#obscure flirting tag

[slytherinslut0]

Why Not Both.

PAIRING: Mattheo Riddle x Reader x Theodore Nott

INFO: Lucius Malfoy, fueled by disdain for your family's wealth and competitive Pureblood status, makes an unwanted advance at a public event. Fortunately, two old friends from your Hogwarts days come to your rescue, and grateful for their intervention, you seek a meaningful way to express your thanks.

TAGS: 18+, THREESOME. complete filth. slight sexual aggression/unwanted touching, violence, an ungodly amount of flirting, SMUT, fingering, hickeys, drug use, mentions of blood, throat fucking, oral(mrec), piv, degradation kink, praise kink, italian!theo.

"Please, for the love of all things magical, conduct yourself appropriately tonight, figlia."

Hidden behind the obscurity of your tinted black sunglasses, you executed an eye roll so pronounced you half-expected your eyes to vanish into the depths of your skull. The subtle percussion of your tongue against the back of your teeth preceded the moment as you composed yourself enough to deliver a response.

"I already told you," you retorted, curtly. "I'll play nice if he does."

Your father reciprocated the eye roll, reclining back against the supple leather of the limousine seat with an irritated huff. His gaze lingered on you, a silent calculation etched across his face, contemplating what tempting offer might sway you into comportment. He knew that you were not going to make it out of this gathering alive if you let your attitude get the best of you.

"What's the price tag this time, hm?" He tutted, fingers deftly adjusting his tie while sharing an anxious glance with your mother, perched nervously beside him. "A new purse? Some shoes, perhaps? Or are we gunning for another car?"

Suppressing a smirk, you lowered your sunglasses down the bridge of your nose, casting a pointed gaze over their rim at him.

"Are you seriously resorting to bribery, padre?" The feigned disbelief laced your voice, but your mother's glare sliced through it like a knife--a silent command to hush, one you chose to disregard. Adjusting your glasses, you exhaled a theatrically exasperated sigh. "Your lack of faith in me is genuinely disheartening. I assure you nothing but the epitome of professionalism from me tonight."

"Stronzate," (bullshit) your father snapped back, his eyes smouldering with a frustration intense enough to sear through your facade, clearly fed up with your antics. "Last time you peddled that line, you ended up with Lucius Malfoy's hand around your throat during what was supposed to be an informal business dinner."

You scoffed, a smirk playing on your lips before you could restrain it. "Not my fault that lunatic can't handle the damn truth. Would you prefer I let him take advantage of you? Step on you like a fucking cockroach?"

"Listen to me," he shifted to the edge of the limousine seat, his elbows finding a perch on his knees, hands firmly clasped together. Leaning forward, his gaze locked onto yours, his serious demeanor demanding your full focus. "Just because we have money doesn't mean I will bail you out if you happen to land yourself behind bars tonight. Do not fuck with the Malfoy's, figlia, I mean it."

"You sound afraid of him," you fired back, your expression a stoic mask, unruffled. "I wonder how your esteemed associates would feel about that...one of the wealthiest Pureblood wizards...intimidated by a bleached blonde-"

"Enough," he exhaled, weariness tainting his tone as he implored, "For Merlin's sake, behave your age for once--just tell me what you want."

Pouring a measured amount of champagne, he lifted the glass to his lips, the subtle clink echoing a blend of frustration and reluctant acceptance in his gaze. You huffed, reaching into your purse and retrieving your lip gloss and flip-open mirror. As you leisurely applied it, your thoughts raced, contemplating what might rein you in.

"I want him to stop mentally undressing me in front of his wife," you declared bluntly. "It's just plain rude."

Tossing your lipgloss and mirror back into your purse, a ripple of annoyance traversed your father's features, his countenance ready to unleash a torrent of reprimands in Italian, ones you'd heard a countless number of times before. It didn't take much to get under your father's skin.

However, before the first word could escape, your mother intervened with a firm, "Cut that out, figlia--just answer the bloody question."

Her intervention carried the weight of both authority and exasperation, effectively halting the imminent linguistic storm your father was about to unleash. With another dramatic eye roll and a matching huff of irritation, you straightened out against the leather, flattening the fabric of your tight black dress out against your thighs.

"Fine," you ground out through clenched teeth. With your chin defiantly raised, your gaze flicked back and forth between your parents. "Bags. A new Fendi, a replacement for the Christian I lost, and another Prada."

Your father grumbled something discontented in Italian, the disappointment clearly etched across his features as he parted his lips to respond; his brows pinched so tight it looked painful--until your mother swiftly raised a calming hand, quelling the potential storm.

Turning her eyes to you, she wore a wry smile and declared, "Deal."

A devilish smirk played across your lips as you nodded in agreement, satisfaction colouring your calculated arrangements. Handbags were hardly a necessity, considering you already owned more than you knew what to do with--but, if your father was determined to buy your silence, to keep you from retaliating against the biggest assholes in the entire wizarding world, one of whom was intent on tearing down your family's name out of sheer jealousy--then the price wasn't going to come cheap.

As the limo glided to a stop outside the opulent venue, you composed yourself, aware that tonight meant facing a sea of influential figures. Pureblood wizards--from the Nott family to the Riddles, the Malfoys, and the Berkshires--were all gathered at this prestigious ball, amongst many others. You knew tonight carried immense importance for your family, and you harboured every intention of keeping your opinions in check, and keeping your mouth shut.

But you couldn't say the same about your legs.

Stepping gracefully from the limousine, the resonance of your red stilettos hitting the cobblestones beneath them echoed in sophistication. A subtle adjustment of your dress against your thighs preceded your purposeful stride toward the entrance. Cameras relentlessly flashed from all angles, rendering the protective shield of your sunglasses almost futile against their blinding onslaught.

Squinting, you ascended the velvet stairs, only to feel a sizable hand rest on the small of your back, accompanied by a honey-like drawl in your ear.

"Easy there, Bella...we wouldn't want that perfect ass meeting the cobbles, now would we?"

You scoffed, your smirk undeniable. Turning your head, you caught a glimpse of the charming Italian boy you hadn't seen since graduation. The desire to fling yourself into his arms simmered within, yet you reserved such greetings for the more private confines indoors.

"Gods, how I've missed that sexy voice of yours," you teased, a pleasant warmth enveloping you at the sight of him. Clad in a crisp black suit, his hair styled to perfection with light stubble grooming him nicely--he looked even better than your memory served. "Remind me to grant you a proper kiss once we're inside."

"Missed more than just the voice, I hope," he quipped, a smug grin playing on his lips. Adjusting his suit jacket with a casual flair, he leaned in, his voice a low murmur. "Inside or outside, Bella, I'm not one to decline such tempting offers."

"Believe me, I'm keenly aware," you retorted, a sly grin playing on your lips. "You never were good at resisting temptation."

"Can't resist the irresistible, principessa,"  he replied, his tone laden with a provocative confidence. "I'd take your ass right here if you asked."

"Aren't you as bold as ever," you quipped, a grin playing on your lips as you finally reached the grand double doors. Theo's hand reluctantly left your back as he positioned himself behind you, gently ushering you forward. "Perhaps you could at least buy me a drink first?"

He huffed. "Anything you want--it's yours, angioletta."

Theodore graced your ass with a subtle smack as the two of you glided into the grand ballroom, its excessive expanse pulsating with the energy of wizards and witches converging from every corner of the globe. The occasion? A celebration for the new Minister of Magic--a matter that scarcely held your interest. The real allure? A night to revel in intoxication and reconnect with the charming Slytherin boys you'd wanted to see since graduation.

And here you were, the night only just unfolding, already engaged in a provocative exchange with one of the men you'd been yearning for. His hand rested tantalizingly low on your back, skillfully guiding you through the bustling crowd.

You drew nearer to Theodore as the two of you continued weaving through the crowd, lowering your voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "My parents gave me strict orders to steer clear of the Malfoys tonight, specifically Lucius."

"Huh, can't say I'm shocked," Theo chuckled, his grin stretching across his cheeks. "After that little incident at the meeting, I'm surprised they're letting you share the same room with him."

"So you heard about that." A flush warmed your face as you peeked at him over the edge of your sunglasses. "Was I really that terrible?"

He cast you a sidelong glance, his eyes twinkling. "Let's just say, your mouth has a reputation for getting you into quite a bit of trouble."

"Maybe," you quipped, your gaze confidently drifting towards the bar across the room. "Then again, it's also been known for getting me out of a fair bit of trouble."

Theo slipped behind you as you navigated through a cluster of witches, their dazzling diamond necklaces almost blinding, even through your shades.

"Mm, I wouldn't doubt it," he husked, the audible smirk in his voice. "That mouth of yours has its own set of skills, Bella...some men just can't handle it."

"Well, lucky for me, I prefer those who can handle a little challenge," you purred, turning to shoot him a sultry glance over your shoulder. "I intend on staying far, far away from him tonight."

"As much as I want to take your word for that..." he replied with a sly grin, cocking an eyebrow. "We both know how you are."

As the two of you finally reached the bar, a dazzling array of diamond bottles adorned the shelves against the wall. The counter, a masterpiece of ornate gold foiling on a white marbled surface, beckoned with an air of opulence. Theodore leaned over it, flashing a cheeky grin at the bartender.

"Two glasses of Dom Pérignon champagne," he requested smoothly, the words gliding off his tongue like silk, "per favore e grazie."

"Dom Pérignon?" Your jaw fell open, and you drew your sunglasses down the bridge of your nose to look at him. That champagne was over three hundred dollars a fucking glass. "Are you trying to get me to fuck you, or fall in love with you?"

