#unless he is zee
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Poor First. This boy is trapped between two twins and he doesn't even know it. He has one who loves him fiercely and devotedly and one who has always hated him and he has no idea why he's being ping-ponged back and forth between these two extremes.
He deserves the truth but Sprite doesn't think anyone would love him if they knew the real him and so he keeps hoping that pretending to be Zee will get him the love he wants because the only person he knows is loved is Zee... so why not be him?
But First never loved Zee. First hated Zee. First fell in love with Sprite and all the ways he isn't Zee. But Sprite just can't see that.
And so he's hurting First despite loving him because the only parts of himself that he sees as loveable... are the parts that aren't him.
#twins the series#twins series#twins bl#spritefirst#firstsprite#first x sprite#thai bl#bl series#thai drama#thai series#thaibl#bl drama#asianlgbtqdramas#asian lgbtq dramas#thai bl series#thai bl drama#sprite just doesn't see himself as loveable at all#he sees himself as unworthy of love and unable to be loved#unless he is zee
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I haven't actually followed the strips in ages and only see bits in pieces pop up now and then, but does Matthew call Arthur an older brother? I remember Matthew was the one taking care of Arthur when he fell apart after Alfred left but then there are times where they don't seem very close at all? Alfred and Matthew in fanon are usually portrayed as having a very close friendship while canon has the more typical 'no one else knows how to piss me off like you do' sibling relationship.
Ooooh yeah let's get our sources out for this one lads. Except not the April Fools'/Halloween Specials I'm too tirrrreeeed and I genuinely don't think there's anything in them regardless. Please excuse odd image formatting - go follow the links to read the strips in their full context!
The very early strips from like 2011 England and Canada did not have much of a relationship at all, but then we got a few Canada focused strips in like 2015 ish which kind of shed some light on what their dynamic is.
I can only find three references to Arthur being a father - and that's in the strip's title, not actually anything anyone says. Otherwise it's kind of implied with the toy bear metaphor but even then...
Hetalia World Stars Chapter 193; Hetalia World Stars Chapter 204
The other is - of course - from Cleaning Out the Storage. Thanks Alfred for that one. It still isn't the F word but whatever...
Cleaning out the Storage
In the strips set in the modern day, Canada just calls England England (or jackass in his head in one of the older strips... which is fair). Canada has never called England big brother, instead consistently calling Arthur Mr England.
Hetalia World Stars Chapter 196; Fly Canada Fly (Also 'I'll leave the caring of his heart to you' WAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH T_T)
It's the same for Oz, who hasn't even said England's name yet, but it's harder to say what he thinks of his relationship to England him since A) he's far more informal in his manner of speaking and B) has far fewer appearances.
However, they still are family I think even in modern day? I can only do logic by association here really. Canada and England explicitly call each other family when Mattie is a baby as well as some of the 19th century strips too. England getting custody has him say: 'from now on I'll be your family' and Canada gets very excited at the thought of a family.
Hetalia World Stars Chapter 192
Matt and Alfred are called brothers (more than even) far more consistently.
Fly Canada Fly; Hetalia World Stars Chapter 199; Hetalia World Stars Chapter 178;
When Canada is introduced to Australia, England says that he wanted to introduce the newest member of their family to him. He's defined as a 'sort of' younger brother.
Hetalia World Stars Chapter 201 (I like how Arthur tells Oz off - not because he's wrong but because it's rude... poor Canada...)
Zee is the blessed exception! He calls both England and Canada big brother fairly consistently.
Hetalia World Stars Chapter 269; Hetalia World Stars Chapter 414; Hetalia World Stars Chapter 227;
Mattie has, as far as I can recall, never had the B word come from his mouth regarding to Arthur. He does however refer to him as family.
Hetalia World Stars Chapter 181
So you have Matthew who apparently fine with calling Arthur the equivalent of Sir, Zee who merrily calls both Big Brother, and Arthur who doesn't correct the boys either way (extrapolate what you will from that insecurities all around methinks). And yet Arthur and Matthew don't refer to each other as siblings in return. Arthur doesn't call anyone his brothers aside from Wales, NI and Scot.
And Alfred. Which ended badly so... that kind of tracks actually. Like literally Arthur rejects anything too informal because it like... triggers him??? Or something. Trauma flashbacks right here.
The Battle for America
So one sided familial relationships all around??? I think the more likely answer is Matthew and Arthur are simply less open with those terms than say Alfred was or Zee is; I assume the translation from Japanese is much a term of endearment as it is an actual declaration of relation.
So, in some ways Matthew and Arthur's relationship is not the same situation as whatever Alfred and Arthur have going on, as there's no explicit on page declaration of 'I'm not your little brother' like we got from Alfred or 'It's not like that at all' from Arthur (that strip in Africa where that soldier says he can't believe they're related and they both say no they aren't [in their own ways]), so until then... Schrödinger Sibling.
I quite like that they don't really put a name to it. It just is. They're family, sure, but beyond that... shrug. And that thing (cough cough colonialism) can't really be boiled down to one term. Everyone's relations are in such flux and beyond just one word to define it.
#q&a#hws england#hws america#hws canada#hws new zealand#hws australia#the great 'is Arthur a dad/big brother' debate#answer: he really isn't anyone's dad honest#and half the time he isn't anyone's brother either either unless the person likes using terms of endearment#he's *family* sure#but no-one save Zee is actually calling him that#canon#op
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Trying to do the math of how much time Turlough skipped forward and I'm laughing because it means Planet of Fire would be happening circa 1998ish.
(Malkon was a baby at the end of the war (which TARDIS wiki puts in the 70s) which tracks with Mawdryn Undead taking place in 1983. Malkon's actor was 23ish at the time of filming)
Basically Turlough has to be old enough to be a seen as a vaguely culpable child soldier (although I'm of the camp he was an adult by the time he gets picked up by the doctor, being trapped in a school is just a convenient spot to have him imprisoned) and he's been on earth long enough to be desperate to leave. So that puts the end of the war in the late 70s. There's only so much wiggle room with old enough to be seen as culpable and still young enough looking to pass as a school boy and been passing for several years.
So it's a good thing big finish implies Turlough travels for a long time because he's legitimately going to be 20 years younger than he should be. It would probably work better to have Malkon be 17ish in Planet of Fire and have Turlough be 19ish in Mawdryn Undead and then add lots of TARDIS travel to bridge the gap.
#Vislor Turlough#Doctor Who#Big Finish#Mawdryn Undead#Planet of Fire#The wiki takes alot of info from turlough and the earthlink dilemma which isn't great from what I remember#But also isn't consistent because it implies that mother turlough died before the war but pof says malkon is an infant which doesn't#compute unless he has a different mom I guess#txt from zee#scorge of trion also makes comments about the age differential but like offhandedly#and of course that fic is like the tip of the trifecta of turlough fanfic#Also none of this is truly relevant to the fic except for making jokes and maybe how ages work out for Jack's trip off world lmao
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hi i’m back 😹🫵
for the prompt thingy,, “you’re the best pillow i’ve ever had” with sprace or sheel (you can pick) please?? maybe?? 😀😀
hey pookums!!
only just now remembered you sent me this ask lmao
im gonna do sheel cus they are in fact my bbs and i have Brainrot rn<3
eel slowly drifted into consciousness, blinking at the blinding sunlight streaming through his grimy window. he moved to get out of bed to draw the shade, when a groan came from the weight he hadn't noticed on his chest.
shoe was asleep on him, head tucked under his chin, arms wrapped around his waist and legs tangled so tight with his he wasn't sure where he stopped and shoe started. eel smiled at the sleepy boy, bringing a hand up to push back the strands of hair that had fallen over his face in sleep.
shoe absolutely preened into his touch, nuzzling into his hand and humming contentedly. eel looked fondly down at his lover, wondering what he had done in a past life to be able to deserve an angel.
"g'mornin, tesoro," he said softly, voice deep and raspy from sleep. shoe smiled, eyes still closed as he snuggled closer into eel's neck.
"keep talking, you sound hot in the morning." shoe yawned from under his chin, the crown of his head pressed against his boyfriend's throat. eel laughed, and he was sure shoe could feel the vibration in his chest of it. "yeah? 'sat so?" he said, pressing a kiss to his head and pulling him impossibly closer.
shoe nodded. "yeahuh. you keep on talkin' like that, we might never do nothin today." he yawned aggressively. eel chuckled. "you sleep well last night? on me?" he prodded shoe's side, earning a smack on the face.
his lover reached around and found eel's nose, grabbing onto it. "shaddup, youse the best got-damn pillow i'se ever had." shoe patted eel's entire face with his hand, shushing him like a spooked horse. "just go back to sleep, lovely pillow. i'se still tired."
eel snorted. "aww, harv, i thought youse wanted me to keep talkin? can't very well do that if i'm asleep, huh?"
harvey was silent for a moment as he considered this. "sleep talk. you sleep talk. heard you do it 'fore, anyhow." eel shook his head, laughing quietly in disbelief. "whoa whoa whoa, what? whaddaya mean, youse heard me sleep talk? i don't do nothin more than an occasional roll over in my sleep, thank youse very much."
shoe nodded earnestly. "oh yeah, you says all kindsa stuff. heard ya mutter headlines, 'n somethin about race cheatin' in cards." his words were split by a massive yawn. "oh, and don't even get me started when ya start talkin' about me, jee-sus are your inner thoughts dirty-" eel shoved his face away, face reddening.
"okay, okay, i get it." he chuckled, putting his chin back on shoe's head. "noooo, i don't think ya do! you're so loud about it too-" shoe laughed as eel clamped a hand over his mouth, and laughed even louder when he snatched it back with a yelp when he licked it.
eel wiped his spit covered hand on his lover's undershirt, before wrapping his arms around him again and closing his eyes contentedly.
"love you," shoe muttered. "anch'io ti amo, mia stella."
a coo came from the crate at the foot of the bed, and eel groaned. "sounds like fia has decided to make it known to the world that she's alive again," he grumbled, not moving from the bed. shoe raised his head from his boyfriend's chest as the baby made a louder more insistent noise. "fiadh, youse ok, we'll be there in a min." he called gently. she burbled happily.
the two didn't get up for at least another hour, as the baby fell back asleep shortly after her outburst of announcing her presence.
they sat quietly in eachother's company, enjoying their little bubble of peace.
#eel gets asks!#zee's scribbles!#this was so fun hajdfvakjfvjhsva#them<3#i say#having created these characters#please i love writing abt them#btw the baby's name is chiara fia cattaneo#chiara is pronounced like 'tiara' but you say key instead of the 't'#she's eel's adopted daughter#adopted in that he found her in an alley#shoe calls her 'fiadh' because his family was irish but he doesn't have the accent unless hes rly mad#and fia/fiadh has roots in italy and ireland so like#yeah#oh ig this is an 'eel last name reveal'#its cattaneo#because i said so<3#harvey 'shoe' sellers#ezekiel 'eel' 'zeke'#chiara fia cattaneo#newsies oc#newsies
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A fic where reader likes Aaron but is like 20 years younger than him (I checked the math, even at the start of the show, he was 43 so that wouldn't have been weird. Unless u find that weird? Pretend i said 10 years if that weirds u out) and she thinks she doesn't have a chance with him and that he wouldn't even consider her. And so she just pines over him with the unrequited crush blues. Maybe hotch seems to "baby" her and be extra protective of her so she chalks it up to being the baby of the team. Meanwhile he does not view her as a baby. At all. And maybe he doesn't even realize he treats her any different. Angst welcome! Definitely romance
She/her pronouns for the fic if u want to do it please 🙏 and thank u 😁
– Zee
MY DARLING ZEE
I have been SO excited to post this one, so thank you for requesting it. as usual, I got carried away, but it's daddy hotch so I apologize for nothing
enjoy ;)
warnings: swearing, lots and lots of angst word count: 4.5k
baby.
Furious didn’t even begin to cover the way you felt currently. The entire cabin of the jet was thick with tension radiating from your barely concealed rage, and for a split second you felt guilty, because the team’s discomfort was more than palpable. But as your gaze wandered to the opposite end of the jet and you caught sight of the culprit of your vexation, brooding heavily in your direction, any sliver of remorse evaporated from your pores and your eyes instantly hardened in response.
