant confirmed she wishes to propose a deal akin to Vander’s arrangements..."

The idea of ending the bloodshed intrigued Caitlyn. Years ago, she committed to a more flexible approach toward Zaun. The days of martial law were long behind them, and she had learned that some compromises were necessary to achieve the ultimate goal: peace between the twin cities.

She printed the report and added it to the urgent pile for further analysis tomorrow.

The night shift had just begun, and Caitlyn had a mountain of tasks to delegate to her lieutenants and sergeants. Overwhelmed by the workload, she felt her heart race. The nauseating mix of coffee and pie, combined with the knowledge that Jinx sat just blocks away in a solitary cell, heightened her anxiety. Trembling, she steadied her breath.

“Why can she take the night off, and I cannot?”

She dismissed the thought as petty—Vi was a sergeant, three ranks below her, with duties restricted to Piltover’s lower streets. Still the sentiment lingered. Caitlyn buttoned her shirt, tightened her belt, shut down her laptop and decided to head home.

Vi was lying on the couch, her black and white cat resting on her stomach. She was still wearing half of her uniform: the white shirt and blue pants. Her boots were next to the door. Vi woke the cat with a scratch behind its ears.

“Up you go, little rascal. I need to take a shower.”

Vi was exhausted. Even though she hadn’t been part of the group that arrested Jinx, she felt her sister's imprisonment as if it were by her own hands. A wave of sadness washed over her as she thought about it. Vi kept trying to tell herself that Jinx wasn’t Powder, just Jinx. This attempt to distance herself from her sister never worked. “I called her Jinx one day. And I left her in an alley.” was a constant thought on Vi’s mind. With no friends, no sister, and forbidden from going to Zaun, Vi felt trapped by her own choices. Caitlyn was her only friend, only confident and even that she had chosen to lose.

Vi headed to the fridge—her apartment had only one bedroom, and the kitchen was part of the living room. On the TV, a channel only airing children’s cartoons. Vi didn’t want to watch any news. It was just Jinx’s face plastered on a most wanted poster and interviews with her ex.

Vi drank half a bottle of water. She decided she’d open a beer after the shower. Her hair was dirty, and her arms, closer to her wrists, were stained with gunpowder. Her gauntlets emitted a fine smoke on the inside, and Vi always had to scrub her wrists and hands thoroughly after using them. Her nails were dirty and long. She grabbed her phone from the kitchen table and put on a playlist to listen to while showering.

In the bathroom, Vi placed her phone on the sink cabinet. She took off her shirt and tank top. Then, her pants and underwear. She noticed her shirt was stained with gunpowder and threw it in the laundry basket. The pants and the rest of the clothes were left on the floor.

“... If I could see your face once more...”

She skipped the song. The instrumental of another began, and she skipped it again. On the third one, she let it play.

She turned on the shower and checked if the temperature was cold. The water ran as she stretched out to grab the shampoo. She turned off the shower, lathered her hair, and didn’t stop until it was completely foamy.

Turning the shower back on, she rinsed the shampoo from her hands and started removing her nose piercing.

“Let’s undress just like cross-eyed strangers...”

Water streamed down Vi’s face. Her eyes closed as the foam dissolved. She began soaping her chest, armpits, and stomach. She noticed hair growing into a trail below her navel. She soaped her groin and thighs, grabbed the sponge, and scrubbed her shins and feet. Crouched down, she tried to scrub her back but felt a sharp pain in her ribs. She remembered hurting herself a few days ago.

Vi stood up and soaped her breasts again and then remembered that they were already cleaned. She pinched her left nipple to take the piercing off. She remembered how much Caitlyn used to love that piercing and started to feel turned on. She ran her hands through her pussy and started masturbating, but she caught some of the song’s lyrics and stopped.

“You were so right when you said that I’ve been drinking.What was I thinking when I said goodnight?”

Vi suddenly stood up and groaned. “Ughhh!” “Why the hell did I leave this fucking song on?” she thought.

She tried stretching her arm out of the shower to change the song, but water dripping from her hand made it replay from the start.

“Screw this! This fucking playlist…”

Vi turned back toward the shower wall. Her eyes were burning because of the shampoo water. She thought about all the times she tried to convince Caitlyn to change her taste in music. She also remembered Caitlyn explaining why the shampoo at her place didn’t sting the eyes. She laughed, remembering Cait’s reaction the first time she heard punk music. Then, her heart sank as she started paying attention to the lyrics again.

