#that was foul of me srry

[featherwhiskered]

dallas calling johnny "johnny cake" is all fun and games until you realize a johnny cake is a type of pancake.

....the only pancake is johnny after that beam crushed him

[norafaye]

UM HELLO?!?! HES SO BOYFRIEND GAWD DAMN 😮‍💨

‘til my throat memorizes it’s shape.

[tiredofthehumanlife]

He bloody kissed me😱

Barbie dolls: rosekiller x you (Evan rosier, Barty crouch jr, and your gay ass)

Words: 6.7k ish

Summary: gn!reader btw but so basically Barty and Evan decide to include you in their sex life so yeah

Warnings: allusions to Jegulus, Barty gets called a fucktoy, choking, Barty is v submissive and then Evan is like dominant?? And then r is like the medium between the two, KNIVES KNIVES, blood lots of blood, they lap up the blood like hounds, Barty cried during sex but like he's chill dont worry about him, handcuffs Barty is restrained, Voldemort mentioned, Evan quite enjoys degrading Barty, lots of praise, choking with a belt, Barty is the only one who cums, I don't think you people read these, Barty gets called a slut, cumslut, and a whore, cuckolding undertones srry ig, Barty's comes in his pants, is it comes or cums?, Barty's happy trail is mentioned so often it deserves a space in the credits, scarring, cannibalism undertones (they aren't under they're very present), AFTERCARE INCLUDED SUCK MY DICK ITS PART OF SEX, if you know me 😐not anymore

Being friends with Barty and Evan was enjoyable. They were funny, they were nice on occasion, however they were also insane. More specifically they were insane in bed. It wasn't even something you wanted to know. Everything you learned about their sex life was involuntary.

Barty would come in with a new bandage and an impossible to recreate grin. You'd get worried that he got into trouble and ask his what happened. He give you a bright smile and mutter 'ask my boyfriend'. You fell for it everytime, too. Your love for your friends often trumped your common sense. Always so worried for him you'd forget he was a physchopath dating a psychopath. He had shown up with bruises before, a hickey, a bruise on his arm in the shape of a hand, yada yada. If you didn't know them as well as you wished you didn't you would've thought Evan was beating Barty without his consent. Unfortunately you did know them, you knew they were a match made in hell. Bruises and cuts before, sure but never this bad.

From the second Barty entered the Great Hall, you were zoned in on his neck. A long blue stripe spanned across his throat, with more purple in a squarish shape. Evan was happily holding onto Barty's arm over his shoulders. They split when they reached the table, Barty coming to sit next to you and Evan across from him. Dorcas and Pandora were deep in a conversation about the way someone would go about turning into a tree. Regulus was ignoring all of you, deeply focused on his breakfast and the book in his lap. You gripped onto Barty's shoulder staring at his neck.

"Barty, what happened to your neck?" You whispered. Evan snorted across from you. You sent him a glare, assuming he was laughing at Barty.

"Belt." Barty said, reaching around you to steal a sausage off Regulus' plate.

"A belt? Barty, what? Who the hell did you get into a fight with? Who rips off their belt in the middle of a tossle? The fuck is wrong these people?" You started glancing around the Hall to see if you could find someone with a black eye or two.

"Who you looking for, baby?" Evan asked. You turned back to the table to stare at Evan. He raised an eyebrow at you. You looked between Barty's cocky grin and Evan's teasing look. The realization finally hit you, your shoulders slumping. You sighed and ripped your hand away from Barty's shoulder, wiping it off on your shirt.

"You two are filthy. Truly." Barty shrugged. Evan sneakily pulled a slice of toast off of Dorcas' plate. She continued arguing with Pandora about human trees.

"Well you can't lie, you think it's hot." Barty said, leaning in to your personal space. "Don't you, baby" You felt your ears go red. You stared at Barty's smug face. You reached up and pushed him away from you.

"No comment." Evan laughed at you.

"See that's basically a yes." Evan muttered. You shook your head.

"I think you two are disgusting little parasites. It's filthy and foul." You said, crossing your arms. Barty leaned his head on your shoulder, blinking up at you.

"I love it when you talk sexy." You shoved Barty off of you. Evan shrugged. You three went to your regular conversation over your assignments, most of which Barty didn't do and still aced the class.

In fact it wasn't until a week later they brought up their sex life to you, again. This time you shockingly hadn't fallen for their tricks. You were all piled in the boys' dorm. Dorcas, Pandora, and Marlene were all sat on Evan's bed. Marlene was painting Pandora's nails, not that she was very good at it. Dorcas had her head resting on top of Marlene's thigh, 'resting her eyes' as she said. Regulus had laid down for a nap hours ago. He had a very exhausting day, having to speak to Potter and all that. His curtains were drawn and you were glad the others had all silently agreed to stay quiet while speaking. You were sat on Barty's bed, which was next to Evan's. Barty and Evan were sitting next to you. Evan had his head rested on your shoulder, as him and Barty quietly whispered to each other. You were focused on your book, blocking out everyone's voices.

You kept your full attention on the story, the words sweeping you away into another world. Just as things were ramping up, a fight sparking between two characters, Marlene interrupted your train of thought. Her voice dragging you out of the world.

"Are you really going to let them do that next to you?" You gave her a confused look, tilting your head.

"Do what?" As you spoke you turned to look next to you. You found your boys with their tongues down each others throats. Barty had his leg thrown over Evan's lap, pushing Evan's shirt up. Evan yanked at Barty's hair. You were suddenly aware of the wet noises right next to your ear, their moans sending a chill of disgust down your spine.

"Oh! Boys, cut it out." You swatted them with your book. They broke apart sitting straight again. Evan pulled his shirt down. You noticed them both readjusting their pants, much to your dissapointment. You muttered about how nasty they were as you turned back to your book.

"Nothing was stopping you from joining, sweetheart." Evan whispered. You shuttered. You stared moved back to read where yu left off, though now you were unfocused. You could only think of the image of Barty running his nails down Evan's stomach. Evan biting down on Barty's tongue, his hand edging towards the band of Barty's pants. You kept restarting on your paragraph, trying your hardest to focus on the words. All you could think about was them. Within a second you realized your disgust was a red herring. You pretended to gag, you called them gross, you told them they were filthy rabbits, you told them to get a room, but really deep down you were...

attracted to them.

Oh god. Oh god, Oh god. You were attracted to not only your best friends, but your best friends who were dating. Not what do you do. Tell them? Have them stare at you with their 'I'm actively sitting next to my boyfriend' eyes? Ignore it? Just have them be all gross and loving and stuff in front of you all the time? You sighed deeply. It appears your best choice of action is to ignore it. You felt Evan wrap his arm around yours, using it as a pillow.

So you did ignore it, mostly. You really just stared at them wistfully as they went about loving each other and leaving the evidence of their long nights out in the open. It felt like they were taunting you with their hickeys, bruises, and kisses. Their gentle touches, showing the other they loved them, burning your own skin. They were completely clueless, just being in a happy realationship. All the while their best friend was yearning for them to touch you in the way they did each other. They did seem to catch the shift in tension. They hadn't said anything yet, but they'd share glances with each other.

Finally they did sit you down under the impression you were meeting up to get Regulus to confess his feelings. Barty held onto both your hands as he revealed that this meeting wasn't about Regulus, it was about you. Evan asked what was wrong, what was going on. You gave them both a confused look, lying and saying 'what i have no ideaaaaaa'. They both glared at you, giving you time to gather your own courage. You three sat in silence as you sucked in a deep breath.

"Okay yeah, well so basically-" You paused suddenly feeling like you should lie more to get yourself out of this terrible situation. You stared at the dormitory floor, wishing you were anywhere but Barty's bed.

"I am totally into these two hufflepuffs. I just I can't pick which one I want more. I just- It's all I can think about. And I know I've been distracted. But I will be working on focusing on my friends more. I know it must've been putting a strain on our friendship but I'm working on it." Lies, but hey why communicate when you could fib. Barty squeezed your hands. Evan sighed and rolled his eyes. So mayhaps they saw through it. Mayhaps they'll ignore it and let you slide.

"Do you genuinely think you're good at lying or do you just think we're stupid?" Evan asked. You gave him a confused look. You shook your head.

"I don't- I have no idea what you're talking about right-"

"Be serious."

"Okay so I lied. I'm a fibber. What about it?" You caved the second Barty spoke up. You had the backbone of an uncooked spaghetti noddle, but you still gave it a shot.

"Can you just tell us what's going on? You keep being weird." Evan groaned, crossing his arms. You sighed and pulled your hands out of Barty's.

"Alright fine, so maybe the Hufflepuffs were you. But maybe we don't need to talk about that or address that at all. Maybe ignoring it all was the friends we made along the way." Barty grabbed onto your hands again, Evan squatting down in front of you.

"Well, darling, have you considered that maybe we're totally into you too?" Barty asked, lightly squeezing your hands. Evan rested his hands on your knees.

"Obviously not." Evan muttered.

"Listen, the feelings are mutual. We've discovered this now. We're also sitting on a bed." Barty gestured to his sheets underneath you. Evan scoffed.

"Of course you're suggesting intercourse at a time like this." You whispered.

"You're not saying no." Evan pointed out.

"I am not, I am saying though, not now. Give me like a week or so to wrap my head around all this jazz." And with that you left to think. You retracted. You stayed quiet and ignored you friends. All of your energy put into figuring out what you wanted to do. It ended up only taking you about 3 days of silence for you to realize what you wanted to do. Which was to fuck them for a month straight, but you'd settle for a few minutes.

Within a flash of an eye you were searching for them all over the castle. You evenyually found them, sitting on the couch with Barty's head resting on Evan's shoulder. They were both decked in their pajamas, cozily curled up against each other. You stood in front of them waiting on them to look up at you. Evan did first, Barty's eyes closed. As they both stared at you, you steeled yourself.

"I know what I want." Evan nodded, giving you encouragement to finish your thought. "I want you to show me everything." They both looked at each other before standing. Evan latched onto your hand before grabbing onto Barty by the back of his shirt. Evan dragged you both up the stairs, his grip gentler on you. You were smiling the whole way up the staircase. Barty caught a glimpse of your face and blew you a kiss.

Barty moved to his bed, taking you with him. He laid down on his back and patted the mattress next to him. You sat next to him and watched him unbutton his shirt. Evan squatted down next to his bed digging under it. Barty smiled up at you pointing to his lips before puckering them. You met his demands, leaning down to him. Barty quickly buried his hand on the back of your head, tugging the hair between his fingers. You groaned into his mouth. Barty took the opertunity to slip his tongue past your lips. You felt Barty's hand leave your head, only to be replaced by another hand. Evan pulled your head back, your throat being fully exposed. Evan dipped his head down, dragging his teeth down the column of your neck. You heard Barty sigh under you both. Evan pulled back and set a shoebox on top of Barty's chest, using him a table. Evan pulled the lid off, glancing up at you to make sure your attention was on him.

"This is most of everything, babe. We're still learning what's enjoyable and what's not. I thought we'd start here. Barty is our test subject, for today. Trust me, he wont mind." Evan said. You leaned forward peering into the box. What you found wasn't really all that intresting, a belt, lube, condoms, a knife, handcuffs that looked particularly cheap, but it was more the gaurentee of what was to come, Barty. You felt a grin grow, looking up at Evan. He nodded.

"Knew you'd be curious. So here's my preposition, I'll do something and you watch. Then if you wanted to try, I could talk you through it, yeah?" You nodded excitedly at Evan. Evan removed the box from Barty, instead setting it next to you on the bed. Barty sat up and slipped his shirt off entirely, dropping it to the floor. Evan straddled Barty's hips. Barty pinned his hands underneath Evan's legs. Barty looked giddy. You sat next to them, watching them intently. Evan sighed, running his hands up and down Barty's chest.