He choked, snorting at your bluntness. "Why not both?”

Your grin was untameable as Theo's laughter resonated through the bustling room. Collecting himself, he accepted the glasses from the bartender, presenting one to you with a deviously charming grin. His eyes sparkled with desire as they traced the curve of your lips, before falling to observe the way your red-manicured nails delicately wrapped around the crystal glass.

Shaking himself from his reverie, he met your gaze again, his smirk growing wider. "Not to burst my own bubble or anything...but if it weren't for my parents picking up the tab, we'd be toasting with sparkling cider."

A soft laugh escaped you at his cheeky admission, and you raised your glass to meet his with a playful clink. "To your parents' tab."

As you toasted, you couldn't help but savour the familiar charm that had always intrigued you about him. Despite the magnetic connection and your undeniable attraction, the boundary between friendship and something more had remained uncharted territory throughout your school years.

You had every single intention of changing that, tonight. 

As the liquid elegance glided down your throat, leaving behind a lingering warmth steeped in opulence, you held Theo's gaze as you lowered your glass, acutely aware that his eyes had yet to stray from yours. Taking a measured step closer, you tilted your head back slightly, maintaining the captivating connection as you closed the distance between your bodies.

"I believe there's still something I owe you, hm?" you purred, your voice a sultry whisper. "And perhaps...given the circumstances," you gestured to the expensive champagne in your hand, moistening your lips, "I might now owe you more."

Theo's response was a low, husky chuckle as his free hand found its place on your hip. His fingers pressed into your side with a possessive grip, while the hand clutching the glass tightened, threatening to shatter within his fingers.

Spurred on, you continued. "Unless, of course, we consider it a mere indulgence on your parents' generous tab...either way-"

"Oh no, no," he interrupted with a knowing tut, his gaze piercing through half-lidded eyes. "My parents appreciate repayment just as much as I do...consider me their collector."

"Mm," you breathed, red fingernails on your free hand trailing up his chest. "I suppose I better get to work, then, hm?"

His response was a low huff, a smouldering spark in his eyes. "Dio mi aiuti..."

A smirk played on your lips, a rush of heat colouring your face as his teasing plea to God sent a surge of desire through your thighs. Gliding your fingers higher up his chest, you seized his tie, drawing his mouth down to yours in a deliberate, unhurried kiss. With no sense of urgency, you explored his mouth, savouring the moment for all it was worth.

Until, abruptly, a curt voice sliced through the charged air, instantly extinguishing the flames that had been blazing between you and Theo. The sound made you want to vomit near instantly, the feigned niceness in its tone grating on your nerves like nails on a chalkboard. You knew there was only one fucking man a voice that sickening could ever belong to.

"Well, isn't that just adorable...young love in all its glory," he sneered, and as you and Theo reluctantly pulled away from each other, you released your grip on his tie, taking a measured step back. "...never thought you'd be able to find someone who would put up with that attitude of yours...colour me shocked. "

As your gaze met the tall, arrogant blonde man peering down at you, you bit your tongue hard enough to taste the metallic tang of blood. His eye twitched as he shamelessly scanned your body, tracing over every curve and inch of body that his evil gaze could find. You were grateful for your sunglasses now more than ever, as they perfectly concealed the intense eye roll you were directing at him.

And then, just as you were poised to respond, you caught sight of his son, Draco Malfoy, and his nephew, Mattheo Riddle, two more of your old housemates. Draco, accompanied by his wife, Astoria Greengrass, sauntered up beside his father. Each of their eyes widening in disbelief at the unexpected sight of you.

As Mattheo Riddle approached, clad in a crisp black suit and tie, his curly brown hair framing gleaming dark eyes and a strong jawline, your body ignited once more. The charm he exuded brought forth a desire you had worked extremely fucking hard to suppress during your school days, now resurfacing with an intensity that left you breathless.

"Holy shit," Mattheo breathed, moistening his lips as his dark eyes roamed over you from head to toe. He pulled you in for a hug, the smell of his cologne filling your nostrils and making your head spin without effort. Against your neck, he muttered. "Now that's a fucking sight for sore eyes."

Heat flooded your veins, spurred on by the sight of him and his compliment. You let your hand rub tender circles into his back, feeling the taut muscle tense beneath your touch.

"Flattery will get you everywhere, Riddle," you purred against his ear, your grin impossible to conceal, the warmth of his embrace intensifying the heat that flooded your veins. "I see your charm hasn't lost its touch...surprised you're not locked down yet."

"Never been more glad that I'm not," his hand slid lower, finding the small of your back, calloused palms catching on the fabric. "You're leaving very little to the imagination, wearing this..."

"Little something to fuel those late-night thoughts," you murmured, your voice a sensual drawl, heat rolling off your tongue, overflowing your veins. "Better enjoy the view while you can."

"Mm," his hand found your ass, giving it a harsh squeeze. "Don't doubt that I will."

As Mattheo finally pulled away, stepping over toward Theo and embracing him in a bro-hug, Lucius peered down at him in disgust. The atmosphere was filled with the low hum of conversation as Theo, Draco, and Astoria were deep in discussion.

Lucius was busy rambling on to Theodore's father, who had now also joined the group, seemingly oblivious to the tension simmering beneath the surface--but then abruptly shifted his attention to his nephew.

A wry huff of arrogance escaped him. "Do you possess any self-control?"

"Some, on a typical day," Mattheo replied, undisturbed, and with his gaze drifting back to you, he smirked. "Currently, almost none.”

"Right." Lucius' voice was flat, devoid of any emotion as he turned back to you. "Where are your parents? I've been needing to discuss some things with your father."

"They're around," you replied flatly, taking another sip of champagne, determined to deflect his probing. "I'm sure you'll run into them eventually; no one would ever dare ignore you, Lucius."

"A compliment from you? How peculiar." Lucius tilted his head slightly, a malicious glint in his eyes. "Similar to your father's recent behaviour...I must say he has been raising a few eyebrows lately."

"And how is that any concern of mine?" you retorted, your tone laced with partially-restrained irritation. "I don't keep tabs on my father's every move. Perhaps you should address him directly with your concerns."

"Perhaps." He smirked, his gaze lingering on you as he stepped closer--Theo, Mattheo, Astoria and Draco lost in their own conversation now. "But I believe you're easier to talk to, more...amenable."

Your eyes narrowed at his implication, but you maintained a stoic exterior. "I have no interest in entertaining conversation with you."

As he closed the distance, his gaze briefly shifted to the boys beside you, ensuring they were sufficiently distracted before refocusing on you.

"You should," he murmured, an insidious charm lacing his words. "You should want to hear what I have to say."

"Your arrogance is outstanding." Through gritted teeth, you practically snarled at him, "Get to the point."

"Your father has been dabbling in rather dubious dealings of late. It reflects poorly on me and those associated with him." Lucius leaned in closer, his voice a low murmur filled with calculated venom. "If something doesn't change, I'm going to have to take matters into my own hands."

"I try my best to stay out of my father's business," your pulse quickened, a surge of anger coursing through your veins, the air around you growing tenser with each passing second. "But, if I'm being honest, Lucius, I don't appreciate the way you're running your mouth. My parents-"

"Ah, ah," he raised a hand, silencing you. "You'd do well to remember your place, little witch." Lucius's eyes glinted with a sadistic satisfaction, and a smirk played on his lips. "Though I do suggest you start caring about your father's affairs; it might save you from the consequences of his foolish actions."

"I never asked for your advice," you hissed, the thread of restraint in your voice now frayed. "But if we're trading favours, I suggest you leave me the fuck alone before this gets ugly."

Lucius eradicated the remaining space between you, his imposing presence sending a shiver down your spine, the strong scent of whiskey enveloping you. Your gaze remained locked with his, refusing to yield, but as he leaned in, your body tensed. His lips brushed your ear, and you swallowed, fighting the discomfort.

"Women shouldn't curse, little witch, it isn't very ladylike..." he sneered, his voice dripping with vindictive amusement, the words crawling over your skin. "Perhaps your parents failed to teach you that? Amongst other things, it seems..."

You fought the urge to retch. "Get fucked, Lucius."

He huffed, his touch ghosting your hip as he muttered, "I just might."

The moment you felt his fingers graze your body, your hand rose instinctively, before you even had a chance to process it--delivering a swift slap to his cheek, making his head whip to the side, blonde locks flinging upon impact. A moment of tense silence hung in the air as you watched the anger seep into his features, witnessing his eyes darken with fury. Mimicking a move he'd pulled on you before, he seized your jaw, forcing your back against the edge of the bar.

But then, before he could utter a word, the scene unfolded like a rapid, chaotic dance. Strong hands forcefully grappled his shoulders, ripping him away from you within an instant.

"Keep your fucking hands off of her." It was Theodore's voice. Followed instantly by Mattheo's. "The fuck is wrong with you."

In the blink of an eye, Theodore was in action, hooking his arms around Lucius to restrain him, while Mattheo, fueled by raw anger, threw a powerful punch that landed square on Lucius' jaw. The room buzzed with gasps and whispers, the unexpected altercation taking center stage in the glamorous event.

Your stomach fell dramatically. There goes the handbags you'd bargained for.

As Lucius seethed with fury, he forcibly pulled himself out of Theodore's grasp, retaliating by landing a punch on his nephew. The impact split the skin over the bridge of Mattheo's nose, but undeterred, Mattheo swiftly retaliated with another punch, forcing Draco to step in and restrain him.

Sensing the escalating tension, you rushed forward, attempting to break up the skirmish. However, Draco hissed at you, his arm darting out to halt you, eyes narrowing in warning, "Just get out of here. You've done enough damage."