“I chose to end it. I decided. I couldn’t take it anymore. It wasn’t for me anymore. I decided. And she accepted. She didn’t say anything. She didn’t fight, she didn’t try. She just accepted... Why did she just accept it?”

It was common for Vi to debate with herself. Her relationship with Caitlyn had ended 37 days ago. Vi kept count. Her goal was to reach fifty days without sending any text. Their relationship had been good, and that made Vi angry every day. They got along well: one week, they’d do what Vi chose, and the next, Caitlyn would pick the plan. They went to the movies, the park, the theater. Caitlyn wrote her many letters and she made a ton of playlists for her. They planned traveling to Ionia. On weekends, Caitlyn would cook while Vi cleaned up and picked a movie. It was a good life.

The song was ending as Vi finished drying herself. She dried her hair and was walking toward the bedroom to grab clean clothes when she heard a desperate knock on the door:

“Sargeant? Sargeant! It’s an emergency! The Commander’s been kidnapped!”

28 days ago, Caitlyn went to Vi’s house one afternoon during her break. Vi was finishing a sandwich. She greeted Caitlyn with a smile and went over to hug her.

Caitlyn stayed in the hug longer than usual. Vi gently stroked her head and asked:

- What’s wrong, cupcake? - Nothing. I just want to stay here a bit longer.

Vi laughed.

- You can stay as long as you want.

Caitlyn broke the hug, put her keys on the table and walked over to the couch to play with the cat. She gently petted the cat’s head, which was asleep, curled in a cotton blanket.

- He’s so cute, it’s almost annoying. - He is, right? Hard to believe he eats half of my salary. - I’m buying his food this month by the way. Did you remember to pay the electric bill?

Vi slapped her palm to her forehead.

- Ugh, babe, I forgot - Why don’t you… - “Whydon’tyousetittoautomaticpaymentbabe,” I know, I know! I forgot.

Caitlyn laughed and glanced back at the cat.

- Don’t say you forgot, I remind you every time. You don’t set it up because you don’t want to. - Yeah, I hate the idea of the bank taking my money as soon as it hits my account. Is it wrong to value my salary? - Oh, Vi. You're a dork.

Vi got up from the table and carried her plate to the sink. She washed her hands with dish soap and dried them on the towel hanging on the fridge. She was wearing her uniform pants and a tank top. Her shirt was hanging on the back of the chair.

She went over to Caitlyn on the couch, messing her hair and adjusting her bangs.

- I was thinking we could... - Vi, we need to talk.

She has now adopted a serious tone.

- Now? I only have ten minutes. But hey, you’re my boss, right?

Vi gently held Caitlyn’s chin and leaned in to kiss her, but noticed Caitlyn’s eyes were watery.

- What’s wrong? Is everything okay? - I… I don’t know how to say this… - No.

Vi let go of Caitlyn’s face and took a step back. She knew what Caitlyn was hesitating to say. She placed her hands on her hips and took a deep breath

- Say it. Look at me and say it. - I… I had no choice! - Caitlyn, YOU are the commander! YOU make the decisions! - It was… It was the council! I didn’t have a choice! - No choice, huh? The only thing I asked from you all this time was this. The ONLY thing! I didn’t pester you when you decided to keep our relationship a secret, I didn’t… - Secret? We go everywhere together. Everyone knows! - Everyone knows because it’s obvious, not because you’ve officially acknowledged it! - Does it matter? - Of course it does! You act all weird when anyone gets close, and… - Of course! You’re a sergeant and I’m your commander. - Ah, Cait, I’m not talking about when we’re working! Remember that time at the park… - Of course I remember, you never let me forget. - Right, now the problem is me. Fine. Go ahead, just say it.

Vi opened her arms.

- Say it with every word: you’ve decided to join the group that wants to kill my sister. Say it.

Vi placed her hands back on her hips. Caitlyn had her hands covering her face. She raised her head to look at Vi and realized she’d never heard her talk this way.