"Barty doesn't really need much of anything, he's truly just a fuck toy. He quite enjoys choking, but the belt is really something that needs more buildup." You listened intently to Evan. You wanted to pay your full attention to Evan but he kept tweaking Barty's nipples while talking. Evan slid his hand up to Barty's throat. Evan squeezed, watching Barty's grin grow. Barty stared up at Evan. His eyes slipped away from Evan's to yours. Evan squeezed harder making Barty's eyes roll back.

"How do you know you're not hurting him, more than he wants I mean?" You asked, looking away from Barty to look at Evan. Evan smiled at you, glad you were excited to learn.

"He'll tap me three times if he wants me to stop, or he'll say 'snakes'. " Evan turned his focus back to Barty. Barty's mouth had gone slack, staring up at the ceiling. Evan looked back to you.

"Do you wanna try?" You felt a wave of warmth pass over you at the question. You nodded. You were slightly concerned that you'll do it wrong. Barty's face and Evan's muttered praises as you took Evan's place. You straddled Barty as he breathed harder, catching his breath.

You felt his bulge pressing into your leg as you settled your hands on his stomach. Evan sat where you were, next to the box, off to the side. Evan rubbed your shoulder as you traced Barty's happy trail. Evan gently grabbed the back of your hand pulling it up towards Barty's neck. You looked to Barty, uncertain that he didn't just enjoy choking because Evan was the one doing it. Barty smiled up at you, nodding eagerly. Evan pressed a kiss to your shoulder, placing your hand on Barty's throat. Evan took his hand off yours, giving you a moment to pull away if you needed. He placed his hand back on yours, squeezing on the sides.

"Squeeze him like that, yeah?" You nodded, mimicking Evan's force. Barty was smiling at you the whole time, egging you on.

"Harder. Pretty please, darling?" Barty muttered. You glanced at Evan, out of the corner of your eye. Evan nodded, reasueingly rubbing your arm. He ran his hand down to yours, showing you how to add more pressure properly. When Evan removed his hand and you took over, Barty moaned. He opened his mouth again. You wanted to lean over to Evan and ask why Barty did that but it felt mean. You were enjoying the look on Barty's face. You looked over at Evan with a growing grin. Evan smiled at you.

"Yeah?" You nodded, looking back down at Barty. You realeased your grip. Barty opened his eyes watching as your hand returned to his happy trail. Evan ignored Barty's whining, focusing on you in stead.

"What's next? You wanna pick from the box?" Evan asked. You nodded, although you were starting to feel like Evan was babying you. You leaned over Barty to look inside the box. You pulled the handcuffs out, showing them to Evan. He took the out of your hands.

"Barty, hands up." Barty raised his arms from his sides. Evan pulled the handcuffs through the top part of the headboard. You helped move Barty's hands to the handcuffs. Evan pulled Barty's wrists into them, locking the cuffs. Evan noticed the worring look on your face.

"He can get out of them if he wants to, they're actually a toy from like a random gas station in the middle of nowhere." You looked back to see Barty waving around his free hand. Evan tsked pulling Barty's hand back towards the cuffs. Barty grinned, leaving his hands above his head. He sent you a wink as you looked back into the box. Evan looked with you, curious it see what you would pull out next. You glanced over at him, meeting his eyes. He gave you an encouraging look as you reached into the shoebox. You pulled out the knife, holding the handle out to Evan. Evan smiled at you, taking the Knife out of your hands.

Now that you were actually looking at it you could tell it was less of a knife and more of a dagger. The handle and sheath was green, tiny gemstones forming flowers. If you didn't have an impatient Barty bucking his hips up into yours, you would've marveled at the beauty.

Evan pulled the sheath off the dagger, who knew a knife could get prettier with its clothes off? It was very pretty, two small slivers of space in the middle dragging from the handle down towards the tip. If you were Barty, you'd be quite excited. Evidently he was, moaning at the sound of Evan pulling the knife out of the sheath. Evan looked up at you to make sure you were paying attention before moving the dagger towards Barty. Evan gently dragged it over his skin, doing nothing more than enticing Barty.

"Pay attention, baby. You have to be gentle. You don't want to hurt him, more than usual." You followed along, watching Evan's hands. Evan placed one hand further up Barty's chest, the other one spinning the blade around. Evan pointed the tip down, pressing the metal into Barty's stomach. He dragged it down slowly, a small trail of blood following it. Barty groaned. You ignored him, focusing on Evan. Evan looked up at you as he pulled the bloody blade away, showing you the small mark he left. It was barely two inches big, off to the side. You stared at the red on the side of blade. Something deep inside you told you to lean forward and run your tongue over the blade. You didn't.

You gently took the blade out of Evan's hand. He nodded at you, whispering something about 'being good'. You didn't catch it but felt it was an inappropriate time to bring up your chronic 'huh?'-ing. You stared down at Barty, checking with him again if he was ready. Barty smiled at you, bucking his hips up. You groaned and shot your hands down to his hips. You pushed them down into the mattress.

"Sit still." You ordered, your tone biting at Barty's grin. He wanted to roll his eyes but your and Evan's wicked smiles made him reconsider. Barty stayed still, waiting. You brought the knife down towards his stomach. Off to the left side of his bellybutton closer to his hipbone. You watched Barty's reaction as you made a small cut in a downwards angle. Evan encouraged you with a kiss to your cheek as Barty whimpered underneath you. You watched the cut dribble out blood, a swam of excitement passing over your skin making you flush more. You looked up to Barty's contorted face. His eyebrows pushed up, his teeth digging into his inner cheek, eyes squeezed shut.

"Good?" You muttered, patting his face. Barty opened his eyes, looking up at your concerned face. You saw tears swelling in his waterline. He nodded egearly, flashing his teeth to settle your worries.

You pulled back, looking back at the cut you made. It was smaller than Evan's on Barty's other hip. You glanced over at that one to compare the two. Just to make sure you were doing it right. You noticed a scar under Evan's cut. It was two letters, ER made out of small cuts. You glanced over at Evan to see his cocky grin. He raised an eyebrow at you. You turned back to your cut, deciding you'd make a similar mark. Although you expected it to only last for tonight, a wand's flick and it's gone. You pressed the blade to the end of the last cut, pulling it up. Barty whined again, tugging at his cuffs.

You pulled the blade back admiring your downward pointing arrow. You stared at the blood making a mess on Barty's skin. You checked on Evan, finding him watching the blade with all the intensity of a man watching his best friend butcher his boyfriend. Consensually, of course. You glanced at Barty's face, seeing his tears rolling down his cheeks in a mess. He seemed to sense your concern immediately speaking to you.

"Good. 's good. So good, please keep going, please." His words pushed against each other, mixing together from his desperation. You focused back on his side, wiping away some of blood that was obstructing your view. You made 4 more cuts, turning the downward arrow into a small heart. With each stroke of your hands, Barty let out a whine. Evan started to coo at Barty, the longer you spent at his hip. Evan leaned towards Barty's face, brushing his hair away from his sweaty forehead. Evan muttered to Barty degradation in his soft tone.

It was quite confusing, his tone made it sound nice but when you focused on Evan's words you felt sick to your stomach. When you finally pulled back from Barty's hip there was a lovely little heart on the opposite side of Evan's initials. You looked up to see Barty's face wet with his tears and his eyes red. You creened, leaning forward to kiss Barty's wet cheeks.

"You're such a good boy, Barty. I'm so proud of you, doing such a good job for us." You muttered in his ear as Evan called him a slut in the other. Barty whined at the contrasting words. You pulled back from his face, looking down at the heart. The surrounding area was red with blood and flushed pain. You met Evan's eyes. He left a kiss on Barty's cheekbone before leaning towards you. He stared down at the heart, complimenting your good work. While you enjoyed how the cuts had effected Barty, his bulge pressing into your inner thigh desperately hard, you liked seeing his blood more. You wanted to lick Barty's stomach clean. You stared at Evan. He looked at you confused.

"Can I lick it?" You muttered, scared to ask much louder than a breath. Evan stared at you for a second as a grin that would make Voldemort himself quiver with fear. He gave you a small nod. You looked to Barty, his chest was heaving, his eyes still red and his arms still held tightly above his head. He nodded aggressively, trying to get his message across as fast as possible.

"Do it." Barty whispered. Evan tsked at Barty.

"Manners, Barty. Be nice to our quest." Evan chided Barty, pushing his hair back again. Barty nodded against Evan's hand.

"I'll be good. I'll be good, I promise. Rosie, I promise." Barty whined, his words mashing together again. You ignored Evan's coos as you dropped your head to Barty's hip. You tentatively swiped the tip of your tongue over a small drop of blood away from the cuts. You heard Barty moan as your eyes rolled back from his metallic taste. You were no longer taking small steps, he was too good to not spoil. You flattened your tongue out licking up every drop of Barty's blood. Loud moans rolled off Barty's tongue as you continued your work. You loved the extreme intimacy of it, also the bloody taste but that's a separate matter.

You felt Evan's hand met the back of your head again, pulling your face away from Barty's stomach. His eyes snagged on the dark shadow smeared over the bottom half of your face.

He always scolded you for being a messy eater. Evan never considered he'd find your freaky grin splattered with his boyfriend's blood so attractive. The room had gotten darker somewhere between choking Barty and now, though you weren't sure when too focused on Barty and Evan.

So no Evan couldn't see the exact shade of red on your face but he could still taste the copper on your lips. Barty told Evan he was a messy kisser, clacking teeth and sloppily slipping his tongue into Barty's mouth. But Barty had never seen Evan like this.

Evan was swiping his tongue everywhere but your mouth it seemed. He was rabid, more than usual. Evan was messily and harshly kissing you, his hand holding onto your hair tightly. Evan was moaning into your lips as he tried to get more of the coppery taste of Barty's blood in his mouth. Evan liked the taste the Barty, but he thinks he might like the taste of Barty more when he takes it from your mouth.

You pulled back from the kiss, dropping to Barty's hip again. You swiped your mouth over the surrounding area of Barty's cuts, occasionally tracing the lines with the tip of your tongue. The feeling of warmth from your mouth around his wounds made Barty wail in pleasure. He wanted to yank at your hair as much as Evan already has.

Barty pulled at the cuffs above his head. You lifted your head, looking up at Barty. He understood why Evan pounced on you like that before. The sight of his blood smeared across your mouth made him want to kiss it off like Evan already had. You leaned in towards Barty's face. Barty could smell the copper on you as you tilted your head. Barty learched his head forward, colliding his lips with yours.

He moaned at the taste of his own blood invading his mouth. Evan rubbed your back as he moved behind you. You nipped at Barty's bottom lip. He messily tried to lick at the blood around your mouth as he kissed you. You pulled away from his lips, sliding down to his neck. You swirled your tongue around him as you dragged your teeth over his skin.

Barty moaned, yanking at the cuffs holding his arms up again. You slid your free hand up Barty's throat, over his chin, and to his mouth. You slipped two of your fingers past his lips. Barty reacted instantly, swiping his tongue over your fingertips. You could feel the blood on your face smearing onto Barty's neck as you made yet another hickey. You pulled back letting his skin go. Evan helped you sit up straight, holding on to you by your waist. You pointed the tip of the dagger at Barty, making him whimper around your fingers.

"You'll be a good little slut and listen to us, won't you?" Your tone was edging on pity. Barty nodded, his movement restrained by your fingers pressing into his tongue. Evan pulled his chin over your shoulder, pressing his lips to your ear.

