#the claw marks ……the claw marks……..

[yesornopolls]

The article is under the cut because paywalls suck

This is an edited transcript of an audio essay on “The Ezra Klein Show.” You can listen to the conversation by following or subscribing to the show on the NYT Audio App, Apple, Spotify, Amazon Music, YouTube, iHeartRadio or wherever you get your podcasts.

If you want to understand the first few weeks of the second Trump administration, you should listen to what Steve Bannon told PBS’s “Frontline” in 2019:

Steve Bannon: The opposition party is the media. And the media can only, because they’re dumb and they’re lazy, they can only focus on one thing at a time. … All we have to do is flood the zone. Every day we hit them with three things. They’ll bite on one, and we’ll get all of our stuff done. Bang, bang, bang. These guys will never — will never be able to recover. But we’ve got to start with muzzle velocity. So it’s got to start, and it’s got to hammer, and it’s got to — Michael Kirk: What was the word? Bannon: Muzzle velocity.

Muzzle velocity. Bannon’s insight here is real. Focus is the fundamental substance of democracy. It is particularly the substance of opposition. People largely learn of what the government is doing through the media — be it mainstream media or social media. If you overwhelm the media — if you give it too many places it needs to look, all at once, if you keep it moving from one thing to the next — no coherent opposition can emerge. It is hard to even think coherently.

Donald Trump’s first two weeks in the White House have followed Bannon’s strategy like a script. The flood is the point. The overwhelm is the point. The message wasn’t in any one executive order or announcement. It was in the cumulative effect of all of them. The sense that this is Trump’s country now. This is his government now. It follows his will. It does what he wants. If Trump tells the state to stop spending money, the money stops. If he says that birthright citizenship is over, it’s over.

Or so he wants you to think. In Trump’s first term, we were told: Don’t normalize him. In his second, the task is different: Don’t believe him.

Trump knows the power of marketing. If you make people believe something is true, you make it likelier that it becomes true. Trump clawed his way back to great wealth by playing a fearsome billionaire on TV; he remade himself as a winner by refusing to admit he had ever lost. The American presidency is a limited office. But Trump has never wanted to be president, at least not as defined in Article II of the U.S. Constitution. He has always wanted to be king. His plan this time is to first play king on TV. If we believe he is already king, we will be likelier to let him govern as a king.

Don’t believe him. Trump has real powers — but they are the powers of the presidency. The pardon power is vast and unrestricted, and so he could pardon the Jan. 6 rioters. Federal security protection is under the discretion of the executive branch, and so he could remove it from Anthony Fauci and Mike Pompeo and John Bolton and Mark Milley and even Brian Hook, a largely unknown former State Department official under threat from Iran who donated time to Trump’s transition team. It was an act of astonishing cruelty and callousness from a man who nearly died by an assassin’s bullet — as much as anything ever has been, this, to me, was an X-ray of the smallness of Trump’s soul — but it was an act that was within his power.

But the president cannot rewrite the Constitution. Within days, the birthright citizenship order was frozen by a judge — a Reagan appointee — who told Trump’s lawyers, “I have difficulty understanding how a member of the bar would state unequivocally that this is a constitutional order. It just boggles my mind.” A judge froze the spending freeze before it was even scheduled to go into effect, and shortly thereafter, the Trump administration rescinded the order, in part to avoid the court case.

What Bannon wanted — what the Trump administration wants — is to keep everything moving fast. Muzzle velocity, remember. If you’re always consumed by the next outrage, you can’t look closely at the last one. The impression of Trump’s power remains; the fact that he keeps stepping on rakes is missed. The projection of strength obscures the reality of weakness. Don’t believe him.

You could see this a few ways: Is Trump playing a part, making a bet or triggering a crisis? Those are the options. I am not certain he knows the answer. Trump has always been an improviser. But if you take it as calculated, here is the calculation: Perhaps this Supreme Court, stocked with his appointees, gives him powers no peacetime president has ever possessed. Perhaps all of this becomes legal now that he has asserted its legality. It is not impossible to imagine that bet paying off.

But Trump’s odds are bad. So what if the bet fails and his arrogations of power are soundly rejected by the courts? Then comes the question of constitutional crisis: Does he ignore the court’s ruling? To do that would be to attempt a coup. I wonder if they have the stomach for it. The withdrawal of the Office of Management and Budget’s order to freeze spending suggests they don’t. Bravado aside, Trump’s political capital is thin. Both in his first and second terms, he has entered office with approval ratings below that of any president in the modern era. Gallup has Trump’s approval rating at 47 percent — about 10 points beneath Joe Biden’s in January 2021.

There is a reason Trump is doing all of this through executive orders rather than submitting these same directives as legislation to pass through Congress. A more powerful executive could persuade Congress to eliminate the spending he opposes or reform the civil service to give himself the powers of hiring and firing that he seeks. To write these changes into legislation would make them more durable and allow him to argue their merits in a more strategic way. Even if Trump’s aim is to bring the civil service to heel — to rid it of his opponents and turn it to his own ends — he would be better off arguing that he is simply trying to bring the high-performance management culture of Silicon Valley to the federal government. You never want a power grab to look like a power grab.

But Republicans have a three-seat edge in the House and a 53-seat majority in the Senate. Trump has done nothing to reach out to Democrats. If Trump tried to pass this agenda as legislation, it would most likely fail in the House, and it would certainly die before the filibuster in the Senate. And that would make Trump look weak. Trump does not want to look weak. He remembers John McCain humiliating him in his first term by casting the deciding vote against Obamacare repeal.

That is the tension at the heart of Trump’s whole strategy: Trump is acting like a king because he is too weak to govern like a president. He is trying to substitute perception for reality. He is hoping that perception then becomes reality. That can only happen if we believe him.

The flurry of activity is meant to suggest the existence of a plan. The Trump team wants it known that they’re ready this time. They will control events rather than be controlled by them. The closer you look, the less true that seems. They are scrambling and flailing already. They are leaking against one another already. We’ve learned, already, that the O.M.B. directive was drafted, reportedly, without the input or oversight of key Trump officials — “it didn’t go through the proper approval process,” an administration official told The Washington Post. For this to be the process and product of a signature initiative in the second week of a president’s second term is embarrassing.

But it’s not just the O.M.B. directive. The Trump administration is waging an immediate war on the bureaucracy, trying to replace the “deep state” it believes hampered it in the first term. A big part of this project seems to have been outsourced to Elon Musk, who is bringing the tactics he used at Twitter to the federal government. He has longtime aides at the Office of Personnel Management, and the email sent to nearly all federal employees even reused the subject line of the email he sent to Twitter employees: “Fork in the Road.” Musk wants you to know it was him.

The email offers millions of civil servants a backdoor buyout: Agree to resign and in theory, at least, you can collect your paycheck and benefits until the end of September without doing any work. The Department of Government Efficiency account on X described it this way: “Take the vacation you always wanted, or just watch movies and chill, while receiving your full government pay and benefits.” The Washington Post reported that the email “blindsided” many in the Trump administration who would normally have consulted on a notice like that.

I suspect Musk thinks of the federal work force as a huge mass of woke ideologues. But most federal workers have very little to do with politics. About 16 percent of the federal work force is in health care. These are, for instance, nurses and doctors who work for the Veterans Affairs department. How many of them does Musk want to lose? What plans does the V.A. have for attracting and training their replacements? How quickly can he do it?

The Social Security Administration has more than 59,000 employees. Does Musk know which ones are essential to operations and unusually difficult to replace? One likely outcome of this scheme is that a lot of talented people who work in nonpolitical jobs and could make more elsewhere take the lengthy vacation and leave government services in tatters. Twitter worked poorly after Musk’s takeover, with more frequent outages and bugs, but its outages are not a national scandal. When V.A. health care degrades, it is. To have sprung this attack on the civil service so loudly and publicly and brazenly is to be assured of the blame if anything goes wrong.

What Trump wants you to see in all this activity is command. What is really in all this activity is chaos. They do not have some secret reservoir of focus and attention the rest of us do not. They have convinced themselves that speed and force is a strategy unto itself — that it is, in a sense, a replacement for a real strategy. Don’t believe them.

I had a conversation a couple months ago with someone who knows how the federal government works about as well as anyone alive. I asked him what would worry him most if he saw Trump doing it. What he told me is that he would worry most if Trump went slowly. If he began his term by doing things that made him more popular and made his opposition weaker and more confused. If he tried to build strength for the midterms while slowly expanding his powers and chipping away at the deep state where it was weakest.

But he didn���t. And so the opposition to Trump, which seemed so listless after the election, is beginning to rouse itself.

There is a subreddit for federal employees where one of the top posts reads: “This non ‘buyout’ really seems to have backfired. I’ll be honest, before that email went out, I was looking for any way to get out of this fresh hell. But now I am fired up to make these goons as frustrated as possible.” As I write this, it’s been upvoted more than 39,000 times and civil servant after civil servant is echoing the initial sentiment.

In Iowa this week, Democrats flipped a State Senate seat in a district that Trump won easily in 2024. The attempted spending freeze gave Democrats their voice back, as they zeroed in on the popular programs Trump had imperiled. Trump isn’t building support; he’s losing it. Trump isn’t fracturing his opposition; he’s uniting it.

This is the weakness of the strategy that Bannon proposed and Trump is following. It is a strategy that forces you into overreach. To keep the zone flooded, you have to keep acting, keep moving, keep creating new cycles of outrage or fear. You overwhelm yourself. And there’s only so much you can do through executive orders. Soon enough, you have to go beyond what you can actually do. And when you do that, you either trigger a constitutional crisis or you reveal your own weakness.

Trump may not see his own fork in the road coming. He may believe he has the power he is claiming. That would be a mistake on his part — a self-deception that could doom his presidency. But the real threat is if he persuades the rest of us to believe he has power he does not have.

The first two weeks of Trump’s presidency have not shown his strength. He is trying to overwhelm you. He is trying to keep you off-balance. He is trying to persuade you of something that isn’t true. Don’t believe him.

You can listen to this conversation by following “The Ezra Klein Show” on NYT Audio App, Apple, Spotify, Amazon Music, YouTube, iHeartRadio or wherever you get your podcasts. View a list of book recommendations from our guests here.

[seungisms]

🖇️📁 𝐒𝐊𝐙 … 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄𝐒 𝐓𝐎 𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: smut, do not interact if you’re under 18

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: unprotected sex, semi-public sex, dry humping, oral (female receiving)

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: ...or how skz likes to kiss you inside and outside of the bedroom! swear this was meant to be pure fluff but my finger slipped oops 😮‍💨 ngl i got kinda carried away so this is extremely nsfw - sorry, i can’t help myself when it comes to these pussy munchers 

𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐍

his favourite past time is making out with you

so you best believe he goes all in

no way he’s half assing it

loves slow, lazy makeouts at night when he’s all tired and stressed from work, forgetting all his worries as soon as he gets your pretty lips on his

sits with you on your little worn out sofa, arm slung around the back of it to keep you tucked into his side, jaw working your mouth open

real slow and gentle with it, groaning into your mouth when you nip and sigh cutely against him - hands bunching up his shirt to pull him even closer into you

could sit with you like that for hours

and when you break away to suggest going to bed cause you both have to be up early the next day, he just chases after your swollen lips with a pout on his face, muttering ‘just five more minutes’ before shoving his tongue down your throat again

and five minutes always turns into another half hour with this guy

he just can’t get enough of you :(

FOREHEAD KISSES!!

also loves to give you little pecks on your neck and behind your ear whenever you’re cuddling

and will blow raspberries against your skin like the little shit he is

you better believe he pours every ounce of love he has for you into every little kiss

especially when he has your legs wrapped around his waist with his cock bumping into your cunt

lets out the filthiest groans and grunts into your mouth and doesn’t leave you alone for a minute, eating up all your little gasps for air

you’ll literally have to force this guy off you 

“chan honey, i can’t breathe.”