"Are you kidding me?" you snapped back, the clink of your glass punctuating your frustration as you discarded it on the bar. "You've always been a sickening little daddy's boy--wake the fuck up, Draco. Your father is an absolute asshole."

Before Draco could respond, the voices of your parents, entwined with Mattheo and Theodore's parents, resonated through the room, silencing and halting every single one of your collective movements. Your father unleashed a barrage of reprimands in Italian, while your mother shook her head in utter disappointment. She gripped your arm with enough force to make you groan.

Her words were no less than a snarl in your ear. "You had one fucking job tonight. One."

"I didn't do anything--he started it," your heart pounded, vision tinged with red as you spat back, uninterested in the ridicule. "He fucking touched me."

Lucius, now somewhat composed, turned to the security guards standing amidst the commotion and pointed decisively at you, Theodore, and Mattheo, his stern tone leaving no room for negotiation. "I want them removed. Immediately."

Your mother's grip on your arm loosened, her voice now softer as she said, "We'll talk about this later."

The security guards seized you, Mattheo, and Theodore by the arms, forcefully guiding you away from the group. Under the intense scrutiny of Lucius' gaze, you were pushed through the concealed back exit, leading to a row of valet cars waiting in the shadows. The door slammed shut behind you, leaving the chilly night air to greet you as the security guards swiftly retreated back into the vibrant chaos of the celebration, leaving you, Mattheo, and Theodore standing alone in the dimly lit alley.

Without missing a beat, Mattheo smoothly extracted a small container from his pocket, revealing a blunt that he quickly found a comfortable spot for between his teeth.

An irritated huff escaped you as you yanked off your sunglasses, shoving them into your purse. "What an insufferable prick."

The night air became tinged with the scent of both smoke and potent weed as Mattheo exhaled, Theodore hastily loosening his tie around his neck as Mattheo passed him the herbal offering.

"He's got his eyes set on you," Mattheo stated matter-of-factly, the words casually hanging in the air as if discussing the weather. "Not exactly discreet about it either, especially when his wife's not around."

As Theodore passed the blunt to you, you took a long, slow drag--the bitter taste of the weed lingering on your tongue as you mulled over Mattheo's words.

"He’s just looking for another thing to hang over my father's head." A sardonic smirk curled your lips, and you passed the weed back to Theo. "I'm not interested in anything he has to offer...there’s nothing he can give me that I can’t get myself.”

Theo smirked, the dim light casting shadows across his features as he took another drag of the blunt.

“I'll have to admit, it was quite the sight watching you slap Lucius bloody Malfoy..." he purred, smoke twirling around him as he paused, passing it back to Mattheo now. "Not many would dare."

“Well, he had it coming,” you chuckled, the tension of the evening dissipating slightly. “...I'm not one to back down."

"Oh, we know." Mattheo laughed, smoke escaping between his lips, wiping the blood off his chin with the back of his hand. "Your bad ass is always stirring up trouble, don't think that'll ever change."

You smirked, the corner of your lips curling with a hint of mischief. "What's life without a little trouble, hm?"

Theo chuckled, practically a scoff. “A little?"

"Please," you teasingly nipped at your bottom lip, head tilting in a seductive manner. "You know you love it."

Stepping closer to them, you sensually reached out, your fingers making deliberate contact with the fabric of their suit jackets, covering the strength of their strong arms. Moving slowly and deliberately, your touch trailed upward, both of their eyes locked onto every nuanced movement, captivated by your enticing grace.

"I believe I owe you both a special thanks for coming to my defense back there...my heroes." Your voice dipped lower, a sultry edge creeping in as you trailed your fingers upward, grazing their shoulders. "How could I ever repay you for such...courageous acts..."

"Sexy little damsel in distress…" Mattheo smirked, the blunt dangling from his lips as he leaned in, eyes dipping over your lips before falling lower, tracing your curves. "I can think of a few ways you could show your appreciation.”

Theo's grin mirrored Mattheo's as he added, "I think we'll have to discuss those options somewhere more private...back at my place, perhaps?"

"Mm," your stomach leapt with excitement, your stomach tightening in anticipation, you slowly withdrew your hands, stepping back. "Lead the way, boys."

Without needing to hear another word, Mattheo and Theo exchanged a knowing glance before they began to move toward the valeted cars, Mattheo's eyes scanning the line until they landed on a sparkling blacked-out Range Rover. Discarding the blunt with a casual flick, he turned back to you, a smirk playing on his lips.

The night air shimmered around Mattheo's dark pools as he confidently asserted, "We can take my car."

A casual wave set the valet into motion, retrieving his vehicle for him within an instant. The driver expertly guided the sleek black Range Rover to the forefront, its glossy paint reflecting the ambient lights. Mattheo opened the back door with a flourish, gracefully sliding in and making himself comfortable on the far side. A sly grin danced on his lips as he gestured for you to join him.

"After you," Theo's purr accompanied a playful smack to your ass, forcing a slight squeak from your throat, and you tsked at him before obliging.

As you settled into the lavish embrace of the Range Rover's spacious backseat, Theodore smoothly slipped in next to you, closing the door behind him. The interior exuded opulence, the cold leather meeting the warmth of your thighs. Mattheo leaned forward, parting the partition to share Theodore's address with the driver, his cologne enveloping you in an intoxicating embrace.

The air crackled with anticipation as he ended the conversation and slid the partition shut, reclining back against the seat with a provocative spread of his legs. Loosening his tie, he extracted a small bag from his pocket, revealing a white powdery substance within its confines.

"Fuck sakes," he grumbled, catching Theodore's attention. You both met his eyes. "Any chance you've got a mirror in that purse?"

"Who needs one when you've got her?" Theo huffed, snaking an arm around your waist, pulling you snug against his chest. His lips hovered over your ear, and he added, "She's got more than enough to work with, hm?"

As Theo's lips brushed your earlobe, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine, you couldn't ignore the electrifying sensation that danced across your skin. Mattheo's intense gaze fixed on you, adding to the palpable tension in the air as he waited, seemingly holding his breath for your response.

"Mm." Your voice came in a breathless, shuddering whisper, "go on then, Riddle."

Mattheo's eyes darkened with a mischievous glint as he inched closer. Unhesitatingly, he tapped a sprinkle of white powder delicately above the neckline of your dress, right on the edge of your chest. Theodore pulled you even closer against him as Mattheo leaned in, his head lowering to quickly sniff up the line of powder. A cascade of goosebumps erupted across your skin, and your back instinctively arched.

After he'd finished, lingering tingles traced along your skin, intensifying by the millions as Mattheo sensually licked up the remaining powder. His tongue danced against your skin, brushing the delicate tops of your breasts, provoking a series of deeper breaths from your lungs. Your thighs clenched involuntarily, all while Theodore chuckled softly into your ear.

Mattheo pulled up, his lips dangerously close to yours as he whispered. "You want some?"

When you shook your head, Mattheo shrugged, moving to pour more onto your chest--your heart racing as you watched him, eyes dark, jaw tensed. On instinct, you tugged your dress down a bit further, offering him better access. Arching your back into him, your breasts spilled out as you tugged the fabric a little too far, now nearly entirely revealed, nipples just barely covered by the black fabric. At the sight, Mattheo sucked in a sharp breath, jaw falling open.

"Fuck me," he murmured, his hand instinctively coming up to grope the one not covered in cocaine.

Theodore groaned against your ear, watching the entire show with just as much exasperation as Mattheo. His hold on your waist tightened, fingers digging into the fabric of your dress as through he was trying to tear it apart within his grasp.

"That's what you've been keeping from us...." Theo's voice rumbled with dark lust, the words almost tangible in the air as his lips grazed your skin. "…for all these fucking years."

The tender caress of Theo's lips on your neck elicited a soft whimper, matched by Mattheo burying his face in your chest, sniffing up the rest of the drugs, his fingers tightening their grip on your breast, kneading it with a primal urgency. Theo's initial gentle kisses on your neck evolved into hungry bites and passionate flicks of his tongue, sucking vibrant welts into your skin.

Your body wrestled with conflicting waves of sensation, not knowing which to focus on first--blood pooled beneath Theo's teeth as he broke the vessels and marked you violet, inspiring an electrifying surge between your legs, growing more desperate with each passing second. Each touch and graze intensified the sensitivity of your skin, leaving your mouth slightly agape, head tilted back, giving both men easier access.

Mattheo groaned into your chest, a primal sound echoing desire. His rough hands moved lower, finding the hem of your dress and sliding beneath it with urgency, hiking the fabric higher up along your thighs. Your legs willingly surrendered, drawn onto his lap as he pulled them there. His nails dug into your skin as he shifted his mouth higher up your neck, capturing the side opposite Theo, working his teeth along your pulse as he too began marking your skin, sucking purple possession marks to life.

A low, sensual moan escaped your parted lips, a delicious shudder rippling through your spine. As Theo pulled his lips from your skin, you turned your head toward him, drawn by an irresistible force. The moment your eyes locked, an electric charge sparked between you, and in an instant, his lips claimed yours--a blend of sweet champagne, the faint taste of cigarettes, and the lingering hint of weed creating an intoxicating mixture, dizzying your head even more than it already was.

Mattheo's grip tightened around your thigh, a deep, primal groan escaping him, reverberating against your neck. You gasped against Theo's mouth, your fingers moving to find Mattheo's big hand, squeezing him tightly, conveying a silent, unspoken urgency--inviting him to go higher.