"You're doing good. Do you want me to show you the belt now?" You grinned as you nodded. Evan lightly kissed you before focusing back on the box. He plucked the dagger from your hands, much to your disappointment. You pulled your hand away from Barty's mouth back to his chest. Evan put the knife back it's rightful sheath before taking the belt out from the box. He tapped Barty's chin. Barty lifted his head up. Evan slid the belt behind Barty's head. He glanced at you as he slipped the end through the buckle and pulled. It wasn't tight enough to squeeze Barty yet but it was close enough that it wouldn't slip off. Evan held the end of the belt out towards you. You took it, still straddling Barty's hips. Evan moved behind you, running his hands up and down your back as he whispered to you.

"Now pull." You listened to Evan, yanking on the strap. The leather around Barty's neck tightened as his jaw went slack.

"Good. Tighter." You turned your head, looking back at Evan. He gave you a nod. You pulled on the end of the belt again, this time gentler. Barty's eyes rolled back before he refocused on staring at you. He looked like he was going to cry again. Evan hummed running his hands around from your back to your stomach.

"Release it." You loosened your grip on the strap. The belt around Barty's throat quickly loosened as he sucked in a breath. Barty's chest heaved up and down as he caught up with his lungs. Evan nodded against your shoulder, pulling you closer to him. After Barty finally evened his breaths Evan whispered to you again.

"Again. Pull." You stared into Barty's eyes as you pulled again, this time getting the right tightness on the first try. Barty let out a strangled groan. You watched Barty's face as Evan's hands traveled upwards. Your shirt gathered around his wrists as Evan moved his hands up towards your nipples. Evan pressed a kiss to your temple.

"Release." You let the end of the belt slide through your hands. Barty gasped as his breath returned. Evan nodded. As Evan gave you his repetitive instructions, you found the pace of the pulling and releasing. You were able to torment Barty's airway without Evan's instruction. Evan seemed to be quite proud of this, kissing along the curve of your neck. Barty was enjoying this more than the two of you combined, his eyes rolling back and moans slipping past his lips everytime you tightened the belt.

You liked it. A lot. You liked watching the belt dig into Barty's skin. You liked his moans. You liked his erection pressing against your leg. You liked how he left his life in your hands with the hope for pleasure. You liked how Barty's moans encouraged Evan to roll your nipples between his fingers and suck harder on your neck. You liked how Evan's motions made you grind down on Barty's lap, making Barty groan. Starting the cycle all over again.

You kept your pace with the belt, giving Barty time to catch his breath and not die. You leaned back against Evan's chest. You pulled your arm back, resting your hand on the back of Evan's head. You watched Barty's eyes focus on you again, staring at Evan's hand as it slid down your chest. You yanked on the belt again. Barty tilted his head back, whimpering loudly. Your hips moved on their own, grinding down on Barty again.

Evan groaned in your ear, dipping his hand down to the waistband of your pants. You shook your head against Evan, dropping your hand from his hair to the back of his hand. You dragged his fingers back to your chest. Evan easily accepted this, going back to tweaking your nipples. You keep pulling and releasing the belt while you bucked your hips against Barty's. His pajama pants were thin, which made it all the more exciting. You released the belt again, giving Barty time to catch up with the world again. Evan pulled his chin over your shoulder to stare down at Barty.

"You're loving all the attention, aren't you? You're such a pathetic fucking cumslut." Evan mocked Barty's moans, as Barty yanked at his handcuffs again. Just as Barty was about to bite a quip back to Evan, you yanked on the end of the belt. The leather dug into the skin of Barty's neck. You realized now why Barty's neck was always bruised, he talked too much. Evan chuckled. His laugh vibrated through you, his chest pressed against your back.

"Look at you, learning so well. Shutting Barty up like that, I'm proud of you." Evan whispered, his lips pressing against your ear. Your grip on the belt faultered from your shiver. Barty let in a fast breath. Evan tsked next to you, holding onto your hand with his. He tightened the belt, pecking your jaw.

Evan turned his attention back to your nipples, as you focused back on grinding down onto Barty's lap. You picked but the pace of tightening and releasing easily. As Barty started to get more desperate, bucking his hips up, you quickened the pace. Evan licked up your neck, nipping under your chin. You moaned, dropping your head back on Evan's shoulder. Through the split seconds of peace, Barty liked the image of you grinding against him with his boyfriend sucking at your neck.

Your tightest squeeze around his neck, coupled with your loudest moan from Evan, was what pushed Barty over the edge. Wetting his boxers and thin pajama pants. His head was light from the lack of air and the heavy pleasure. You dropped the tail end of the belt, giving all your attention to Evan. You pulled him back from your neck, meeting his lips feveriously.

Barty watched you both intently as he ignored the feeling of his underwear sticking to him. You nipped at Evans bottom lip as he slipped his tongue past your lips. You dragged your teeth over it, before pulling back to stare down at Barty with a mocking look.

"Awe did our little whore cum in his pants? All untouched. Pitiful." You mocked his blissed outface. Barty lolled his head to the side, letting it rest on his bicep. You gently dragged your finger over his happy trail. Evan moved out from behind you, sitting next to Barty's tired body. You traced around the little heart by Barty's hip.  Barty let out a whimper, nuzzling his face against Evan's hand.

"Yeah? Baby's tired?" Evan said, in a high pitched voice you'd used on a dog with a broken leg. Barty made a pathetic noise, nodding his head. You gently slipped your fingers between Barty's bruised neck and the leather belt. You pulled, slipping the belt off of him. Barty closed his eyes, leaning further towards Evan. Evan reached up to the headboard, releasing Barty's wrists. Barty dropped his arms, if you didn't know better you'd mock him for his broken marionette position. You rolled the belt up, gently placing it in the box. You held your hand out for the handcuffs from Evan, dropping those into the box as well.

You helped Evan, help Barty up onto his feet. You both gently lead Barty to the bathroom, taking the box with you.

When you three entered, turning on the light, you looked to the mirror. You found your face was still tinted red from Barty, as long as your hands. You looked over Evan. He had a red tint too, spefically over his lips, you wondered if he'd still taste like copper. Barty was the worst of all, he looked like he tried to make great friends with a bear. His neck would most definitely be bruising, his hair was sweaty and pointing in odd directions, his own blood smeared and dried around his bottom lip and down his throat. He had a smile on though, gazing at you both with loving eyes.

Evan turned both bathtub knobs to the max, dipping his hand under the water before tinkering with the temperature.

"Oh, Evan Darling, where is your wand?" Evan gestured to his bed, helping Barty step out of his now soaked pants. You quickly fetched it before handing it over to Evan. Evan pointed the tip at Barty's stomach. Barty grumbled, yanking the wand out of Evan's hands.

"I want the scar. It's a little heart, how could I not love it?" Evan hummed at Barty's bargaining. Evan glanced over at you. You shrugged and held your hands up, instead focusing on making a warm bubble bath for Barty.

"I suppose." Evan muttered. You know if Barty had access to all of his Barty brain he'd 'yippee' though now you settled from his little sigh of triumph. Evan pointed his wand back at Barty's cuts, quickly scaring over them like they've been there for years. Barty smiled happily running his fingers over the new heart scar. Evan turned back to you, finding the bath dyed acid green and a pile of bubbles on top. Evan gave you a grimace. You scoffed at him, latching on to Barty's hand.

"Have you never heard of fun? Whimsy? Joy and all things nice? Party pooper." You muttered as you helped Barty into the bath. Barty grinned up at Evan.

"It's great. Love, love, love green." Evan rolled his eyes at Barty. You both assisted Barty through his bathing routine, praising him for how well he did tonight. Evan focused mainly on Barty's hair routine as you whispered to Barty appreciation for his hard work. You switched roles when it came to washing Barty's body.

You worked on the stains, being gentle to his bruises. Evan's praises made Barty hide his face in your arm, as you rinsed him off.

As you drained the tub Evan set out pajamas for Barty on the sink counter. You helped dry off Barty. You asked if he wanted to blow dry his hair, Barty said it was 'too mother fucking loud'. Evan dressed Barty, sealing his new outfit with a peck to Barty's cheek. Barty hopped up on the counter, watching as Evan wiped your face clean. You cleaned his chin with the same wet rag.

Then you three brushed your teeth, Barty trying to fight you over the sink territory. You did not amuse him, rolling your eyes at him and moving to Evan's sink. Barty tucked himself into Evan's bed. Evan washed off the dagger in his sink as you scrubbed under your nails.

"Are you guys going to come give me love or just stand in the bathroom all day." Barty yelled across the room into the bathroom. Evan scoffed and wiped the knife off with a towel. Evan leaned his head out the bathroom door.

"Barty, respectfully, shut your fucking mouth." Evan turned back to the dagger, sheathing it and putting back in its place.

"Make me, bitch." Evan stared up at the ceiling when Barty's voice chimed again. You continued to run the tiny brush under your nails as you stood in the bathroom door frame.

"We're almost done, Baby. Just be patient." You said towards the Barty shaped pile of blankets. You moved back to the sink, rinsing the suds off. Evan closed the shoebox, flicking his wand at it. The box flew out the bathroom and tucked itself under Evan's bed, as you assumed.

"I'm no good at that." Barty said, although it was muffled from the 900 blankets stacked on top of him. Evan kissed your cheek, smiling at your now unstained hands.

"We can tell." Evan muttered. Evan turned the bathroom light off on his way out. He dragged you towards his bed, pointing at the mattress.

"I heard that."

"I know." Evan rolled his eyes as he walked over to Barty's bed. You tucked yourself into Evan's bed. Barty quickly snuggled up against you, wrapping his arms around you, squeezing tightly. He intertwined your legs.

"Alright give me a little oxygen." You whispered. Barty grumbled, loosening his grip. You glanced over at Evan watching him swish his wand at the mattress. He came back muttering about clean sheets. Evan spooned Barty, reaching over him to hold your hand. Barty fell asleep first, snoring loudly. You were next, falling asleep feeling Evan press a peck to your temple.

Part two

[gvtted-ratz]

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Mission Failed

Simon “Ghost” Riley x M!Reader x John “Soap” MacTavish

Last Edited: 17/03/2023

TW: slight angst, foul language, violence, blood, gore, gunshot wound, death mention

@denzellovehazelnuts: Hi! hope you have a good day! Can you do a poly "Ghost x male reader x Soap" (if you comfortable writing poly relationship) with slow burn, angst and fluff at the end? Where Ghost and Soap already in a relationship until the reader came into their team The two male thought the reader wasn't talkative around people but few weeks later, things change at first Ghost seems interesting in the male skill using gun and how fast he can run and Soap like the male sense of humour. Both of them thought it only a friendship type of things. Until the male save Ghost from the enemy on the battlefield and him laughing at Soap jokes. That when the two males known what happen to them, they weren't sure if M/n would comfortable in a relationship with them, so they start doing small things for him like making coffee or helping training,.. And M/n notice it, he even started to fall for the both of them. But he keep denying the things they did for him because he thought that what friend do. and M/n don't think he is ready for a new relationship, he wasn't sure he is good enough for them (the male got trauma from the previous relationships) (more angst please, I would like to suffer for a little bit) (・∀・) After a while, the three of them got into a mission together, everything went good until the male got shot. He thought he going to be de@d soon (only to find out that he only got shot at his leg) so M/n confessed how he feel about the two of them. (andddd I don't know what to do with the ending cause I'm ran out of idea. I would want to see how the treated each other when got into a relationship. Sorry about the grammar, English isn't my first language)

Word Count: 2,654

AO3 LINK -> HERE

Notes: hiiii! i dont do heavy angst but i did do some u know? slow burn it is!!! srry it took so long! irl things hold me back a lot. N since u wanted slow burn, n with all that uve put (about 350 words of things i can work on/with 2 get this drawn out as a full-on fic!! yay!) i had 2 like. try n put all u wanted in there so yea! hope u enjoy!! also! i threw in some other characters like gaz n roach. hope u dont mind em being in here since this is like, a mash of cod n codmw2 (canon? what cancon?) cause i rlly do wanna put some other characters in here that i find interesting n build some sort of character/personality 4 the reader. reader deserves some cool friends-2-brothers!