“i’m sorry 🥺 you just taste so good 🥺🥺🥺”

he’s obsessed

this guy just has to keep his mouth busy or else he’ll go insane

not able to keep his lips to himself

they’ll be attached to your tits, collarbones, neck; literally everywhere, licking and nipping at the pretty skin when you sink down painfully slow on his dick, hitting so deep inside you it knocks the wind out of you

he mostly does it to muffle his needy whimpers, strong arms arms snaking around your waist to pull you even closer to his chest, so close you’re practically one

and with every sink of his teeth in your skin and desperate hump of his hips - nudging his cock even deeper into your tight, hot cunt - has you trembling in his arms, brain cloudy and fogged and full of him

hardly able to do anything but sit pretty on his cock and take it, gasping and whining and clawing at him

until his lips are making their way back up to your neck, pressing a sloppy kiss against your lips just as you finally cream on his length, spurring a few more desperate thrusts of his own until he’s pumping you full

and your sweet little whimpers don’t even get a chance to slip past your lips before they’re being swallowed up by him

extremely gentle with you afterwards, pulling his softening cock out of your warmth and shushing your whine when his cum gushes out of you and onto your thighs

pressing a few more heated kisses against your mouth before they’re back on your chest, kissing the marks he left better

𝐋𝐄𝐄 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐇𝐎

good luck getting this guy to kiss you in public

number one hater of pda

loves riling you up and watching as you tug on his arm to get his attention, a cute whine leaving you when he doesn’t so much as spare you a second glance

he just wants to see you beg first :(

but the second he sees a little pout thrown his way and your eyes staring up at him all needy and pretty he’s f o l d i n g

he gets so carried away too

so you won’t be able to even give him a little kiss throughout the day cause as soon as you try to walk away he’s pulling you back flush against his chest, ignoring your protests before planting his lips onto yours - hand stroking the curve of your back making you melt into him

and he loves seeing that dumb fucking look on your face when he slowly pulls away, eyes hyper focused on his lips and itching to kiss them until they’re bruised and swollen and only craving you

“if you’re gonna kiss me at least do it right.”

yeah he just can’t help himself when it comes to you

gets to the point where you’ll have to leave the house without even saying goodbye to him cause you know you’ll end up in his lap with your skirt bunched around your waist, his pretty lips working you up for the next half hour if you do

loses his mind whenever you wear lipgloss

loves the sight of your lipstick stain all over his face whenever you makeout, tasting your strawberry lipgloss on his tongue, sticky and pretty pink

he’s all over them whenever he’s stretching you out nice and good around his cock

quietens your desperate gasps of pleasure with a rough kiss, all open-mouthed and sloppy as he fucks up into you

telling you to stfu or he’ll stop

but you just can’t help yourself when he’s so big and hitting so deep 

he’ll reach down and rub his fingers against your nub as you close in around his length - panting into the kiss as you deepen it even more, tongue pushing into his mouth and lapping up his taste

king of lip biting!!

takes your bottom lip between his teeth when he feels you’re too far gone, eyes unfocused and dazed as you struggle to keep yourself grounded, hands all over his back, arms ass - anywhere you can reach

just to feel

and his little tug on your lips has you coming back to reality, cunt pulsing and hot as he slows inside of you, pulling away just to ask,

“you okay baby? sure you can take what i’m giving you? looks like you’re lost in that pretty little head yours.” and he’s sososo smug about it

you can do nothing but pull him back to your lips, just wanting him to shut up and fuck you like he means it, making him grunt into your mouth as he brings his hips back to their wild pace

likes playing with your clit when he’s inside you too, soaking his fingers up in your wetness just to bring them up to your mouth not a second later

and you just can’t stop bouncing on his cock, moaning lewdly when he shoves them between your lips, kissing and sucking on the digits in desperate need

nearly nuts right then and there when your eyes roll into the back of your head from tasting yourself, pulling them out just to replace them with his mouth - tasting your pussy on his tongue

makes his cock swell up even more 

and it won’t be long until he’s panting your insides with sticky, white ropes of cum

his mouth continuing to eat up your begs

𝐒𝐄𝐎 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐁𝐈𝐍

wishes kissing you all day paid a mortgage cause if it did that man would have you TORTURED 

he’s just a simple man

and he has one simple ideology

pretty lips / they’re gonna get kissed

and what is he supposed to do when you have the prettiest lips ever

just begging to be kissed

bro will have your lipgloss LICKED off you

he’s so playful with it

likes to squish your cheeks between his fingers and kiss your pouted lips over and over until you literally have to fight him off

he’s so annoying

the only form of currency this guy accepts is in the form of kisses

YOUR kisses

so if you ever want smth this guy will make you beg for it

doesn’t matter if you’re in public

this fucker gets a kick out of embarrassing you

points at his puckered lips and giggles like a little shit until you finally roll your eyes and give in

and he just can’t help himself but get so lost in the sweet taste of you that he’ll forget you’re in the middle of the fucking mall and full on making out with you

and laughs hysterically when you get scolded by a worker

such a brat istg

but how can you not possibly give him what he wants when he’s looking at you all 🥺

likes kissing you all slow and sloppy on his off days, cozied up in his bed and completely wrapped up in him - his clothes, his arms, his lips coaxing pretty sounds from you

pulls away every now and then just leave a few more tired pecks against your lips - smiling all smitten against them and pulling you even tighter into him

has to keep his lips busy or he’ll crash tf out

l i v e s for fucking you on his studio chair, sweat and gasps filling up your senses as his cock hits all those sweet spongy spots inside you - watching your head loll back and your eyes roll into the back of your skull - and what’s a man to do when the skin of your neck is looking so delicious and kissable

he’ll be groaning and grunting and muttering the most vile shit into the crook of your neck, sweet kisses being placed on your jaw as he soaks up all your sighs

loves seeing your pretty tits all marked up

and can feel himself get hard again when he sees them once he empties himself inside of you

definitely nuts as soon as you mark him up

this man literally makes out with your pussy

all messy and full of spit and cum and he just gets absolutely lost in you

pulls away now and again to kiss the inside of your thigh, leaning his cheek against it after to look up at you

and just loves how easy he’s able to make you fall apart on his tongue

watching your chest heave and hands claw at the bedsheets, looking for anything to ground your fucked out form before his fingers are intertwining with his own, urging you to meet his pretty eyes

“you okay sweetheart? haven’t even got you on my cock yet and look at you.”

and as soon as you nod numbly he’s diving straight back in, nose bumping and leaving hot open-mouthed kissing against your cunt - coaxing all those sobs and whimpers out of you like your pussy was made for him

𝐇𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐇𝐘𝐔𝐍𝐉𝐈𝐍

staying strong on my tease!hyunjin agenda 🗣️🗣️🗣️

likes to brush his lips against your own as if he’s gonna kiss you, only to tut mockingly before pulling back just when you melt into him

just to see the cute way you try to chase his lips with your own

bro thinks its the funniest thing ever when you huff and try to walk away

before he’s pulling you back against his chest and silencing your complaints with a long, needy kiss

and before he knows it you’ve got him completely wrapped around your finger

cause he’s so head empty and all he can think about is the feel and taste of your sweet lips against his own

so when you even try to pull away he’s whining and chasing after you, begging you to just ditch your plans for the day and just makeout with him

and he will not stop annoying you until you finally cave

but if you decide to ignore him and leave him alone he will nonstop call and text you

“baby when are you getting home? i miss youuuu.”

and you just have to laugh cause he’s so unknowingly smitten for you

he just gets so drunk on your lips

if you go over two hours without seeing eachother he’s all over you

those lips will be KISSED believe me

he’s ready for your kiss no matter what

have you seen those lips

that shit is moisturised af

HAND PLACEMENT!!

likes to keep a hand tangled in your hair, titling your head slightly as he works your jaw open even more, breathing deeply and nipping at your bottom lip - his other hand laying flat on the curve of your spine, keeping you pressed tight against him

another to lose complete control, every time you guys makeout it’ll end with him inside you without fail

doesn’t matter where you are

he’s completely unhinged whenever he gets off stage after a performance 

all sweaty and full of adrenaline and soso desperate for you

you swear he’s never looked hotter

he zeroes in on you the second he steps into the room, ignoring anyone and everyone trying to get in his way

and you don’t even have time to congratulate him before he’s pressing into you - a long moan being grunted against your lips the second he gets a taste of you and your sweet mixture of lipgloss and cranberry soda - the hard erection of his cock bumping against your tummy

and he b e g s you to follow him into an empty dressing room or some tightly spaced supply closet, cause he feels like he’s gonna go insane and the feel of your lips moaning and panting against him is enough to work him up even more - bulge pressing hotly in the confines of his pants

bro does not wear underwear so he just whips it out the second he gets you alone

and as soon as he bottoms out inside of you you’re whimpering and withering against the wall he has you propped up on, squeezing your thighs from where they rested on his hips

and he can’t do much to quieten down your begs but press his lips against your own, swallowing up all your cries as he fucks up into you - drunk on the warmth of your hot cunt

“you’re gonna have to be quiet for me pretty girl, don’t want anyone else hearing those cute moans.”

gets so much in his own head and can’t think straight when you’re clamping down on him so snugly

he wouldn’t be able to escape even if he wanted to

so he finds it hard to keep kissing you, telling you to bury your face in his neck to muffle your cries

and there’s just lipstick and bite marks plastered all over him and he just knows his makeup artist is gonna be tearing her hair out tryna cover them all up later

gives you a final long kiss when he cums so deep inside you, grunting like a whore and your name falling off his lips like a prayer as he taints your insides with his seed

he just can’t wait to have you riding his dick later, letting out all those pretty noises you want

𝐇𝐀𝐍 𝐉𝐈𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐆

obsessed 

smitten

head over heels

whatever word there is to describe, its how han jisung feels about your lips

so it’s no surprise he just can’t help himself and keep his lips to himself

THE GOAT OF PDA

he couldn’t give a shit if you’re in public, this guy will sneak in a kiss any chance he gets

and you’ll have to scold him every time cause before you know it he’s completely kissed all your makeup off

but what’s a girl to do when your boyfriend is looking at you all needy and begging for attention

and you just can’t resist cause have you seen this mans lips??