Fucking Aaron Hotchner.
Hotch’s thick dark brows were pinched together, creating a crease of annoyance right between them, and his lips were pressed in a line that was harsher than usual, causing his frown lines to settle even deeper into the skin around his mouth. His deep umber eyes were void of any warmth, and there was no evidence of faint mirth creasing around them. Instead his lethal gaze was cold as steel, and as rigorous as stone.
You had seen a more intense version of that look several times before whenever he interviewed unsubs that made monsters look like fairytales, and normally it sent a chill down your spine. Not because you were scared of your boss; quite the opposite actually. Every time you watched him stare down the worst of humanity with an aura of disinterest and a hard glare that showed he was completely unimpressed, you found yourself more and more attracted to him. Especially on the rare occasions when he lost his temper and ended up slamming his hands on the table while yelling in their face. You found that incredibly hot.
From the day you met Hotch for your interview, you had found him attractive. Intimidating as hell, but attractive. The fact that he was your boss didn’t deter you from developing a little crush on him, or the fact that he was a widower with a six year old son. None of that stopped the butterflies that swarmed in your stomach every time he gave you a tiny bit of praise in the form of a “good job”, or a simple nod of approval. In fact, the more Hotch warmed up to you, the worse your little crush got.
You found yourself grinning whenever someone made him crack the tiniest of smiles, and nothing fueled your ego more than his quiet snort whenever you said something he seemed to find funny. Hotch surprisingly had a great sense of humor when the stress of being the unit chief of the B.A.U. wasn’t looming over his head. He could be stubborn and closed off sometimes, and he wasn’t always the best with words, but you could tell by his actions that he truly cared about his team. Unfortunately for you, his treatment revealed exactly how he saw you.
The baby of the team.
It was no secret that’s how the rest of the team saw you too. Derek had been teasingly, but affectionately, referring to you as “Baby Spice” since your first day because you were by far the youngest member of the team and beyond feisty. Spencer even joined in with the nicknames, jokingly calling you “kid” with a proud grin now that he was no longer the youngest, even though there was less than a five year gap between the two of you, which Rossi constantly reminded him of with a smack to the back of his head. At a certain point you realized that Rossi just enjoyed messing with Spencer, but you still grinned at him in appreciation every time he came to your defense.
Even though you were far from being a child, Hotch still treated you differently than the others, which did not go unnoticed by anyone. He was far more protective of you, not allowing you to go anywhere alone when the team was working a case, and he hardly ever wanted you in the interrogation room with unsubs. Only after Emily backed you up, insisting it was important to your training, did he finally allow you to interrogate. But it was under the strict condition that he was always the one in the room with you. He never allowed you to enter a crime scene or a suspected location of an unsub first, and the first time you got injured while on a case, resulting in the tiniest of a cut above your eyebrow, Hotch forced you to take a leave of absence for two weeks.
You made it three days before you burst into his office and demanded that he end your leave.
He didn’t.
Because of the way Hotch seemed to “baby” you, it resulted in the rest of the team doing it too. Emily and JJ weren’t as bad about it, but they definitely put themselves in front of you anytime a situation got dangerous. Derek and Hotch were by far the worst and the most obvious about being overprotective, but Spencer and Rossi weren’t far behind. The only one that ever treated you as an equal was Garcia, and that’s why she was your favorite.
And the only one you confided in about your little crush on your boss. Although, you were sure Emily and JJ had caught on by now. They always flashed you a teasing smirk and a little wink anytime they caught you silently pining.
But that was what seemed to solidify that you would never have a chance with Hotch. Not that he was your boss, or that he had traumatically lost his wife, or that he had a young son, or even the fact that he was a good twenty years older than you. It was that he seemed to view you more as a helpless child than a capable woman.
As soon as the jet landed, you were the first one off. You could hear Hotch’s shoes stomping along the floor of Headquarters right on your heels. While you stopped at your desk to drop off your go bag, fully prepared to get your shit and leave, his angry march continued up the stairs towards his office, but he never once took his irritated glare away from your figure.
“Y/L/N, my office. Now.”
Gritting your teeth hard, you turned your head to shoot daggers in his direction, but he had already disappeared into his office. Disregarding the sympathetic concern from your coworkers, you furiously made your way up the stairs and made a dramatic show of slamming the door to Hotch’s office forcefully behind yourself, which in turn made his eyes narrow into vehement slits as he looked at you. He straightened his back, squaring his shoulders while he stepped around his desk to stand a few feet away from you. He looked absolutely pissed, but you were too lost in your own rage to care.
“You were completely out of line-”
“Oh, bullshit! I was doing my job-”
“I gave you a direct order and you ignored it, putting yourself and the entire team at risk.”
Hotch’s voice rose in volume when you combated his critique, and even though you had spoken over him first, the fact that he was now doing it to you only fueled your anger further. You took a bold step forward and glared up at Hotch as you grit your rebuttal out through your teeth.
“I saved that kid’s life-”
“By being reckless! You could’ve gotten him killed. You could have gotten killed. Don’t you get that?”
“But I didn’t! No one got hurt, so what the fuck is the issue-”
“The issue is you.”
Hotch’s comment quickly halted the verbal punch you were about to throw, and as you glared up at him, you noticed that his nostrils were flaring with fury and that his darkened eyes were wild and blown open with pure unbridled rage. The sting of his words caused the wildfire flaring inside of you to shrink to the dull roar of a fireplace blaze. Crossing your arms over your chest in a sign of defiance, you lowered the volume of your voice and layered it with acidity.
“You’re a fucking hypocrite.”
Hotch narrowed his eyes, which seemed to be glowing with resentment, as he took another step towards you, faintly cocking his head to the side.
“Excuse me?”
He was giving you an opportunity to correct yourself. But one thing Hotch hadn’t seemed to learn about you was that you could be just as stubborn as he was, and once you reached a certain stage in your wrath, you didn’t back down. You went straight for the jugular.
“If it had been you, you wouldn’t have called it ‘reckless’. But because it’s me, you flip out and blow the whole fucking thing out of proportion because you treat me like I’m a goddamn child-”
“I wouldn’t treat you like a child if you didn’t fucking act like one.”
At this point, there was barely an inch of space between you and Hotch, and you had to tilt your head back slightly just to return his scowl. He might as well have thrown gasoline on the fire with that comment, and you were suddenly completely fed up with no one in this goddamn building viewing you as a grown fucking woman.
“If it had been Derek, or Emily, you wouldn’t be giving them shit like this. You would’ve given them a slap on the wrist, but still acknowledged that they got the job done. So why do I get treated differently-”
“Because you’re not as good as you think you are, and you’re certainly not as good as them.”
That simple statement hurt worse than if Hotch had physically struck you across the face with the back of his hand. All the fury within you suddenly fizzled out, and you stood there dumbstruck while Hotch let out an exasperated exhale through his nose and turned away from you to walk around the corner of his desk and plop down angrily in his chair. He opened the file currently sitting in front of him and directed his irritated attention solely to the pages, reaching for a pen from the holder to his right to wrap his fingers around. He didn’t even look up as he barked out his next order.
“You’re suspended for three weeks. When you return, we’ll discuss your behavior and your future here at the B.A.U.”
Everything felt like it had suddenly come crashing down around you, and you found yourself wondering if it was all worth it. The stress of the job, the never ending hours, the horrors you saw day in and day out, but especially the treatment you received from Hotch and the others. You started to wonder if you had tricked yourself into believing it wasn’t harmful and had all come from a good place, but now you weren’t so sure anymore. For the first time since joining the B.A.U., you found yourself wanting out.
Swallowing the pieces of the lump that threatened to form in your throat, you lifted your chin slightly and spoke in a quiet but firm voice.
“No.”
Hotch quickly lifted his gaze to glower up at you, the thickness of his brows making him appear angrier from where you stood above him. However the second he caught the look on your face, his eyes softened considerably and he sat up straight, the semi permanent frown on his lips vanishing into a subtle line. His eyes followed the movement of your hand while you pulled the gun from the holster at your hip and sat it down in front of him on the desk, along with your badge. There was a brief flash of panic in Hotch’s eyes when he looked at you again, and his lips parted slightly, but you didn’t give him a chance to speak.
“I quit.”
Turning around to solemnly leave his office, you ignored the gentle pleas of your name leaving his lips. As you descended the stairs, the team’s heads perked up in curiosity, their gazes darting between your melancholic movements while you gathered your things, and the sight of a frantic Hotch rushing down the stairs like a man on a mission.
“Agent Y/L/N, do not walk away from me when I’m talking to you.”
Realizing that he was getting nowhere by being authoritative, Hotch let out an exasperated deep exhale through his nose and lowered the volume of his voice, speaking in a far gentler tone.
“Y/N we have to talk about this, you can’t just leave.”
You didn’t bother looking at any of them as you began your walk towards the elevators. You could still hear Hotch following closely behind you, and all of a sudden Derek’s large figure appeared in front of you. He dipped his head slightly to capture your eyes, the confusion on his features melting into pure concern as he glanced over your shoulder at Hotch before looking back at you. He held his right hand out towards you as if he were extending an olive branch and tilted his head to the side slightly.
“Whoa, what’s goin’ on Baby Spice? C’mon, talk to me.”
Derek was speaking to you in that gentle manner that he used when he wanted to show a victim that he wasn’t a threat. There was no doubt he could see the sadness and defeat glistening in your eyes, but you didn’t have the energy to rip open the wound any further.
“I’m going home. Please move.”
That was all you could manage to weakly get out as you attempted to step around him. But Derek, being Derek, wasn’t having it. He reached out to gently place his hand on your shoulder.
“I’ll drive you.”
“I can drive myself.”
“Baby-”
“I’m not a child, Derek. I don’t need your help, can you back off?”
Derek’s warm gaze widened considerably, and his neat onyx brows rose up his forehead in complete shock. You had never exploded on him like that, or any of the others for that matter. But right now all you wanted to do was get the hell out of there.
“Let her go.”
Derek glanced over your shoulder to look at JJ in pure confusion, but she gave a slight shake of her head while holding his gaze with a firm look in her ocean blue eyes, giving him a nonverbal cue to sit this one out. After a moment of hesitation, Derek removed his hand from your shoulder and took a step to the left to unblock your path.
The entire team was silent while watching you disappear behind the elevator doors.
»»——— ———««
A subtle but firm series of knocks at your door roused you from your sleep. Squinting at the clock on your bedside table, the lime green numbers read ten twenty-three pm. You hadn’t even remembered falling asleep. As soon as you had walked through the door of your apartment hours ago, you kicked off your shoes and crawled in bed, your mind spiraling about what you had just done and what it meant for the future.
When the knocks grew more impatient, you threw your comforter off with an irritated huff and got out of bed, exiting your bedroom to make your way to the living room to figure out who the hell was knocking on your door this late. However when you swung the front door open, your unexpected visitor was the last person you expected it to be.
Aaron Hotchner.
The darkness under his eyes was more prominent than usual, and his neatly cropped hair looked messy, as if he had been stressfully running his fingers through it. The permanent scowl he normally wore was missing from his lips, and there was a faint flicker of concern highlighted in his eyes. The first two buttons of his white dress shirt were undone, and his merlot colored tie hung loosely around his neck.
He looked exhausted.
Instead of speaking, you arched one of your dark brows, silently asking for the reason for his impromptu visit. As he shifted awkwardly to his other foot and cleared his throat, you realized you had never seen him look so unsure of himself.
“May I come in?”
Part of you wanted to slam the door in his face, but a bigger part of you was curious to know why your former boss had shown up at your door unannounced at ten thirty at night. Letting out a deep exhale through your nose, you stepped aside to allow Hotch to pass by you. The second the door shut with a soft click and you turned around to face him, there was already a blanket of irritation tugging his features down. He didn’t even give you a chance to question his presence before speaking.
“You’re a pain in my ass.”
A dry laugh instantly escaped your lips, and a soft furrow settled between your brows while you crossed your arms over your chest.
“Wow, you’re really good at this whole apology thing, huh?”