Taking the invitation, Mattheo's fingers crawled upwards, pushing your dress further up your thighs until your thong was nearly visible. Theo's hands left your waist, curling around your stomach before moving higher, cupping your breasts and tightening his hold on them; palming and groping and squeezing as much of the supple flesh as he could.

As you whimpered into his mouth, he groaned in response, bucking his hips against you as his long fingers worked to tug them free, exposing your entire chest to the thick, heated air within the Rover.

"Fucking hell." Mattheo muttered, instantly stalling his movements, his plush lips glistening with saliva as his eyes hungrily took in everything you'd just exposed to him. "Now this is fuel for my late night thoughts..."

Lowering his face to your chest again, taking one of your nipples in his mouth without hesitation while Theo gently rolled the other one between his fingers, their collective movements causing you to whimper and squirm against them, eyes rolling back as they each panted against you; lips and hands and teeth claiming as much of your body as they could.

Mattheo's palm slipped higher, grazing your heat over the fabric of your panties, the pads of his first two fingers catching your clit through the thin layer--immediately causing your hips to buck toward his touch as he swirled his warm tongue around your nipple, sealing his lips around it, teeth giving it a gentle tug before he released it with a wet pop.

You moaned, entire body shuddering with need as Theo's teeth tugged on your bottom lip. Breaking the kiss, his mouth moved to press hot, moist kisses against your cheek before falling to your jawline and softly nipping at the ridge. You met Mattheo's gaze, his face flushed with lust, his eyes drilling into yours as he teased you, rough fingers ghosting over your slit, catching on the hem of your panties, watching every single subtle ministration of your face as he did.

"Please," you whispered, the desperation in your voice palpable. "Stop teasing me, Riddle."

"Eager little slut..." Mattheo huffed, amused, and you could feel Theo smirk against your skin, each of their grips hardening to iron. "Look at you...spoiled little rich girl--fuck...you need to be finger fucked in the back of my fucking Range, don't you?"

A guttural groan escaped you, your head falling back against Theo's shoulder. He huffed in your ear, and there was a shared satisfaction between the two of them as they reveled in the newfound ways they had you wrapped around their fingers, surrendering to them in ways you had never dreamed of before.

Mattheo exhaled, a visible effort to rein in his self-control, brushing his thumb against your clit, his free hand coming up to grip your jaw, redirecting your eyes back to his.

"You wanna make a mess all over my expensive fucking leather, huh?" His voice was torn, shredded, a snarl past his teeth. "Tell me."

Theo's hand inched lower, his teeth nipping at your earlobe, and you nodded, swallowing the knot of lust clogging your throat. "Yes-fuck-I do-please."

"Say it," he muttered, voice low, leaning closer to you as he brushed your clit again, sending a burst of electricity through your veins. "I want to hear you fucking beg for me."

Theo's hand found your thighs, slipping between them and pulling them further apart, his heavy breathing washing over your ear.

"Mattheo, fuck-please," you grumbled through a heavy breath, lungs hitching as he teased the band of your thong, slipping under and trailing down to your mound, pausing there. "Please stop being insufferable."

"Oh, Bella...wrong fucking answer..." Theo chuckled, nails biting into your thigh. "Try again."

You groaned, attempting to inch your pelvis forward, attempting to coax his hand further, but Mattheo was unyielding, instead choosing to shift his hold on your face, forcing your jaw apart with your thumb.

"Did you forget that we saved your pretty little ass back there, hm?" His thumb pressed on your tongue, eliciting a gag, his dark eyes taunting you, revelling in your vulnerability. "Drop the fucking attitude or I'll do it for you."

You nodded against his hand, tongue fighting him to no result. His fingers jabbed into your skin, craning your head back, forcing the back of your skull to rest against Theo's shoulder. He relieved your mouth of his thumb, quickly shifting his hand to your neck.

"Tell me you need it." He commanded, tightening his grip, partially obscuring your airway. "Tell me how bad you fucking want it."

"Please," you gasped, spit leaking from the side of your mouth. "I need it so bad, I need you to make me fucking cum-fuck-please..."

"Look at that...much better bambina..." Theo murmured against your ear, his warm breath inspiring a rush of heat to your cunt. "Who knew the spoiled little rich girl could beg."

You rolled your eyes, and Mattheo caught it, returning his thumb to your mouth while simultaneously rewarding your obedience. The pad of his finger drew slow circles around your clit, warmth flooding your body, your lids fluttering in relief. Your hands shifted, one clutching Theo's thigh and the other wrapping around Mattheo's shoulder, thrusting into his hair as Theo pulled your thighs further apart.

"Mm, you're already fucking dripping..." Mattheo growled, rubbing faster in response, sending shocks of pleasure through you, your hips bucking. "Filthy little bitch."

His words, accompanied by his movements, made you groan--and Mattheo huffed, craning your head back further. You were looking into the ceiling--not that it mattered. A haze of pleasure was clouding your vision, drool spilling from your mouth as he massaged your tongue with his thumb.

You felt Theo's fingers creep lower, tugging at the fabric of your panties before slipping under, slicking two of his slender digits in your wetness, teasing over your throbbing entrance. You mewled against Mattheo's thumb, causing him to retract it; and he shushed you with his mouth, capturing you in a slow, breathless kiss, long lashes fluttering shut as he increased the pace on your clit.

Theo's chest was rising and falling against your back as he slowly thrust two fingers into your wet cunt, provoking a restrained squeal as your entire body jerked in response, your cunt clamping hard around him. He growled against your ear, curling his fingers inside of you, scissoring you open as he began to pump them in and out.

"My fucking God, principessa..." Theo husked in your ear, his voice torn. "Such a tight little cunt...so fucking wet..."

As Mattheo pulled back, lips falling to attack your jawline, you were working hard to stifle your moans, spreading your legs wider, hips bucking toward their touch. Their movements were frantic and unyielding, as though they were trying to drive you toward orgasm as quickly as possible, your eyes rolling back and your chest reaching for oxygen it failed to find.

"You want to cum, don't you?" Mattheo muttered, his own voice cracking. You bobbed your head frantically, chewing on your lip hard enough to make it bleed. "Let's hear you say it, pretty little whore..."

"Please," you whispered, your voice shredded, trying your best to keep your voice down as Theo increased his pace, the slick sounds of his fingers pumping in and out of you filling the heated silence within the Range. "Please-please-please-"

"Please, what?" Theo husked, his voice breathless, driving his fingers deeper into your cunt.

"Let me cum," you pleaded, eyes squeezing shut, unable to stop the tightness coiling in your core, unable to slow your impending release. "Please, please let me cum."

"Mm," their response was a collective groan, Mattheo's lips trailing back up to find yours as he murmured against your lips. "Cum for us."

Theo grunted, working a third finger into your cunt, rolling his wrist, and Mattheo increased his pace, the two of them collectively dragging you over the edge--and without being able to control it, you wailed, hips bucking and walls pulsing as you came around their fingers, your ears ringing and your heart pounding as the results of their overwhelming, cumulative movements wracked through you, drowning you in a sea of pleasure.

"There we go..." Theo cooed against your pulse, the deep husk of his voice rolling through your body like thunder, your orgasm wracking every nerve, every cell. "I feel that little cunt squeezing me...fuck-I need to get inside you..."

"Oh Gods...oh fuck-" you whimpered, gasping and trying to catch your breath against Mattheo's mouth as the two of them continued to run their fingers along your slit, switching places as Theo brushed his first two fingers over your clit, and Mattheo thrust two of his own into your still sensitive cunt.

Your nails dug into Theo's thigh, the other gripping Mattheo's curls with force. "Fuck-oh...I can't--Theo-Matt...Gods-"

You broke open, moans flowing from your lips like water, unable to keep yourself quiet, unable to take the onslaught of pleasure that was encompassing you. Still sensitive, you were squirming, whining, whimpering into Mattheo's mouth, and they both shushed you, cooing softly as they increased the pace on your cunt.

Mattheo's free hand kneaded your tit, muttering against your lips. "Come on, little slut...you can take it..."

"We know how much you like to be spoiled, principessa..." Theo husked, lips pressed to your ear. "Don't pretend to be shy now...

You whimpered, squirming as you fought through your overstimulation, and this only seem to spur them on as Mattheo grunted before moving back to the side of your neck, hungry to consume any inch of your skin his eyes could catch.

With another groan, he latched on to you and sucked broken capillaries to existence, littering you with his possession. His hips rocked into the side of your thigh, the bulge between his legs becoming more insatiable with every passing second, electrifying the already unfathomable sensations sweltering inside you.

The atmosphere in the car was quickly changing, the two of them becoming far more aggressive, far less patient. You were flying, heart hammering in your chest, every single inch of your skin buzzing and shaking with pleasure. You knew it wouldn't be long before you broke again, your body screaming and begging for more.

"Such a pretty cunt..." Mattheo purred, curling his fingers inside you, jabbing you deep, rocking his wrist in ruthless rhythm. "You like that, little slut? You like letting us make you cum like this?"

"Yes-fuck-" the response was immediate, involuntary. "I love it-I fucking love it..."

"We wanted to do this years ago, bambina..." Theo purred, his voice like a soothing melody in your ear. "All those years in Slytherin...seeing that fat ass in the common room every fucking day..."

"Complete fucking torture." Mattheo added with a groan, the strain in his voice palpable. "I'm going to fuck the life out of this tight little cunt...fucking cum for me, slut."

You whined, your thighs quaking with the onset bursts of ecstasy, Theo moving his fingers over your clit in short, rough strokes--wetness seeping from between your legs and moistening the leather beneath them.