bro is a babygirl and has a babygirl type pout on his face permanently 

he goes too far with it every time though

to the point where the other boys boo and throw imaginary rotten tomatoes at you and tell you to get a room

and he’s just like :)

and drags you away to kiss you some more

his fav activity hands down

hands will be ALL OVER YOU

on your ass, messing up your hair, dipping under your skirt - you name it, his hands are exploring it

and you’ll have to shoo him away every time cause he’ll just get too carried away and try to finger you in public

he’s such a sucker™ for you 

he just about melts whenever you’re the first to initiate a kiss/makeout

he’s all over you 24/7 so to see you chasing after him, all needy and cute whines is a big ego boost

he won’t be able to keep up his smug act for long though before you’re tugging him down by his shirt, an embarrassingly loud groan being choked out against your lips the second he feels your tongue licking and kissing away at him - and you’d roll your eyes at how desperate he’s being if you weren’t so busy tryna slip your hands into his pants

he’s such a needy boy so whenever he gets too overstimulated he’ll beg you to kiss him, his cock all red and swollen in your hand - leaking with precum and just begging you to finally sit on it

and he just wants to stay grounded and focused, his pretty eyes all teary looking up at him, heavy pants into your mouth when you lean down and work his lips open with your tongue

and he’s letting out the sluttiest little whimpers, bucking up into the hand fisted around his dick

small fucked out begs of “please angel, just move your hand, suck me off, sit on my dick - anything. i’ll take anything, just do something.”

and he just sounds so ruined the only thing you can do is smile mockingly against his lips, thumb pressing down on the slit of his cockhead causing him to tremble in your hold

by the time you’re done with him he’s all sticky and used, and he can barely respond to your comforting kiss

whimpering into it when your small praise of “you did so well sungie,” hits his ears

whenever he’s eating you out he’ll leave little pecks against the plush skin of your thighs to work you up, watching the way your pussy glistens so prettily the closer he gets

he’s fucking gone the second he clamps his mouth down on your pussy, eyes rolling into the back of his head and whining as the taste of you invades all his senses

plants a big messy kiss against your cunt before eating you out like a man starved 

someone feed him

𝐋𝐄𝐄 𝐅𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐗

soft boy™

loves loves loves kissing you in the morning

he thinks you’ve never looked prettier

with your hair all disheveled and eyes all sleepy, throwing him a tired smile as you cuddle into his side

and morning breath be damned cause he just can’t help himself from titling your head towards him, humming into your mouth as he leaves a loving kiss against it

doesn’t matter if he as work in an hour, he will take his time loving on you, ensuring every kiss he places is as meaningful as possible

kisses your eyelids, your forehead, your fingertips

anywhere he can reach

the way he kisses you is so affectionate each and every time, as if he’s silently telling you how much he loves you

he knows you have him wrapped around your finger, time slowing to a stop every time his lips come in contact with your own

and he’d rather be no where else, the slow buzz of the traffic outside droning on in the background as his lips capture yours again and again, snuggling you deeper into the sheets

kisses you as if you are both disconnected from the rest of the world

gets soso huffy whenever his phone dings while he’s lost in you, silencing it without even breaking away from you and you’re like

“lix, you were meant to be in work an hour ago.”

“just another minute.”

and you can’t even fight him on it cause his lips are so soft and addicting and you swear you could stay like this all day

literally will only pull away if chan barges in and tells him to get his ass into the studio already

oops

will not regret a thing though

will spend the rest of the day thinking about you and your pretty lips

all over you whenever he’s drunk

literally can’t help himself from kissing you any chance he gets, changbin will have to hold him back - reminding him you’re all in public and it probably isn’t approbate to corner your girlfriend against the wall and kiss her like no ones watching

and he’s just like ‘idccc, i just wanna kiss my pretty baby 😩😩😩”

acts like he’ll die if you don’t kiss him every five minutes

and will not do ANYTHING you ask until he’s rewarded with your sweet lips

gets so giggly and can’t stop smiling into your kisses

he’s so head over heels for you

and it shows in the way he fucks you too

even when he’s stretching you out all nice, he’s still so gentle with it

shushing your cries inbetween heated kisses, and leaving small pecks to the side of your head when he finally buries his cock to the hilt inside you - swearing you’re doing so well for him

extremely vocal

and no matter how much you tell him to stfu cause you’re sharing the dorm with the other boys he just won’t listen

letting out the prettiest mewls when you grind your cunt down onto his cock

so you’ll just have no choice but to eat up his noises, finding it hard to keep up with his needy tongue fucking coupled with the desperate, sloppy thrusts of his hips

could absolutely waste the day away on your lips :(

𝐊𝐈𝐌 𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐌𝐈𝐍

tries his absolute hardest to keep up his little tsundere act up

but the second you lean into him all teasingly, looking up at him beneath your lashes before planting those sweet lips against his own - he’s kicking his feet and twiddling his thumbs like a fucking schoolgirl 😭

can’t help but hum into your mouth, pulling you even closer against his chest and titling your head up to get better access to your kisses

and when you pull away he wouldn’t be able to fight off the coy smile that takes over his face

until he overhears hyunjin and changbin teasing him about how cute he looks when he’s in love

istg he tries to fight them

and god the amount of kisses it takes to subdue this man is criminal

but you eventually manage to convince him to not murder his hyungs, at least not in public

truly not into your small, little chaste kisses

loves his makeouts to be as hot and messy as possible, just wants to feel you fall apart in his hold

likes it when you take care of him when he’s had a bad day, sitting him down on your sofa and coaxing yourself on his lap

lets his head hang back against the back of the couch and eyes slip shut as your fingers massage through his tangled hair, lips painting his neck in marks before making your way up to his face, kissing away the stressed furrow between his brows

all the while whispering pretty words of praise

and with every kiss you leave against him he can feel the hot stiffening of his cock against your cunt

just loves having you sit pretty for him in his lap, quick to rid you both of your clothes to feel your bare pussy drag against his cock with every hump of your hips, groans and sighs being gasped into your sloppy kiss

and he’s more than happy to eat up every little noise you let you, every whimper from when his dick bumps into your entrance, nipping when you whine a little too loud - making sure to leave them all swollen and bruised with his need

his favourite type of kisses is when you’re stuffed full of cock

his lips will be everywhere all at once, just absolutely depraved and trying to urge more of those needy moans from your parted lips

likes kissing you when you can barely respond, watching in excitement when your eyes loll to the back of your head and tongue hangs slightly out of your mouth, legs trembling and back arching - feeling the tight fit of his dick pressing into his snug walls just begging you to gush around him

gasped whines not even getting the chance to breath before they’re being swallowed by his hungry kisses

bro eats all that shit up!!

and you can barely keep up with all his licking, teasing, biting - too focused on the movement of his hips fucking into you

and he’s sososo mean about it

“c’mon baby, not even gonna kiss me back? think i at least deserve it for making you feel so good.”

“gonna finally kiss me if i make you cum?”

and his words are just so nasty, laughing when you can do nothing but sob so beautifully, the stretch of his cock being just on the verge of a bit too much

but you wanna fight him on it so bad

cutting his laughing short when you drag him down by his dangling chain to press a hot kiss to his open mouth, legs wrapping around his waist even tighter to press his cock impossibly deeper inside of you

and he can’t even help but chuckle into your mouth like the bastard he is, dick finally hitting that familiar spot inside you, so deep and snug it has you twitching around him

and he’ll just keep kissing you as you cum around him

sometimes when he’s being extra mean to you he’ll kiss your forehead after, planting a soft one on your nose then your lips

telling how much of a good girl you were

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐉𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐈𝐍

worships the ground you walk upon istg

sometimes he thinks he’s coming onto you too strong so he tries to hold himself back when he’s kissing you 

but the second you wrap your arms around his shoulders and pull him firmly against you, fingers playing with the small hairs at the bottom of his neck, he just about loses it

always afraid to kiss you first so he leaves it up to you

and god he kisses so good

smiles into it and toys with the end of your pretty little skirt, nipping occasionally at your bottom lip to pull a gasp out of you

and you’re just like 🤨🤨 who taught you to kiss this good mf

genuinely think he’d be the best kisser in skz

he just takes his time with you

makes you feel so comforted and protected in his arms

bro will not leave for work until he makes sure you’ve been kissed all over, no matter how late he is

and he just spends the whole day unfocused, thinking about getting home to you and kissing you until you’re just as obsessed as he is

will n e v e r kiss you in front of the others though

treats you like a homie

guy held your hand once and never heard the end of it

probably got walked in on by changbin or smth while making out with you and got teased relentlessly

didn’t kiss you for a month straight after

he’s such a hermit and wraps himself up in his room all day playing video games

and the only way to get his attention is planting yourself pretty on his lap when he’s lounging on his gaming chair, doe eyes looking up at you all confused and lips parted ready to ask you what tf you think you’re doing before you’re shoving your tongue down his throat 

and you swear his controller nearly broke from how quick he flung that shit to grab fistful of your ass instead

ignoring his teammates shouts over the headset as he dies in whatever fuckass game he’s playing

he doesn’t care, all he can focus on is you, on his lap, working your pretty lips against his own

his kisses become so eager and rushed whenever he’s in the mood

you could be making ramen in the kitchen at 2am and this guy will pop a boner

presses himself up against you, his hard cock fitting perfectly between the crevice of your ass as he leaves sloppy kisses on the back of your neck, working his way up to your jaw

and he’ll never just ask you to fuck, he’ll just grind against you like a little bitch until you finally allow him to finally push your panties to the side and nudge into you

buries his head into the crook of your neck when he bottoms out - planting long kisses against your back from were he has you bent over - all pretty and keening for him

soaking up all your soft gasps and mewls, whimpering a mixture of his name and endless pleas as it all becomes a little too much 

© 𝐬𝐞𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐢𝐬𝐦𝐬 — 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝. 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠/𝐦𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐭𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝.

[yemmuis]

★ kento presses his palm into the mattress, his breaths coming out in harsh puffs of hot air against your forehead while his free hand squeezes your thigh. hes pushing his weepy tip against your entrance, trying to get you to relax for him while you're whining and denying that it will ever fit.

of course, its fit plenty of times before. you do this every damn time.

"kento, i swear 's gonna split me open this time," you whimper out, trying to squirm away from him. his tip just barely slides inside you, and its enough to make you gasp and fall quiet besides soft mewls and the heaving of your chest. "c'mon, my love, you've done it before, you can take it." he grits out, his nose brushing your pulse point while his hips thrust sloooowly forward. "stretch f'me. there you go." he murmurs, while his cock is stretching your pussy out so good. he feels like hes seeing god, his blushed tip nudging at your guts like hes gonna permanently mold you to the shape of him and ruin you for anyone else.

he'll never say that, though.

his hips shift forward again, and he pushes your legs apart, giving you a soft kiss and trying not to let his composure slip when he finally pushes his hips flush against yours.

"aww, look, see? you took me all the way." he breathes against your ear, kissing down your jaw and smoothing your hair back with his hand. hes always trying to keep his composure, even when he's this damn close to stuffing you full of his cum and babbling about how loud your pussy is when he's fucking you.

no, kento. that would be too harsh, wouldn't it?