“I’m not here to apologize. I’m here to be honest with you, and the honest truth is you’re a huge pain in my ass. You’re stubborn, emotionally reactive, not to mention combative-”
“Then why the hell did you hire me-”
“I’m not finished.”
Hotch was speaking in that firm authoritative voice he used whenever he wanted to make it crystal clear he wasn’t in the mood for bullshit or push back. Despite your burning desire to lash out again, you bit your tongue and settled for glaring at him instead.
“You are constantly acting like you have something to prove-”
“Because you make me feel like I have to, Aaron. You, and the rest of the team, make me feel like I have to prove my worth every fucking day. Do you have any idea how exhausting that is? Or how much that makes me doubt myself?”
“Do you ever stop talking long enough to listen to someone else speak?”
Tension hung in the small space of your living room like a heavy and dense fog. Hotch observed you silently for a moment as your frustrations lingered in the air while you refused to meet his eyes. There was an unreadable expression on his face, and he seemed to wait until he could tell your emotions had leveled out slightly before speaking again.
“I admired your compassion.”
Perplexity twisted up your features as you stared across your living room at Hotch.
“What?”
“You asked why I hired you. That’s why.”
He made it sound like it was the most simple statement in the world, but it only added another layer to the cryptic labyrinth you were trying to navigate.
“I don’t understand-”
“When I reviewed your case work with you in your interview, I was impressed by your attention to detail. But I was even more impressed that when I asked you questions about the victims you had worked with, you gave me personal details about them, not just black and white facts that were in their file. You remembered things about them. You humanized them instead of speaking about them like a statistic.”
All you could do was blink at him in surprise. That was the last thing you expected to come out of his mouth. Sensing that a calmness had settled over you, Hotch took a cautious step forward and continued.
“You know just as much about the victims of notorious serial killers as you do about the serial killers themselves. Every solution you have to a problem is led with people in mind, trying to minimize casualties. You speak about victims like people, not numbers or objects. You put everyone’s feelings, and safety, before your own, and that is both the best thing about you and the worst.”
The sincerity in Hotch’s voice caught you off guard, and for a moment you weren’t sure what to say. He spoke to you in the soft voice you had once overheard him speaking to Jack in on the phone, and that caused a fluttering feeling inside your stomach. But it also added to your confusion. If he thought so highly of you, then why did he treat you the way he did?
“Why are you so different with me?”
Hotch let out a deep exhale through his nose, dragging his palm down his face slowly before loosely gesturing to you with his hand.
“Because it’s my job to protect you.”
“No it isn’t.”
It was Hotch’s turn to stare at you in puzzlement, his thick brows knit together in the center of his forehead. Running a hand through your hair in slight irritation, you shook your head slowly.
“I knew exactly what I was signing up for when I applied for this job. I knew it was dangerous-”
“My job as the unit chief is to keep my team safe-”
“No, Aaron. It’s to lead us. We all knew the risks when we joined. There is only so much you can control, you of all people should know that. I know you try to look out for us, but you don’t treat the rest of the team like you treat me. And I get it, okay? I am the youngest on the team, but I’m not a child-”
“I don’t think you’re a child.”
Hotch looked even more perplexed by your words, his head tilted to the side slightly while looking over at you.
“Y/N, your age has nothing to do with the way I treat you-”
“Then what is it?”
That uncertainty was once again shining in his eyes. It looked like Hotch was struggling internally with which version of his truth he wanted to give you. The revelation about your age not being a factor in his treatment filled you with a sense of relief, but also left you with more questions than answers. After what felt like an eternity of silence, Hotch’s face softened considerably as he took a few steps closer towards you.
“I…I care about all of you, and I don’t want to see anything happen to any of you.”
The intensity of his eye contact caused a slight shiver to nip at your spine, and it seemed like there was a hidden meaning to his sentence; something deeper.
“You…care about me?”
The tiniest of smirks tugged at the edge of Hotch’s lips, and his eyes had lightened in color with pure amusement.
“You know, for one of my most brilliant profilers, you’re pretty bad at this. Should I be concerned?”
Warmth bloomed in your cheeks hearing the faint tease lingering at the edge of his question. Hotch had never been this laid back and playful with you before. It almost sounded like he was…flirting?
Your eyes widened slightly while staring up at him, an overly dramatic gasp leaving your lips.
“Was that…a joke? Did you just make a joke? Are you feeling alright? Should I call a doctor?”
Deciding to test the waters, you brought your hand up to place the back of it against his forehead before moving it downwards to place against his cheek, as if you were checking his temperature. All of a sudden, a huge tooth bearing grin stretched across his lips, and your breath caught in your throat.
He was smiling.
Aaron Hotchner was smiling.
He gently grasped your wrist in his large hand, his grin fading to a miniscule smirk while his gaze became a little more intense.
“Actually, smartass, I’m having a bit of a rough night. One of my best profilers quit on me earlier. Although in her defense, I was kind of being a dick.”
“Kind of?”
“Don’t push it. I’m already doing something I normally don’t.”
“Which is?”
“Begging for forgiveness.”
Hotch hadn’t let go of your wrist, and either your mind was playing tricks on you, or he had somehow gotten closer. There was barely a centimeter separating your chests. Him telling you not to push it only made you want to do it that much more, and since you had already technically quit, you decided to throw caution to the wind.
“I don’t hear any begging.”
The mirth in Hotch’s eyes darkened into something you hadn’t seen before, and for a moment you were nervous that you had crossed a line. It felt like he was staring directly into your soul, searching for some answer that would determine his next move.
“You are by far the most frustrating woman I have ever met.”
Woman.
Hotch thought of you as a woman, and that caused a bright grin to stretch across your lips.
“Well, you’re no ray of sunshine either, but I still like you.”
Hotch’s grasp on your wrist tightened slightly at the end of your sentence, and a look of surprise flashed across his face before his eyes returned to that darkened look you couldn’t decipher.
“Is that so?”
His voice was low, but firm, and the sultriness of it nestled comfortably between your inner thighs. All you could do was subtly nod while staring up at him, watching as he leaned in meticulously and painfully slow.
“If I’m reading this wrong-”
“If you’re reading this wrong, you’re a terrible profiler.”
You weren’t one to wait for action, so before he could respond, you reached up to grab onto the back of Hotch’s neck and pulled him down to press your lips against his in a tentative kiss. At first he tensed up, but then you felt his body physically relax, and a soft hum sounded in your throat when he snaked his arm around your waist. Reluctantly pulling away, he gently brushed his nose against yours and whispered.
“So, I’ll see you in the office Monday?”
“Mm, no.”
Hotch pulled back so he could stare down at you in pure perplexity, and you grinned at his facial expression.
“No?”
“I’m suspended, remember? Three weeks, I think it was?”
Hotch’s lips formed into a thin line as he stared down at you, the amusement previously lingering in his eyes completely gone. You couldn’t help but laugh, lightly shoving him away from you with your palms against his chest.
“Hey, you decided my sentence.”
“You were being a brat-”
“And now this brat has a three week vacation. I’ve been meaning to take a trip anyway-”
“Actually, I haven’t filed any paperwork, so you’re not officially suspended, and you’re still a current employee. I’ll see you on Monday, Agent Y/L/N.”
The demanding tone of his voice made you bite down on your bottom lip, and you leaned back against your kitchen island while arching one of your brows in challenge and crossing your arms across your chest with a playful smirk on your lips.
“You don’t wanna see me before that, sir?”
The way you used his title clearly had an affect on him, and you suddenly realized that the emotion eclipsing his eyes was pure lust. He slowly reached his hand up to tug at the loose knot on his tie until it came undone around his neck completely, and he slowly approached you with a wolfish grin.
“Why do you think I’m here?”
tags: @mars-rants-a-lot @ninejlovebot @oscarisaacsleftknee
#aaron hotchner#aaron hotchner x you#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner x female reader#aaron hotchner x fem!reader#aaron hotchner x f!reader#aaron hotchner fic#aaron hotchner request#criminal minds#criminal minds fic#criminal minds request
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I have a question about your OCs…what can turn their rough mode (on a bed) on? 👀
biggest turn-ons
featuring: azra, karasu, zekhan
cw: nsfw / mdni. gn!reader. soft incubus!azra; horny!karasu; feral!zee; demon form sex mentioned (all three); pet names (baby, dear one, darling, bunny, beloved); oral sex (reader and karasu receiving); rough sex; sex in semi-public places (karasu's office and the fall); mentions of sexting (dirty texts and videos or audio); costume play (mc wearing a bunny outfit); teasing; consensual predator/prey kink and fear play (tame and intense scenes); dom/sub undertones; monsterfucking (zee’s demon form specifically).
word count: 6.1k (thank you meg and daisy for supporting me in these dark times)
a/n: some of these ideas are plucked from their nsfw alphabets and expanded on: azra / karasu / zekhan.
AZRA
Azra can easily control when he shifts into his demon form and he wears it often. For ordinary work nights at the club, he prefers his usual suit and coat. As a powerful lust demon, he naturally feeds off the sin radiating off the patrons in the club and he shifts forms naturally when the lustful feelings start to build up inside him. He is usually in his demonic form during casual sexual encounters and reverts back to normal once the afterglow subsides.
He's more conscious about wearing his demon form around you. It's not the most frightening or extraordinary demonic appearance you've seen in the Devildom, but he is still nervous about what you think of him. He doesn't want to scare you.
Azra has a lot of sex but he is starved for genuine affection and love from others. Demons use him for his money or his body, and in the past he did the same.
Taking the time to get to know him and still being able to love him the way he is? Nothing affects him the way you do, a rare vulnerability he allows himself to indulge in because it means he gets to have you. Even the smallest bits of kindness get his heart all twisted up, and he can't resist the urge to return his feelings the best way he knows how.
The first thing you learn about being Azra’s lover is that a single kiss can quickly spiral out of control. The sweet glide of your lips against his leaves him thrumming with desire that darkens his eyes, and his fingers tremble as his hands roam eagerly across your body. His demon form is on display in its naked glory when he starts backing you carefully into his bedroom until you bump into the edge of the bed.
He resists the urge to rip your clothes to pieces and forces himself to take them off slowly, one layer at a time, until they’re scattered carelessly on the floor and your naked body is bare and pinned beneath his. The soft sheets cushion you as he lowers his body gently onto yours and he positions himself between your legs.
He groans into the open-mouthed kisses he smears across your skin while you whimper his name and card your fingers through his unruly curls. He's hard and leaking against the inside of your thighs and his tail twitches in the air behind him.
He slides slowly down your body, leaving a trail of kisses and the faintest marks behind as his mouth slots itself over your arousal and he strokes you eagerly with his talented tongue. He grinds his hips against the mattress to try and relieve the pressure of his throbbing cock, but he doesn’t want to come unless it’s inside you.
Your soul is consumed by fiery lust and it satisfies him in a way no one else’s sin has ever affected him before. He groans your name between soft, sucking kisses and gentle flicks of his tongue against your entrance, and it sends shivers through the rest of your body. His hands hold your shaky thighs steady where they rest on his shoulders, and by the time he drinks down the release you spill across his tongue, you're stretched and ready for him.
You're still reeling from your orgasm when he moves up the bed and positions himself between your legs. He hooks one of your legs against his hips and pushes it up slightly, giving him the perfect angle so he can sheathe himself inside with one smooth stroke.
"I’ll go slow next time, baby, I promise," he murmurs against your lips, lifting his hand to brace himself against the headboard. "But I don’t think I can wait anymore."
He starts fucking you with deep, heavy thrusts, and each one draws a little hiccuped gasp or moan from your lips. He crashes his lips against yours and moans and pants into your mouth. The wooden frame cracks slightly from the pressure of his fingertips and the headboard thumps against the wall, but all you can hear are the strangled groans and curses he muffles into the crook of your neck.
His rhythm picks up speed and his thrusts grow wet and sloppy with his cum when he finally spills inside you with a growl. He tosses his head back and his eyes wince shut from the sensitivity, but he can’t resist the urge to fuck his seed back inside you, not when you writhe helplessly against his sheets and dig your fingers into his back and beg him to keep going.
You’re smothered beneath his body as he stuffs you full with his cum, and his tail coils around the leg wrapped around his waist to hold you in place so he can reach between your bodies and stroke you in time with his desperate thrusts instead.