- I… I had no choice, Violet. It was the council. The council decides the most critical issues. You… You know it’s been like this since I… - Yeah, since you thought you were a Noxian hero. Since you thought it was a good idea to use your family’s influence to siege the city and become a dictator. - Alright, I deserve to hear that. But  try to understand, no one wants to kill Jinx… We… - Do you really think she’ll accept being captured? When she fights back, they’ll put a bullet in her head and that’ll be the end of it. You didn’t think of me when you agreed to this? - No! I mean, yes! I thought about it. I tried to convince… Look, I’ll make sure no lethal force is used and… - Wow, Caitlyn, damn. I can’t believe this. - I… You… Okay. Look. Nothing’s going to change between us, right? Please, talk to me. - I’m heading back to work, Caitlyn. Lock the door when you leave.

____________________________________________________________

End of part 1. Part 2 will be posted soon.

[artficlly]

smog & spirits [masterlist]

Marvel 1920s Gangster/Peaky Blinders Inspired Fantasy AU

gangsterboss!bucky x witch!reader

Bucky Barnes, the leader of Sootstone's Smog Boys, needs a favour. A nasty curse has been cast on him, and he needs a witch to help him break it.

Warnings: 18+ content minors dni, smut, fem reader, begging, orgasm denial, fingering, p in v, no aftercare, graphic wound description, blood/gore, graphic descriptions of stitching, religious punishment (lashings), angst, angst no comfort, comfort/fluff, sex magic, blood magic, potion for arousal, curses and hexes, criminals & crime, 1920s street gangs, witchcraft, possession, mediums, ghosts, hauntings, horror, smoking, brothels, pubs, gambling, alcohol, mention of death/violence/torture, bucky barnes has issues, bucky barnes is a dick, bucky barnes needs a hug, police brutality, vaguely british setting??, sexism, classism, no use of y/n, lmk if i've missed anything

main masterlist

CHAPTERS [4/10]

spirit-raiser pony club the premonition bloodties

[apher69]

Bill Cipher AU idea: Fill Sixtine (hear me out)

A Bill Cipher who caused Weirdmageddon and lost got put in that therapision. He actually rehabilitates and sees the errors in his ways. The day before Bill could be rebirthed though, he escaped the therapision, being the first to escape in millions of years. He's determined to stop the rest of the Bill Ciphers he can from causing Weirdmageddon or saving that universe from Weirdmageddon. Antihero vibes and becomes a cosmic criminal and fights to complete his mission. Bounties are out for him, he runs into a few Grunkle Fords, avoiding police, and trying to cut all ties to his old life or use those old ties to continue his mission of stopping Bill's from that same destination.

Bill Cipher new fake name he chose: Filly (Fill) Sixtine

Outfit similar to Stanford Pines, most Stanfords want him dead. He has to not solely relay on his powers now since he's not stuck in the Nightmare Realm and he is going up against himself basically. He tries to remove all connections to past lives.

Visits dimensions to warn what to watch out for or check if he can help with any damages. Sometimes he can even stay over at the Mystery Shack if Sanely or the others allow him. Even at places like that, he tends to avoid Stanford unless he comes up to him. He understands the trauma their bill probably causes them so he does his best to respect it. Sometimes he even talks through to some Bill Ciphers or even Will Cipher's to prevent Weirdmageddon.

Relationships:

The Oracle: nice enough to help this Bill/Fill with his new mission.

Stanford #e-13701: They are a version of Ford that was used getting along in one Gravity Falls universe. They played cards and regularly visited him. Until some universal police came by and ended up fighting with the family. A few died, some had severe injuries, and the Mystery Shack needs some repairs. Dipper and Stanford died fighting the police. Bill/Fill doesn't try to stay or regularly visit the same universities again after that.

Will Cipher 6b-000175.5: Will was talked down from visiting or doing anything with Earth. He was constantly bullied and Bill helped him and now considers him a hero. Because Will was in the Nightmare Realm, universal police couldn't really arrest him, but they ended up communicating communicating through a type of phone Bill/Fill gave Will.

The Axolotl: Not understanding what Bill/Fill's end goal is, he feels disappointment in himself for letting Bill/Fill live, thinking he could change, along with sadness for Bill/Fill.

Likes: Seeing families. A safe home. A few fast food chains in different or places in-between universes, since they are more consistent than anything else. Geometry text books, while being alone. Card games, especially Hexes Holdem. Will Ciphers, redeemable Ciphers, and Tad Stranges. Weapons dealers.