"good job, my dear, you're doing so good. there you go, see, i told you she could take me. she always does, hm?" kento speaks softly into your ear, his fingers kneading at your hips while he sets up a steadier rhythm. "will you look at me, please?" he kisses along your collarbone while he speaks, gently sucking, not hard enough to leave a mark on your pretty skin. he doesn't like bruising you. kento presses his lips and tongue against a particularly sensitive spot on your neck, his hips a little rougher than usual with their steady rhythm. "open your eyes. please, i want to see your pretty eyes, beautiful." he whispers into your perspiring skin, and his hips snap up against yours, making you mewl out and claw at his arms. he pulls back from your neck and gently takes your face in his hand, voice husky and ragged. "look at me. go on, my love." and you cant deny him again, hesitantly opening bleary, glossed over eyes. and oh, what a sight your husband is, his eyes lidded and cheeks flushed, lips parted in ragged breathing and his hair sticking to his forehead in messy strands while he stares down at you. his cock practically gushes precum inside you when you look up at him with a fucked out expression, and he cant help but pull you into a sloppy, sticky kiss while jostling your thighs around his hips. his dick slides just a little deeper inside you at the new angle, kissing your g-spot with every thrust while hes swallowing all of your moans with his tongue against yours. kento can feel you squirming under him, twitching and letting out soft moans with every kiss of his tip to your cervix. he physically has to delay his own orgasm just long enough until he knows you've finished, until he cant pull a single more moan or drop of arousal out of you before hes cumming and stuffing you full.

kento reluctantly pulls away from your neck, lips pressing to yours in a clumsy, delirious kiss while he gives one more buck of his hips just to enjoy the way you squirm while his load oozes out of you. "see, my dear...? my beautiful wife always makes it fit for me. I told you it would."

thank you for reading !! this is my first post in a while ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ please reblog to help my stuff reach more people <3 tags :: @beanietopia @valicalliali @gojoscinnamonroll @xixflower @takumasimp @webism @voidnz

[celestial119]

Thick claw marks on my hips and thighs from where he pressed me harder into the sheets when his demon knot slipped in. I thought it was all a mere dream but now with the stench of sex in the morning light of my bedroom and the slick between my legs I’m not so sure <3

getting fucked by your sleep paralysis demon, frozen in place. you have no choice but to take him as he slams his monstrous cock into your warm, tight cunt over and over again, filling you up to the brim. waking up in the morning thinking what a weird dream you had until you feel his sticky white goo sliding down your thighs <3

[peachesofteal]

Tip of my Tongue - single mom fic Azriel/female reader

Original musing - based on/rewritten for this anthology

He hears the beginning of the conversation before he sees it.

"Eight copper marks." The merchant drawls, tone half soaked in disdain.

"Eight for five ... ? That's robbery."

"You're either good for it, or you can move along." Azriel's brow furrows. You're not wrong, it is robbery to charge that much for a measly five apples. The going rate is one for four, at the most. One copper mark is usually enough to buy a loaf of bread.

He shakes it off. Market value and bartering is not within his scope of interest. 

None of his business. 

"I can give you four."

"Not interested." He turns at that, looking over his shoulder to find the source of the back and forth, curious to see who the merchant is, the one gutsy enough to rip someone off. He expects to see some pompous High or Lesser Fae, a male with his nose in the air, a sneer scrawled across his lips. 

Instead, all he sees is you.

An Illyrian? You're rigid in your stance, a half stride away from the stall, hair and skin glowing in the midday sun, trying to face off with the extorter. The shadows make a rare daylight appearance, peering curiously through the crowd, assessing you with interest, and he cocks his head. You look like an Illyrian, almost, but... no wings, shorter stature. Why?��

Above all, you're beautiful, but it's marred with a bone deep exhaustion, expression kind but grim at the same time, impatience and stress battling for the brilliance shining in your eyes. His muscles tense as he sweeps the market looking for another, a male, shadows on high alert. It's not that Illyrians are forbidden from entering Velaris since its existence was exposed, it's just that they choose not to.

An Illyrian in the city could be cause for alarm, or at least, suspicion.

His breath catches in his chest when you shift your weight. 

There's a baby on your hip. A baby... with wings. Tiny, delicate, claw tipped wings. Membranes so thin, so fragile they're almost see through, flexing and fluttering while also trying to stay tucked together. 

The sight of them does something to him. Scrambles his mind, distracts him, nearly blackens his vision. He's not sure he understands what he's seeing at all.

What're you doing here? Are you alone? Is that your baby?

And why do you look so damn exhausted? Are you sick? Is there something wrong with you? 

It becomes abundantly clear why the merchant is trying to jack the price up on the produce.

Instinct takes over and he closes the distance between himself and the situation, coming to stand to your left, blackened tendrils snaking towards the merchant, and his face drains of color. He looms over you, lethal edge in his voice cutting to the quick. "She'll pay you the standard market price of one." You stiffen into stone, glancing at him once before looking down, and he doesn't miss how you curl your arms around the baby like you're trying to hide them. Protect them. He wonders if he should say something to put you at ease, but he can't find the words.

"O-of course, of course. Here," he scoops them into a net as quickly as possible, and shoves them across the counter, eyes still fixed on Azriel as he practically shakes behind the stall. It's the right thing to do, he assures himself, intervening. This male and his prices are predatory. He'll need to be reported to Rhys, probably looked into. 

It’s not his standard practice, the shadows hiss, he’s fair to others. 

Anger burns in the pit of his stomach. 

You’re still frozen, avoiding his attention, and the male glances at him hesitantly. "Your mark." Azriel murmurs, trying for an encouraging tone, but it comes out jagged, as his nature. For some reason, he has an urge to touch you, place his palm on your lower back for support, for comfort, for… he doesn’t know. 

It was none of his business. 

The merchant scuttles away, grumbling something about restocking under his breath, and shadow slowly dissipates, fanning out, following him, collecting all the necessary information. For another day. 

You don't turn to face Azriel. Shoulders bunched high beneath your ears, you're vibrating with tension. He’s rarely at a loss but something about this, you, is unsettling. "Are you alr-"

"I'm fine, thanks for... thanks for that." You shrug in the direction of the stall, but you still won't look at him. You stare at your feet, hand cupping the back of the baby's head, arm partially blocking them from view, though they twist in your grip, trying to track the sound of his voice.

"Do you-“

"I should get going." You cut him off, again, and physically turn away, half nodding over your shoulder. "Thanks again." The evasion catches him off guard but before he can say anything else, you're gone. Vanished into the crowd, easily lost among the sea of others.

Rose and pink pepper lingers on the wind in your wake, floral and sharp, sweet.

Hel.

[tojisprettylittlething]

ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ᴀ ᴘʀᴀɴᴋ, ʜᴜʜ?

jealous!boyfriend!Toji Fushiguro x fem!reader —𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘱𝘶𝘭𝘭 𝘢 𝘱𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘬 𝘰𝘯 𝘛𝘰𝘫𝘪 𝘣𝘺 𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘢𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢 𝘨𝘶𝘺’𝘴 𝘧𝘭𝘪𝘳𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘧𝘭𝘪𝘳𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬—𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘩𝘦’𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘢𝘮𝘶𝘴𝘦𝘥.

warnings: jealous!Toji, possessiveness, smut (MDNI), rough sex, spanking, mean!Toji, backshots that have you crying, degradation, mild dumbification, marking, overstimulation, a little bit of crying, slight aftercare (if you have a gun to your head), creampie, Toji’s dick is a problem, he’s so mean but he loves you.

word count: not that long, but filthy

a/n: You got a sick mind. I love it.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Toji wasn’t the jealous type.

At least, that’s what you thought.

Because here he was, lounging on the couch at this house party, legs spread wide, arm slung over the backrest, swirling the last of his drink while watching you flirt with another guy right in front of him.

And he was smiling.

That lazy, cocky, unsettling smirk that told you he was up to something.

Your whole plan had been to rile him up. Get under his skin. Maybe earn yourself some good, rough, jealous sex at the end of the night. You wanted to see him get possessive, to grab your waist, whisper some warning in your ear about how you belong to him.

But instead, he was entertaining it.

“You really got a way with words, don’tcha?” Toji drawled, raising a brow at the guy currently eating out of the palm of your hand.

The poor man—some dude whose name you hadn’t even caught—was completely oblivious, nervously laughing at Toji’s comment while still trying to win your attention.

You played along, tilting your head, running your fingers down your own arm as you giggled. “He’s funny, isn’t he, baby?”

Toji took a slow sip of his drink. “Oh yeah. Fuckin’ hilarious.”

Something about his tone made your stomach flip. That wasn’t a compliment. That was a warning.

Still, you doubled down, letting your hand brush against the guy’s arm, even batting your lashes up at him.

Toji just chuckled.

You were so screwed.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

The second you stepped into Toji’s house and in his room, the air shifted.

His hand was around your waist before the door even closed, a solid wall of muscle and heat pressed against your back.

“That was real cute, baby,” he muttered against your ear, voice like gravel, rough and deep and sending a shiver down your spine. “Real fuckin’ cute.”

“Toji,” you laughed, trying to turn in his grip, “it was a prank—”

A sharp smack landed on your ass. You yelped.

“A prank?” His tone was mocking now. He let go of you just long enough to spin you around and shove you forward. Your knees hit the mattress before you even realized what was happening.

“Toji, wait—”

“Bend over.”

You swallowed. Hard.

Your hands fisted into the sheets as you obeyed, laying your head onto the mattress. The rustle of his belt unbuckling was the only warning you got before his hands were yanking your hips back, forcing you into an arch, positioning you just how he wanted.

“So fuckin’ funny,” he muttered, pushing your skirt up, snapping the waistband of your panties. “Flirting with some dumb fuck. In front of me.”

“Toji, I told you—”

Another smack. Hard. Right over your panties. Your thighs clenched together on instinct.

“What was that, baby?”

“I—it was a prank,” you gasped, voice muffled by the bed. “Just wanted to—fuck—wanted to mess with you.”

A dark chuckle rumbled from his chest. “Mess with me, huh?”

He didn’t waste any more time.

Fabric tore. A startled gasp barely made it past your lips before he was pressing the tip of his cock against your soaked entrance, teasing, dragging it through your folds.

“You wanted my attention, baby?” His voice was dangerously low. “You got it.”

And then he thrust.

The force knocked the air from your lungs. Your fingers clawed at the sheets as his cock stretched you open, filling you to the brim in one brutal stroke.

“Toji—!”

“Too fuckin’ late for that,” he grunted, pulling back just enough to slam back in, knocking you forward. “Wanted to play games, huh? Thought that shit was funny?”

You could barely breathe, barely think, eyes rolling as he fucked into you with ruthless, bruising thrusts. Every snap of his hips had you seeing stars, his grip on your waist bruising, his cock dragging against that sensitive spot over and over.

“Toji—fuck, fuck—”

“You can’t even talk,” he mocked, voice laced with amusement and something dark. His hand fisted in your hair, yanking your head back just enough for his lips to brush against your ear. “That dumb little brain finally went quiet?”

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes. He was relentless, fucking you so deep, so rough, every stroke pushing you further into the mattress, pleasure and pain twisting into one.

“S’too much,” you whined, voice shaky.

“Too much?” he echoed, a smirk curling against your skin. “Nah, baby. You wanted this.”

He wasn’t wrong.

His grip tightened. His thrusts got meaner, deeper, his name spilling from your lips in broken, needy moans.

And when you came, it was a fucking mess—your body tensing, legs trembling, his name punched from your throat as you clenched around him.

But he didn’t stop.

Didn’t let up, not even a little, just kept fucking you through it, dragging out every last shockwave of pleasure until you were sobbing into the sheets, body shaking, words slurred.

“Shit, baby,” he muttered, voice husky. “So fuckin’ pretty like this. Cryin’ all for me.”

Your only response was a choked-out whimper.

And then he was cumming, groaning deep in his chest as he slammed into you one last time, spilling inside, making sure you felt every last drop.