By the time you come around his cock, you’re both drunk from lust and love and utterly insatiable.
“Don’t stop,” your broken whimpers plead where you press your forehead against his shoulder, and you lave your tongue across his hot, sweaty skin. “Want more of you.”
“I won’t stop, baby,” his raspy voice promises as he rises to his knees and brings your legs up to sit on his shoulders, and he folds you in half so he can fuck you properly. “I can’t.”
KARASU
Karasu uses his wings often, but he rarely shifts into his full demon form. He usually has excellent control over that part of himself, except when he's in bed with you. If things get particularly intense (or if he's in a more dominant/aggressive mood), he might shift to his full form without meaning to. He's so careful with his talons that you might not even realize it at first, unless he clenches the sheets on either side of your head or you catch a glimpse of sharp, black claws before his hand disappears between your legs.
It doesn't take much to get him in the mood. He’s a wonderful contradiction of a demon who accepts your praise or your teasing hints of degradation in equal stride. He’s so easily aroused by the most innocent words or gestures and even the simplest compliments make him feel a little desperate.
Wearing something he bought for you gives him a sudden itch to take it off you again. Wearing something of his means he gets to leave his scent on you in more ways than one by the time he has you on your back or your stomach underneath him.
Sending his D.D.D. dirty messages when he least expects it is almost guaranteed to give him an aching erection no matter where he is or what he’s doing. A flirty text or a suggestive photo that shows him a hint of naked skin is more than enough to leave him panting while his erection stirs to life and presses against the zipper of his pants.
And then there are times when he’s the one trying to entice you to be a little naughty. He sends you filthy texts while you’re at RAD and describes whatever wicked fantasy he dreamt about last night, or he recites in excruciating detail all his dirty thoughts while he fisted his cock that morning.
He calls you and leaves you sweet messages to have a nice day and to think about all the ways he plans on touching you and kissing you and fucking you when he sees you later.
Sometimes you have a bit of free time in your schedule, so perhaps a little visit at his office would do you both some good.
Karasu is so considerate.
It doesn't matter where you are or what you're doing. You wake up each morning to a sweet-as-sugar message on your D.D.D., or if you stayed overnight in his nest, he wakes you with a line of sleepy kisses along your shoulder and a soft, "Good morning, dear one," murmured huskily into your ear.
He would argue that caring for you is simple, a natural instinct that stirs inside him to provide for you and make you smile and keep you safe. Your comfort is his utmost priority.
Sometimes that means pushing you away from where you're nuzzling against his aching erection through his suit so he can slide off his jacket.
"Wait," he asks breathlessly, handing you the bespoke garment that crumples in his twitchy grip like paper. "Sit on this, darling."
If you're so eager to kneel on his office floor in an eager rush to suck his cock, the least he can do is make sure your knees won't be too sore afterwards.
His stifled whimpers and moans start to fill the office and you've barely touched him; the anticipation of what’s to come is enough to leave him a trembling mess. His fingers clench the armrests of his chair while you flick open his belt and tug down the zipper with a jovial little hum.
The tip of his cock glistens when you tug down his boxer briefs, and he exhales a sharp little whine when you lick at the salty beads oozing slowly from the tip. His chair shakes from the tremor in his thighs, and his hips twitch and jerk restlessly while you lick broad, thick stripes along his shaft before easing him between your lips. He's hot and heavy on your tongue, and you wrap your fingers at his base where his dawny-soft black hair cushions your fist. You pump him slowly, smooth and wet from the spit pooling in your mouth and dripping down his cock, while your head bobs up and down his length in a steady rhythm.
He's so lost in the hot, wet vice of your mouth that he doesn't notice that his glasses slip off the bridge of his nose and clatter or the floor, or that the armrests of his chair are ruined by deep, scraggly lines where his nails scramble to find purchase.
All that matters — all he cares about — is that you don't stop.
"I'm—I'm close," he whines noisily, panting deep in his chest. His back arches away from the chair and he pushes deeper into your mouth, but he stammers out an apology when he realizes what he’s done.
You curl your fingers around the curve of his hip to encourage him to move and to take what he wants from you. He hesitates for a moment, but then a shaky hand rests gently on the crown of your head, not pushing you down but simply holding you there. His fingers twitch helplessly against your scalp as his hips jerk into your mouth and the noises and choked pleas tumbling from his lips grow louder and more desperate.
A loud, monotonous chime from his terminal startles you both, and he whines so pathetically at the interruption. It’s a weekly meeting he forgot about, boring and unnecessary but mandatory, and he nearly curses in frustration.
Voices stream quietly into the room as the program pops up on his monitor. Your shoulders slump slightly with a deflated sigh, but his hand on the back of your head keeps you from moving away. When you shoot him a questioning look, he glances at the screen and back to you again, and he nibbles on his bottom lip while he contemplates his choices.
He should compose himself and bid you farewell until this evening when he's finished work for the day, but that’s easier said than done. You’re still kneeling at his feet, your bright eyes are glassy and wet and dark with desires of your own, and your lips are plump and shiny and so utterly kissable. His abdomen twitches with the disappointment of his interrupted release and he can only imagine how desperate you are, even though you’re hiding your own needs while satisfying his own.
It's not like he ever needs to speak at these meetings anyway, and knowing that, it doesn’t take him long to decide at all.
He confirms his camera is off and he's muted on the call before he pulls gently on the back of your neck and urges your mouth towards his cock again. His spontaneous burst of greedy lust warms the blood in your veins and shoots straight to the spot between your legs. You’re throbbing from your own neglected arousal and it certainly doesn’t help that he lets out the most sinful, desperate moan when you take him back into the wet heat of your mouth.
He cradles the sides of your face gently when you begin moving up and down his cock with renewed vigor. His hips are rocking of their own volition now, shallow and arhythmic but still so needy, and you know he must be close. When you glance up at him from beneath your lashes, he’s utterly entranced by the sight of your fingers pumping his shaft while you suck on the dark, pulsing head of his cock before sliding your lips down his length over and over again.
“I’m so close, please don’t stop, please, I’m gonna—!” His high-pitched whine serves as a warning so that you can move your mouth away if you don’t want his seed in your mouth, but your lover is nothing but considerate, and you reward him by taking him deeper than before, teasing your gag reflex and letting him feel you choke on his cock.
He covers his mouth to muffle himself as he spills down your throat with a sharp gasp and a wailing cry, and your lips drag along his cock one more time as you pull back just to hear him whimper from the sensitivity. He watches with a heavy, half-lidded gaze and swallows hard when you wipe a smear of cum from the corner of your mouth and lick it clean.
He goes completely still for a moment, but then his cock twitches with renewed interest and he pulls you off the floor and into his lap. He breathes your name with utter reverence when he slides his hand into your pants and feels how soaked you are between your legs. His fingers stroke you gently and you let him taste himself when you lean forward and kiss him.
You rock your hips and coax his hand closer to where you want it most while your thighs shake on either side of his hips. Warm puffs of air against the soft skin of your neck makes you shudder in his embrace, and he murmurs sweet praise while he fucks you with his greedy fingers (and his tongue after that, and then his cock when he’s hard again and he finally bends you over his desk).
ZEKHAN
Compared to the others, Zekhan has the most control over his demonic form. Even if he accompanies you to a party at the prince's castle, he's one of the few demons in attendance that hides his demonic appearance. It's very rare that he would shift into it by accident, although a wrath-driven rage could trigger that.
He doesn't want to use his demonic form in bed with you, at least not right away. It will take a long time before he's comfortable letting you see it. The scars on his body are more prominent in that form and he's self-conscious about them. It's also a bit more animalistic than some of the other demons you know, and he's worried about your reaction to his wings and claws and ears.
He will shift into his true form for certain predator/prey-type games you play together, but he's usually obscured by darkness. That gives you the chance to explore him slowly and at his pace while letting him indulge in the rare sensation of your hands or mouth moving across his body.
A lot of things turn him on, but he's a bit more disciplined about curbing his impulse to act on it right away. He likes to tease you and let the anticipation build. Sending each other dirty texts while he's at work (or while you're at RAD) are a guaranteed way to stir his interest.
Although he tries to be gentle with you, he's the most feral if you tease him with an opportunity to play one of your little games together. He's happy to indulge you with whatever level of excitement (or fear) you're comfortable with; you're his prize at the end either way, and that's enough to satisfy him.
Once you're in a relationship, Zee realizes his biggest mistake is underestimating you. He knows you'll be attending tonight's bunny event at The Fall for the first time since you arrived in the Devildom. What he doesn't expect is for you to walk through the front doors, surrounded by the Avatars of Sin, in a bunny outfit of your very own.
He can only assume that Azra and Asmodeus conspired to keep this secret from him, and what a lovely secret it is. The bunny ears on your head bend slightly at the ends which gives them a floppy appearance. They would look ridiculous on most people, but on you, they’re positively charming. The colourful jewel-toned ears bounce slightly with each step you take, and the colours suit you so beautifully that it confirms for him that this outfit was custom-made for you.
He spots a flash of white when you turn around to speak to someone, and he realizes there's a little tail attached to the back of your suit too.
Fucking hell.
He tilts his head to the side as he drinks in your appearance and considers all the delightfully wicked things he’d like to do to you. It’s calculating, almost predatory how his golden eyes darken as lust pools behind them. Something primal stirs deep in his chest the longer he stares at you. You're the tasty little treat that's stepped into his domain, and he'd love nothing more than to devour you.
As if you can hear his thoughts, you look around until you catch his piercing stare from across the room; even from that far away, the glint in his eyes is positively hungry. You can’t help but stare doe-eyed as he wets his mouth, running his tongue slowly along his bottom lip and teasing you with the tiniest glimpse of his fangs.
His sensitive hearing picks up your sharp intake of breath, and he smirks at the flustered expression on your face before you concede and finally look away.
He carries on with overseeing the final preparations like nothing happened while you walk away with the others and head further into the club. A chilly sensation spreads through him that he can only describe as longing when you finally step out of his view, but he ignores the feeling for now.
Besides, the evening is just getting started.
ZEKHAN: I came to visit you on your break but you're not resting with the others. Where are you hiding, bunny?
YOU: Come find me and you'll see. 🐰
ZEKHAN: A tempting offer.
ZEKHAN: Beloved, I'm asking you sincerely.
ZEKHAN: Do you want to play that game right now?
YOU: Yes I do.
YOU: Please? I know you do too.
ZEKHAN: Such a naughty thing.
ZEKHAN: Very well. Stay where you are, hm?
YOU: If you don't hurry, I might finish before you get here.
There are several places in the club you can hide from him. He’s shown you most of them himself when he originally gave you a tour when you were a new arrival to the Devildom. Later on, he realized how convenient they were when he was desperate to fuck you somewhere you wouldn’t get caught.
This particular game requires a certain amount of privacy and space. He searches the obvious locations first - the staff break rooms, the mostly-empty offices on the second floor, the cluster of private rooms patrons can rent for the evening - but finds no trace of you or those floppy ears or that cottony-soft tail.
When he finally picks up the faintest whiff of your scent near the door that leads to the basement, he can’t help the grin that spreads across his face. Of course you’re clever enough to lead him somewhere cool and dark where there’s very little risk of being interrupted.
There's only a sliver of moonlight that shines through one of the tiny windows near the basement ceiling. It only takes a moment for his eyes to adjust to the sudden darkness, and he groans when he finally spots you leaning against the wall across from him. The buttons of your shirt are undone and he can see the strip of naked skin where it falls open. He notices a moment later that one of your hands is under the waistband of your pants and he can hear and smell the scent of your arousal as you stroke lazily between your legs.
A soft sigh falls from your lips and makes his mouth run dry. Your eyes flick up to meet his gaze at last, and it’s so satisfying to see the desire swirling in your dark eyes is strong enough to match his own.
He crosses the room in an instant and there's a faint gust of air as his wings manifest and open wide with a leathery snap. He maneuvers you quickly as if you weigh nothing and bends you over a rickety old table, yanking your tedious clothes down and out of the way until he can finally touch your bare skin with his clawed fingers.