And as much as you tried to keep it together; to not crumble so fucking quickly, the two of them were too skilled, knowing your signs too well, and began to increase their paces, thrusting you deep under the surface of bliss once more--eyes lolling back as your body shivered in wake of your second orgasm.

"That's right." Theo purred, praise lining his lips. "Good girl... così buono.”

Gasping, you swallowed, noting the drool that had began trailing down your chin, and once you were squirming in sensitivity, they both pulled off--conveniently synchronized with the moment the vehicle's movements slowed, before finally coming to an abrupt stop. A discreet knock on the partition signaled your arrival at the destination.

As you readjusted your dress in an attempt to regain some form of decency, Theo popped open the door, gripping your hand and practically dragging you out of the car. Mattheo's palm lingered on your lower back, holding you steady and guiding you until you stood upright, each of them waiting until you'd regained some form of composure before moving. The two of them led you towards the villa, with Theo's firm grip wrapped around your wrist and Mattheo's hand planted securely on your lower back, your heels clacking off the stones with each step.

They ushered you into the opulent house, a stunning display of luxury that stole your breath. Mattheo swiftly took your purse, carelessly placing it on a polished bench by the entrance, shedding his jacket as he disappeared down a hall. Guided by Theo, you marveled at the plush furnishings and elegant decor as he led you toward the kitchen, his grip on your wrist tight enough to bruise.

The second you entered, the atmosphere shifted, the air becoming charged with anticipation as Theo's lips crashed onto yours once again, hungry and urgent and unyielding. He shoved your back against the marble counter, his hands gripping bunches of your dress and tugging it up your thighs, stomach, chest, before urging you to raise your hands--tugging it off and tossing it to the floor beside you.

His eyes widened, tongue darting out to wet his lips as he took in your exposed figure, inch by inch. "Oh mio Dio..."

A mischievous smirk played on your lips as you took hold of his tie, pulling him closer. Your lips collided passionately, and with a sense of urgency, your fingers worked swiftly to strip off his suit jacket and move toward his belt. The desire for release consumed you; you needed him now.

"Fuck, you're so hard..." you murmured against his lips as you'd undid the clasp and grazed your fingers over his throbbing length, wasting no time before tugging his pants down, revealing his black briefs. "Does this make us even?"

"Not quite, but it's a good start," he groaned, his words a breath past his teeth. "You one time inside that little pussy can settle a fucking three-hundred dollar debt?"

You huffed, biting back your smirk. "Only one way to find out."

In a swift, intense motion, Theo seized your hips, spinning you around and forcefully pushing you against the cool kitchen counter. Your breath hitched as he pressed his body against yours, hard cock grinding against your ass as his hands deftly hooked around the band of your panties, smoothly sliding them down your trembling thighs.

As soon as the fabric hit the floor, he groaned, knocking your legs further apart with his knee. His rough palm caressed the curve of your ass, before following it with a sharp spank, making you yelp, jolting forward as pleasured pain rang out over your skin.

Instinctively, you clenched, and from the border of your vision you noticed movement--Mattheo joining back in from where ever the fuck he'd ran off to, his tie removed and the first of his buttons undone.

Bringing himself to the side of the counter opposite you, his eyes traced your form, bent over, breasts pressed against the cool marble, Theodore looming behind you as he began to tug down his boxers, his thick length springing free in relief; tip glistening. The part of the counter you were bent over was not very wide, giving Mattheo the perfect position to loom in front of you, entangling his hands in your hair as he leant down, softly pressing his lips to yours.

"You want this, puttana?" Theodore cooed, teasing your cunt with false thrusts as he slicked himself along your slit, palm caressing the burning flesh of your ass. Before you could even think to respond, he spanked you once more, your flesh quaking from his power as you whimpered into Mattheo's mouth. "You want to take this cock like a good little slut?"

Mattheo pulled back, allowing you the ability to speak--his dark eyes boring into yours as he murmured. "Answer him."

You swallowed, yelping as Theo whacked you again. "Yes! I want to..."

"What to, what?" Mattheo purred, the sadistic nature of his voice drawing heat from your veins. One free hand shifting to palm his crotch.

“I want to take your cock..." you groaned, and Mattheo cocked an eyebrow, a silent gesture telling you to finish the sentence. "...like a good little slut."

"There we go..." Mattheo murmured, leaning in to kiss you again. "Such a good girl."

"Mm-so fucking wet," Theo groaned, teasing you with the head of his cock. "Shit..."

With his hand on your hip, he plunged into your warm, wet cunt, choking on his breath as you whined and pulsed around him, enveloping him to the base. Fuck--he was big--his thick girth stretching you open, the sweet sting causing you to moan helplessly into Mattheo's mouth.

"Fuck..." Theo cursed under his breath, hissing your name as you clenched around his length, head slamming into your cervix with the very first thrust. “Porca puttana…you're so tight..."

Mattheo pulled back, straightening out and smirking down at you as he fumbled with his belt, undoing the latch before pulling out his throbbing length, your stomach instantly doing a cartwheel at the sight of it. He was just as big as Theo, and equally as fucking needy--cock pulsing as he wrapped his fist around it, pumping himself a few times as he eyed your body--took in the sight of his best friend fucking you against his kitchen counter.

And then, Mattheo's hand resumed its place in your hair, yanking your head back as he directed your eyes to meet his. He leaned in slightly, dark gaze burning wounds into your skin. "Open that filthy mouth...stick out your tongue."

Moans were flying from your lips as Theo quickened his pace, pulling out and slamming back in, pinching your hips between his fingers, cursing under his breath in Italian. Through the haze of pleasure, you obeyed Mattheo's command, jaw dropping open before sticking out your tongue.

Mattheo leaned in, closer, and spat into your mouth. "You want to suck this cock?”

Your eyes rolled back, quickly losing yourself in the hurricane of pleasure Theo was providing you with, a deep growl leaving Mattheo's throat as he tightened his grip on your hair.

“Yes, please-“ you whimpered, scalp stinging. “Please let me suck your cock.”

With an approving groan, Mattheo moved closer, guiding his twitching length past your lips, using the hold on your hair to crank your head back, the angle allowing him a long, deep stroke into your mouth, and you groaned, gagging around him.

"Shh," Mattheo purred, head falling back, lids fluttering. "Relax your throat for me."

You choked, drooling and panting as he overwhelmed your throat--but he was so far gone, so encased in fogging fizzles of lust that he didn't even put anymore thought toward your struggles, his groans growing louder with every thrust.

"Fuck..." he breathed, tightening his fist in your hair, tugging the strands with force. "That's it," pushing further, he released a moan when your neck bulged, swelling with the invasion of his cock. "Choke on it, whore."

He snapped his hips, pushing deeper, and you gurgled against his dick, but it only caused him to increase his pace, adjusting your head back as he started fucking into your throat. Every thrust brought a noise from your mouth, and every noise he ignored, fingers scraping your skin as bliss overwhelmed his senses.

Your body was throbbing, desperately fighting off its third orgasm, tears stinging your eyes as Theo fucked you deep, stretching you wide, your wails being suffocated by Mattheo's thick cock, your body physically convulsing in overwhelming, toe-curling pleasure.

"She likes this," Theo breathed, his hand snaking under your hip, fingers connecting with your clit, and you wailed against Mattheo's cock, eyes rolling back in your skull as you drowned in pleasure. "…she likes being used like a piccola troia del cazzo.” (little fucking slut)

"Mhm," Mattheo breathed, voice hoarse with pleasure. "Yeah she fucking does."

Delight resonated at their words--you were so drunk on the euphoria of being fucked that you could only moan helplessly in agreement. You were close, your orgasm a quickly rising tide, ready to crash over you at any given moment. Your body was trembling, near convulsing, cunt clamping down around Theo, pushing him dangerously close to his own peak.

"Fuck-" Mattheo choked, lungs sputtering--Theo's fingers swirling your clit harsher, quicker. They were both close, you could tell. "Fucking pretty little mouth feels so good wrapped around me..."

As your eyes fluttered, dangerously close to reaching your own peak, both men stalled, pulling out abruptly. You almost wailed in protest, almost chewed them each out for abandoning you so fucking close to orgasm like that, until they moved, switching places as though it was a silent understanding, as though they communicated without you hearing it.

Theodore stepped around to your side of the counter, quickly fisting your hair and forcing your mouth to his cock. You whimpered, tasting your own juices on his thick length, but before you could even generate a thought in your head, Mattheo sank into your wet heat, sucking in air through his teeth as it swallowed his heavy, hard length.

"Fucking hell..." he groaned, hands sliding up your sides and finding your tits, cupping them as he began pummelling your cunt. "Fuck-this pussy was worth the wait...so fucking worth the wait..."

You howled in ecstasy, moaning and gagging simultaneously as Theodore fucked your throat with no mercy, thrusting in and out with an animalistic pace. Mattheo slid a hand down your stomach, trailing over the mound of your pussy, connecting with your clit and rubbing vigorous circles against it. The reaction was immediate--your whole body jolting and withering under each of their massive frames, your lungs gasping and panting for air.

"Fuck-you're squeezing me so hard-I'm gonna cum in this tight cunt..." Mattheo breathed, free hand giving your swollen ass cheek another harsh smack. "Fucking slut-shit..."

You whinged, your climax fast approaching, and Theo jerked your head further back, meeting your glossy eyes. "You want to cum, huh?" He muttered, fucking deep into your throat. "You want to fucking cum for us?"

You nodded, or tried to anyways, and Theo grinned, gracing your cheek with a playful smack. "Go on then."