You barely registered when he pulled out, when he gently turned you onto your side, one big hand running down your thigh in lazy circles.

“Next time you wanna prank me,” he murmured, pressing a kiss against your temple, “Think about this.”

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

a/n: you should be ashamed of yourself. but also, you’re welcome.

[omgfangirlland]

The Shadows That Nurture 7

Ch 8 is done, working on Ch9 so here is ch7! Enjoy and check the end notes for a bit of explanation(?) 🫠

The action is starting soon- I'm buzzing with the need to finally get into the Viltrumite plot but it still will take a bit, haste spoils the work, and all that.

Masterlist || First || previous<< Chapter 7 >>next

In the week that it took to get all documents done and over with, you and the Graysons grew closer and closer, specifically you and your brother, both of you seemed to sink your claws into each other, acting more like twins in sync than an older and younger sibling duo.

If Mark wanted to go somewhere and Nolan wasn’t around. You’d fly him there, if you wanted something and were too shy or nervous to ask his parents for it, he’d ask for it and give it to you later. And, while you both had bedrooms, every other night there was a sleepover in the others one room, always ending up with you two sleeping under a pillow fort, being kids, having fun.

You loved Debbie, and Nolan was okay even when he was clingy and talking nonsense about training you to conquer words. You were quite sure he was joking, the face he made right after saying things like that reassured you that wasn’t quite what he wanted to say- or it wasn’t how he felt anymore.

It was easy to see that you preferred Debbie, no matter how much Nolan tried to spend time with you, or how close you were to Mark, your priority was always Debbie. You weren’t calling her mom, it felt too soon for you, you weren’t ready, but you were a mama’s girl. You were the first to greet her, the first to offer to help her cook and clean, the first to go shopping with her, even the first to shyly ask her to paint your nails or to just spend time together.

It was so long since you went physically into a shop, even after leaving the Waynes you stuck to online shopping, and the first time you did it was with Debra, your hand shaking in hers as you stuck close to her, quieter than usual. The traffic of the store clearly made you nervous, so the woman made sure to always have a reassuring hand on you if she couldn’t hold your hand. With time you didn’t need to hold onto her anymore. Debbie almost cried when she realized that soon you wouldn’t need her at all.

And then the discussion of school came up. You could have lied, told them that you haven’t gone to school since your mom died- but you didn’t want to be like Bruce, all secrets and lies, you were already keeping quite the secret by not telling them about who your biological father is. So, you told them everything about you skipping grades, showing the diplomas and online school you’ve still worked on.

Neither of the adults seemed happy about you being stuck with online class, and honestly, neither were you. When your question about maybe joining the same grade as Markus, to keep close to him and meet other children your age, seemed to make both as happy as you were when they approved.

Now, it was easy to get you in, you even met William, Mark’s friend, but keeping yourself from correcting the teachers was another thing. You understood to a degree that the curriculum was different, that you were still kids and maybe learning about genocides wasn’t ideal- but when so many of your peers are willing to throw slurs left and right like 4Chan degenerates you were sure they could take the reality of what actually happened in history.  

Then the math teacher accused you of having an answer book, of cheating, of using a calculator when you were told not to- you may have snapped and yelled at him to give you an equation, any equation that was taught in the older grades, and if you could complete it in front of everyone, on the board, he’ll have to shut up about you.

That’s how you ended up seeing the principal, not because of your outburst, but because the teacher decided you were wasting your potential sitting around with the others when you could be in a grade that fulfilled your needs and developed you further. The principal agreed, and he was tired of the other teachers complaining, so you and your guardians were given an option of either taking a test to assess what grade you should be put in- or expulsion due to the many complaints against you.

You took the test. That way you could at least still be in the same building as Mark, and could still socialize, even if the idea of the older kids made you anxious- the high school themed movies didn’t help your expectations. The girls that you hung around in your new class, however, were quite nice, saw you as a little sister, including you in their study sessions and girl talk, braiding your hair. The boys mostly ignored you, and in return you ignored them. It was nice.

Debbie always worried about the older kids, and while Nolan did too, he was more enthusiastic about you being in school for one year instead of the other 4 or 5, after all, surely, you’ll want to help dad with hero work instead of going to college… Right?... Well, no. Your sight was set on the School of the Art Institute of Chicago, their art programs making you go rabid with need- so many options, so many possibilities, you couldn’t decide on what you wanted to apply for. If you had eternity on your side, you’d apply for all of them, not like Bruce will need the money.

The year you spent at school, actually at school, was as fun as it was exhausting. You never realized how much energy it takes to wake up at a specific hour every day, to socialize, to take tests with about 30 other students- It sometimes overstimulated you, making you miss online schooling to a degree. Still, you found solace in your visual arts class.

The teacher loved you, not many other students were that interested in drawing, let alone actually learning and painting on canvases. So, you coming in with sheets of paper as tall as you were, with paints and canvases, with charcoal and markers- oh she could almost cry of happiness. She wasn’t a mean teacher, or eccentric like in the movies, but she wasn’t a pushover either. If you wanted a grade in her classroom, you had better have something to show for it, and you had plenty.

While the others had a theme to follow due to them not taking the class for love of the arts but because they thought it would be easy work, she gave you freedom, so you took it. Your first drawings were of Lady Gotham, racking your brain to remember the stories the kids told you every night of her, not wanting to forget them or where you came from. Your teacher didn’t comment on the small figures you sometimes added sitting on her shoulder.

While you stuck to painting her statue in classes, your sketchbook was full of the many variants of her, everyone seemed to see a loved one in her face, but the only common thing was the long hair tied into a nice Edwardian or Victorian crown-bun, and her dark grey, fancy dress and pale, clawed hands.

If you were to ask the teacher which one was her favorite, she’d say it was your depiction of Death in the first painting you did in her class. It also depicted Morpheus, both of them standing over a bundled-up child trying to find some warmth in the corner of an alley as the God-like entities melted with the shadows, though the one of Persephone lounging with Cerberus and Hades was a close second. To her it was poetic, to you, it was a reality you didn’t want to duel on for any longer.

Time has never flown this fast for you, it was like you blinked and the year was over, finals and graduation looming close. You’ve grown closer to the Graysons, slipped once or twice and even called Debbie “mom”, got quite comfortable being close to Nolan, fell asleep on him a few times as he made for a nice furnace after training, and you and Mark were as inseparable as ever.

This was everything you wanted, more than you could ever dream of. Your eyes sparkled in tempo with the shines of the stars as you lied on your back on the roof. You missed your friends in Gotham, there will always be love for them in your heart- but this isn’t something you’ll be willing to give up without a fight, not when you were getting more and more powerful with each month.

Your hands moved in a similar manner to Atom Eve’s over your day clothes while you got up, making them shine a bright neon green, the color diming down and revealing pajamas once you set foot back in your bedroom.

You’ve learned- you know better now. You’re more than willing to eliminate any threat before they get the chance to do so, to take another loved one from you.

Tag list: @bat1212 @trashlanternfish360 @shycreatorreview @syrooo @a-lurking-fae @alittletiredcry @kittzu @plsfckmedxddy @blackhood1229 @nxdxsworld @leeiasure @dandelion-delusion @lovebug-apple @sillysealsies @tsxukikami

Notes: The green color of her powers is more a nod to the Lazarus water, it can be easily changed in y'alls mind but I think it's an important tiny detail. The reader's powers developed, but she still uses other's heroes moves to use them. And Nolan's training and words have felt a mark on batsis.

Hope I'm not forgetting anything else- 😬

[rollingeevee]

Guys I was reading a fanfic and suddenly I had a thought and my brain RAN WITH IT so… TAKE THIS

Beasts bite. They sink their claws and teeth into what they deem is theirs. And in terms of other cookies, it is no different. The bite of a Beast forms a tether that can only be severed by the Beast who put it there. It always dully aches, a pain low enough that one can grow accustomed to it, but one that always sharpens if its victim needs a reminder of who they belong to. The bite of each Beast feels different in how it reminds its holders

For Shadow Milk, the bite oozes magic that feels like the coils of a snake; cold, constricting, and possessive. They make it harder to think, harder to fight, harder to breathe…

For Mystic Flour, the bite feels like a paralyzing venom that makes one’s body heavy and numb until movement feels impossible

For Burning Spice, the bite seethes and burns just beneath the skin, as though their body is aflame, though no fire is present

For Eternal Sugar, the bite pulses with an aura meant to lure one into a false sense of security and almost like… it wishes to lull them to sleep

For Silent Salt, the bite radiates an oppressive pressure that makes it hard even to speak, let alone cry out for help, before striking with sharp and painful stabs

The bite of a Beast marks its prey, and reminds them that, no matter how far they run, their Beast will always find them, guided by the bond they forced with their bite.

[commandershepardvasfuckit]

Wild Gods, part 2

Part 1

1.6k words

A new morning did not bring any change. Still the strange being insist you were his mate retuned to him and still you got very few concrete answers from him.

————

There were blankets wrapped tightly around you when you awoke, but he was nowhere to be found. Maybe you could just creep away if that was the case, just avoid trying to convince him that you definitely weren’t who he thought you were.

As you looked around you spotted a small box that was clearly left to be in your line of sight when you woke up. Curiosity got the better of you and you opened it up slowly to find a beautiful bracelet, a thin gold chain adorned with large emeralds and rubies. The design was familiar and without a second thought you slipped it on before getting up.

The sun was already up and bathing everything in a soft, warm glow. It would have been quite beautiful here if you weren’t being held against your will. Your strange capture was sitting just outside, seemingly making breakfast.

“Good morning, my love” he greeted you cheerfully. “Breakfast is about ready, though it won’t be quite what you were used to before, apologies.”

Cautiously you sat across the cooking fire from him, trying to get a better read on the situation. He offered you food, local fruits foraged, a few small boiled eggs, and some sort of meat that had been skewered and roasted over the fire.

“Who are you?” you asked again.

“The lord of this place” he answered again.

“But what does that mean? What is your name?”

“All of this,” he vaguely gestured around, “is my domain. It’s not much anymore, but I will rebuild it all.”

“And your name?”

“You will remember it in time” is all he answered.

“I need to go home.”

“You are home.”

“I have a family! Parents! Siblings! Friends! They’re going to wonder where I am! I need to go back to them. You have the wrong person anyway!” You went to get up, to storm off and try to find your way back home. At this point you were annoyed by the strange being and from your rejection by the council yesterday, you could care less about convincing him that he was wrong. You just wanted to go home.

“You’re bound here” he called as you stormed off, though you ignored him.

You picked a direction and started walking, just eager to get away from him and you’d figure out the right direction to get home once you were out of the ruins. The tree line of the woods was visible and fast approaching as you made a beeline for it. Right as your foot stepped from the cracked pavers of the ruins and onto the dirt of the woods it felt as though the whole world lurched to the side, sending you stumbling, and when you looked up you seemed to be back in the ruins.

“I warned you” he was sitting not far from you and shrugged.

“Why did you do that?” you snapped at him.

“I didn’t do anything. I am bound to this place, and you are bound to me, ergo you are bound to this place.”

“So unbind me from you, you have the wrong person!”

He sighed, “You know that’s not how this works-”

“No! I don’t! Because you have the wrong person!”