You stare transfixed at the monstrous shadow on the wall as he stretches you open with his thick fingers first, carefully so he doesn’t scratch you, and then his cock once you’re slippery with his spit and lube. His lips brush against your temple and behind your ear, littering your skin with soft kisses while you adjust to the feeling of him stretching you open. His hips rock in a slow grind until you're ready and then he moves slowly at first, thrusting inside you with slow strokes that slowly gather speed with every desperate, whiny moan that he pulls from your throat.
He makes a questioning sound when you reach over your shoulder and offer him your fingers, still sticky from when you touched yourself earlier, and he sucks them eagerly into his mouth with a growl as he starts fucking you in earnest. Your fingers slip from his mouth once he's licked them clean, and he traps them gently between his teeth before you can pull them away completely.
His pace quickens and his thrusts grow more forceful when you push your hips back and match his rhythm. One of your hands ends up tangled in his hair while your back arches against his chest, and he breathes hot and damp against the back of your neck and grunts in your ear.
You can barely hear the obscene squelch your bodies make as he fucks you senseless, or the creak of the wobbly furniture supporting your combined weight, or the scratching sound of his fingers digging into the wood for leverage.
Your body clenches around him and when he feels his orgasm approaching, he reaches between your legs and strokes you in time with his thrusts; you finally come with a cry, and he follows behind you with a raspy groan of your name. He fucks you through the aftershocks of your pleasure with slow, lazy thrusts and finally stops once you've milked him dry. His body shakes from the overstimulation of fucking his cum back inside you.
By the time your thighs stop trembling and he turns you in his arms, all evidence of his demon form is gone; only the slight pulsing glow of his golden-yellow eyes remains. He kisses you softly with just a hint of tongue and teeth while you both sigh into each others’ mouths.
As always, he came prepared. He reaches into his suit jacket and slips his glasses back onto the bridge of his nose first before he pulls out a small packet of wet wipes. He kisses your thighs and nips playfully at the sensitive skin while he wipes the slick and cum away; he’s satisfied you’ll still smell like him but now you can finish the evening more comfortably.
He straightens your clothes for you and as he buttons up your shirt, he leans forward and kisses the bare skin that slowly disappears from view. One more kiss and a murmured I love you is all you have time for before he leads you back upstairs, and he smirks when you walk away with the slightest hitch in your step.
(You're only a few minutes late returning from your break, but no one bothers to ask where you were - they can already guess.)
A more intense version of this little game involves waiting until the event is over and taking a short drive to the outskirts of the city.
The quiet anticipation in the car is nearly suffocating, and Zee glances at you with a guarded look from the corner of his eye. He drives one-handed and steers the car expertly to your destination while the other rests on your thigh; it feels like a fiery-hot brand through your clothes.
He seems unaffected by the lust radiating off both of you like a fog, but the tips of his fangs peek underneath the hungry curl of his lips. When you glance down at his lap, there’s a growing wet stain where his hard and eager cock strains against his pants.
The location he takes you to is a large patch of forest at the back of Azra's estate. It's far enough away to give you both the privacy you need, but it’s close enough that help is nearby if anything goes wrong. The area is scouted regularly to make sure there are no dangerous creatures lurking inside the woods that might harm you while you’re alone and vulnerable.
Zee drives the car to the end of the dirt road that ends near the tree line. He exhales sharply through his nose and puts his glasses in the glove compartment before getting out of the car and walking around the vehicle to help you out of your seat.
He’s usually sweet and affectionate before these types of games, but tonight he rests his hands on your shoulders to keep you from stepping too close to him.
"I love you." His voice is rough but his eyes burn with the steady glow of his body overcome with sin, and you learned how to read the emotions in his gaze by now: love, desire, hunger.
"I love you too."
His hands slide up your neck and brush the sides of your face. "Colour?" he asks quietly. His thumbs rub soft circles into the dimples of your cheeks when you smile.
"Green."
Something in the air shifts, like cool air roiling over you before a storm, and he circles you slowly - the way a predator would - until he stands at your back. There's a familiar ruffle of fabric and leather behind you, then he smooths his hands gently over your shoulders. A clawed wing curls around the side of your body and strokes your cheek with surprising tenderness.
"Time to run, bunny." Hot breath tickles your ear when he leans forward and kisses the words into your skin. "Don’t stop and don’t look back."
The growl in his voice causes goosebumps to break out across your skin and you freeze. Normally he waits for you to make it to the woods before he changes form but so many things about tonight are different.
What does it say about how much he trusts you that he would do it so soon?
And what does it say about how uncontrollably desperate he is for you?
But you don’t have time to contemplate the answers to either of those questions, not when feet shuffle behind you in restless anticipation.
You take one hesitant step forward, and then another, until you're running into the dark forest that welcomes you into its maw. The trees looming overhead block most of the moonlight and you slow down while your eyesight adjusts. Your D.D.D. is in your pocket, but illuminating your path with the flashlight would be cheating; it’s also a visual signal to him that you want the game to end, and it’s far too soon for that.
The branches high above your head rustle in the night's cool breeze and ambient noises of the forest echo all around you. You can’t be sure how long it’s been, but it’s curious that you've not seen or heard any sign of him behind you. Sometimes he likes to call out to you teasingly, goading you into some sort of response that will lead him closer to your position. He can be so mischievous and playful when he brings you here, but tonight the tension of his unusual behaviour settles uncomfortably in the pit of your stomach.
You recall how stiff he was earlier, how restless he was like he couldn’t wait to sink his cock or his teeth into you. You remember the rumbling growls in his chest on the drive here, the way his hand shook on your thigh. You realize he’s not patient enough to play a drawn-out game tonight, and the implication is terrifying and arousing in equal measure.
The forest might be safe for you to venture in alone, but there are still other creatures that live here. Small Devildom rodents skitter across the ground and up into the trees. Birds with unfamiliar hoots and caws watch you from above with their strange, unblinking eyes. The occasional snap of a branch or the sudden rustle of leaves startles you like thunder; the sounds carry on the wind and it's impossible to pinpoint where they're coming from.
You shriek more than once when you spin around and look for a pair of golden eyes peering at you from the darkness, but there’s nothing there despite the heavy sensation of a weighted gaze searing into your back the moment you turn around again.
A sudden, startlingly loud crash nearby rips a scream from your throat and your eyes catch movement in your peripheral view. When you squint into the distance, you can see a splintering branch hanging precariously from one of the tall trees before it drops to the ground.
Was the branch already damaged and it finally gave way on its own?
Or was it broken by the weight of something stalking its prey from high above?
You carefully step back away from the tree as if you expect something - or someone - to jump out at you from the undergrowth, but nothing happens.
You stumble into something warm and solid behind you and strong arms wrap around you to keep you from falling, and a hoarse scream dies in your throat when he covers your mouth with his hand.
So this is how the game finally ends.
He utters your name in a raspy whisper close to your ear; his voice sounds as rough as yours does. Tears slip from the corners of your eyes when you sag against him, even though adrenaline and fear slowly fade from your still-trembling body.
"You did so well." His praise soothes your rattled nerves and you lean further back against him. His hand slides away from your mouth until it rests above your hammering heartbeat.
His skin feels feverishly hot against your back and he’s slightly damp with sweat. You’re lost in the cloud of his scent, one that's so perfectly him, something fresh and earthy like wet leaves after a thunderstorm.
"Zee." His name is a broken whimper that falls from your lips. His other hand slides down your front and his fingers tease along your waist before dipping down into your pants. He curses under his breath when he feels the hot, slick proof of your arousal between your legs.
"Colour," he grits out, a strangled plea that betrays the desire coursing through him.
"G-green, please, green," you answer with a hiccup.
He removes his hand from your pants so he can push you to your hands and knees on the forest floor. He shushes you when you whine at the loss of his fingers and he drapes himself over your back, a move that feels protective as much as it does possessive, and he buries his nose in the crook of your neck. He breathes in deep and savours the scent of your sweat and perfume and arousal and fear on his tongue, and his hips jerk and grind his erection against the swell of your ass.
"Want you," you whine pathetically when you wiggle your hips back and encourage him to give you more.
"I'm here.” The tremor in his voice betrays his fraying self-control but his promise sounds sincere. "You have me."
Hot, open-mouthed kisses sear across the back of your neck and along your jaw as he grasps your chin and tilts your face towards his. You can't see him through the watery sheen that pools along your lashes, but you catch a glimpse of his lust-darkened eyes and the bulky shape of his wingspan at his back. When his mouth presses against yours, it's less of a kiss and more of a desperate glide of tongue-against-tongue between deep, shuddering breaths and needy moans.
"You're so perfect," he whispers thickly as he pulls away from your mouth and flicks his tongue against your ear. He braces himself with one clawed hand digging into the earth while the other tears at the front of your shirt. Buttons pop from the seams as the flimsy fabric gives way to his sharp nails and inhuman strength.
He leans back on his knees with a shuddered sigh as he rips the fabric away and exposes your bare back to him. He rubs up and down the grooves of your spine and trails his fingers over the curve of your hips. "You’re so, so lovely like this. Fuck, the things I want to do to you."
You rest your cheek on your arms when he pushes your chest down and encourages your back to curve into a deeper arch. Firm hands grip the sides of your pants next and tear them away next, followed by your flimsy underwear. The cool night air chills your bare skin until he leans over you and warms your body with his own.
You’re utterly trapped beneath him, naked and vulnerable in a way that should fill you with shame or fear, but his words are genuine and his touch is gentle.
Perhaps this little tease would go on a little longer, but you know he’s already testing the limits of his self-control and you don’t want to wait anymore either.
You’ve wanted this all night, and you need him now, desperately.
“Show me then. I want you to, please.”
You squirm with anticipation when he lets out a rumbling growl close to your ear. Something hot and heavy, slick with a generous layer of lube, moves between your legs and nudges at your entrance with the faintest bit of pressure. The tip of his cock teases you with shallow dips as he stretches you open slowly, each stroke sliding in deeper, inch by agonizing inch. He teases the sensitive spot inside you until he finally buries himself to the hilt with a snarl, and you answer with a startled cry as the pulsing emptiness inside is deliciously filled by him.
“I’ll give you everything you want,” he promises darkly as he starts moving at a brutal pace, and his clawed fingers dig into your hips and pull you down onto his cock to meet each of his deep, perfect thrusts. “Now take it.”
Azra has a vague idea of what happens when Zee takes you to the forest behind his house. He doesn't need or want the details as long as you're both happy and unharmed. However, it takes him far too long to notice that your visits to the woods coincide with certain parties at The Fall, and he's genuinely confused as he looks over preparations for the upcoming bunny event.
"Wait, we had to buy another bunny outfit?" he asks, rubbing the back of his neck as he reads over the invoice in his hands. "What happened to the other one? The last event was only a month ago.” Now that he thinks about it, he vaguely recalls ordering a new uniform for you then, too. "This must be the third one we've replaced by now."
Zee pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose with a hum. "The fourth, actually. If it helps, I still have the bunny ear headbands." His lips twitch into a remorseful smile, but the gleam in his eyes is far too pleased for his apology to be sincere. "Unfortunately, the rest was...unsalvageable."
return to: oc masterlist | obey me masterlist
#obey me#obey me oc#obey me smut#obey me x reader#obey me oc x reader#gn!reader#x reader#my oc: azra#my oc: karasu#my oc: zekhan
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Favorite first kiss?
Favorite First Kisses!
Doozie of a question. Here we go...
1 Until We Meet Again
I mean COME on. How could this not be the #1 best first kiss? It's so gentle and so good and so hot and just... EVERYTHING a first kiss should be in life. A++ romantic
2 Old Fashion Cupcake
THE LONG SHOT. The desperation. The finger bite. The oozing THIRST. A++ quality desire incarnate
3 Why R U? Korea
Korea, scooping in a top spot? It's just the body language, the striding in, dropping the backpack, the surprised MUTUAL response (no flinching), and all the yearning. A++ want
(Foreshadow: This may... or may not... be my top kiss of 2023.)
4 Bad Buddy
Seriously boys, BOYS! You had to make it so beautiful and so painfully heartbreaking at the same time? Thanks for that. A++ pain
(They may have a light kiss before this one, I can't remember. I keep meaning to do a BB rewatch but I have to gear up for it.)