Body obedient out of habit, you snapped, pleasure storming through your raw, shredded nerves, stripping them of any control they had left, legs twitching and lids squeezing shut while you screamed onto his dick. He cursed in satisfaction, his hands squeezing fistfuls of your hair while he held off his own peak, fucking into you until you began to struggle for breath, your lips and jaw going numb.

"Fuck me,” Mattheos voice was shredded, physically in pain, free hand whacking your ass. "She likes cumming on my fucking cock…sexy little bitch-fuck-“

Theo groaned, the sound doing unspeakable things to your body as Mattheo pulled his fingers off your clit and returned to clutch your hip. You knew they both were close, their movements turning erratic--Theo's chest sputtering with each breath until as you felt his hot cum shoot down the back of your throat, you mewled--swallowing every last drop.

You must have blacked out, you must have disconnected from your own body for a moment, because when you came to--all you knew was you could feel Mattheo's climax rupturing through him--you felt the violent fucking into your cervix, the hitching, stuttering of his hips, felt him silence himself against your back while he poured jets of cum into your cunt, felt him throbbing at the hilt as he stopped, wiping the sweat from his brow as he pulled out, tucking himself away.

The room was silent, and for a few moments you were paralyzed, focused on trying to bring breath back into your lungs, focused on trying to return your heart rate to a normal pace. At this point, you weren't sure what was intoxicating you anymore--wether it was the alcohol or the buzzing, overwhelming lust that was slowly fizzling off your skin--but you knew that you were spent, your body nothing more than a limp, exhausted, sweaty mass of flesh.

Mattheo gripped your arms, tugging you off the counter. Theo passed him his white dress shirt, and Mattheo aided you in slipping your arms inside before wrapping his arm around your waist--walking you over toward the couch, plopping down and lying back along its length. Theodore joined in, moving to your other side, the both of them nuzzling up against your exhausted body as the three of you worked to come down from your highs, worked to return your pulses back to a normal pace.

After a moment, once your head had stopped spinning, you flicked your gaze over the both of them, smirk teasing your lips. “Round two?”

#theodorenottsmut #theodore smut #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott smut #theodorenott #theodore nott #mattheosmut #mattheoriddle #mattheo smut #mattheo riddle smut #mattheo #draco malfoy smut #tom riddle smut #tomriddle smut #tomriddle x reader #theo nott x reader #theo nott smut #riddle smut #riddlesmut #lucius smut #lucius malfoy #harry potter #mattheo x you #mattheoxreader #mattheo riddle #tomriddlesmut #tom riddle #tom riddle x reader #draco smut

[angelltheninth]

Genshin men when they see you talking to someone and they think you're flirting with them? And just taking you where ever and fucking the brains out of you for it.

Oh? That doesn't really sound like a punishment now does it?

Pairing: Kaeya, Diluc, Itto, Childe, Pantalone, Dottore, Capitano, Zhongli x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, rough sex, jealousy, possessiveness, semi-public sex, being watched, sadism, face slapping, clit stimulation, name-calling, degradation, fingering, crying , marking, lots of cum, torn clothes

A/N: I need my brains thank you very much, I like them. But I also like...

Kaeya would pull you to the first empty room in the ship and push you over a crate, his face obscured by his hair as he tries to get a hold of his emotions. But the only thing he can do is to start grinding against your ass before he pulls your pants down and pushes the tip inside you, keeping one hand on your neck so you can't buck backwards to take the rest. You really haven't earned it, being so friendly with his men like that. If you keep that up they're gonna think that their Captain's woman is a slut. Is that what you want? Do you want to be a slut? If you do then you're only be his slut.

Diluc works like normal behind the bar until he notices a few regulars flirting with you. He pays it no mind, thinking that you'll shoo them away, but you just sit there glancing at him. Interesting. Either you want him to be your hero, or you're enjoying it. One one answer is the right one, and he is determined to find out which. He's quick to make up the excuse of checking inventory while he leads you to the back. His gloves are off the moment you're in there, rubbing your cunt through your pants. This needs to be quick because he has a tavern to run but rest assured once won't be enough. Stay behind the bar and take his fingers for the rest of the night, completely silent.

Itto never thought he'd see his girl being hit on so blatantly in front of him and see her not come running to his arms. He's a very nice guy but things like this make him over the edge into jealousy. First time for everything right? Not the first time that he's balls deep in your pussy in an alleyway though and it sure as hell won't be the last. What do you think it means when he marks you like this? When his claws leave marks on your ass as he's holding you up? When his cock spills cum all over your cunt, clit and stomach and goes back into your pussy for more. It means you belong to him.

Childe likes a little competition but not like this. This is one kind of competition he never wants to see. There's no way some random knight can take you away from him. He'll be humiliating him in a fight before he takes all that adrenaline and takes it out on you next. Think you're gonna get away scot free? Hell no. You'll end up with your legs pushed apart against the bed and with his cock ramming deep and hard and fast into your pussy until you learn that it belongs only to him. Are you his prize for victory? Maybe. Or maybe you're the victor and this was your plan all along, to rile him up so he fucked you senseless just like this.

Pantalone smiles at you when he sees you still talking to someone who's so blatantly been flirting with you? Did he fuck you too hard last night or are you just that stupid that you didn't realize that the man wanted you? Or is it that you don't notice when its not him who's doing the flirting? Regardless an apology is in order. Since you seemed so happy to talk so much earlier why not use your mouth for something much better. It looks so pretty when its around his big cock, smeared with pre and making cute whimpering sounds, begging for forgiveness which you need to earn.

Dottore will not tolerate this but he also won't be punishing just you. Nope. He will be tying that person up and make them watch as you get fucked. You like it to don't you? On display like this, your legs spread as your pussyhole takes thrust after thrust of his cock, clearly used to rougher treatment. Moan. Loud. Scream, yell, let the sorry bastard in front of you know that he will never have you like Dottore has you. You'll be on your hands and knees, hand pressed down as Dottore leans over to the tied up and tells him all about how good you feel, just for his cock.

Capitano doesn't hold back on his jealousy when he sees you indulging someone else's advances. How rude, how cruel of you to even give someone the illusion that they can have you. That wasn't funny in the slightest. If you think you can just flirt with someone like a slut then you will be treated like one. Was that... not your goal? Shame. And here he was ready to punish you. Ah, so you do want it. That's better. Show him then. Use your fingers and rub that little clit raw and look at how hard you're making him. Come crawling to him and beg to be fucked.

Zhongli leaves your clothes in shreds on the floor from anger and frustration at your actions. Fuck being slow, he needs to teach you who you belong to and he will do it now. Don't you know that dragons are possessive over their treasure? Then its time you learn just how possessive he can be. You already know he can go for hours. Well this time he's not stopping until every inch of your slutty body is bathed in his cum, so much of it that you won't be able to get the scent of him out for days after. See if any man will dare approach you when you're clearly Zhongli's beloved breeding bitch.

#genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #kaeya x reader #diluc x reader #itto x reader #childe x reader #dottore x reader #capitano x reader #zhongli x reader #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact headcanons #genshin impact smut #genshin imagines #genshin headcanons #genshin smut #genshin impact x female reader #genshin impact x you #genshin x female reader #genshin x you #kaeya smut #diluc smut #itto smut #childe smut #pantalone smut #dottore smut #capitano smut #zhongli smut

[show-your-fangs]

lil request of some jealous hotch maybe👉🏻👈🏻 i’m kinda picturing moments aaron getting all jealous and taking the matter in his own hands and teaching reader a lesson🫣😫

this is so fucking good, and coincidentally will be chapter 28 of moments 👀 (it involves a toy, a bed, and a few hours)

so instead please enjoy secret relationship hotch becoming jealous of his baby being hit on by some dude at a bar while the team is out, and then proceeding to finger her under the table

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x BAU!Reader

Words: 1.8k

CW: 18+, nsfw, mdni.

Tags/warnings: established secret relationship, jealous!hotch, possessiveness, pet names (baby, good girl), sir kink, groping, teasing, dirty talk, fingering (f receiving), exhibitionist kink, public sex, aaron basically fingers you in a booth in a bar.

Disclaimer: YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO REPOST MY WRITING ANYWHERE ELSE WITHOUT MY CONSENT. REBLOGS ARE ENCOURAGED THOUGH. YOU MAY NOT FEED MY WORK TO ANY AI DATABASES OF ANY KIND OR TO USE MY WORKS TO TRAIN AI. FUCK AI.

Aaron had never been more thankful for the low light of Shaw’s, thankful that the shadows that lingered all around them obscuring his hot, red ears from the agents around him. He wasn’t embarrassed by any means, no, he was livid. 

They were all staring and snickering about you, leaning over the bar as you waited for the drinks they’d all made you go get just so that you’d be forced to talk to the cute guy that had been making eyes at you all night. 

When you’d told them that you hadn’t noticed, they all scoffed and rolled their eyes, telling you that was the reason you were still single. But none of them knew, they couldn’t have, that the reason why you hadn’t seen him staring was because you only cared about one man’s eyes on you – your boss's.

He was rendered completely useless, unable to do anything about him, unable to leap to his feet, stalk across the bar and make him stop talking to you, before swiftly dragging you to the bathroom and fucking you silly until the only thing you could think about was his cock. 

He knew you weren’t doing it maliciously. There wasn’t a single bad bone in your body. It wasn’t your fault that he found you attractive, wasn’t your fault that Emily was determined to get you laid, wasn’t your fault that you were making him so unbelievably jealous that he couldn’t think straight. 