Before you could even register that he moved, he was in front you and had a tight grip on your wrist, claws pressing into your skin, his voice was a low hiss, “That’s impossible! It was a thousand years ago when you were bound to me, when my mark was etched on your soul, you bear the same mark now as you did then. It has taken a long time, but you have finally returned to me and in time you will remember.”

You snatched your wrist away from him and immediately his expression fell.

“I did not mean to snap, I am sorry. It has been a long, lonely, thousand years so forgive my lack of manners” he quickly apologized. “But you are here now, with me, things will go back to how they should.”

You didn’t trust a word he said. He was bound here for some reason, trapped. Benevolent beings weren’t usually imprisoned, though it seemed for now at least you were stuck here too.

The ruins here were in much rougher shape than the rest. Blackened soot clung to the remaining walls, and at the very center where you stood felt slightly sunken in.

“What happened here?” you asked.

“It is a story for another time. Please, let’s go finish breakfast, then we can take a walk and chat.”

You followed him through the labyrinthine ruins back to where you slept last night, the food was still waiting for you. He just watched as you ate, big green eyes seemingly peering into your soul, never once looking away.

“I see you put your bracelet on” he broke the silence.

You glanced down at the bracelet that you already forgot you were wearing.

“That was one of the first gifts I gave you, it makes me happy to see it back on your wrist.”

You just gave a slight nod in acknowledgement.

He had so many questions about how the world was now, so many years confined year had left him quite out if touch, though he didn’t actually seem to be listening to your answers. Instead he was just looking at you with a soft smile and seemed to be wrapped up in his own thoughts.

“Why can’t you leave here?” you asked.

“This is my domain, it is the only place I can be.”

“You said you were bound here though, like trapped.”

“Bound and trapped are not the same, and it used to extend far past the palace. All directions, all the way to the oceans, it was all mine. But a god without followers doesn’t have enough influence to control much” he gave a little shrug, but looked away from you.

“You aren’t a god.”

“Oh? Then what am I?” he asked, “Have you ever seen anyone else like me?”

You hadn’t. He spoke like a human, walked and moved like a human, though he very much was not one. Not entirely anyways.

His head was that of a tiger, and though his body was humanoid, he was covered in soft, striped fur in a tiger’s pattern. His hands were shaped like a human’s, but appeared to have claws that could retract like a cat’s. He had a long tail, and his feet were more akin to paws.

You had heard of demons with animal traits, or humans cursed to take odd forms, though he did not seem particularly hostile, just frustrated.

“Then what are you the god of?” you asked.

“This place, the land, the people here.”

“That’s not how it works! There’s the pantheon and-”

“No. I do not know who your ‘pantheon’ is nor do I care. They are not real. There is the Great Mother, and her children, that is all” his tone was curt, it seemed you may have hit a nerve with him.

You wracked your brain for any mentions of a Great Mother or anything similar to what he had said, but there was nothing you recalled. Unless…

“You’re one of the old wild gods” you said.

The wild gods, a contested topic in scholarly circles. Shrines and temples to ancient gods had been unearthed over the years, but very little remained. No writings or distinct artifacts, just nearly destroyed structures and the occasional mural or mosaic. Some scholars claimed the wild gods once walked the planet and preformed great feats, others claimed they were some sort of warmongering tyrants over their followers, though most believed that they were never real and just an early form of religion.

While you had never seen any of these supposed shrines, the ruins here were far grander than anything else you had heard of, and despite not being far from the seat of the council you had never seen them before. Had never heard of them. It was almost as though they just appeared.

“I don’t know about that name, but I am the god of this area, and I’ve certainly been here much longer than your supposed ‘pantheon’.”

“Then why doesn’t any know there ruins are here? This is pretty close to the city, but no one knows that there here.”

“This place is protected, at least for now, so only my faithful will be able to find it.”

“So why could I find it?”

“As I have said, my mark is on you, you are connected to me so of course you can find your way back home.”

“I’ve been out in these woods plenty of times but never found them before.”

“I do not have an answer for that, but it doesn’t matter. You are where you belong now, I can start rebuilding now.”

You gave him an odd look, everything he said just felt off, “And why wait so long to rebuild?”

“I did what I could: made sure I had a room and somewhere comfortable for you to sleep, cleared the soot from much of the palace, though as I said, a god with no followers doesn’t have much influence or power. But now I have my most devoted follower back, and soon you will bear our children. Our little family will be the beginning of my empire.”

————

Tag list

@mothmansanctuary

[ladamedusoif]

UNHOLY FERAL NOISES

[that-hazbin]

Been thinking about a fic idea where Charlie botches a spell during a hotel redemption activity, where Alastor is the only one not present for. Lucifer was trying to coach her through the spell, but got distracted because he noticed there was a fucking drone outside the window pointed directly at them.

As far as the drone picks up, one second all the hotel members are there. The next second, they're gone. Vanished.

To the hotel members, they don't notice anything out of the ordinary at first at all. They're still in the hotel, and they can see each other just fine. It's a bit confusing when the drone just... promptly gives up and flies away. But they all figure Lucifer catching it just scared TV face away. So, no big deal.

Then Alastor comes back. Charlie greets him, but he seemingly ignores her. Lucifer, pissed by this attitude, tries to grab him— only for his hand to go right through Alastor's shoulder.

Realization immediately sets in.

They've become ghosts.

Obviously, ghosts don't exist, but this newly discovered spell (Lucifer is definitely trying to reword the situation to make Charlie feel better here) basically gives the properties of the stereotypical ghost.

They can't be seen. They can't interact with the world around them. The only person of their ragtag group who remained untouched by the spell was the singular person who wasn't there— Alastor.

There's more rules to the spell apparently, which they figure out quickly. For one, they are anchored to the hotel. At first, they thought that they couldn't go through walls when Lucifer tried to walk through one to the outside, but it turns out that they CAN walk through walls. They're just blocked from going out of bounds.

The last thing they figure out about the spell is that there doesn't seem to be a time limit. Which, obviously, is very bad. Usually, temporary spells with similar effects only last a couple of hours, but when everyone wakes up the next morning still incapable of grabbing a simple door handle, it becomes evident that they've gotten into a bigger mess than previously thought.

And then, Alastor realizes that everyone is "missing."

And he freaks the fuck out.

Yelling their names, breaking down doors, having straight up panic attacks. And the hotel inhabitants are watching it all happen, unable to say or do anything while Alastor begins physically harming himself, ripping out his hair and gouging deep marks through his skin with his claws.

They already felt pressured to figure out how to undo the spell, but now the pressure is worse because if they don't figure this shit out soon, Alastor may actually permanently hurt himself at the rate he's going.

(A few individuals, meanwhile, are hit with the realization that Alastor may actually care for them. More than he was ever willing to show.)

[thatoneautisticshark]

Tw panic attacks, mild dissociation discussion of rape.

Price and Simon slept together, having a good time. Simon doesn't do so well afterwards however

Price pulled out of Simon with a groan. “Fucking hell, your so tight.”

Simon lay there, his own cum on his stomach, Prices spend slowly leaking from his hole.His breathing heavy and measured as he vaguely registered Price moving around doing something nearby.

He felt… gross. He was sticky and sweaty. But it wasn't even the physical sensation. His eyes were blurring. His Captains bedroom was starting to look like his childhood bedroom, or the room with Roba.

He couldn't tell, it was all blurring together but he knew it wasn't good.His awareness of around him was fading, his ears ringing. He vaguely registered a door and footsteps exiting by it.

Of course he was being left. Fuck him and leave him, that's what always happened. At least the weren't here any more. He was safe for the time being.

He shifted, wincing at the feeling as he curled up. It hurt he could barely register anything, but he could feel the gross gross, wrong feeling of it, dripping out of him.

Running down his thighs.

Dampening his legs.

It was all so wrong. He needed to go, to run to do something, but he lay, frozen, stuck.

He wasn't sure how long he was laying there, eyes barely focused on the nightstand, ears ringing, but he was harshly snapped back to reality by the feeling of something wet on his thigh.

Simon reacted instinctively, somewhere between fight or flight. One hand threw a punch, but his body flinched backwards causing him to tumble off the bed. His head collides with the dresser as he scrambles backwards.

Through his blurry vision, he can barely see the shape.

The person. Approaching, getting closer and towering over him.

He pushes himself back in an attempt to get further, his back hitting the dresser. A hand is coming towards him, to grab, to hit, to do something.

Practically powerless, he plasters himself against the dresser, eyes squeezed shut. No touch comes. He slowly opens an eye, trying to focus through the blur.

The person is crouched In Front of him but not reaching out any more. The person speaks, their voice a low calming rumble “Hey, you're okay, I won't touch you, okay?”

The voice is familiar, Simon is sure he knows it, but he just can't place it. He knows it, the voice makes him feel safer, though he is still panicked.

“Just breathe, luv. That's it. In and out, Riley.”

Simons eyes slowly begin to focus ever so slightly. The beard, and voice finally piece together in his exhausted panic filled mind.

“Price?”

The captain's face split into a small smile. “Yeah I'm here, luv. Just breathe. It's all okay, relax”

Simons breaths slowly became more measured, the panic still clawing at the edges of his mind. But heavily overshadowed by shame and embarrassment.

Right after sex, he had a fucking freak out in his captains bed. Just bloody mint. His brain finally registered what was in Price's hand.

It was a fucking washcloth. He was gonna clean him up. He freaked out like a child over a washcloth?

He literally tried to punch his CO over trying to clean him up.

He froze. Oh god.He tried to punch his Captain. Wait, did he try or did he succeed? He couldn't see an obvious mark, so at least if he landed a hit it wasn't hard.

Maybe he could play it off? Worth a shot.

He stood up, ignoring the fact his legs were shaking and he felt like a newborn deer. “Well that was dramatic” He said, forcing his voice to be as steady as possible.

Acting as everything was fine. Maybe price would let him leave without being upset.

Price gave him a flat look “Yeah no, you are not playing this off. Sit down”

Well fuck. Simon wanted to wack his head into the wall, but he wasn't gonna disobey. He sat back on the bed, narrowly avoiding pulling a face as he became aware once more of the feeling of the cum all over and dribbling out from him.

Price sat down, a bit away from him, giving him some space. And Simon couldn't work out if he was happy or upset about it.

He wanted space. But a bit of him also wanted to be held, to be comforted, but he pushed it down.

He saw price's movement out of the corner of his eye and glanced over. Price was holding out the wash cloth. “You wanna clean up? I doubt that feels nice”

Simon nodded, gratefully taking the cloth, wiping himself off. He was so stupid. He could have just stayed still and let price clean him up, but nooo. He had to be a drama queen and fall off the bed and try to punch his Captain.

That was obviously the logical decision.

He slowly raised his head to look at Price…who didn't look angry? Simon wasn't sure what the expression was but he was fairly sure that wasn't anger.

Price cleared his throat. “So are we gonna talk about that?”

Simon winced “How about no?” At the withering look he received he relented. “Not much to say. I was in my head and reacted dramatically. You startled me. Sorry for trying to clock you in the face.”

“Simon. That is not a reaction to just being startled and we know it. Maybe the initial thing, a flinch and instinctual punch, you could maybe convince me. But, then not even reacting to the fact you wacked your head, and scrambling backwards panicked and crying. That was not just being startled.”

Simon blinked at him “I wasn't crying.”

Price gave him a look “Did you really think that was gonna convince me? Your mask is damp from your tears.”