Hates: Reverse Gravity Falls, he's taken care of some Dippers and Mabels there. Weirdmageddon succeeding, also gets him a bit emotional inside because he knows this Bill's mistakes and his regrets.

[tricoufamily]

🔪rogues gallery legacy challenge 🔪

i'm misleading you most of them aren't even criminals

ok!!! so i made this challenge for myself because i can't commit to any save, but i'll definitely want to play with these sims it's got autism sprinkled all over it. some of you might also like it as well so i'll share it!

this is a ten generation legacy challenge, with every generation loosely based on a different batman villain, but you don't have to be a batman fan to do it.

general rules

start with the default amount of money you get straight out of cas. no money cheats!

heirs can be any gender with any appearance. i think it'd be fun to dress them inspired by the character, but you don't have to. you probably don't want to make the actual character, honestly (what, ivy marries harley, then a few generations later there's just another harley? no)

choose your own succession laws

if you don’t have the pack for the requirement, replace it with whatever is a logical replacement. or just do something else instead, i’m not gonna come through your computer

i have provided alternate requirements when necessary for people who don’t want to play with occult sims

when stated that the sim goes to university, i recommend turning off aging until they graduate. sims without a university requirement can still attend!

if you end up doing this, please tag me in your posts 💜 or at least tell me how it's going in an ask lol

1: poison ivy 🌱

people say you’re a bit intense about the environment, but you say people are too stupid to see what’s right in front of them. the world clearly needs your help, but no one understands you. people quickly disappoint you when you get close to them. they voted against the clean energy production n.a.p.—why shouldn’t their spouse find out about that secret date you had?

stats:

traits: green fiend, hot-headed, loves outdoors aspiration: villainous valentine career: gardener (botanist branch) max skills: gardening, herbalism, flower arranging

requirements:

live in any world but strangerville (it doesn’t have an eco footprint!). make every neighborhood in the world have a green eco footprint—this means you’ll have to live in all of them at some point. big worlds recommended.

get the super green thumb bonus trait from the aspiration rewards store.

leave someone at the altar.

eventually end up with your best friend who’s already in a relationship.

have 3 cowplants. if one of them dies, remove 1000 simoleons as punishment and replace it. what you do with them is your business.

2: scarecrow 👻

between moving constantly, being terrified of the man-eating plants outside your window, and your parent's reputation preceding them, you fantasize about the control you’ve lacked your whole life. you loved creating monstrosities with your chemistry set as a child, and when you finally escape your town for college, your mind leads you to dark places. you evade consequences until your scheming backfires, and you’re haunted for the rest of your life by a terrifying specter your family can’t see.

stats:

traits: paranoid, genius, ambitious aspiration: purveyor of potions (non-occult alternative: academic) career: education (professor branch)/scientist (for non-occult route) max skills: mental skill, mixology skill, cooking skill

requirements:

gain and conquer every adult fear.

go to the university of britechester and major in psychology. join a secret society.

become a spellcaster. feed hexed potions to 5 sims and use negative spells on 10 sims. non-occult alternative: instead of becoming a professor, join the scientist career, and with the sim ray, use the mind control: panic upgrade on all coworkers.

after college, move to another world than where your parent lives.

become cursed with the curse of the night wraith (you may cheat for it if you can’t get it). live 3 days with it then you can de-curse yourself, but not before adding the night wraith to your household (requires cheats). obviously you can’t stop your family from interacting with it autonomously, but never initiate an interaction yourself while playing as another family member. non-occult alternative: use a ghost instead and you can pretend it’s just a figment of your sim’s imagination.

3: riddler 🧩

with your parent who hasn’t slept in days claiming your house is cursed, you drown it out with the internet and video games. your social skills might not be up to par because of it, but you’re a genius the likes of which has never been seen before. according to you, at least. you aren’t easy to get along with, but neither is one of your exes, whose path you just can’t stop crossing. try as you might, you can’t stay away from each other for very long.

stats:

traits: geek, socially awkward, self-absorbed aspiration: chief of mischief career: tech guru (start-up entrepreneur branch) max skills: mischief, robotics, logic

requirements:

as a teen, be in the streamer part-time career. have at least 500 followers on social media.

have a sim you’re dating die.

your “forever partner” has the hot-headed and mean trait. break up and get back together with them 4 times.

successfully hack supercomputer 3 times.