At first, you hadn’t wanted to join Task Force 141. You were comfortable with your position as the quiet, but light on your feet, knife specialist. Well, that wasn’t truly your title. You were just good with knives. You weren’t too shotty with a gun either. Either weapon being in your hands meant blood was going to be shed. KorTac needed those types, especially those who could use it to get in as well as out; you also couldn’t forget about using your skills to get information. Torturing the prisoners wasn’t something you particularly liked, but you were good at it too. Combining your skills with knives and guns, it truly was hell for anyone on the opposite side of your team. You also couldn’t forget that, out of the others, you were much faster. Sure, some could still beat you at times but that didn’t mean you weren’t good. Bets had been constantly taking place with you, along with others as it was one of the few things any of you could do to pass the time in a less-than-bloody manner.

The transfer from KorTac to Task Force 141 wasn’t smooth. Horangi, or Kim Hong-jin, didn’t let you go for weeks. You were part of his team, one of his men. The leader of KorTac is what most of you saw him as. He knew many of you like the back of his hand. Not to mention, a tiger can be cruel but would never devour its cubs for no reason, well, as some say. As far as you knew, because you were all together, you were a team and therefore family. While there were others who didn’t get along, out in the field, all of you had each other’s back. Very rarely did anyone get left to perish to the enemy.

With all that in mind, it took weeks for him to let you go. More or less, Laswell was the one to convince him; that is if you call bringing each plus every person in KorTac to ruins as “convincing”. She wanted you on a team she could keep tabs on you; doubting her power and skills was out of the question. Which meant leaving KorTac to ensure that everyone else was free from possible imprisonment or death was necessary.

Fitting in wasn’t too hard considering most of the people there were from all over the place. While it’s odd for a member from another team to suddenly appear on another, it didn’t bother most of the others. Just from a glance, you could tell who was into who; as well as who exactly was in a relationship. A man by the name of Ghost including another called Soap, you knew were together. Soap flirted with almost everyone, though it was more teasing and lighthearted. With Ghost though? The flirting went up by twenty percent. His dial for teasing went up tenfold too. Meanwhile, Ghost hardly looked at anyone else, nevertheless, stare at them unless they were the Scottish man. Frankly, you didn’t mind. Who were you to judge the two? Especially when they were good at what they did.

It takes weeks before you’re comfortable enough to so much as talk to anyone 141. Gaz, or Kyle as Soap tended to call him when annoyed, is the first to so much as approach you. While the others are interested, you coming from KorTac had put them off for a bit. Gaz on the other hand treats you like a brother. He’ll throw his arm around your shoulder, dragging you around as he laughs about the past or even at your jokes. At meals, he always throws a raised eyebrow at those who look at you oddly when you’re quiet or sitting with the man. He treats you like you’re part of the team, furthermore, that truly means more than anything to you.

The man is just as bloodthirsty as you are. His stories of falling out of planes along with taking out enemies only lead to you looking up to your new teammate and brother. His tales of meeting Captain Price, past missions, a few tidbits of him being with the SAS, together with some metals he’s earned, only makes you want to pry more stories from the man; not like you don’t have to try. Simply asking about his stories leads to at least an hour-long spill of them from the guy.

And with his stories comes a few of your own. You don’t share much of them, knowing Gaz spreads them to the rest of the team with more dramatics to try to get you to interact with the others. Something you do learn about him that you always keep in mind from his stories is that his blood type is B Negative and shooting any dog, wild or not, makes him feel a bit guilty; he had to shoot one a while ago and apologised to the poor mutt after having to put it down to finish his mission.

With all that he’s shared and how the both of you see each other as brothers, it’s only fair that you let yourself talk to the others in the team. Though your words are short, along with your jokes being told quickly to distract yourself from the stressful situations, you allow yourself to slowly relax with the others. Gaz’s constant support helps you finally allow yourself to bond with your new team and family. It’s only after a mission that things change. 

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

“Take the left! Keep your heads down and keep movin’!” Captain Price’s voice rings out in your earpiece. Everything has gone to shit. The intel you’ve been getting was entirely a trap. You’re running through an underground tunnel, Ghost and another man named Roach is running in front of you.

Roach is a quiet man, never talking or letting out a sound, but semi-friendly. From his actions and what you’ve been told of him, he does his best to complete the missions to the tea. The few interactions you’ve had with him were silent but nice. Whether or not he’s mute has crossed your mind time and mind again but you don’t ask; you’d rather leave the man be. After all, he has become something like a friend maybe even another brother.

“Copy. We’re nearly out. Roach and [Redacted] are with me,” Ghost responds, quickening his pace. The rifle smacks against your back as you speed up to keep up with the other two men. Despite the situation, the three of you remain as calm as you can be.

“You’re bein’ tracked like a rabbit is by a hound, Ghost! Move it!” The captain’s orders are clear and the worry is read between the lines. If you three don’t get out, it’s a huge blow to 141. Not only that, but Soap loses his boyfriend, Gaz loses two of his best friends as well as brothers, you three lose your lives, and Task Force 141 loses three of its members. Dying isn’t an option here.

“We have company,” Your words are muffled by your gear but the two soldiers in front of you hear them in their own pieces.

“Fuckin’ hell-” Ghost’s sentence gets cut off by gunfire from behind. Turning around, you fire the Lachmann Sub in your possession.

“We gotta go! They’re gaining!” You clip one of the enemies in the shoulder and another is hit in the stomach. Picking up the speed, the three of you try to beat them out of the tunnel. You cover the back, hoping the two get out before you. If you get surrounded, it’s over.

Thankfully, they haven’t reached the other end of the tunnel as the three of your burst out of the exit. You grab a grenade, pull the pin and throw it in the tunnel. As soon as it leaves your hands, you’re running faster to get to Roach and Ghost before anything else can; one arm wraps around each of your teammates’ necks, dragging them down to the ground as the little metal bomb goes off. Debris flies everywhere, looking for an area to land after being shot out of its place.

With the tunnel exist now collapsed along with no more flying rock and metal, you release the men. “How copy?” Crackles through each of your earpieces. You knock your forearm into Roach’s upper arm, eyes crinkling from your smile. He gives you a grateful nod, standing. You smack Ghost’s arm as he stands, glad to have escaped the enemies for now.

“Tunnel’s collapsed. We’re good. Ready for extraction, Sir,” Blunt and straight to the point are the skull-masked man’s words.

“Good. Heli’s close by. Move to the edge of the town.” With the three of you alive, you can practically feel Captain Price’s relief.

“Copy that, Captain,” Your muffled response comes before Ghost can send in his own. He scans you from the corner of his eye but doesn’t give you a retort. You do, however, hear a small huff of air leave him. You throw your arm around Roach’s neck again, puffs of air leaving you from happiness, meanwhile, his arm comes around your back. Seems the three of you live another day.

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

After that mission, Ghost tends to lurk around you more than he originally had. It didn’t help that Soap tends to tag along as well. Thankfully, he finds your jokes hilarious if the loud, boisterous laughter he lets out all the time tells you anything. His teasing ends up piling onto you as well. Before, it was light as well as spread out. Now, it’s almost like he’s talking to Ghost with all the teasing and flirting he now does with you. His boyfriend hardly seems concerned but rather encourages his behaviour. Of course, that doesn’t mean he goes easy on you when the two of your spar together. He’s dead serious when it comes to sparring; it’s only a reminder that while he does good off, he’s just as dangerous as the rest of them.

The two men seem to be fixated on wanting to help you out in training as well. More pointers plus tips are thrown your way when you practice with either of them. Sometimes, they’ll even make you coffee for those sleepless nights. Mentioning such things to Gaz and Roach only leads to your sworn brothers giving you knowing looks or a few teasing words; Gaz is the one with the teasing remarks while Roach pats your shoulder in a mocking but teasing “you poor man” way. Neither seems keen on wanting to spill the tea on why the Scottish and British men have been more affectionate.

While you enjoy their kind gestures, including their company, you’re not sure if you’re ready to admit to yourself, or them, about such feelings or relationships. On the surface, you truly do want to ask them if this is some sort of flirting schtick they have going on. Deep down though, the idea of being with anyone again makes your stomach fill with the lead. How could you enter another relationship? After the last one ended with your soon-to-be fiance’s brains splattered all over a brick wall. How can you move past that? How can you allow yourself to find someone like them? Or even better than them? The answer to that is a sigh alongside a bitter smile. The ring hiding under your tactical gloves seems to burn your skin. Truly, how can you let your first love go? After all, if you weren’t good enough to keep them alive, how can you keep these two from meeting the same gorey end?

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

“To think I’d find myself here… How fuckin’ funny,” You mumble. Another mission, this one just like all the others. Well, it would have been if you hadn’t been shot. The blood leaking from your leg alongside a knife wound to your side leave you in pain. Feeling weak isn’t something uncommon but neither is it constantly happening. Words are being spoken to you through your headset. You were to be the lookout but ended up being the enemy's first target.

“How copy?” Rings in your ears. Your eyes stare blankly in front of you. You feel pathetic. Too tired to talk. Too tired to get up. You just sit, popped up against a tree in the heavily wooded area. You’ve failed, failed, failed.

“C’mon, Mate, how do ya copy?” Soap’s voice is worried and winded. He and Ghost are the people you’ve been teamed up with and you’ve failed.

“[Redacted], how copy?” The next tone is Ghost’s. It sounds slightly strained.

“Mission Failed,” You croak, head tilted back and against the tree.

“Status report, Mate. Where are ya?” He’s rushing, possibly panicked now.

“Got two wounds. Gunshot to the thigh. Knife to the side. Bleeding pretty bad, Soap.” You close your eyes, sighing.

“State your location.” The Brit seems to be just as worried as his Scottish counterpart.

“Dunno. Woods. Against a tree… There’s a lot of blood. Feelin’ woozy.” When you open your eyes, your sight is blurred. You’re losing too much blood.

“Keep talkin’ to us then, yeah? You’ll make it out. We’ll get out together,” The Scot’s words, though hopeful, only make you scoff quietly.

“You know… If I get outta here… Think we can go out sometime? Bourbon and whiskey? The three of us?”

“When we get out, [Redacted]. There’s no if here,” The masked man makes it sound final like there’s no way you’ll die on them.

“Yeah… Yeah..” You don’t say anymore, everything slowly hazing away. It’s like your floating in winter with how cold you feel.

“[Redacted]? Don’t sleep! C’mon! Keep ya eyes open!” Soap’s words fade away along with everything else. All that waits is cold darkness.

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

“So… Think you can handle our drinking date after this?” Soap perches on the side table, messing with a lighter he took from Ghost.

“After he’s healed, Johnny. No alcohol before,” A semi-scolding is all the man gets from the brooding Ghost. You laugh slightly, jostling your wounds. You wince but wave off the concerned looks you get.

“After I’m no longer full of holes, Johnny-boy.” You take a sip of water afterwards, making Soap frown playfully.

“And to think I was gonna bring out the good shit fer ya. A shame. A damn shame.” You gently shake your head. It was a close call but Ghost got to you before you completely bled out. From what you’ve been told by Gaz, who yelled at you for an hour after you woke up from your four-day sleep, Ghost and Soap dragged you back to the helicopter. Both refused to leave your side. Captain Price ended up having to yell at the men and bribe them with a bit of alcohol to get them to even go to their own rooms. You made sure to apologize to Gaz, hugging him tightly after his blow-up. He thought he was going to lose a friend and family member so you couldn’t blame him.