Simons hands immediately came up to his mask touching it, and sure enough, it was moist under his eyes. He had indeed been crying. “Ah”

A silence stretched over the room. Simon sat there trying to work out how to explain his dramatics.“I just.. my brain was just being dumb price. It decided to …. Think of this as being the room I was in with Roba and I was in my head. And the touch startled me, and then I couldn't quite recognise you”

The silence that followed confused Simon slightly. Price was staring at him with a look on his face as if Simon had delivered the worst news.“I..Fuck I am so sorry. I didn't know. I didn't know it would trigger a panic attack, especially about rape. I swear I wouldn't have if I knew” Price looked so guilty.

Simon blinked at him. “It's fine? It's not a huge deal.”

It really wasn't. Simons brain just did stupid stuff sometimes and Price didn't have a reason to be apologizing.

The older man opened his mouth to argue before closing it, sighing and opening it again. “We are going to have a proper discussion about this at some point. But not right now, can I hug you right now?”

Simon nodded, and felt the warm strong arms off his captain wrapping around his middle and the tickle of the beard against his neck.

He agreed because Price really seemed to need it. But he had to admit it was nice. The older man was practically a heater, and a weighted blanket in one.“I'm giving you actual fucking aftercare” Came the murmur from his chest. If aftercare included cuddles like this, Simon decided he'd probably like it.

Poor price. He Is so worried and confused. Also autistic ghost, who just thinks his panics attacks are being dramatic.

[severedbythenarrative]

I think I was born bored.

I think I was born blue.

I think I was born wanting more.

I think I was born already missing you.

[Innie Mark S. x claw machine]

[hrrtshape]

coriolanus snow in my dr : a case study (???)

౨ৎ  i know coryo now!!!!! not good for everyone else. like, biblically adjacent. i have stared into the abyss of his collarbones and nearly blacked out from sheer spiritual overload during lunch ! i had to physically restrain myself, clawed at my own wrist, bit my tongue, to stop myself from stamping thirteen hickeys across his aristocratic little throat like a feral creature marking its territory when i first him.

he is so real. more than real. beyond suzanne collins' ink, beyond the tragic orchestration of his future atrocities in other...universes. here, in the very exclusive, very avant-garde dimensional hotspot that is my better cr dr, he is not just coriolanus snow....future ceo heir. he is coryo. my coryo!!!!! and sometimes he slouches ⋆

　　　　　　　　　　  ⊹　 ︶︶　 ୨୧　 ︶︶　 ⊹

❛ backstory : his parents are old money, the kind that moves in silence because it has nothing to prove. no desperate new-rich ostentation, just power so entrenched in the social fabric that it seeps into his every gesture, his every breath. his mother, a socialite with a steel-trap memory and a tongue sharper than a guillotine, collects secrets like they’re baccarat crystal. his father...okay. actually. terrifying. the kind of man who bets entire fortunes like they’re poker chips, who calculates risk with a gambler’s intuition and a warlord’s ruthlessness. tigris wasn’t lying when she said his father held hate in his eyes. coryo learned young that money isn’t the prize. it’s the battlefield. also, his grandma’am owns an unfathomably chic flower boutique, the kind of place where orchids cost more than your rent.

　　　unconventional investigative journalism ! . . . ୨୧

◞ signature scent : bdk parfums’ gris charnel, the kind of fragrance that clings to cashmere like a well-kept secret. ink stains on silk shirts, warm cardamom, a whisper of bergamot before it settles into sandalwood and smoked tea. expensive, but not ostentatious. it lingers, it haunts. smells like the kind of man who leaves an open book on the nightstand, spine cracked just so.

◞ phone model (important!!!) : iphone purist, but it’s always the second-to-latest model. not out of financial constraint (please), but because he simply does not care about such pedestrian flexes. midnight black iphone 15, no case, the edges kissed by a few strategic scratches from careless, absentminded tosses onto marble countertops.

◞ handwriting : so precise it could be a forged renaissance manuscript. slanted, deliberate, almost ecclesiastical in its elegance. when rushed, it collapses into a series of esoteric glyphs that only he and his exhausted professors can decipher.

◞ academic (from a person who's definitely not biased) : always at the top, but never in a way that suggests effort. knowledge just seeps into his bones. writes entire essays in his head and transcribes them last minute. annotations in the margins oscillate between philosophical musings and sardonic commentary. highlighters are strictly monochrome, because colour-coding is for the weak.

◞ basketball quirks : moves like he’s solving an equation in real time. effortless shots, a preternatural understanding of angles and velocity. runs a hand through his hair before free throws, because of course he does. plays like it’s not even a game, but an elegant and calculated dismantling of his opponent.

◞ food (yes i stalked him...basically) : not a sugar fiend, but catches himself reaching for dark chocolate when he thinks no one’s watching. black coffee as a baseline, but if you hand him something absurdly sweet, he’ll wrinkle his nose and then consume it with the begrudging efficiency of a man fulfilling a contract. this is known. this is proven.

◞ musical taste : classical, but only the kind that sounds like a man going through it in a candlelit room. bach (the kind with an organ), tchaikovsky (the kind with a death wish). 2000s indie sleaze. interpol, the strokes, arctic monkeys. jazz. hans zimmer when he’s feeling grandiose. kanye, travis scott, 90s rap when he needs to remind himself he is, in fact, a menace.

◞ can solve a rubik’s cube in under two minutes but insists it’s a useless skill.

◞ always has a pen on him. you’ve stolen at least three.

◞ stands at a slight angle when talking, like he’s perpetually calculating the optimal way to exist in space.

◞ (before my shift so this is from a memory i got there) gave me his jacket in an offhanded way, like it was nothing. later, i caught him watching me wear it with something unreadable in his expression.

◞ knows how to play poker, and you will not beat him at it.

◞ never brags, but when he does something impressive, he looks at me like he’s waiting for me to say something. i just raise an eyebrow.

◞ drives a black aston martin vantage (i know this...because he drove me once. one hand on the wheel, the other resting on the gear shift, eyes flicking to the rearview mirror like he’s tracking something unseen. moan.)

◞ taps his pen against his lips when he’s thinking.

◞ looks obscenely good in knitwear. wool coats that make him look like a damn film protagonist.

◞ he doesn’t do hobbies; he does obsessions. he also does chess, poker, fencing. anything that requires strategy and the slow, tantalising art of victory. he's also in model UN. obviously.

◞ wears glasses sometimes. looks as hot as it sounds.

　　　physicality (moan!!!!) . . . ୨୧

◞ 6'3. an affront to reason, a structural hazard, a measurement that demands architectural consideration. the kind of height that turns even the tallest into something delicate by comparison.

◞ athletic, but not in an 'i woke up like this' way. this is intentional. muscle sculpted through discipline, through an almost monastic devotion to control. broad shoulders that make sweaters drape like they were sketched onto him. strong forearms, obviously. his back... indecently, needlessly, artfully carved.

◞ his hands...sigh...perpetually in his pockets, except when he leans in to murmur something just a fraction too close, fully aware of the effect. arms crossed when listening, jaw tightening when irritated (devastatingly attractive, i wanted to immortalise it).

◞ shoe size !!!!! likely 45 (us 12), possibly 46 (us 13). yes, i looked. for science.

◞ rolls up his sleeves with surgical precision, just enough to expose forearms that should require a warning label, yet feigns indifference.

◞ his hands are a problem. strong, elegant, unjust. fingers slightly calloused from basketball, fencing, lifting. YES, I TOOK NOTES.

　　　red flags that i'm way too prepared for . . . ୨୧

◞ pathological overachiever syndrome, but the toxic kind. the “i will seethe in silence if i score a 99 instead of 100” kind. the “i wrote a whole new essay because i found my first one merely excellent instead of transcendent” kind. the “if you beat me at chess i will lose sleep over it for weeks but mask it under a detached smirk” kind.

◞ emotional repression so severe it could be classified as a gothic affliction. you will never know what he’s actually thinking unless you study him like a victorian poet studies phrenology. his version of vulnerability is allowing you to witness a fraction of his turmoil through the clench of his jaw or the way he lingers just a little too long before walking away.

◞ never says “i’m sorry,” just reappears with a grand gesture like he’s starring in a cinematic reconciliation arc. (he is.) will quote poetry or latin at you instead of apologising. will scoff at grand romantic ideals but embodies one against his will.

◞ ego so finely constructed it could be displayed in the louvre. never gaudy, never loud, just a quiet, unshakable belief in his own superiority. not in a way that begs for external validation. no, he already knows. he doesn’t need you to tell him he’s exceptional, but oh, he does like it when you try to prove him wrong.

◞ has a god complex (freak matches freak), but a sexy one. not the loud, abrasive kind. no, his is an old-money god complex, the kind that sits in the corner of a candlelit room, flipping the pages of some antique tome, exuding the silent certainty that the world will always orbit him, whether you realise it or not.

◞ control issues so severe they could be submitted for psychological study. must be the one driving, must be the one deciding, must be the one orchestrating. lets you have your way when it amuses him, but only then. will convince you it was your choice all along.

　　　i , the cold war . . . ୨୧

lily-rose called it first: the cold war. and she was right. me, french-russian (yes, i’ve returned from shifting with improved french!!!) with an arsenal of toothy grins. him, american, arrogance lacquered over his intellect like a second skin. we’re both rich, both brilliant, both locked in a knowing, unbearable awareness of each other. the air crackles.

but it’s not just rivalry. never was. never could be.

when me and coryo stand too close, no one can tell if we’re about to argue or kiss. our verbal sparring sounds suspiciously like flirtation... because it is. because beneath the ego clashes and competitive theatrics, we are, devastatingly, undeniably, more allies than adversaries. we always sit together at lunch, insisting it’s because all our other friends do. but let’s be serious.

before all this, though, we were just kids. 10, maybe 9, maybe 8, whatever. he lived near me. i annoyed him on principle. it was schroeder and lucy, textbook. then i moved to paris. when i came back at 14, things weren’t the same. something brittle in the air. something unsaid.

　　　ii , the dynamic . . . ୨୧

smart vs. smart : we’re both intelligent. that’s a given. but he’s the type of smart that’s ice-cold, precise, a grandmaster orchestrating a hundred simultaneous chess games. and....... my intelligence is chaos and charm, the kind people underestimate right up until i win. he respects it. i weaponise it. it’s mathematics versus poetry. it’s yang and yin. it’s whatever we are, and it works. so well !!!!

arrogance vs. playfulness : he’s arrogance incarnate, but god, he can back it up. me? i’m unserious. i’m babyfaced. i laugh my way through everything, until suddenly i don’t. and then i win. which unravels him. which makes him question the foundations of reality. which is hilarious. (and no, he doesn’t let me win. i think.)

proximity that means too much : we always sit next to each other. always. in every class we share. no one believes it’s incidental. when we argue, it’s close-range, like neither of us is willing to cede even a millimetre of ground.

　　　iii , things that happened during my shift . . . ୨୧

◞ day one, i gave him a nosebleed. a necessary act of narrative tension.

◞ walking to class, his arm slung over my shoulder. unsanctioned contact. if i were a weaker woman, i would have perished on the spot.

◞ watched him play basketball. died immediately.

◞ accidental hand touch. suffered cardiac arrest.