He almost let out a sigh of relief when the bartender slid five drinks on the counter in front of you and you skillfully grabbed all of them in your hands before quickly making your way back to their table. 

“So?” Emily asked the second you put the drinks down, everyone reaching out to grab their glass and the scoop of your flirting.

You shook your head. “Eh, not for me.”

You slid in next to Aaron, uncharacteristically so, and yet it didn’t seem anyone noticed, still too focused on you to notice how Aaron’s body had relaxed beside you. 

“That’s not for you?” Emily shockingly pointed back at the blonde guy at the bar who was now engrossed in conversation with another beautiful woman. 

“Nope,” you simply stated, not giving her anything to continue prying. She scoffed then, unbelieving. 

“Can we go dance now?” Penelope whined again and Morgan immediately began pushing Emily out of the booth so they could get out. 

You took a sip of your drink as you watched them scurry towards the other side of the bar, hand in hand, but not before they dragged Emily and JJ along for the ride. It was just the six of you now, Spencer having left earlier in the night and Rossi not even entertaining the possibility of getting wasted with you on a perfectly fine Friday night. 

“Have fun,” you joked, Emily poking her tongue out at you and you returned the gesture. “Get her to relax a little and leave me alone, JJ!”

Aaron took a swing of the cold beer he’d been nursing since you got here an hour ago, trying to play it as cool as he could, disinterest being what would maintain your relationship private, until you were finally alone.  

He set the glass back down on the table before his hand came down on your thigh, slapping it slightly, the coldness of his hand mixing with the sting on his action. Your gaze snapped to his, shocked, scared, ashamed, while his remained dark, glossy, enraged.

He was jealous, so unbelievably jealous he couldn’t even hide it. Your breathing picked up, your heart practically rattling against your chest, your mouth going dry with anticipation.

“Just out of curiosity,” he whispered, slowly running his hand up towards your heat. “What is your type?”

You slumped back in your seat, back pressed tightly against the plush cushions of the booth, acutely aware of where you were and the fact that your closest friends were dancing just behind you. 

Thankfully you were hidden away, obscured, but there were still a lot of people around, a lot of bodies that could turn to you at any moment. 

“I asked you a question, baby,” he snapped, grip tightening unbelievably close to where you needed him. 

“You,” you swallowed thickly. “You, sir.”

The pockets of haziness, of blurred lines and dark corners were finally working to his advantage as he draped your left leg over his lap, opening you up under the table to gain easier access. 

You couldn’t help but dart your eyes around the room once more, desperate to make sure that no one could see you like this.

“Don’t look at them, look at me,” he commanded and you swiftly obeyed, turning your hazy eyes back on his, the fire burning in them almost mesmerizing, holding you hostage. His hand slid off your leg, swiftly cupping your crotch tightly. “This belongs to me,” he squeezed. “You belong to me,” your eyes were glossy with tears now. “No one gets to touch you, ever, no one gets to flirt with you, no one gets to so much as look at you, do I make myself clear?”

You whimpered pathetically, nodding your head feverishly, and yet it only made him squeeze harder, bordering on painful. Your brows furrowed, confusion at his continued roughness making a single tear fall down your cheek.  

“Apparently I wasn’t clear enough,” he spat, his fingers skillfully pulling your panties to the side. His cold fingers were immediately met with wet warmth, your clit practically on fire as he began to tease it, never touching it long enough for you to feel anything other than frustration.

“No, sir, please,” you sobbed, your hand wrapping around his wrist, but instead of trying to force him off you, you tried to get him to touch you where you wanted him.

“No?” he repeated, incredulous. “You’re not mine?”

His movements stilled then and yet you continued to grind yourself against his palm, against his fingers, against him. Whatever shame, whatever fears you had about getting caught, about someone seeing him touch you seemed to have evaporated as the desire to finally come undone took over.

“Such a greedy girl,” he groaned in your ear. “Even when you’ve been bad and I’m trying to punish you, you still have one thing on your mind.”

His other arm wrapped around your waist, his hand tightly gripping your left hip to pin you back down to the seat and keep you there, unable to move yourself where you desperately needed.

It was like a spell lifted then, your face immediately flushing crimson as you were reminded of where you were and just how exposed you truly were, even in the low light. Your head fell into the crook of his neck, face buried into his shirt in shame. 

Your shame only spurred him on, his movements picking up once more, his fingers running along the entirety of your slit, collecting your slick, making sure to never touch your entrance or clit.

“Next time a guy comes up to you, what are you going to say?” he asked, bitter, condescending, mean. 

You couldn’t breathe much less think about what you wanted to answer, too concerned by trying to act as normal as possible. 

He landed a slap against your clit then, perfectly timed with the music around you, the instrument solo drowning out the sharp sound. You moaned, quickly biting into his suit jacket to further muffle the lewd noises spilling out your mouth. 

He gave you a second to allow the shock to sharpen your senses, his fingers returning to their previous movements casually as he scanned the room, making sure you hadn’t drawn any attention to yourselves. 

“Next time a guy comes up to me,” you managed through ragged breaths, bravely lifting your head so your gaze could meet his. “I’ll tell him I’m not interested.”

“Next time some guy comes up to you,” he seethed in your ear, low and terrifying. “You’re going to tell them your boyfriend doesn’t like to share,” he emphasized his words by finally sinking his fingers into you, coaxing a whimper from your throat. “And they should probably leave you alone before he comes back.”

He curled his fingers upwards, hooking them against the spot deep inside you that always made you come undone in seconds.

“Yes, sir,” you smiled brightly, the fact that he’d called himself your boyfriend fully processing through your fucked out brain. 

“Good girl,” and with that he let loose, his fingers thrashing inside you, not even building up to his big finale by sliding them in and out of you first. 

You held his stare, your mouth opening for silent moans, for restrained whimpers, for jagged breathing. He didn’t stop, couldn’t stop as the song your teammates had all been dancing too was quickly coming to a close. 

Your hands wrapped around his shirt, bunching it up and wrinkling it. That’s how he knew you were close. His thumb returned to your clit, rubbing fast circles over it. Your walls began to clench around him, your hips began to sink themselves farther into his hand. 

“Cum, baby,” he whispered into your ear, soft yet commanding.

It all came at you too quickly, the tension in your body snapping sharply and out of nowhere. Wetness dripped out of you and onto his hand as your body shook against his steady frame. His grip around your waist tightened slightly, bringing your body against him to help keep you stable.

He looked back at his subordinates still twirling around to the final chorus of the song, distracted enough for him to chance it. He leaned forward and placed a delicate kiss to your temple, slowly retracting his fingers from you as he reached over to grab a napkin. 

Even in the low light, in the darkness, he could see his hand glisten with your slick and a proud smirk enveloped his lips. You were still curled against him as he did his best to clean you up, to get rid of any evidence of what the two of you had just done. 

He bunched the napkins up, swiftly pocketing them before he set you back down on the seat, a respectable distance away from him, and wiped your face clean of your runny mascara. Almost as if he’d timed it perfectly, four bodies approached your table. 

“Are you okay, sweetness?” Morgan asked you as they returned to the table, definitely noticing your flushed face.

You nodded, not daring to make eye contact as your heart continued to race, the aftershock of your orgasm still rocking through you.

“I think she’s had too much to drink,” Aaron told him, concerned softness lacing his words, like a boss taking care of his employees. “I’m gonna take her home.”

He didn’t even have to prompt you to follow before you were sliding off the booth, your legs barely keeping you up. He followed quickly after you, hooking his arm around your back before you could collapse, leaving your untouched drink on the table in front of them. 

idk what it is about these two but they really like going at it in public

tags: @canuck-eh, @ssamorganhotchner, @criminalskies, @xladyxdreamer

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner smut #aaron hotchner x female reader #show your fangs writes #show your fangs asks #show your fangs hotch blurbs #hotch x reader #hotch x you #jealous!hotch

[pichirobi]

put your hands together for yet another hualian college au 🥳🥳🎉

once the star valedictorian of his high school, xie lian is now a broke, failing college student surviving on packaged ramen fished out of cafeteria garbage cans. his luck turns for the better when he meets the mysterious art student who's filled his canvases with portraits of xie lian.

fic series | au tag | notes under the cut! ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

xie lian (he/him, asexual)

xie lian's parents laid him off so he takes odd jobs, tutors, and does homework for anyone he can get to pity him. all of his money is spent on rent, and a cheap gym membership he abuses so he can at least look like he's functional on the outside. he bodybuilds his stress away.

his grades are terrible. xl's actually a greatly diligent student and does all his work, he just keeps misremembering due dates, and his professors are the kind that give zeroes on assignments typed in the wrong font.

he's kept fed by his roommate, shi qingxuan (she/he). xie lian's saved her ass from academic probation enough times for it to be embarrassing. their bond is more of a silent agreement to look out for each other.

hua cheng (he/they, demisexual)

his parents died when he was young but they left him a small fortune. he doesn't show off his money, unless it's to dress opulently outside of class and treating xl to expensive restaurants.

hua cheng takes like six courses a semester, four of which are obscure electives. he says it's because he likes to keep himself well-rounded and busy, but he has a ridiculous amount of free time anyway.

he's a perfect student but his professors are wary of him. he thinks very little of most professors and talks back to them in such a way where they can't tell if they've been insulted or not.

hc chooses the same art concentration every semester. portraits of the same beautiful boy at various ages. sometimes his art professor can get him to paint butterflies feeding on flowers.