woohoo a servo. at least once

4: harley quinn ♦

you might never be a fully mature person, but that’s okay! you’re a free spirit—a bit unpredictable and fickle, but you’re fun! your parent’s dream is for you to go to foxbury, but one night out drinking with your roommates, you fall head over heels for a mysterious, charismatic stranger at the bar. you very quickly decide to follow them to the city, only to realize that they aren’t who you thought they were, and maybe you’re not who you thought you were, either. you end the relationship and truly find yourself.

stats:

traits: goofball, childish, romantic aspiration: leader of the pack career: doctor max skills: mischief, comedy

requirements:

start a club with your two best friends.

have an equal number of friends and enemies

briefly live on the foxbury campus, majoring in biology. fall in love with a criminal sim with all negative traits, drop out of college, and move in with them in a needs tlc apartment.

work a number of odd jobs and part-time careers while your relationship deteriorates.

break up with your partner, move out on your own, and go back to college. do not live on campus this time—continue working a part-time job while living at home. become a doctor.

5: clayface 🎭

your parent never took life very seriously, but you couldn’t be more different. not only are you fiercely competitive, you have to be liked by everyone. you’re a social chameleon who dreams of the stage. you’re only a high-maintenance, jealous, hothead—fame certainly won’t go to your head…

stats:

traits: high-maintenance, hot-headed, jealous aspiration: master actor career: actor max skills: acting, charisma

requirements:

live in del sol valley.

have a good reputation until becoming a proper celebrity, then earn a bad reputation.

marry and divorce (at least) 2 actors.

fist-fight 5 costars.

after completing the master actor aspiration, gradually lose all fame.

6: penguin ☂

there’s a lot you can say about your childhood, but you can’t say it wasn’t comfortable. with all the trust fund and nepotism you could ask for, what’s there to lose? oh. oh, wait, this trust fund isn’t bottomless, actually. uh oh. better pick up a couple side hustles to keep the lights on.

stats:

traits: snob, mean, materialistic aspiration: mansion baron career: business career (investor branch) max skills: nectar making, fishing

requirements:

never work a job until young adulthood.

spend all or almost all of your inheritance immediately after moving out (have <1500 simoleons).

start selling nectar and fish on the side.

adopt or have 1 solo science baby. be enemies with all of your neighbors but have a max relationship with your child.

have 5 on-and-off woohoo partners but never a real relationship. once you reach mid-adulthood (not young adulthood), you may marry one of your woohoo partners who’s always secretly been in love with you.

7: mr. freeze 🧊

your eccentric parent doted on you, but school was miserable. at least you had one friend, your best friend. as you got older, you got shy about your developing feelings for them—little did you know, they were in love with you too. you got married and everything was perfect. and then they died. you’ll dedicate your entire life to bringing them back, no matter the cost.

stats:

traits: gloomy, perfectionist, family-oriented aspiration: soulmate career: scientist max skills: all skills associated with making ambrosia

requirements:

be disliked by at least 3 classmates as a child/teen and have only 1 friend.

become soulmates with the friend, get married, and move to mt. komorebi. when at least 1 of your children ages up into a child, your spouse dies.

you quit your job to focus solely on making ambrosia to bring your spouse back. you can rejoin the scientist career when this is complete. if you need money, start selling household items.

you become increasingly distant with your child(ren), too focused on your goal. your relationship with them suffers greatly.

you cannot have any romantic relationship with another sim ever. even if your revived spouse can’t forgive you…

8: joker 🤡

when you watch your parent sob while baking ten cakes in a row, saying it’ll bring your other parent back from the dead, the best way to cope is turning it into a stand-up routine, right? you’ve used comedy to mask the darkness in you your whole life. might as well try to profit off it. also, your vampire obsession is kind of off-putting.

stats:

traits: goofball, evil, hates children aspiration: joke star career: entertainer (comedian branch) max skills: comedy, mischief, vampire lore

requirements:

as a child, get a’s in school and be in the drama club. have a forgotten birthday when becoming a teen, the final straw. quit the drama club, become disliked/enemies with all of your friends, and become a d student.

move to san myshuno.

reach a two-star celebrity level from comedy.

never marry and have an accidental child with a fan. all children you have must be accidental. like your parent before you, you cannot connect with your children and have a difficult dynamic with all of them.

have a -100 relationship with a vampire. have a negative interaction at least once a week. non-occult alternative: make it a human goth sim. lmao.