◞ someone told us to get a room. we ignored it. violently.

　　　iv , what everyone sees vs. what's actually happening . . . ୨୧

what they see : two rivals, locked in constant combat, neither willing to surrender, neither willing to blink.

what’s actually happening : two idiots thinking about each other too much. best friends pretending not to be. two inevitable something-or-others, blind to the fact that they are careening towards each other like a greek tragedy.

ok goodbye i'm going back to my better cr now or else i'll die

[valentine-cafe]

hey pookie wookie…. i physically cannot get luu’leriel out of my head. i need that demon to fuck me silly in the head bro. just smth about him being such a bully about it too?? EUGHDHHD fuck bro, i need this with a gn!reader. do whatever you will with this information BUT FUCKKKK he’s more in my head than haitao and i don’t know what to feel about it (possible mind fucking kink question mark)

˖⁺. ﹙demon reaper mercenary x gn reader. ﹚.𖹭 ݁

. . . keeping this all to himself !! 🍒 : mortician ˖ grim reaper ˖ mercenary ˖ demon﹙ verse 209 Hǎitāo. ﹚

during sex, luu'leriel comes out to have you for himself cw: rough fucking, black cum, tentacles, several orgasms

Sex with Hǎitāo always left you seeing stars. The man fucked hard. No ifs or buts or maybes. Unless you needed it slow — he’s wrecking whatever hole of yours he possible can with clambering thrusts. Hand tight round your jaw. Shoving your head back into pillows and bottoming out to fuck you shallow, fuck you harder. All so he could see your teary eyes cross at the middle. So that he could hear those fucked out babbles and whines as he brought you to your third - fourth - fifth - orgasm.

Even in your state of orgasmic delirium — you’d notice subtle changes to his demeanor. The way the whites of his eyes would bleed to blackness. The claws of his fingers grew longer, sharper. His already sharp teeth would switch to almost monstrous.

All courtesy of the demon that found host in your boyfriend. Luu’leriel. Straight from the pits of hell and hungry for your body just as much as Hǎitāo; yet in a sort of carnal way that only beings of the abhorration could want. Could hunger.

You wondered what change that would bring to the bedroom. If the demon were to overtake your boyfriend and steer the way he fucked you.

Well, your wish would be granted soon enough. Pinned to the mattress by a series of large, black tentacles that wrap around whatever they possibly can. Your throat, your chest, two round your thighs to split them open for his cock that pounds away at your poor, fluttering hole. All while a demonic maw grins down at you. Dioxazine eyes glowing as he stretches you out on his dick squirting black goo with every rough thrust.

“Such a pretty birdie. Such a pretty body. All for me. Mine.” The demon gurgles above. Its mouth pours down your neck and bites down on your shoulders. You almost forget that this is still your boyfriend’s body. It felt so different. Felt so raw. So dark.

You try to reach and cling to his shoulders as you always do, but another thick tendril seizes your hands and shoves you back into the mattress. Another joining to venture down your throat and make your eyes all loopy. What more could you do but cum for it all over again? Mix your white slick in its black goo that it continues to fuck into you repeatedly.

“No wonder he - hah - likes you so much.” Clawed hands grip along your ass and hoist you up in the slightest. So that you have no choice but to hang off of its dick while it pounds away. Wrecking your insides in a way that only demons could. The gloss of tentacles continue to roam over your flesh and stimulate you in any way they possible can.

“So tight. So tasty. So - fucckk,” it sinks its teeth into your shoulder. Rams up into you until all you are is a pretty little cocksleeve. So pliable. So weak to a demon and its insatiable hunger.

[the-painted-siren]

Finally managed to redo all of my ninja body headcanon refs yippee! I’m especially happy because I redid their proportions and anatomy to be more accurate to how I envision them. I certainly think they all look better for it.

A metric ton of notes + Several extra characters beneath the cut! Also spoilers for Dragons Rising S2 and leaks for S3.

Jay — has the face of a movie star with a narrow jawline and thick, curly hair to go with it. Short, boxy-looking, muscular shoulders. He’s strong enough to lift heavy materials and work with stubborn mechanical pieces, but is otherwise pretty lean. Lots of freckles and lightning-like scars all over his body. The smaller ones fade with time and return when he uses his powers. (Later in DR, I headcanon that Jay figures out she’s transfem. However for this ref I’m using pre-realization Jay.)

Nya — Square face and strong features, death glare that could kill a man. Very muscular, especially around her biceps and thighs. Lots of scars and moles. Leftover markings from her time spent as the ocean (she also has sharpened teeth from the incident, like dragon fangs.) Dragon tattoo on her left arm. (Not pictured: small phoenix tattoo on her back.) Wavy hair that resembles ocean waves.

Kai — Resembles his father quite a bit, has similar sharp features. Very handsome. Hairy, jacked, very strong arms, biceps, and shoulders. Scarred hands from wielding his own fire recklessly when he was younger. Same dragon tattoo as Nya on his left arm (he got it to commemorate her sacrifice in Seabound.) Scar over right eye that he got while fighting a Serpentine. Hair that resembles flames. Top surgery scars bc he is transmasc to me.

Lloyd — Classic hero look. Soft-featured and seems very approachable, often makes his enemies think he’s incapable of great anger bc of it. Tall, stocky, jock-like build, broad shoulders and waist. Outgrew half of his team by S8 (they are still upset about this lol). Several scars and stretch marks from how quickly he’s grown over the years but the most prominent are the claw marks on his shoulder from fighting his dad. Mole on his chin bc I like projecting my physical features onto my fave characters. Originally his ears were round like the rest of his teammates but became pointed after the Oni trilogy, he used to be severely self conscious about them but later grew to appreciate them. Top surgery scars bc he is also transmasc to me.

Cole — Had an emo phase in classic-era S1/2, was also pretty slender but later put on a lot of weight. Probably the most relaxed and emotionally in touch than all the rest of his teammates and it shows in his expression and posture. Large build with lots of functional muscle- big arms, big chest, big hands and feet, you get the picture. Very hairy. Scars on his hands and arms and side of his head from his powers and time spent as a ghost. Also has some moles. Has grown his hair out very steadily over the course of his life. Top surgery scars bc he is also, also transmasc to me.

Zane — Originally, Dr. Julien built him pretty short but after S3 Pixal rebuilt him to be taller. Slender build with a strong, flexible core. Broad, sturdy shoulders. Dr. Julien designed him to be light and fast to contrast the Juggernaut, which is slow and tanky. Has similar patterns on his shoulders that Pixal has all over her body, except the dots have been replaced with snowflakes. Very human-looking. Dark eyes. Heart/core is comprised of chronosteel as given to him by the previous Master of Ice.

Pixal — The shortest. Petite. Has a very sweet and gently-looking countenance since her original purpose was to assist. Has an alternative Battle Mode body that is bigger than even Zane. She re-made the Samurai X persona to seem big, quiet, and terrifying to fight. Visible circuitry since she is overflowing with every mechanism thought possible to make her as fully functional as a human being.

Sora — average height with a rectangular build, strong arms because she’s an inventor and mechanic. Using scrapped Imperium tech, she customized the markings on her body to look like whiskers and cat stripes. She used to dye her hair pink but once she grew into her powers it became naturally pink. Two different prosthetic arms, one for practical purposes and another that looks like a cat paw for fun.

Arin — starts out pretty short but grows a lot over the course of his time training to be a ninja. It’s not pictured, but he has a growth spurt post S2 that puts him at a similar height to Lloyd (5’8”). Puts on some functional muscle as he trains. Has a few scars but the two most prominent ones are on his shoulder (from helping Sora with a project, and the other on his clavicle from getting thrown around by Ras in DR S2).

Wyldfyre — short, short gremlin. Sunken facial features. Stocky and top heavy, muscular arms and legs. Despite her height, she could suplex half the cast effortlessly. Very tanned from being out in the sun and heat her entire life. I gave her lots of freckles because I am correct. Hair is still somewhat untamable even after S2P1.

Frak — seems tall, is actually pretty small for a Serpentine. Wiry and flexible, lots of sharp edges that he’s generally very aware and particular about. Tough skin/scales, wears armor to protect his torso. Mixed Venomari and Constrictai. Receives one of Lloyd’s old gi after joining the ninja.

Euphrasia — yes, I know she’s not apart of the cast of new ninja but I wanted to make a reference for her anyway. Tiny and wispy, like a wind sprite. Unassuming and innocent-looking. Used to have shrimp-posture from how anxious and insecure she was about herself but has started to straighten out as she’s grown into her powers. Some freckles :)

Misako — very short but still fit as a fiddle. More the capable of defending herself and doing heavy manual labor, even though she doesn’t really look like it. Had a very stressful life and as a result started getting gray hair early in her years. She doesn’t mind as much now that she’s gotten so old. Has stretch marks and a slight tummy after giving birth to Lloyd.

Wu — can shapeshift to any height, chooses to look short and wide, ultimate sleeper build (this man is muscled as hell). Like Lloyd, he has a classic hero look and also seems approachable and gentle. Post Oni trilogy he keeps his ears pointed to comfort and support Lloyd with his own low self-esteem. In the early seasons, he used to be very slim and almost frail-seeming, but in S9 he grew to add on a lot of weight from subconsciously modeling himself after Cole. Has arthritis and chronic pain.

Garmadon — can also shapeshift to any height but got into a particularly petty and pointless fight with Lloyd about it one day. He chooses to be around the same height as Lloyd bc of it. Both he and Wu have dragon-like tails but prefer to keep them hidden, tho post-Crystallized Garmadon starts to wear his out more frequently. In S1/2 he was remarkably muscled and well-built, S3/4 he became incredibly focused on slimming down to fit the ninja master image, in the Oni trilogy he was reborn as being remarkably powerful and muscled again (to fit Harumi’s subconscious projection of what she thought he would look like.) By Crystallized, he’d let go of many of his responsibilities and reservations and gained a lot of weight. Still muscled, tho not as big as Wu. Has chronic pain due to so many physical transformations and a 1000+ years of service to Ninjago.

Morro — *transfems your ghost* Yeah… anyway, short and bony, strong enough to handle herself tho. Leftover scars after she dissolved into the ocean, occasionally they become translucent and show off her skeleton when she experiences powerful emotions. No longer a wind master but does now have ghost-like abilities.

Echo/Mr.E — essentially looks like a smaller, shorter, and more youthful version of Zane. Used to be very rusted and was always falling apart before Harumi helped rebuild him. Red and black color scheme to contrast Zane’s blue and white one. Has a crack over his left eyebrow after he got crushed by a billboard in Crystallized.

Harumi — Remarkably beautiful by most social beauty standards, deceptively petite. Is actually muscled beneath whatever layers she wears. In DR, she lets go a lot of her old feelings and resentments and begins healing. Cuts her hair and starts wearing warmer colors, tho she still prefers her heavy makeup and jewelry from her biker phase. Both she and Echo have a sort of crystal-like surface to their body after taking on the power of the Crystal King. Always carries a tool belt to help with repairs and odd jobs around the Crossroads.

Akita — tall by Ninjago standards, short by Formling standards. Spent a lot of her formative years struggling after her people were froze in ice, but has been healing post S-11 after being reunited with her brother and people. Her wolf form is much bigger than a regular wolf, making it easier for her to scare off packs of wild animals and tote objects or people around the Never Realm.

Pixal’s battle form in comparison to her usual form and Zane.