Roach gave you the cold should for a while before appearing in your room with a cup of coffee. He made sure to smack the back of your head for your stupidity as well, though it was hardly rough. You grabbed the man before he could so much as bolt though when he saw you getting up to hug him. He hadn’t pushed you away though. And the captain? It felt like you were a kid again with how he pinned you with his stare. He made sure to tell you exactly how he felt, going from angry, to disappointed, to angry again. Another guy you couldn’t blame anything on. But you get to live another day at least. And you get to have that date with the two guys who were able to grab ahold of your heart after a long-time of heartache and loss.

[dracocheesecake]

Hi hii thats me again reflexing on your Kai headcanons yayy

How do you think could Kai have identity crisis at some point due to him being a 'halfbreed'? Yeah I understand that kfp is a world of anthropomorphic animals and nations don't really work in our sense but still xd I mean, (back to one of your writings) in childhood he used to be not treated well because of his mongolian roots. Later I think he could have struggled a little if the side he choose to fight (on?by?with? -m not native srry) is the right one. His ancestors from both sides have been historical enemies for generations, Kai probably had a lot to think about

I have a lot of headcanons and thoughts about this specific topic, so I'll try to summarize it as best as I can: to answer it straight: yes and no- it depended on context.

Warning: racism, some foul language

In my headcanons Kai joined up with the Immortal Army (what the Qin state army called themselves), at one point trying to put an emperor Candidate named Lord Bohai into power.

They fought against not only enemy mongolian tribes, but also the huns and the other Chinese states with their armies and emperor candidates, as well as various warlords attempting to seize power at this tumultuous period in history.

Khaltmaa's herd wasn't apart of the coalition of clans that attacked China- they were just traders, a family of nomads moving place to place- they actually left Mongolia to escape the fighting that was going on at the time, and came to the Qin state because it's immense military strength made it relatively stable; however, because they were Mongolian, they were treated only a little better than the enemy clans- “painted with the same brush”, you know how ignorant people are.

Kai received a lot of discrimination and abuse in the army because of this, and they actually blamed his bloodlust and sadism on his mongolian blood, which filled Kai with shame, knowing his mother and her family were peaceful, kind, civilized people from a rich culture; but Kai rose up the ranks quickly to escape the abuse, and flaunted his heritage as an act of defiance. He and Oogway bonded over their foreign backgrounds, because Oogway also suffered similarly, especially from General Jiahao, who never missed an opportunity to make remarks:

To Kai: “Your father must have either been desperate or a sick kind of pervert, to mix good Chinese blood with that of a savage whore; and look what such an ill-fated mating created.” 

And for Oogway:

"What islander dribble are you speaking, now? You came all the way over the seas from your speck of dirt in the ocean, and you can't learn how to speak our language properly? Are all the tortoises where you come from slow in mind as well?"

It didn't help matters when they actually went to fight those mongolian clans. There was talk of Kai joining in with his "breathren", or feeling guilt for cutting down his "cousins" in battle; Kai had no relations in these clans, but it wouldn’t help to explain it. Of course, once Kai and Oogway became warlords, they never heard such talk again.

[captain-mj]

"It’s because he’s doing some illegal Things (with Graves) as well :)" ELABERTIOJ PLS???

srry am drunl 😳

Yeah, I can definitely do that CW: Drug use and sex work

Price shouldn't. He knew that. But every week or two, he broke down and did this. Honestly, he didn't feel that guilty either. Just knew if this got out, he'd never live it down. His reputation would be ruined.

Graves arrived, smiling at him. "You called?"

"Get undressed." Price ordered, leaning against the wall.

Graves blushed and slowly took everything off, moving so Price could see very inch that he exposed. Little scars on his back. Freckles and beauty marks. Tight ass.

"Fucking hell."

"Love that no matter how many times I undress, you still get so excited." Graves commented, but Price could see the creeping blush. As much as he tried to pretend he was suave and experienced, Price did something to him. Made him a blushing fucking virgin. Or maybe that was part of the act. "Didn't prep myself. I know you wanted to last time."

Price took a deep drag of the cigar and set it down, putting Graves over his desk. "Pay a lot of money. Want to do exactly what I want. That's the point, right? The fantasy?"

Graves nodded and moved so his foot was on the edge of the desk. It gave Price a better view of him. His pupils were wider than normal. A clear sign he likely was not sober.

Price kissed him hard. "You're perfect, love."

Graves grinned and arched a little. "Will have to charge you, but you know that. You have the money right?"

Price ignored him in favor of kissing down his body. He wasn't sure which part would destroy his life faster. That he hired a prostitute or that he looked the other way at his drug use. Either way, he couldn't help himself. He sank to his knees and dragged Graves to the edge, ignoring his little squeal. His tongue squirmed it's way into Graves, his hands keeping him still so he couldn't escape it.

Graves twisted and writhed like an animal, never able to get more than an inch away.

Price quickly lost himself in the repetitive movements. Slowly using his tongue to break him open and get him prepped. After a moment, he pushed his finger in too, just to get him more open. He wants to own him. Every inch of skin. Every muscle that he can. Maybe he could just rip him to shreds or eat him whole. Run his tongue along his veins and drink him down.

Graves shuddered and tangled his fingers in his hair. "Come on now. You only have me tonight. I'm sure you want to actually fuck me."

Price bit the inside of his thigh as hard as he could, drawing blood. "Fuck off. I'm well aware."

Graves moaned, looking at the ceiling. "You're lucky I have a soft spot for you, John. Otherwise, I might not let you treat me like this. Such foul language. All your friends know how you treat me?"

Price licked over the bite. "No. That's why I hire you. Privacy."

"John. Hurry up. I'd like to get fucked some time today, please." Graves broke, not above begging. Never above begging. He wanted to be rearranged and broken in bed. Something John specialized in.

Price picked him up, balancing him so his legs were over his shoulders. He continued to eat him out as he walked, balancing him with ease. Graves squealed and squirmed, never happy about the fact that Price could carry him so easily. When he hit the bed, he bounced just a little before he just fell back into the bed.

Price pounced and grabbed the rope, easily tying Graves so he was bent in half. His knees were tied to his chest, leaving vulnerable.

"What do you fantasize about?" Graves asked as Price poured lube on himself. "Keeping twinks in your bed?"

"Not twinks. Just you. Just want you." One day, he swore he just wasn't going to let him leave. Would keep him tied up until he promised he'd be his sugar baby. Or maybe just his pet. Either way. As long as he got all of him. Could douse the dark feeling in his chest. Maybe he could finally be human all the time when he could come home and take as much pleasure as he wanted.

Graves flushed. "You flatter me." He exposed his throat and Price nipped it as he pushed in. He was purposely a bit rougher, stretching him just right. A little pain always made Graves melt. His body bending and trying to take even more if he could. "Not so deep."

Price thrust in hard and fit his hand around his throat. He squeezed hard to watch Graves's eyelashes flutter. "Gorgeous." He thrust in harder, ignoring the littler whimper. His cock leaked on to both of their stomachs, hard and red at the tip. "You enjoy this so much. Little whore."

Graves gasped and his eyes rolled back as Price hit the right spot. He cruelly teased him, hitting it once, twice, missing it entirely. Until Graves was trying to angle himself to get it right. Tears filled his eyes, but Price focused on just dragging it out. Letting him get riled up.

"John, please."

Price missed again, going as deep as he could instead.

"Lover boy, come on!"

Dirty trick. Evil honestly.

Price wrapped his arms around him and drove into him over and over and over again. Right there for him. Graves gasped and tried to catch his breath, tears flowing down his face.

Gorgeous.

He came all over himself. Price licked a stripe up the cum on his chest before he came inside him. Coating his insides in it. Graves fluttered around him, biting his lip as he gazed up at Price.

"One day, I'll convince you to never leave."

Graves stared up at him. Something like pity in his drugged up eyes. "I'm sure."

[ithinkilikethislittlelife01]

[RPG] Random Thoughts With A-Spen:

Hey, so today i was out with A-Lan and A-Li because Mothership was ' Taking a break from our BS ' whatever that means [ because we all know the problematic one and its not me ], So we went to go get fro-yo.. ive been hearing these.. Foul.. things coming from these humans.. they have no dignity anymore do they? one of them was talking about how they were buying a " Bra " TO A STRANGER THEY MET 2 SECONDS AGO- WHO DOES THAT?? THEY DONT NEED TO KNOW THAT AND I DONT NEED TO HEAR IT-.. And like, also- today Willa just told me about a period. again.. I DID NOT NEED TO KNOW ABOUT THAT. I AM AN ALIEN WE DONT HAVE THAT KIND OF GENETALIA.. 😭, anyway. Star's and Sparkles- have a good day srry for my yapping. - A-Spen

[wombrion]

just tje two of us............against the wolrd.........

Me and my partner in crime Wombrion spreading the Marios agenda

[linoscence]

lovegame.

pairing. lee minho x reader

genre. playboy! minho, college student! au, angst, fluff, with lots of tension, comedy ig, somehow enemies to lovers to enemies to lovers?

sypnosis. trapping the presumptuous-made-from-pits-of-hell boy into your hands was the only plan. why? simply because you're bored. playing with feelings has gotta be the most hideous thing you can do in your life, and you chose to play with someone who reciprocates one's doing. however, he seems to explode at the sight of you and your friend. now, you gotta face the consequences of your actions.

words. 1.4k, istg i just hurriedly wrote this for minho’s day. haven’t proof-read yet. have a blast, love! 

warnings. foul words, countless trying to kill your best friend jokes, maybe kinda off to other if u are soft w ur friends ig?

a/n.  might just post this part for now just to greet this precious human being. will get vaccinated tomorrow srry. anyways, to lee know whom we love so much, thank you for being the most endearing person i’ve ever known. you are caring in your own way and you are the kindest. you are so passionate of what you love, you deserve the whole universe. i love you more than love. 

                “hey, be accountable of your actions. now take care of me, babe. “ minho flashed his infamous smirk with a wink, after planting a kiss on your cheek.

               If your friend didn’t just shit the hell out of you and tried to place on a bet just for an album, then you wouldn’t even be facing this guy’s constant glaring and smirking for life. 

      “Han, please just shut your mouth, I swear to God.” Feeling exasperated by your friend’s nonstop story-telling of how he can get free signed albums because of his new work as an intern in a production company, a passionate one. 

     “Okay, but there’s a hot guy in the dance group though, I thought he was a ghost last time I see him dancing in the dark in the practice room.” Continuing his babbling, you closed your book and stood up from your seat. “Hey, I’m not done you grouchy bitch!” immediately following your pace. 

    “I heard he is studying here! let’s be friends with him to get free pass on the dance room lmao!” Jisung joked, you swear he’ll be all shy once he actually gets a sight of this ghost he’s talking about. It took you 10 times of borrowing a pen from him, the pen he admitted he was always biting in class during boring classes which is; everyday. You’ve always wondered why the hell does the pen’s cap keep getting bent. Once you knew him, he apologized and bought you a new one for a compensation of getting your hands touched by his saliva. He said you were lucky to adopt his germs.                                              

     “He doesn’t own the dance room ji, he probably have a schedule to use it. Dream on and stop using people for convenience,” you hissed. “And stop blabbering about the free albums if you won’t get me a signed one from seventeen for my birthday, okay? “ you advised, looking up to him to see his reaction. 

       “You really are the biggest bitch I’ve known! dream on and stop using people for convenience !!” he groused with his middle finger up, running away from you after getting back at you to taste your own medicine. Sure, he does this but he’ll always have ways to give what you want.   