5 Semantic Error
I mean, well, OBVIOUSLY. Just A++ they perfect, no notes
6 Second Chance
I am pretty sure this one got best kiss of 2021. All you KinnPorche stans are sleeping on this little gem = Tong delivering what amounts to BLs best drunk kiss ever. FIGHT ME. A++ confused needy babies
7 About Youth
Speaking of sweet af first kisses from first timers. This one drips in sweet innocence including a rainbow and some smiles. A++ first sweethearts
8 HIStory 2 Crossing the Line
Okay the actors kiss for a dream sequence before this but this is the characters' first kiss, so that kinda counts, right? It's just such a pretty kiss. A++ stay on target, stay on theme, utterly unique
9 My Dear Gangster Oppa
Ya know this show is just so much fun and so solid and this pair deserves more accolades then their previous series afforded them. A++ finally, well done you
10 I Feel You Linger in the Air
Okay it's just all the dialogue and execution around this kiss is great and then the kiss ALSO doesn't disappoint. Plus permission and snark and so much more. A+++ class & storytelling
Also, whaan (sweet) is a really good word to have seared into one's brain in Thailand. Useful when ordering drinks.
Okay they kinda kissed before but this is the one that counts:
I didn't know how else to put this category but I had to include it so I could include this kiss:
We Best Love
The crying bridge-top kiss. I mean COME ON. One of my favorite kisses of all time. I love it when the weep+smooch.
La Pluie
Honestly? All their kisses are good so I can't remember if this was their first but, it great. Frankly, off all their kisses it's not my absolute favorite, but they deserve a mention because... wow boys. Just... wow.
The Eclipse
Because of their dynamic I am pretty sure there was something before this one, but this one lives in my head.
Be Loved In House I Do
I'm not sure this counts as their first because I can't remember the sequence in BLIHID (he through line is a bit wonky in my brain) but it is a killer kiss.
There should be more Taiwan but...
The thing is, once a Taiwanese BL starts delivering great kisses they just keep it up. So unless the narrative puts particularly strong plot intent on the "firstness" of that first kiss, they just get all sexy domestic muddled in my head.
Honor the Crumbs - Sides & Shorts, Best First Kisses
Some More
"You can kiss me, heong."
2 Moons 2 - MingKit
It's just such a sweetly perfect first kiss of the very first time variety. Before About Youth, we had these two.
Cutie Pie - NueaSin
Kissing the kiss that won them their own series. No other audition needed. In the land of amazing kisses, and up against Zee, this ONE stood way out. Very good boys. Very good indeed.
kiss x kiss x kiss - perfect scandal (AKA the office ep)
Look, this is the kiss we should have gotten in Cherry Magic. It's great, both the hesitant "permission given" first part and everything that comes next. Track this down if you can, it's a lovely little short from Japan.
My Secret Love - TimMai
Very minor side dishes but they were all I cared about in this show. They gave me the kiss I wanted even if they didn't get the screen time the deserved.
You're My Sky - SanAi
We all know they stole this show, not that there was much to steal.
Kiss Me Again - PeteKao
Maybe not the best as a kiss, but it was 2016 and this was SO SIGNIFICANT to the fandom, to the plot of the show, to coming out, to EVERYTHING. This is THE TayNew kiss. I will never forget it. Never.
I don't have a good screen cap but MarkOuwen's kiss in the taxi in Love is Science? was also fantastic.
(source)
Kisses as of Dec 2023. Not responsible for great first kisses that come after this date.
Opinion and preferences based on these ideas of good kiss chemistry.
I want you thoughts, RT and add your favorites or leave a comment. I'm sure I'm forgetting some.
MORE?
#best kisses in BL#b est first kisses#Thai BL#Korean BL#Japanese BL#Taiwanese BL#kisses in BL#beautiful boys kissing#Until we meet again#Why R U? Korea#Bad Buddy#Semantic Error#second chance#About Youth#history 2: crossing the line#My Dear Gangster Oppa#i feel you linger in the air#We Best Love#La Pluie#The Eclipse#be loved in house i do#2 moons 2#mingkit
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Can you do Erik with a bratty gf glasses wearing girl ????
Rule #1: Refer to me as only daddy or sir
Rule #2: No panties
Rule #3: No cumming unless given you permission
Rule #3: No touching unless given permission
Rule #4: Always be honest
Rule #5: Don't be a Brat, Punishment will meet actions
(Y/N) sadly looked at Erik as he got ready for work. She knew that he was going to be busy all day for his 12 hour shift, probably not being able to see her for the rest of the day but that didn't matter. She needed him. She was mad at herself for being tired when she came over. Her classes had her stuck in her laptop and books, so as she soon as she saw his bed she was out like a light.
Erik didn't mind though, he knew that (Y/N) was working hard to become a RN, and he also knew that she needed her rest. Matter of fact, he needed her to have all her rest for Spring Break that was ahead. He was determined to use her to his content, (obviously with her consent) and he needed her to have all her rest. He took off the entire week just to spend time with her. This was the last day.
"Don't look at me like that." he told her. Her pouting, and her eyes enhanced by the glasses made him want to just call out and fuck her senseless now.
"I just miss you. I haven't had you in what.. two weeks?" she complained. He closed his eyes sighing. The way this girl was so persuasive didn't help his need for her. He grabbed her by his cheeks making her look at him. "Please daddy, I just want to put my mouth on it. Two minutes, please?" she pouted again. His squeeze tightened as her glasses moved on her face, being crooked. She fixed her glasses by pushing them with her middle finger in the middle.
"Be a good girl, okay? Daddy will take care of you when he gets home if your good okay? We will go to one of your favorite restaurants, I promise." he told her grabbing his coat and his lunch. He was dreading going into his 12-hour shift at the hospital as a neuro-surgeon.
The two of them met at a medical convention in L.A almost a year ago. Her school decided to do a field trip for all medical students to be able to have a chance of networking. He was a speaker at the convention, and immediately she caught his eye. She was in the front row, taking notes with her iPad with her red zee-loo framed glasses. She asked the most questions, and was the most entuned in the conversation. Obviously, a lot of the girl students were asking questions about him personally because of how good looking he was. (Y/N) was different, she wanted to get all of the details on the health field.
Now, here they are almost a year later, and Erik has have her heart and he has hers. Helping her with her studies, letting have a place to lay her head when she didn't want to be with her roommates.
Her pouting face was now angry, Erik automatically realized it. "Fix your face." he gave her a kiss on the lips as she rolled her eyes. Luckily, he didn't see it as he turned around walking to the door. "Break a rule and your ass is mine! Daddy loves you!" he yelled and he was out the door. She turned around looking at his empty apartment.
12 fucking hours.
She was on hour 8 and she did everything she could think off. She turned in some last minutes assignments, did the laundry, clean out his refrigerator, and cleaned up the entire apartment. She still had time to herself, so she decided to have a little fun. She'll start of small.
Recently just getting out the show, she sat in front of his wide body mirror taking pictures of herself. Some were innocent, some were not so innocent.
Erik sat down exhausted from the five hour surgery of a a traumatic car crash. Grabbing his phone, he saw that their was a few text messages from his dear (Y/N) grabbing it. Opening the text, he immediately put it back to his chest as he saw glimpses of what she was doing.
He turned around to make sure that there was no one staring from behind, before lowering his brightness and looking at the photos. "My God..." he whispered to himself.
There she took an innocent looking picture on the bed with nothing on. He could even see in the picture how she sat where her thighs and ass making her thickness more provident. The only piece of clothing (more like accessory) was those same red framed glasses that made him fall in love even more. The things he wanted to make her do was dangerous.
The next photo was her sitting on the floor, leaned against the bed with her spreading her pussy wide enough for him to see but not enough to see everything. The hints of red on her toes, on her fingers, and her glasses was something that was sending him on edge, especially with her dark skin.
Erik : Did I not tell you to touch yourself.. you tryna get that ass spanked I see.
(Y/N): Daddy I haven't touched myself, I just sent you pictures.
(Y/N): But it's so hard, can I play with one of your pillows daddy?
(Y/N): Technically I wouldn't be touching myself...
Erik : No little girl, what the fuck did I tell you
It was a minute before he received a response. He assumed she was upset with him for denying her a rightfully and much needed orgasm but he didn't care.
He was sadly mistaken.
There in their text thread, was a video of her riding one of his pillows, nipples hard, and clitoris grinding against the pillow. She was definitely in need of a orgasm with the way her clit was swollen and moving against the pillow.
Her eyes was to the back as she continued winding her hips, gripping onto the pillow with one hand and playing with her titties on the other hand.
With his eye twitching, his dick damn near pulsating, he knew he couldn't finish the rest of the shift.
#erik kilmonger x reader#erik stevens#erik stevens smut#erik stevens x reader#killmonger fanfiction#erik killmonger smut#erik stevens ua
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They could get out. He hadn't bothered to seal them in, they could clear that jump. But could they find a way off the shelf before he came back? Could they actually get away? He'd stripped them of their gear and left it out of reach on the distant floor below. Val had learned long ago not to waste an escape route unless they were sure it could lead them all the way to safety. If he caught them running, he'd be even angrier than he already was and Val could be sure he'd never make the same mistake of leaving them in an open container again. Zee would come looking for them. Wouldn't she? She had in the past when Val went missing, when her friend had...Val swallowed. Not a good time for that memory. Zee would be mad about the botched run, but she would find them again, save them again. Val looked up at the sound of approaching footsteps, almost hopeful, as if their thoughts could have summoned her for a rescue. But no, not yet.
are you even having fun if you're not inflicting trauma on your ocs
#(this is backstory stuff)#my art#g/t art#g/t#my writing#giant/tiny#giant tiny#borrowers#stranger swap#oc: val#oc: azalea#<- mentioned anyway (zee)#gt stands for get tortured right#uhhhh im done with this pic I think even though I could do more with it#reocs
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MK's (and MKulia's) odds according to EP9-13 leaks. (Spoilers, obvi.)
hey all! i have too many thoughts and instead of going on a long ramble on my priv i thought i could.. y'know.. actually share my thoughts for once! i'm gonna say this right now that my thoughts may leave a rather negative tongue, so if mkulia (or mk!) is ur comfort and u don't wanna hear anything bad i suggest not reading this!! without further ado, time to ramble!
i'll talk about MK first before i talk about my thoughts on MKulia. right off the bat: she's getting eliminated EP9. this just goes without saying i think but i want to elaborate on this more. in EP8 we have: raj | wayne | julia | MK | caleb | priya | damien | zee in EP10 we see damien:
in EP12 we see caleb:
and in EP11 we see wayne and raj's clothes:
and going back to EP10's description, both julia and priya are mentioned:
AS FAR AS EP9 GOES, this leaves: raj | wayne | julia | MK | caleb | priya | damien MK is not mentioned nor seen. at all. and yes, raj is left up in the air as well but at least there is higher hopes for our silly guy. there has been the popular theory of "well, raj may have given wayne his hoodie to remember him!" but... i think the odds of that are low? raj gifting wayne something before getting eliminated is very plausible, but i see no reason as to why he'd give away his hoodie to him? i feel like if that was the case he would have given wayne something else IMO. even if we don't take it at full face value, there's still a very low chance that MK's safe from elimination (and she'd probably be safe for like another 2 episodes if she were to be safe EP9. the odds of her being a finalist are also incredibly low). after being outed as a cheater, she hasn't been doing all that well in challenges either and since EP9's challenge has to do something with breaking objects, i can only imagine how well she'd do with that. and MKulia can make their alliance not-so-obvious-and-not-so-strong for so long. people are gonna want to break them up. now let's say MK's out EP9. this leaves both priya and julia as the only female contestants remaining in the game. and assuming they're going to add a female finalist it's going to be julia. and ALSO assuming we're going to get helpers for the finale, we MAY get more mkulia content. it's not that bad! may i also add EP9's title is 'Breaking Up Is Hard To Do' while yes this is about prileb, this could also be about mkulia. with mk getting eliminated, julia has to deal with fighting on her own. and we know very well that julia cares for MK, platonic or not. So what does this mean for MKulia? people fail to realize what mk getting eliminated means. we get to see how julia deals with it (unless she just moves on and doesn't care like what priya kind of did when millie got eliminated ... i'd cry.)
plus, if MK does get eliminated next episode we'll have more MKulia content in EP9 without a doubt. there's still so many questions left unanswered and i'm sure those will be resolved before MK goes home. and honestly, i have high hopes. i think MKulia will end off on a sweet note. do i think we'll get canon MKulia? absolutely not. it'd be really nice, but i doubt it. at best, it'll probably be up to viewers interpretation whether or not julia's care for MK comes from a romantic or platonic standpoint. i think that's how far we're going to get. calling it queer bait is a little bit of an exaggeration IMO, then again i am very picky with the fandoms i am in so i don't really know what it's like to ship something that is possibly queerbait. we just gotta buckle up and endure whatever BS will get thrown at us MKulia nation. o7
and hopefully i am very wrong about this. i have extremely low expectations so i can be happy if im wrong LMFAO!!