9: two-face 🌗

despite absent parenting, you were voted most likely to succeed in high school and graduated at the top of your class. your goals are simple and attainable: become leader of the free world. but your promising political career is nipped in the bud when your entire life is ruined. disgraced, secluded, and battling two sides of yourself, you turn to other career options.

stats:

traits: self-assured, erratic, overachiever aspiration: goal oriented, public enemy career: politics (politician branch), criminal career (boss branch) max skills: charisma, research & debate

requirements:

as a child, receive a future cube as a gift from a parent. every major decision you make besides the requirements have to be made with the future cube. no takesies backsies.

make all a’s in elementary and high school and win prom royalty.

marry your teenage sweetheart straight out of high school. have only 1 child.

reach level 5 of the politics career, then your sim is turned into either a werewolf or vampire (player’s choice—or flip a coin!) against their will (you’ll have to pretend). non-occult alternative: you’re caught in a cheating scandal that ruins your career.

you’re forced to quit your job, get divorced, move to a non-city world with your child, and join the criminal career.

10: catwoman 🐈

your parent was not an easy person to live with. they may have not minded your habit of stealing from school, but you couldn’t take it anymore. you return to the city with a plan to get rich quick, but you’re no crime boss. you’re doing this on your own terms, playing for nobody’s team but your own. even if someone keeps trying to poke their nose in your family’s business.

stats:

traits: kleptomaniac, cat lover, adventurous aspiration: fabulously wealthy career: retail employee, thief max skills: rock climbing, knitting

requirements:

your non-criminal parent dies before you reach teenhood.

have a gloomy childhood friend you lose touch with in your teen years. as young adults, the friend has become a secret agent investigating your family. they are enemies with your criminal parent. you and the friend also become enemies.

you’re working as a retail employee, but where you’re really getting your money is robbery. initiate 2 romantic relationships with rich sims to rob their house.

eventually become lovers with your friend-turned-enemy.

adopt 3 stray cats.

[silver-crowned-riders]

I need to start unfollowing all these criminals and evil teams yall are IDIOTS!

Except us. We're the ones who get it ^_^

( 500 GAZILLION notes )

🐲 route-1-full-evos Follow

Yo that guy doesn't have running shoes let's fucking kill him

( 173,688 notes )

R rocket-grunt Follow

Guyssss Giovanni in that new released court footage... someone help me... 🧎💘💔🚑

R rocket-grunt Follow

WINKING AT THE FUCKING JURY????? SIR

R rocket-grunt Follow

I KNOW he's saving a luxury ball just for me

🌲 nerdy-old-man Follow

None of these words are in the pokedex :(

( 309 notes )

🦔 super-duper-sonic-sandshrew-fan Follow

Hi guys I'm Timmy this is my intro post! I'm 10 and love video games. Team Plasma took me in when I was 6 and I haven't seen my family in years but I'm NOT brainwashed!!! I'm not!!!!! My Pokemon are my lvl 11 Tepig and my lvl 30 Rotom assigned to me that keeps a lookout on me :)

#intro post #team plasma #sonic the sandshrew

( 3 notes )

🐈‍⬛ devious-liepard Follow

Guys can we stop like having evil team leaders try to employ actual literal children. Like how are these kids on Rotomblr in the first place??

🌙 umbral-charm Follow

Okay I'm sick of seeing this post on my dash. The trainer's journey starts at 10 obviously these people can make their own decisions 🙄🙄🙄 you are the same people going on about Team Rocket letting teenagers become murderers its NOT A BIG DEALLL. Evil teams these days are so straight laced it's insane.

💀 layla-used-hex Follow

All of you are wrong I joined an evil team on Club Penguin when I was 9 and I swear whatever kid was running that was a bigger menace than Ghetsis. Leave them alone n they'll accomplish more than Giovanni did

💀 layla-used-hex Follow

Friendly reminder since this is making rounds again that the first two ppl here ended up being Faba sock puppet accounts. Because it's always Faba. It's always fucking Faba.

💰 black-market-posts-evaluator Follow

50,000 Pokedollars

#top reward posts #evaluated posts #trainers journey discourse #no arguments in the notes please arc I already had to deal with that on the last aq*a m*gma post for weeks

( 20,753 notes )