         A week after your dreading hell week, you stared at the surroundings of your field. You questioned how does Jisung managed to train while studying. Maybe because you have a shitload of work being in the political science field and him being in the music department. Yet, you two are the same thriving for your own dreams. 

         “I do think I now deserve that signed album of seventeen, please my sweetest friend, my best best friend, the only one who I can’t live without, my savior.” you expressed wholeheartedly to Jisung. He laughed at your outstanding pleading, but you did not get a reply from him. “Let’s go get a drink, you plastic bitch.” It is your tradition to have some fun after school agony.       

          “Are you really gonna do this to me!? Han Jisung!” You asked with a disheartenedly tone. After that, he laughed audibly into your face, he couldn’t even breath that’s why you put a meat with a big ass lettuce wrap in his mouth for him to choke.                                                                                                                “Okay, okay, calm down. I’ll give it to you if.. “ He prolonged his words making you speculate his mind, he has another trouble for you just to harass you, you know him too well.    

          “befriendthehotguyfromthedanceclubiwassayinglasttime.” he blurted out faster than your heartbeat when it comes to visiting him in the faculty room because of his fights with that llama guy. You asked him to repeat what he is saying in a slow manner. 

           “What!? why? are you nuts!?” you complained, you want to kill him right in front of you actually. deez nuts, he wanted to blurt that out but nevermind. he didn’t want to add fuel to the fire. Instead, he said “Look, just befriend him, I heard he has a lot of girls crushing on him but he just entertains them for fun, he still looks cool to me though. He seems friendly.” he encouraged, “besides, you might even have a boyfriend after as a freebie for friendship.” he added as he grinned at you while winking.  

            “And why do you think I need to get associated with him? give me an acceptable reason and I’ll choke you, acceptable or not.” He looked at you with teasingly eyes, “Well, he looks confident of himself and you are too, considering you two are pleasing to the eyes. You have dumped so much boys in your life, you could make a dump yard with it. Test your limits bro. “ explaining his awesome, marvelous, unbelievable, prodigious, shocking, wonderful, and stunning idea. 

             All you could do is chuckle and think of ways-to-kill-your-own-best-friend. “C’mon, seventeen would be disappointed with you, I’ll even get you to see them. Your life is at stake.” aggravating you more. 

            “Okay, I’ll just do this for seventeen, and because I am bored. I don’t have a thrill in my life now. Just that, you better shut up if I stole him from you.” you announced, earning an evil laugh from him. 

           In this game, he might be the game master for playing the cupid’s role.

            The sky has always been your favorite part to look out. Many would say that you look heavenly when you look up into the sky. Your delicate features are being seen and you look as bright as the sky. But today, you didn’t want to look at it. You wanted to keep your head down and go home.  You even remembered that damned bet you had with your very best friend. Great timing to execute your ways to kill him. 

             Clearly it wasn’t your fault you had kiss another man, out of frustration. Maybe you can blame it on the 7th sense. 

             There’s this new guy who have been annoying you on your debate club for three weeks now. You remembered his name is Mark? Mason? Matthew? Michael? Mint? or whatever the hell he is because he suits the name Lucifer. He has been crushing you ever since. With words and his flirty remarks.

                Emergency alert for the most humiliating thing you’ve done in your whole life. 

                “Well, you should have known these kind of things, honey. Aren’t you a political science major, huh?” There goes the satanic smile he always flash onto you. To clarify, you don’t even talk a lot but when you do, he always gets on your nerves, shuttering your whole nervous system, only allowing your anger to lead the way. 

                “Honey, we don’t need to fucking know everything, okay? Last time I checked, we study to learn; not to know everything, Mr. computer science.” Emphasizing your comeback, you mimicked his actions earlier.

                “Oh? Well you should start learning more right now.” He gibed at you. You opened your mouth to retort not until  ━

                “Oh, now you wanna kiss me so bad, don’t you? “ He said playfully, wiggling his eyebrows at you, smirking after. 

                “Are you challenging me? You know I don’t squirm.” You challenged him. 

                The hands on your waist is now caressing your hair going down to your back, tasting your lips ravishingly, repeatedly in a motion you’ll get lost of. No words needed to describe your make out session. All you know is this Mr. computer science in a black shirt with a flannel on could make you shut your mouth up in a matter of 2-3 minutes or maybe even 5-10, if you wanted more. Once he broke the collision of your lips together, he looked down to you with his hands still on your waist and bantered, 

                “And what if I do?” Oh how bad you wanna wipe that smirk off his face, “ Oh hell, you do, Mr. computer science.” With one last rolling of the eyes, you smashed your lips onto his. Getting a taste of him, getting the butterflies, they’ve been circling promptly as he put his hand on your waist. You only pulled this shit as a joke but now he’s kissing you back, even harder. You immediately break away from his lips not until he pulled you closer to himself. 

               “It’s Lee Minho to you, baby.” oh you can never wipe that smirk off. 

[totiredtowrite]

i uh qyxhhfhcg for the follower matchup event thing waszup, your blog is a godsend istg u are amazing. and i'd like a JJK matchup

three things abt myself:

- i play the drums

- all my friendships were started because of a third party, idk how to start conversations and make friends ✌️✌️

- i look hella bland and boring from a stranger's pov and at first meeting but my friend told me that i have added spice when they got to know me so-

the dynamic i want is like a strangers to friends to lovers ig? i never rlly thought abt it but yea

i want a partner that understands me well (but dont we all tho ahhxhf) and would be willing to put up with my bullshit through and through

i generally get along with more outgoing and extroverted people because someone needs to start the conversation, but i am willing to continue the conversation with whatever topic we have goin on yknow.

srry if this was too long, it's my first time sending an ask like this. i hope you had and have a great day and week and month, much luvs <33

-☁️

Your Match is

Megumi Fushiguro

Why?

Megumi, while not terribly extroverted, seems like someone who would fit well with you.

He can start conversations with you, and as long as you can keep them going he's fine.

He is actually rather calm, so putting up with you wouldn't be a problem for him.

While you can't make friends too well, he isn't very good at conveying how he feels. The two of you have some shared traits that can either make it extremely awkward or extremely comfortable between you two, and there isn't really an in between.

🂠🃑🃁🂱🂡

How You Met

Itadori introduced you guys. Being generally extroverted himself, he met you and thought, "Wow! He seems boring! Megumi might like him." (Not very sweet). Itadori was right though, you seemed very dry in his eyes.

Itadori left suddenly, claiming that Gojo was calling and he needed to answer, leaving you two alone.

Sitting there in awkward silence wasn't ideal for either of you, so when you said "This is kind of awkward, huh?" He agreed wholeheartedly.

"Not a thought behind his eyes," Megumi commented in regards to Yuuji. You laughed softly in agreement. Megumi extended his hand formally. "I'm Fushiguro. You are?"

"(L/n)," you took his hand.

That's right, you became friends over Yuuji slander.

🂠🃑🃁🂱🂡

The Crush Phase

Megumi with a crush, wow

I'd say he realized it when you two were just hanging out normally.

Megumi was on the floor, and you were at your drum set.

You weren't playing, just talking with Megumi because you two had gotten distracted.

And just out of nowhere he thinks "I'm in love with (y/n)"

At first he doesn't register what he just thought, but when he did he freaked the fuck out.

He jumped up, quickly said "I have to go," and ran out of your room like a bat out of hell.

He's actually rather normal with you after that though.

It's like he hadn't realized anything, until he remembers that he has a crush on you.

Then he gets pink and starts stuttering a bit.

He isn't a touchy friend in general, (like Yuuji), so any random touches you guys did were now extremely scarce.

He didn't want to accidentally out himself somehow, so he decided to distance.

Spoiler alert: It didn't go to well.

🂠🃑🃁🂱🂡

Confession

Megumi can handle others, but he can't handle his own emotions.

So, he chose to distance himself. It was a great idea right? He would just take a few steps back until his feelings died down, and then everything would go back to normal. No harm, no foul.

Well, full harm. He hadn't said anything to you, just slowly inching away. You used to hang out all the time, now you didn't spend more than 15 minutes together alone.

Finally, you decided to corner him. "Is something wrong Megumi?" He looked kind of flushed, and wouldn't make eye contact with you. "You've been avoiding me for like 2 weeks now! Did something happen?" Any nervous habits you had were starting to shine through now.

Megumi just opened and closed his mouth. What was he supposed to do? Just confess his love? Absolutely not. What if you said no or wanted to stop being friends with him? He doesn't think he could handle it if you never wanted to speak with him again.

"Don't just stand there megumi! Please, just tell–"

"I love you."

His mouth moved before he could stop it. The words were swimming around in his head, and the second he opened his mouth it's like they had to escape.

Well so much for his earlier hesitation.

You just stood there for a second before collapsing into him. "Glad I'm not the only one," you muttered into his neck. His face was covered in shock as he shaking wrapped his arms around you.

It was seriously that easy?

🂠🃑🃁🂱🂡

Honorable Mention

Yuuji Itadori

Note: I'll insert a page break later when I'm working from my computer.

[underkita-archive]

arguing with the team manager

a/n: not me continuing to write about disagreements between the team manager n players !! srry bout it,,,i rlly am a post first think later so i hope this isn’t it like poorly written lmao

warnings: bad words, name-calling, both parties being meanies

summary: he argues with you (is mean to you), the team manager, feat. shirabu + futakuchi

“you’re too wound up.” it’s said in a matter of fact tone, because with shirabu in this state you could have a halo over your head and said as sweetly as possible, he would still manage to take it as an attack.

“leave me alone.” his voice is low and his grip on the water bottle is too tight.

“fine but you’re just gonna make mistakes.” your patience is already running thin, there’s no being nice or reasoning with him like this and he knows you’re right. which he lets you know by replying with a scowl and shoving the water bottle back into your hands. you watch silently (and in a bit of horror) as they end up giving the first set to the other team. you keep your lips pursed as he stomps over to you, swiping his water bottle from you again.

“don’t say a word.”

“tch, don’t tell me what to do and don’t act like it’s my fault that you can’t keep your cool. i’m not the one falling for the other teams stupid remarks.” you narrow your eyes as he takes a step towards you, eyes filled with a quiet rage that have never been focused on you.

“watch your mouth, you’re supposed to sit there, take your notes and pass out water bottles.” he snipes, you take a step forward, close enough now to feel the heat radiating from his skin.

“and you’re supposed to lead the team to a win,” he winces at the jab and you can’t help the slight satisfaction make your fingers twitch, “looks like neither of us are really doing our jobs here.”

you hold his harsh gaze, refusing to be the first to look away. he opens his mouth ready to make another scathing comment when kawanishi clears his throat beside you two.

“either you two kiss and makeup or breakup i don’t care but we have a game to win so quit whatever this is, you’re making goshiki upset.” kawanishi sighs, taking a step towards the two of you.

“the fact you treat us like a married couple is foul. i wouldn’t go out with him no matter what.” you scoff.

“not even if i turn the game around?” both you and kawanishi’s eyebrows raise at the question. you take a step back from him, your eyes darting around his face not quite sure what you’re looking for in his features.

“are you kidding me, you’re gonna be rude and then ask if i’d wanna go on a date?” you brace yourself for a cruel remark, hoping that he doesn’t notice the interest filling your eyes.

“is that a no?” you hate the smug quirk of his brow as he asks.

“it’s a win the damn game and i’ll consider it.”

“please futakuchi please.” you’re exhausted, you’ve been up since 5 am and it’s now 7 pm, and after a long day of classes and practice matches, you’re stuck filling out the remaining paperwork. all you’re asking is for futakuchi to stay behind and wait for you so you don’t have to walk home alone in the dark.