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Non-human SSO designs dump
Welp--- Today I drew the umm... how I imagine the aliens and extradimensional beings in SSO :> Or I mean... disclaimer xD i CAN'T stress enough how much more i would like to know about the Dark Riders to draw their designs properly IF THEY'RE ALIENS TwT like are they even the same type of alien?? No clue alright--- so i decided to picture how i feel it ^^ i'll make notes to it accordingly--- *cough cough* tada!
Now I know what you're thinking, it's a bit empty, it's a bit muddled because of how small it is--- which is because i made the canvas with the intention to compare the size to something else---
My design opinion for a long time about Garnok was that he is too fleshy of an alien--- if Aideen brought life to Jorvik, she's the embodiment of it... so i decided to redesign Garnok into something really "out of this world"--- a 2D puddle of shapes in a 3D environment :> His generals kind of mimic that design like... they look like their human selves but if you were to put them in a similar environment as Garnok is in, they would start to dematerialise too :D I also noted in the dark riders post that i didn't like that Garnok is so pink (since--- Aideen's magic is also coded in pink so unless they wind up to be the same entity or something like Marika and Radagon and i am making a fool of myself here xD) so i added a bit more colour to him--- like i think it might be that the shapes are starting to catch pink due to Pandorian energy xD
Oh and speaking of Pandoria...
Since Ydris is really the only pandorian we know to date (except for Zee but i couldn't land on good shapes for her ^^) i kinda had to jur reverse engineer this design. Like we know pandorian's have masks and the only creatures we've seen in pandoria were shadow-seekers and those cliché manta rays--- so i added a bit of both to my design... I think i'll be using this as my default for designing pandorians in the future (i have an OC, wink wink, nudge nudge ;3) It is very likely bro will just be a masked humanoid in pandoria, but i really like to think of Pandorians as beings UNRESTRICTED BY SHAPE OR FORM and such xD
I would really love to do something more with these designs i had in my head for a while but erm... this will have to do for now ^^"
I'd love to hear opinions of these--- are they good? are they bad? are they ugly? xD And what's your take on the creature design for them? Idk, i have read neither of the books so... i'd love to hear the take of someone who has and has some inside info on this 👀
#sso#star stable#starstable online#dark riders#sso garnok#pandoria#ssoblr#design dump#creature design#long post
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If the reboot seasons keep going with the early merges, coaster strategies like Millie’s or to an extent MK’s are gonna be really viable. Not winning challenges puts you in danger on a team, but pre-merge there’s usually at least one asshole everyone hates who can be a target instead. Fly under the radar, be nice to your team, and look like you’re doing your best even when throwing. Post-merge, it can be really viable to throw challenges because competitors who win a lot of competitions like Julia, Priya, and Caleb will be targeting each other due to their obvious threat level.
Coasting doesn’t necessarily mean a boring strategy. What it means in TD is usually letting an ally carry you to the end because they think they can beat you and then stabbing them in the back at the last minute.
I think the most viable winner of a potential season 3 under this idea is probably MK. She has Julia by her side who basically has a neon sign above her at all times saying “I’M A HUGE COMPETITIVE THREAT AND ALSO THE WORST! VOTE ME OUT!” and because MK so rarely wins anything, people aren’t likely to think voting out MK will undercut Julia’s game in any meaningful way. As long as Julia doesn’t backstab her again—which to be fair she definitely would do—she’s good in that department. The only issue here is that MK doesn’t throw competitions, she just sucks at anything physical (affectionate). So if she and basically anyone were in a final 2 I’m not super confident she could actually win unless she cheated somehow or just got lucky with a more mental competition. Maybe against Millie who’s not great at challenges or Zee who she could probably deceive into losing.
Speaking of Zee, he’s also a great coaster. Everyone except Julia and MK like him and those two only like each other (🏳️🌈). He has an ally or potential ally in basically everyone else. His social game is for the most part really strong. However, when he was eliminated in both s1 and s2 it was because everyone was mad at him for doing something stupid. In s1 it was probably just to take him out in a silly way because he’s mostly a gag character, but in s2 it was because he let slip the insane number of secrets he has on EVERYONE. People either tell him everything and anything on their mind or don’t realize he’s eavesdropping. Either way, it’s very promising. If he’s more strategic in the future and doesn’t blow up his game by spilling secrets in front of everyone and instead uses them to his advantage, he has good win potential. He’s also not terrible at challenges, and has a good showing in a majority of them. The catapult challenge definitely proves that he can excel in challenges even better than Julia when he needs to.
So yeah, those are my season 3 winner picks. I’d also be very happy with a Julia win without a redemption arc. She’s gay and horrible and wins.
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Part 9: Like a Muzzled Hound
First | Previous | Next
Zatanna has been dead silent for approximately 7 minutes and 40-some seconds since casting a spell allowing her to see Spooky. That’s almost half as long as it took him to convince her that Spooky was here with Jason and not in the cemetery.
Jason decides to give her another full minute before poking her in the shoulder with the end of a training staff.
“Told ya they were here,” he says casually.
“That…This isn’t…they’re not a…” She takes a breath seeming to fortify herself for something. “This is not one of The Black Dogs.” She doesn’t let her gaze stray from Spooky, she barely even blinks her staring is so intense.
“Ooo-kay…” Jason drawls slowly, “so what are they?” Spooky for their part watches Zatanna with half curiosity and half wariness. They seem to be taking their cues from Jason himself. He keeps himself purposefully relaxed just in case that is what is going on.
A strangled noise erupts from Zatanna as she chokes on whatever she’s trying to express. She waves her hand at the comatose spirit.
“I, Ive never…it shouldn’t be possible. Astral Projection is only something for living beings and those like demons and some such.”
“Zee, I’m gonna need a little more info than that,” Jason sighs.
She gestures vaguely in the direction of Spooky and the Spirit (heh, sounds like a shitty band name).
“Your friend here. Spooky?” Jason nods. “Yeah, well Spooky here is an astral projection of the soul of our friend from the coffin. It shouldn’t be possible, a projection of a soul’s manifestation. The form of the spirits of the Infinite Realms should already match what they see themselves as.”
That explains a lot. Especially why Spooky was so desperate to get Jason to dig up that coffin. But that begs another question.
“Why aren’t they back in their regular body and moving around?”
Zatanna worries her lip with her teeth and her thoughtful gaze lands to rest on Spooky.
“You can understand me, right?” Spooky perks up and slowly nods their head without breaking eye contact with the magician.
“Did you have astral projection abilities before you were put in that abomination of a spirit trap?”
Spooky shakes their head no.
“So it’s a new ability…” she says, thinking aloud. “And you were trapped, so there was no reason to wake up… Does it feel like it’s been a long time since you were buried?”
They nod this time, their gaze never leaving Zatanna.
“You don’t know how to go back, do you…”
Spooky nods even though her question sounded more like a statement.
Jason stands straighter and eyes Spooky in a odd sort of calculating way. “Wait…you’re just stuck outside your own body?”
Spooky for their part sort of shuffles in place and doesn’t quite nod or shake their head.
“I’m starting to think Marvel’s theory about hybrids is right,” Zatanna muses under her breath. Her gaze shifts from Spooky to the body on the table and back again.
Finally deciding to break the tense silence, Jason asks, “so, what do we do from here?”
Zatanna has the audacity to shrug (no, it’s not infuriating, just…mildly annoying).
“It’s not a matter of energy levels,” she says thoughtfully. “Spooky here has enough power to awaken and unless there’s some curse or something keeping them down, the only other explanation is that they need time to figure out how to stay within and wake up in their own body.”
Jason eyes her blankly. “A helpful explanation, but that doesn’t answer my question.”
“Yeah yeah, I’m getting there.” She waves him off. “Just staying here should be fine. They’ve clearly developed an attachment to you. It’s just a matter of getting a handle on their new ability. Right Spooky?” She turns to face the shadow dog.
They nod again, their eyes sparkling with determination as they shuffle closer to Jason’s side.
Those radioactive neon green eyes should not be able to look as pitiful as they do right now. Jason can’t help but soften under the hopeful gaze of the spectral dog…or, well spirit? Apparition?
Whatever Spooky may be, it doesn’t much matter to Jason. They’re someone/something that needs help. Besides, something about them is familiar and oddly comforting.
~*~
Jason is pretty sure that Spooky would follow him on his whole route if they could. As it is, they follow him as far as they can go and meet up with him as soon as he is within range again. Zatanna said it’s because they’re tied to their corporeal form. At least that’s what Jason got out of her long winded ramble about how Spooky’s ability “shouldn’t be possible for a spirit” and how, “nothing makes sense Jason.”
He’s startled out of his thoughts by something wet nudging his hand. Spooky is watching Jason carefully as they put first one front foot and then the other on the couch next to him. It takes him a moment to realize that they’re asking his permission.
“Go ahead,” he replies softly. He reads the relief in Spooky’s eyes as they complete their climb onto the seat next to him.
It’s weird how the cushions don’t dip or show any signs of Spooky sitting on them. He understands that they can’t interact with the world, but it’s easy to forget when he’s death adjacent enough to be one of the things Spooky can actually interact with. Their head in his lap is real and tangible, his fingers tangling in the long black fur that’s so soft and silky to the touch.
Jason has a tablet propped up against an ammo box on the coffee table with a cheesy romcom movie playing. It’s more for ambient noise than to watch since Jason is so far in his own head. The female lead is tackling some big DIY bed and breakfast house renovation. There’s a goat that keeps scaring her and every time that happens, Spooky huffs in what Jason imagines is the ghost-dog version of an amused snort.
A nudge against his hand has Jason noticing that he stopped petting Spooky. They wriggle their nose under his hand.
Jason chuckles, resuming with gentle strokes.
Spooky’s gaze finds his and there’s something there…he can’t quite pinpoint what it is but suddenly he’s all too aware that Spooky’s true body and form is on the table, half way across the room. He’s all too aware of how humanoid Spooky is, despite their actions being something an attention seeking dog would do.
The feeling washes over Jason with an eerie chill.
Spooky’s sneeze fractures the moment. All that’s left is Jason, the ghost dog, and the body on the table.
And wow doesn’t that sound like the start of a bad joke?
Jason returns his attention to the cheesy romcom and running his fingers through Spooky’s long silky fur.
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Oh hey. Hello there, I am alive. Kinda fell off the mental health bandwagon. Not that I was exactly sitting’ pretty there to begin with. Anywho, I’m still around and I’m still writing. Depression might be kicking my ass seven ways to Sunday but I’m not gonna let that stop me. I’m just slow(lie); been reading instead of writing and bc I haven’t been reading Dc, Dp, or dcxdp I forget I have this. But I’m drafting chaps in my notes now instead of on here so that should help me. No guarantees on when I’ll update but if I think of extra content or if anyone has any questions, feel free to ask away, either in the comments or in my asks, I’ll try to post more in between stuff. The romcom referenced here is called Falling Inn Love (It's on Netflix). Super cheesy and troped up to the gills but entertaining and not completely unbearable.
[Tag List] @emergentpanda-blog @my-perfect-storybook-love @gunebugfic @thegatorsgoose @thewondersoflebanon @bobred18 @d4ydr34min9 @ver-444 @redafi @echoednonny @greenmuffinofdoom @mentalcarebear @fisticuffsatapplebees @vythika96 @writer-extraodinaire @meira-3919 @yjfk @oddlydrawnpuppets @crystalqueertea @lazy-bouqet @darkthunder1589 @mnemovoid @keimiwolf @aarinisreading @love-has-no-labels @terzatheunderscorerima @idkmrpianoman @mur-ururu @chip-thief @kawaiikenna
@rangerhorsetug @treepainting @thatonegirl10 @demiourgias @spooky-fm @antagonisticly @fluffy23sblog @manglethemingle @kyrianclawraith @layyeschips @shepardking @asphyxia778 @ballzfrog @fluffen-spooky @drowningroane @deathsdaisy @malaayna @mistyaltair @potatoeofwisdom @heartsong18 @nixthenerd @icedbluesoul @the-church-grimm @overtherose @sara0055 @banishedthumbs @tired-yet-awaken
@dannyphantomphan @nonbinary-disaster @depressed-bitchy-demon @8-29pm @addie-lover-of-stories @lifefilledwithstories @apointlessbox @skulld3mort-1fan @katgirl05 @spookytragedyshark @mandyne-1001 @ascetic-orange @booklover9114 @qualifiedpasta @mouzerequis @fleeting-mists @gin2212 @rollthatcritical @kaitouhime @itsloveleo @litlecameron @phantom-dc @hippityhoppity-iownyourbones @pastalavistamf @kokoroluna @legowerewolf @riasthelustful @agreatcheesecakestudentstuff @mysterimax
@akintoabitch @snowblub @isaactheautobot @jaguarthecat @ventureingonwings
[its been a hot minute since i last posted so i'm sorry if I forgot to tag anyone]
#dp x dc#church grim danny au#the black dog danny#jason todd#dc x dp#danny phantom crossover#dc crossover
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Greetings, greetings! At the behest of my two very very good friends @cosmogone-spectacles and @peliginspeaks I have finally made my own sideblog for Flondon :) Do keep in mind I will likely be doing a lot of character work, for the most part, simply because I have been sitting on a lot of them for a long time now and I am simply too fond of them hehe.
My main account is @luckybird7765 and you can see my main Fallen London account here. Feel free to send a calling card!
Character introductions beneath the cut -
Primary Skills: Watchful; Monstrous Anatomy / Artisan of the Red Sciences / Disco̷̱̭͂̊̔̔͂̾̈͜ŗ̶͔̳̤̎͛̐̍̊̓̀̾̅ḑ̷̝̘̹͚͔̝̼̜̳͔̺͉̹͋̓̏͆͠a̷͈̹̟̘̥͈͙̠̞̫̪͘ņ̵̧̢̥͈̞̼̮̭̺̳̹̜̘̀̐͗̃̉̄͂̎́̆̉̇̕͝͝c̴͔̣̜̫̭̠̿͒̇è̸̢̓̿̽
Captain Reginald 'Ren' Haarsink, 36 (though who can say when the year never marches forward), a longtime academic in the corresponding arts (specifically speaking, the interactions between correspondence and forms of zee life, but he has branched into its medical uses too) is one of those stranger looking fellows, more eagerly described as a 'creature' by most not used to the Neath's wilder denizens. He cannot help but be immediately identifiable by the fins that he has (and, if you look even closer, gills as well!) in place of ears, and the scattering of scales upon his skin. No drownie is he, he still appears hale and hearty as much as someone who lives in the Neath can be, but he doesn't really take kindly to the nosy questionings by London newcomers. They were attained in an accident at zee, nothing more.
Haarsink is generally quite a private individual, though he has a well established presence in the academic circles of the reality-altering labs at Benthic University, curiously absent presence in the Benthic University correspondence division despite being apparently quite accomplished credentials that nobody can verify. He is a near life-long Neath resident, having moved to London when he was around 5 years old with his mother, who had had him out of wedlock with a vagrant sailor and needed the freedom that a life in the Neath offered. As such, he is very rarely surprised anymore by what this world has to offer, though he has a very long list of things to dread and fear at his disposal.
He doesn't make friends easy, and doesn't exactly have much of a presence beyond his work in the laboratory that he does not own̶ ̴d̷o̵e̸s̶ ̷n̸o̵t̵ ̶o̷w̴n̵ ̷d̷n̵͎̞͌̈́̀ ̵͕͌͆d̶͕̎̕ǫ̵͖̈e̵̬̘̯̓͒s̷̬̗̹͐͛͑ ̷̳̝̕͝ņ̴͓̅͘͜o̷̤̿͊͂t̵͔̔ ̷̞͈͐ẁ̴͈̺̇̚n̷̩͕͛̑ ̸̳͕̈́̂͛d̴̼̓.
To those who know him, he has a loyalty far too fierce for mere words, and a streak of caring that goes beyond what any sane person would want. He also has the focus and stamina to push to get what he wants with his own two hands, no matter what.
He has committed crimes against reality itself. Parabola as a whole hates his guts (inasmuch as it can, it tries) for what he has done to it, leaving him with no Parabola-altered dreams, no reflection in a mirror that is not of him burning to death. The Dawn Machine would blast him to ash if it were able to reach him. His own lungs have twisted themselves inside out and stretched his throat in unlawful geometries for the blasphemies he has spoken with them.
He dreamed once that he could become a god in his own right. The worst part is that he nearly succeeded.
He is also my silly fish and my soggiest little meow meow. He lives in a big snail shell by the zee and his favorite food is ship biscuits. He absolutely refuses to wear a shirt unless strictly required (though whether that is because he hates the texture or if he is simply THAT proud of his chest tattoo is anyone's guess). He can contain multitudes, after all.
Not on speaking terms with one D. T. Oversol (@cosmogone-spectacles) , owing to some previously mentioned crimes against reality having been inflicted directly upon himself. Would be friendly with one Dola Hallowrove (@peliginspeaks), except the other crimes against reality were inflicted upon them as well, and that could get a little awkward to discuss.
(anyways. god knows i have far too much stuff on him at this point, it's actually quite a relief to be sharing it somewhere at last <3 )
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What happens if Lucifer calls MC when things are getting a little spicy? (Part Two)
Featuring: Belial, Seraphiel, Gabriel & Uriel x gn!Reader
Part One (Azra / Zee/ Karasu / Tenebris / Meta) can be found here.
NSFW // Content: Oral sex and fingering/penetration (Reader receiving). Orgasm delay/denial, marking, threesome, hints of D/S dynamics (dom!Gabriel, sub!Uriel and sub!Reader). Word count: 0.7k.
Belial: Gives zero fucks who's calling or why. If your D.D.D. is within reach, he rises from the bed with a frustrated huff and glares at the screen before answering. "What the hell do you want?" he asks in a clearly annoyed (but slightly breathless) tone. Not many demons would dare speak to the Avatar of Pride that way, but he should know better than to interrupt Belial's time with you. Doesn't he understand how precious it is? Lucifer's response is laced with his own incensed frustration, but Belial has more important things to worry about than Lucifer's ego or whatever reason he had for calling you. Belial drinks in the sight of you instead: he sits comfortably between your legs and keeps them spread apart while his free hand continues stroking you where his mouth was moments before. The mattress creaks lightly when your thighs shake and your hips squirm, and you resort to biting your lip to keep quiet as he coaxes you gently to the edge and leaves you there, delaying your pleasure and keeping it just out of reach. Lucifer's not interested in speaking to Belial - and judging by the faint noises in the background, he realizes he interrupted something he wants no part of - so he decides to call back later and hangs up. Belial's eyes glow bright with renewed excitement and he flashes his fangs at you with a smug little smile. He tosses the D.D.D. over his shoulder, giggling when it clatters noisily on the floor nearby, and shuffles forward so he can bend low and eagerly put his mouth to better use.
Seraphiel: Unless your D.D.D. is on the nightstand next to his bed when Lucifer calls, there's a good chance you missed it while you were preoccupied. Even if your phone was close by, it's possible you still wouldn't have heard it. Lucifer would understand if you left your phone on silent by accident, or perhaps it was charging in another room while you stepped away to run an errand. There are plenty of little fibs you can choose from to explain why you didn't answer when you normally would. He doesn't need to know that you couldn't hear his personalized ringtone over the sound of Seraphiel's headboard thudding against the wall with each deep, steady stroke as he fucked you into his mattress. You were incapable of focusing on anything else except the grunts and moans he muffled into the crook of your neck. One of his hands held your thigh in place against his hip, raising it higher to change the angle so he could push himself a little bit deeper, feel a little bit more of you. His thrusts grew desperate and you rolled your hips in time with his, and he smeared wet kisses against your neck and tugged your earlobe between his teeth while you urged him to go faster and deeper, to give you more and don't stop, I’m so close, please—!
Gabriel & Uriel: If Lucifer's poorly timed call irritates them, they don't show it. In fact, one of them hands you the D.D.D. from the bed stand nearby so you can answer. Lucifer rattles on about something you're positive he could've sent as a text message instead. You sigh softly, a noise Lucifer doesn't hear but your companions do, and you tilt your head to the side so Gabriel has better access as he continues kissing up and down the column of your throat. The mattress dips underneath Uriel's weight when he finishes undressing and kneels beside you. He pushes your legs apart and maneuvers himself between them while slightly-chapped lips suck a mark onto your neck. Gabriel murmurs something that you can't hear, but you can feel Uriel's answering hum of acknowledgement as he drags his mouth down the inside of your thigh. There's a gentle scrape of teeth against your collarbone and the sudden touch of a cool, slick finger slipping inside you, and you try desperately not to make a sound.
"Tell him you'll call back." The faint whisper ghosts along your jaw and teases you as Gabriel's mouth moves so close to where you want it to be. You have no idea if Lucifer heard him, and you’re quickly losing focus on what he’s trying to talk to you about. Instead, it’s Gabriel's softly-spoken command that repeats itself like a mantra inside your head as he presses his erection against your hip. Further down the bed, Uriel rests his head on your thigh while he preps you knuckle-deep with two fingers. You can't resist either of them anymore and with a rushed apology and goodbye, you end the call and let the device slip carelessly to the floor. Gabriel finally presses his mouth against yours, and you can feel his pleased smile as you trace the seam of his lips with your tongue.
Read More: OC Masterlist | Obey Me Masterlist
#my oc: belial#my oc: seraphiel#my oc: gabriel#my oc: uriel#obey me oc x reader#obey me oc#gn!reader#x reader
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Name/Title: Jonathin Doe the Waterlogged Detective
Pronouns: He/Him
Referred to as: Detective
Profession: Trickster (for now)
Closest to: Urchins
Ambition: Nemesis
Associated Stats: Watchful, Persuasive, Shapling Arts, Mithridacy
Associated Quirks: Daredevil, Steadfast, Ruthless
Destiny: Gleam
Personality: Generally kind unless you're one of maybe three people, here to help, and definitely human.
Background
A handful of decades ago zailors dumped a trunk full of contraband books (and plays and scrolls etc) into the zee. The books are long gone and destroyed but ideas and Words remain regardless, as is true with any book, but in the Neath....well. The Words are Alive aren't they? They, like anyone would, got restless in their trunk, and eventually all of the bottled up excitement and wanderlust burst the trunk open and empty and the Words left. How long they wandered the floor is anyone's guess, and it doesn't really matter anyway, but they picked up trash and bits and bobs on the way, the largest of which was an old diving suit. Finding, finally, a suitable vessel, they shed the accumulated trash, and became Jonathin Doe.
Only they weren't Jonathin Doe. Not yet.
It took years before they were named, long after they became a *he*. A singular. No longer Words but Being.
It wasn't until, in their rambling, they found shore. Where they were promptly arrested and panicked filling out the paperwork.
So now they're Doe.
And they're Words.
And they're Books.
But mostly they're that first thing.
It's too bad that no one told the Words that.
They think they're a man.
#shamelessly copied my backround from that ask where i explained him#my art#fallen london#fallen london oc#this was fun but it took a bit#yup#i wanted to do one of these for a while#thanks to esteemed excellency for giving me the template link#youre the goat
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