“no i wanna sleep.” his tone is disinterested and he literally has a foot out the door. you feel tears prick at your eyes in frustration and the temptation to rip your hair out itches at your fingers.

“i just, i’m asking for this little favor. and you can’t even do that!” you’re feeling a bit petty hoping that you’re next words will strike some sort of chord with your difficult captain, “i bet all the other team captains would do this for their managers.” his eyebrow twitches and you watch as he steps back and further into the club room.

“maybe it’s because other teams have more efficient managers.” your jaw drops, after everything you’ve done for the team? for him? that’s what he has to say?

“oh fuck you,” now you really want to cry, you feel yourself choke over the frustration and anger building up, “n-never mind you asshole just go.”

“y/n wait i’m sorry.” you watch the panic fill his eyes, you almost accept the apology but this time he went just a little too far.

“take your apology and shove it.” you look back down at the paperwork scribbling furiously, blinking away your tears as you listen to futakuchi sight and leave the club room. you finish filling out the last few papers and gather them up, giving one last sweep over the club room. you inhale sharply, stepping out and locking it up.

“ah!” you drop your bag when you see futakuchi sitting there by the door, his cheeks are pink from sitting out in the cold and he looks exhausted.

“it’s too dark and cold out here, let’s go already.” he yawns, standing up and grabbing your bag, slinging it over his shoulder. you open your mouth to say something but you can’t seem to find the words and resign yourself to walking beside him.

[that-foul-legacy-lover]

Hi hi!! Im so new to your blog and I absolutely adore mothman childe,,, 💞💞💞

It makes me wonder, what does he look like, exactly? I know this is a silly question to ask ( and im srry is this is asked already :( )

Keep up the amazing work btw!! 💞

KFSNJHNSJJ DON'T WORRY MY DEAR mothman is an affectionate nickname we use for foul legacy Childe, because he does lowkey look like a moth!! and welcome! please enjoy your stay!!

[capricities]

If it isn't too much,, can I get a Trey reflecting on the events of Heartslabyul while baking,, or just reflecting in general,, and if possible could you squeeze Cater. Thank you so much!

dhdhdhhdh I tried to write it to the best I can and I hope it's to your liking,,, I'm not too good at writing Trey so srry if it's a bit ooc,, Hope you enjoy cc:

If Trey had to describe his dorm in one word, it would be chaotic. Quite ironic considering it was founded in the image and ideals of the Queen of Hearts, but Trey couldn’t find a more fitting word to describe it.

He found himself sighing as he continued to slice the berries, with only his thoughts to accompany him in the dormitory kitchens. Trey crinkled his nose in distaste. To think he was here in the kitchen, creating yet another tart for a new unbirthday party. Ever since the fiasco that their start of the year one was, Unbirthday parties have left a rather sour taste in his mouth. Not even extensive brushing could remove the foul taste.

So maybe, at this moment, his technique was sloppier and the measurements weren’t as precise. Maybe, at this moment, he took less precaution than usual. Maybe, just maybe, Trey wasn’t enjoying this as much as usual.

His third year in Heartslabyul and second year as dorm leader made him realise a few things. Firstly, he was a coward, though he was already well aware of that. He was a coward who refused to acknowledge the grievances around him. For the sake of what? His sanity, maybe? He had just wanted to keep a semblance of a past long forgotten and stained with ink (“I do not need anyone who defies me in my world. I am my world’s absolute ruler. My world itself submits to me!”).

Secondly, he was too lenient. He always was when it came to Riddle. He was well aware of how he pitied Riddle and for the sake of letting Riddle have his way for once, he turned a blind eye and backed him up dutifully. He supported Riddle, but he supported him in all the wrong ways, cheered for him and encouraged him in the wrong aspects. He did nothing but fan flames.

And thirdly, Hearstlabyul was but a hastily made house of cards meant to topple at the blow of the wind. The dorm and its subjects were lawless, yet its leader held law close to his chest. Its subjects obeyed the law out of fear, and the leader upheld the law in pure respect. (“In Heartslabyul, I am the rules, my word is absolute!”).

In hindsight, Trey had realised long before Riddle even became dorm leader that Heatslabyul wasn’t living up to its reputation, yet everyone continued on and pretended it did anyway. Because even though then the respect for the now deceased queen was ever-present within the students who resided in the dorms, not everyone could dedicate themselves to following the hundreds of ridiculous rules.

In even more hindsight, Trey had realised that maybe he too was just as disorderly. Instead of progressing, he swept everything under the rug. He didn’t even try to help. He too was to blame, not just Riddle (“What do you really think about him? Have you always been enabling him like this since you were kids?”).

He had been plagued with thoughts these past few months, thoughts that never cease to haunt him. His focus was less on attending to his duties as a student and Vice Dorm Leader, and more on the what if’s. Overblots are deadly. They were consumed from the inside and out. It could’ve killed Riddle, killed everyone around him, including himself.

What if Riddle had overblotted and no one was there to stop him. Trey’s hands trembled as his grip on the knife loosened ever so slightly. That was a horrid thought, but in those moments it was a possibility. And if Riddle had died, he would have that on his conscience, he gave that one last push before Riddle finally snapped (“Are you saying that I’m wrong, too? Even after I did my best to protect all those strict rules?! Even after I’ve endured so, so, so many things! I won’t, I will never...I will never believe it!!!!!”)

“You know, those strawberries look way too mashed if I do say so myself, are you sure that’s what you were going for?” Cater chimed as he sidled into the kitchen.

Trey blinked for a moment as he stared at the counter. Cater was right, these didn’t even look like strawberries anymore. It was mashed beyond repair...perhaps they could salvage this for the filling. The strawberries might create a nice caramel-like taste with the apple tarts.

With a sigh, Trey carefully transferred the pureed strawberries. Cater was one of the people who witnessed Riddle’s overblot firsthand, and as such, he was probably one of the few people that could possibly be sharing his sentiment (Ace definitely wasn’t one of those, he had demanded an apology the moment Riddle woke up.)

“You’re usually super into baking Trey, you wouldn’t make mistakes like this. Something’s up.” Cater remarked as he scrolled through his phone.

“I’m just bothered by something, is all. It’s nothing much.” Trey supplied as he placed some new strawberries into the board.

Trey knew that Cater already had an idea of what was going through his head, after all, Cater was one of the few people who had the ability to read him, though at times Cater was a bit too far off with his predictions.

Cater looked up from his phone to face Trey. “You know, Riddle-kun’s doing well. He’s learning how to reconnect with the dorm. They’re really starting to appreciate him now.”

Trey felt himself smile a little. That was right. The aftermath of his overblot brought many things to light, and though Trey wished that such extreme events didn’t have to take place for Riddle to realise it, he was grateful nonetheless.

Cater smiled cheekily, knowing full well what thoughts were going through his Vice Dorm Leader’s mind. “Let me help!” Cater announced as he skipped, his phone still in hand.

“You’re just going to vlog everything, aren’t you?” Trey sighed.

Cater chuckled. “Don’t worry! I’ll tag you!”

Heartslabyul was a house of cards. He, and his fellow dorm members served as the foundation. The wind may have toppled this house of old, and the order of the cards may change, but at the end of the day, Heartslabyul was still Heartslabyul.

Heartslabyul will always be chaotic, and Trey was just starting to realise that maybe, just maybe, he was fine with that.

[zuffer-weird-girl]

Ight so imagine this: Overhaul is working and Chrono is watching his S/O right. They have his jacket on with one of his dress shirts with a white tie just messing around and pretending to be like him. Well what is Chrono sent him a video of this. How do you think he would react?

I would totally do that srry bae

Chisaki had a long day ahead of him that probably he would be free only at night, and when he told you about it, you just pouted; not complaining but clearly not enjoying one bit; which made the man feel a tiny bit of guilt

a lot he felt a lot of guilt you're his weakness.

Trying to compensate and not to leave you alone he thought the most reasonable solution.

"Chrono go take care of them." "Again?" "Yes, again, now go."

Kurono was already used to this, and was starting to get a little close to you than he was before.

Not that close guys, this arrow bitch is faithfull friend of Overhaul. He sees you as a available friend, and if Overhaul trust you, he can as well.

Well you made his job less than boring anyway so he was at least grateful.

But when he entered and saw you wearing one of Chisaki's coat he couldn't helo but snicker and in sarcasm say.

"Boss you just ordered from your office to watch over (Y/N), what are you doing in here?"

You couldn't miss the joke so you put your best serious face and sayed in the most cold tone of voice as possible.

"Is that really from your interest Chrono? Don't make me answer such an stupid question like that."

Chrono didn't expect it for you to just impersonate Chisaki like that.

Kurono Hari was laughing.

You couldn't help but laugh too as you mentioned for him to wait just a minute.

After some time, Hari almost quacked in laughter when he saw you wearing the exact same outfit that his friend always used, except for the plague mask.

That's okay! You found a black surgeon mask to substitute.

"Why the hell are you laughing Chronostasis?" You still maintened your act.

Kurono gasped for breath saying something like "this is too good to be true." And picked his phone and oppened the camera to start recording you.

"Kai have to see this." "Agreed"

Chisaki was reading some papers when he realized it wasn't that much work he expected and relaxed at the thought of getting a break earlier.

Maybe you wouldn't be that sad at him

He was close to finish when his cellphone buzzed. A message, no, a video from Chrono? What the hell? He was supposed to be watching you not fouling around.

When he oppened the video he saw your figurine with an similiar; and his coat of course; outfit he was wearing. He arched an eyebrow muttering "what in actual-?"

That's when he saw the hand of Chrono aproaching your figurine and you just suddenly slaped his hand away shouting "DON'T TOUCH ME!"

...were you two mocking him?

"What do you think of (Y/N) uh? Overhaul?" "Childish, a absolutely clingy pest." You said trying to contain your giggles.

He never said that. He was starting to get hurt.

"Sheesh hard words boss." "Yeah." You took off the black surgeon mask to show your smile "I am really lucky and blessed to have such an amazing and organized boyfriend." You smiled sweetly at the camera, already knowing that Chisaki would be seeing this.

Unfair attack on his heart. Un-fucking-fair attack.

Somehow, he found himself watching the video over and over again watching and commenting silently over your "failures on acting" but cracking an smile every now and then.

"That's definitely not how I scold someo- dear god did they just scrunched her nose in fake disgust? Fucking adorable shit-"

You're breaking the doctor.

The only thing he really didn't like it was Chrono trying to touch you

"Arrow bastard stay away from my SO..."

He actually tested that.

Chrono left him on read.

He was pissed.

He came back that day and just asked you straight forward.

"You committed some mistakes on my persona dearest, better stay as my angel." He patted your head as he yanked his jacket from you.

This men, only in private, will try to imitate your voice once. ONCE. And you're forbidden to record or to even comment to anyone. He wasn't made for this, he regreted even on thinking about it.

Chrono survived guys he is his friend but Chisaki almost overhauled him in rage

[bearogenes]

Bearogenes on Freedom.

Hi sir, how can I stop worrying about knowing I'll never find someone because I think it wont happen and I'm not doing anything to make it happen? I'm venting, you don't have to answer, srry.

I’m well aware that I never have to answer in the common use of the word but I may find something that needs talking about either to the person who wrote or to the audience at large who may not know they need to hear what I’m about to say. You, for instance. I can’t know if you’ll ever see your real answer, but I’m attempting to get away from ‘ask’ replies because I can’t share them again. Tumblr has always thought that asks were ‘one and done’ never to be seen again where I use questions and answers as teaching moments and those seldom ‘go away’.

That’s me, struggling with the inevitability of all this being reduced to dust at the whim of another. Part of me wants to embrace that and draw my sand paintings that will return to nothingness and part of me is really cranky about that idea. It’s this odd paradox because I’ve already changed my feelings about this place and my work here. You can’t expect things to last forever when they are placed in someone else’s hands.

Long ago I learned that lesson in a very hard way. I gave much more than my love to someone, I gave them my trust and faith and those were not the hands to which such were meant to be entrusted even as an offering of affection. I learned a great deal about myself through the healing process I put myself through in the wake of that relationship but most important of which was the realization that the truth was that ‘I’ was never in his care.

I came out of that wondering who I was, what I was ‘worth’ and if I would ever ‘love’ again. The abuse was strong enough to make me forget myself and anything that meant before it. He had, in essence, taken white out and blotted out the very idea of me and replaced it with a collage of words and labels and things he needed me to be so that he could retain control. After a time, those things piled on your skin become your skin and hurt just as badly to scrape away which was my initial instinct.

When I broke free I wanted to rip everything apart, including my identity, because it all seemed to be his and not mine. Nothing would give however, no matter how hard I tore at it: the chains were unbreakable and all I saw was the image of me reduced to a broken husk laying on my bed weeping alone because that was my ‘worth’. In reality, I was free of nothing. Not even free from there being more abuse because, as is their intent, it then comes from your hands and by your own words.

The cage that held me in prison and whip that punished me had both become my own words and what I believed of myself.

I was my jailer, warden of the prison I created with the things he had given me.In looking back, I was far better at it than he could ever be because for him to do so required that I give him fragile, soft things, but for me to do it required nothing at all. I built my crow’s cage out of ideas and words and belief. It had become my reality, born of his desire but perpetuated by my own fears about myself and all he need do to keep me that way was remind me that I was that way at all.

The result of this is an intimate understanding of prisons, of the cages we build to protect ourselves because as they keep us in they also keep ‘them’ out. I recognize the signs of them in others, some who don’t even know they are imprisoned at all even though they are truly slaves to their ‘words’.

You see, there I find you in your cage and so I will teach you how I became free.

You cannot tear your ideas away, cannot peel off the layers of beliefs and deceptions no matter who they originate from. They have been there far too long and like an unchanged bandage have merged with the wound they were initially meant to help heal. Yes, even ‘good things’ can turn foul regardless of their intention if they are not ‘changed out’ by examining them or replacing them with newer (cleaner) ones down the road. So it is with your thoughts about yourself.

Note my lack of concern about partnering or ‘mating’ or relationships here. Unless your aim is bumping two cages together and calling it love then you’re not in a place where you can start the journey toward real love which requires both equality and freedom. Love is, at it’s most basic level, a choice and choice requires freedom but you have yet to find yours. I will not condemn you to cage rattling and swinging in desperation attempting to join hands with another prisoner. I will instead put the key within reach and leave the choice to you.

Even if you do not feel ready to begin, a feeling that may never come on it’s own, now is the time because coming to the point where you wrote a stranger on the internet is a clear sign that change must begin now. That you needed to vent, to express not only the desire but the frustration in being unable to ‘reach’ it and then retracted it is where I heard the echo of a rattled cage. It’s time to be free of that.

The first thing you must do is stop. 

Not as easy as it sounds when the desire to be somewhere, be it within an idea like love or a physical place, is so strong but stop you must. It’s the only way to do what must be done next which is to dissolve the real chains binding you: the ones you have placed, by permission or creation, on yourself. You’ve become a slave to an idea and from that position can never truly possess what you desire.

Breathe deeply, sit quietly if possible and if not then find music that brings a sense of peace or calmness. Think carefully now about the words your cage is built of and write them all out one at a time. You need to do this step physically, on paper not digitally, and each on their own sheet by themselves. I want you to do this while being aware of ‘stray’ thoughts because those are the inner voice trying to express itself once more.

Take note of how the whole process feels. 

Is it pointless? Is writing them all out on their own sheets a waste of resources and time? Does it just seem stupid to do things like this because you know there’s some trick to it, some gimmick? That you don’t really think it’s something you can do even if you ‘figure it out”?

Do this for a few minutes, nothing more than that and don’t stress over ‘getting it’ just yet. Simply do what you’ve been told and then sit with those papers for a little bit without judging them. When you’ve done that: continue the lesson.

No, really, do that first then come back.

Look at the things you’re telling yourself. No matter what they are.This next step  isn’t about writing, it’s not even about the words on the paper: It’s about the paper itself. Instead of thinking about what’s on it, we’ll come to those later, I want you to look at how empty those pages are, how much waste there is surrounding those words: look at the negative space they create in your life that could be filled with something else.

That is what these words do, they create emptiness by pushing away everything else. It doesn’t even matter what the words are. Be it ‘loneliness’, ‘longing’, or any other statement about how you feel about anything. Those words aren’t being said by anyone else here but you. You thought them. You took your hands and created them out in the world so they could be seen and, if found by some chance, seen by someone else too. They can now be given to another but I want you to think about that idea.

Why would you do that?

WHY would you ever even consider giving THOSE words to someone? Who would ever want such a thing? If they were given to you by another, would YOU want them? I don’t think you would and neither would anyone else. They may ‘accept’ them, but for them to be the desired thing you could give them.. no. I don’t believe that would be the case at all. No one wants such even in their own lives let alone from someone else’s life.

Yet this is what you do, by accident or design, when you project those feelings as the idea of who you are. You are reaching out with your prison’s walls instead of your finger tips. This is why things always feel ‘out of reach’, why nothing seems to ‘feel’ right because you aren’t truly able to grasp them yet. The first real step to being able to do so is to see the prison around you and now, I suspect, you have started that process by being able to not only see, but to touch, the words that form it and that they come from within you.

Well that’s great. I’m in a prison that I can’t break out of without someone giving me a key. Now what?

A man who knows he is in prison has more freedom than a man who refuses to see the bars of his cell. By seeing it, recognizing it, and knowing where it truly exists, you can take the next steps and begin the journey toward the freedom you need to reach your goals. I, as an ‘other’, cannot walk the path for you because it is a journey you must choose to take on your own.

 I need you to hear the rattling of the cage your thoughts are making while you do all this. It’s an important part of the process.That is why I can only place the ‘key’ within your reach. You have to choose to ‘take it’ and use it but to use it you must know a little bit more about the key itself. 

Ask yourself: 

What has ‘he’, this stranger on the internet, done by giving me this answer? Is THIS the key?

No, it’s not. Even if I would wish it to be, it isn’t. If you think hard about it, it’s not like anyone can reach out and physically touch your cage or place a ‘real’ object before you to use. So what then must they key be?

The prison is made of words, ideas being complex structures constructed out of words, but you cannot dismantle ideas with any other means than that which created it. To borrow a reference:

You must take it back to the fires in which it was forged.

If that’s true, can someone actually place the key anywhere but me or can they simply point out that I already had it? Note the use of can, because I do mean actually capable of doing something. Would? Certainly. I’m sure there are many people in your life who would love to free you from your cage, or at least open the door, but they cannot.

Even if they could, it would all depend on you seeking to leave the comfortable familiarity of it’s dimensions. It’s safe in there. Nothing can touch you, nothing can reach through or beyond those bars your ideas have created no matter how much part of you might wish them to.

You cannot take a hammer to the cage, cannot ‘blow it up’ by any means possible from outside it. It’s an impenetrable, borrowing a phrase again, fortress of solitude. 

What I can do is help you see the cage, learn what it is made of and pass on the way by which it can be dissolved because it cannot be ‘destroyed’. To do so would leave splinters to fester and allow it means to return. To be truly free of it you must utterly and completely reduce it to what it was made of and then erase those things.

Those pages with words and wasted space? Here we come back to them at last. Take markers, pens, colored pencils, anything not the same color (yet) as the words you wrote originally. One page at a time, in random scribbles write out whatever comes to mind that you would rather have, experience, or do as an activity instead of those words. Let them pour out on the page as words, shapes, sketches and doodles, the more creative and expressive the better but all the while leaving THAT word alone.

Don’t ignore it but don’t touch it yet. For now, pile everything else around it that you want, need or just imagine would be something you’d like to do. I cannot tell you what goes there because like the words that construct your prison, the key must be forged from the same material and I cannot directly interact with that. This part is entirely within you as the architect of the prison, you must be the smith of the Key.

Do that to every single page you left empty but that word. Fill them ALL. It’s ok if ideas repeat. Pass no judgment on what you fill the page with. Remember to not focus on the word but to fill the space around it with as much as you can. This is why digital doesn’t work. You can’t create such things with zeros and ones. It must be forged with joy and tears and perhaps paper cuts and revisions of words you misspell. It must be crafted of you.

This is a monumental task, I know, but that’s what it truly takes to be free.

You’re almost to the end now and the next step is to take all those papers covered in your feelings and go back and look at them all one last time. Think carefully on those things you’ve placed outside the cage of those words. That’s what you’ve done here, you’ve looked at the words that bind you and at what they keep you from truly having the freedom to experience.

How do they measure up now? Is that one word worth the rest? I can’t imagine the balance of the equation here laying on the side of what is instead of what could be. There’s no guarantee you’ll ever do all those things but I can promise that you’ll never get the chance if you remain bound by these ideas.

The final step is not to throw those pages away, they are filled with FAR more than the one word that keeps you and so cannot be simply discarded or destroyed, but to connect those words at last to the ones outside them. Take those colors and draw around the letters of those words, cover over the letters with the meaning that is found beyond them, but do not erase them. They are part of you and should not be destroyed but must be put into perspective. 

Take that which YOU feel is ‘ugly’ and keeps you alone and make it something beautiful, make them part of you again instead of being projected into the world around you.

Own the cracked and broken parts of yourself and your life, the jagged edges and things you’ve spent far too much time with to simply disown, and learn how they fit among all the other things you would have in your life. Redraw the borders of your world but removing the ability of such words to define your existence for you. 

They may never ‘vanish’, but they will lose their power to keep you imprisoned. I cannot promise anything in all of this beyond the simple truth that so long as these words hold so much power they will keep you from what you seek. You wish to be free from worry that you are not ‘struggling’ enough, I say that you are seeking in the wrong direction. 

I have given you all I can here. Beyond this you must do the work, forge the key and remove the bars that keep you from the things you would fill your life with. 

To truly find love you must be free to love.

To learn to stop worrying you must put it into perspective and own the fears that make you worry so. 

Now here, at the very end I have one last thing to say: 

Do not be sorry for reaching out. 

You are worthy of the reply, but more than this, you are worthy of the time to help you find the answer you need. That is why I have taken so long, walked down so many roads, with you just now.

You have my best wishes, and my hopes, going forward.

-Bearogenes 

[salt-dads]

Harry Potter 😊

i’m gonna be upfront and say that i’ve only read up to prisoner of azkaban, but i’ve watched all the movies, so im so srry i don’t deserve to do this

the character i least understand: i don’t have one?

interactions i enjoyed the most: cedric and v at the grave in goblet of fire. he deadass asks “who are you” like boi wym that’s the dark lord what kind of savagery is that. i also like when mrs. weasley is defending ginny from bellatrix and she’s like “not my daughter you bitch” i was whooping and hollering

the character who scares me the most: they aren’t really a character but the dementors or actually u know what bellatrix bc she crazy wild 

the character who is mostly like me: the dementors. i, too, am a foul creature and suck the life out of people and things

hottest looks character: hands down voldemort and i’ll fight anyone who says otherwise.

one thing i dislike about my fave character: he’s the main evil b, man, but i still love him

one thing i like about my hated character: i don’t really hate anyone tbh

a quote or scene that haunts me: when snape died and harry got his tear and it showed what really happened

a death that left me indifferent: none wym i cried at all of them

a character i wish died but didn’t: lucius 

my ship that never sailed: drarry