hualian's backstory

their story begins on a playground. 10-year-old xie lian scares off mean kids bullying 8-year-old hua cheng over his heterochromia (one of the mean kids is qi rong). xie lian tells him he thinks hua cheng's eyes are pretty. xie lian wears earrings and has long hair that he braids with flowers, and he doesn't care what other kids think of him. he won't let anyone be bullied for their appearance.

we know what comes next—endless pining. hua cheng's infatuation grows as, from a distance, he watches his noble, gracious, special classmate defend kids who are easy targets (with the help of feng xin and mu qing) and earns the title of teacher's pet. hua cheng gains the bravery to stop covering his eye, until hualian are separated in chuzhong (secondary/middle school). the bullying returns and hua cheng swears to never take off the eye bandage again.

hua cheng's "young soldier" moment is at a halloween party in their last year of gaozhong (high school). hc's dressed as a ghost, face painted and almost unrecognizable. xie lian's dressed as a rabbit. qi rong spikes his cup of water. xl's top is sleeveless and it's unintentionally drawing unwanted attention to his shredded arms. some asshole teen girls won't leave him alone and keep flirting with/grabbing him. hua cheng tells them to fuck off and scares them away. although xie lian is indeed incredibly gorgeous and hua cheng is incredibly flustered, after the party, he makes sure to escort a drunk xie lian home.

some guy xl's never seen the face of starts rumors that xie lian paid off the administration to name him valedictorian, and that he sweet-talks his teachers into bullshitting his grades. he's the understudy for the lead role in a school play. the girl who was meant to lead falls horrifically sick and is in the hospital for some time. the guy who hides his face spreads another rumor that xie lian is the one who put her in the hospital so xl could have the attention/spotlight. other students gradually join in on the fun of bashing xl, knocking an admirable figure down to their level, until people start avoiding him, and his popularity is lost. feng xin and mu qing distance themselves from xie lian. hua cheng gets more detentions than usual for picking fights with anyone who dares to insult xie lian in front of him.

hualian in college

their third-first meeting is when xie lian is down on his luck, drenched from the rain as he just barely misses his bus to campus. hua cheng appears, stands next to xie lian with a red umbrella, and wordlessly waits with him for the next bus.

xie lian doesn't see the kind stranger again until he needs to track down the dean of xianle university, jun wu. jun wu is chatting with the head of the studio art department. while xl politely waits for their conversation to end, he looks around at the art students milling about, and catches that tall, handsome, kind stranger staring at him. the stranger smiles, looks down, and leaves. xl wanders the room to check out the art pieces scattered around, and comes to an easel in the corner. xl is faced with a painting of...himself. the signed name is written so poorly he can't read it.

hua cheng comes to him next. he introduces himself as "san lang" and asks xie lian for tutoring—not for any subject, but to improve his handwriting. cue montage of soft-spoken critiques and hands gently touching and hua cheng confessing his admiration via the poem they're practicing writing together. xie lian doesn't recognize hua cheng from their childhood but fixates on that lovely deep voice, trying to place where he's heard it before. hua cheng tries to overpay him but xie lian refuses, saying hc can tip him by grabbing lunch with xl. they meet up for calligraphy practice once a week.

san lang is generous and protective and patient. san lang is flirty and dependable and mischievous. he's also very, very handsome, distractingly so, "how can it be that no one's fought for the affection of a guy like you?" throughout the wild events of xie lian's life, hua cheng is right by his side. from helping ling wen the librarian organize hundreds of books and scrolls, to uncovering the schemes of pei ming's vengeful ex, to stopping the dangerous "pranks" of xl's insane cousin qi rong.

xie lian and shi qingxuan's dorm is falling apart at the seams. hua cheng spends a day and night with them helping to clean and renovate. he sleeps over (AND THERE WAS ONLY ONE BED ?!). xie lian wakes up to a new canvas painting on his bedroom wall. it's a beautiful portrait of himself, as a child, with flowers braided in long hair. in the bottom right corner is a signed name that xie lian can now read, the handwriting marginally improved.

xie lian finds that he stops expecting misfortune. he gains friends. his grades improve. at one of shi wudu's lake parties, xie lian nearly drowns, and hua cheng gives him totally unnecessary mouth-to-mouth. (they take this as inspiration to find completely bullshit excuses to kiss in the future.)

later on at the same lake party, they find a moment alone, warming/drying up by a fire pit. hua cheng alludes to being in love with someone who saw him at his worst. xie lian is envious of that. he firmly tells hua cheng that what matters is him, not the state of him.

misc

hua cheng has been going blind in his right eye for over a decade, and by college, he can just make out changes in light with it.

hualian definitely have a "draw me like one of your french girls" scene while their relationship is ambiguous. feng xin walks in and has prayed every day since then that he's knocked on the head so hard he gets amnesia.

hua cheng gradually leaves more and more of his belongings in xie lian's room until he practically lives there ("oh gege, how silly of me, leaving my toothbrush with you for the 23rd time this month 😇").

feng xin still calls xie lian "dianxia"; it was xl's nickname throughout primary school because he was such a beloved little prince 😌

feng xin and mu qing insist they're sworn rivals, but sign up to be each other's dormmates every semester. ("i know mu qing's every move. how many pillows he enjoys sleeping with. how he likes his coffee in the morning. you have to keep a vigilant eye on the enemy, dianxia.")

shi wudu offers xie lian an absurd amount of money to spy on report back weekly updates on shi qingxuan's life. xie lian politely refuses.

pei ming and lang qianqiu are gym lunks. sometimes they workout with xie lian, barely disguising their true intention of competing with each other.

hua cheng will occasionally waste time at a bar owned by he xuan. he plays poker and wins nearly every game by sheer luck. he doesn't bet money, but instead has the losers do something embarrassing for his own entertainment. he gains a fearful reputation, and mixes drinks when he's bored of playing or when no one in the room is brave enough to bet with him.

hua cheng makes up increasingly ridiculous stories as to why he covers his eye when he's asked. "it shoots a deadly laser." "a bear scratched it out, but i took its skin after. it made a nice rug." "my eye is right there. what are you talking about? are you okay?"

xie lian rescues a small, hungry cat he names banyue. he asks hua cheng to house her as he lives off-campus. the conversation goes like this:

"gege..."

"san lang 🥺"

"FINE."

qi rong buys a cat just to copy xie lian and names it guzi.

#i've only just finished book 4 so i'll probably add to this as i read more :D #if you're a writer you're welcome to reach out and ask to use this!! #hualian modern au #modern hualian #hualian college au #college hualian #xie lian #hua cheng #san lang #hualian #shi qingxuan #feng xin #mu qing #jun wu #ling wen #qi rong #tgcf #tian guan ci fu #heaven official's blessing #my art

[dmitriene]

— whispers of solace.

summary: in trying to relax, you see something that you should not, and as a result it turns into more. content: simon ghost riley x gn! reader tags: fluff, hurt and immediately comfort, angry ghost, maybe slightly flirt. author's note: was thinking about simon a lot and tiktok didn't help me much so please enjoy this short work!) enjoy your reading) 🖤

 ᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌  ᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌  ᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌  ᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ «i'm drowning in the night»  ᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌   ᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌  ᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌ ᠌ ᠌«when i'm like this, you're the one i trust»

As Ghost leaned against the base's cold, dimly lit hallway, his usual stoic demeanor was shattered, his hands shaking slightly, indicative of confusion in his normally controlled mind, memories of his past, life before the task force haunted him relentlessly, the gravity of his actions, the loss of his family and the darkness he had embraced scratched his mind.

Unbeknownst to Ghost, you, a member of the same task force, went outside the base to rest, the faint glow of your cigarette lit up the night as you exhaled a cloud of smoke, lost in your own thoughts, you noticed a figure on the periphery slumped against the wall, it took you a moment to understand that it was the Ghost, your Lieutenant and a man known for his aloofness and cold appearance.

You watched as he punched the wall, a gesture of frustration and pain, his mask obscured most of his face, but his body language was enough to convey his vulnerability, it was a side of him that no one had seen before, so after a moment's hesitation, you approached carefully.

— «Is everything all right, Ghost?» you asked quietly, genuine concern was evident in your voice.

He looked up at you, his bottomless brown eyes wary but tired as his lips parted as if about to say something, but there were no words.

— «Clean yourself up» he grumbled, trying to regain his usual composure

His tone was as scathing as always, a weak attempt to push you away, however, something in his eyes betrayed the facade he was trying to maintain, so you didn't move, stooding your ground, instead you took another step closer, your gaze didn't wavered.

— «You know, you don't have to go through it alone»

A joyless laugh escaped his lips, a bitter sound hanging in the air.

— «Don't pretend you know something about me»

You didn't flinch, your determination unwavering, your hand slowly reaching out, your fingers touching the fabric of his mask before gently cupping his cheek, the touch was hesitant, but your warmth seemed to seep through the barrier he had erected.

Ghost's body tensed under your touch as his head jerked slightly to the side, a mixture of surprise and vulnerability flooding through him as he tried to pull away, his pride struggling with his need for comfort.

— «I said.. I said go away»

— «I won't leave you in this state» your voice remained soft, unshakable.

His mask cracked and for a moment his hardened body trembled, the hand that was ready to push you away now hung in the air, not knowing where to run, as you continued to stroke his cheek, the tension in his muscles gradually subsided and his eyes closed by allowing himself to enjoy the simple comfort you offered.

— «You're not as bad as everyone says you are..» you whispered, your words barely audible over the night wind and background noise.

— «You are more than stories and rumors, you're human, and you're allowed to feel»

He let out a convulsive gasp, his shoulders slumped as if a weight had been lifted from him, his hand finally lowered, hovering hesitantly before touching your hand on his cheek.

For the first time in an eternity, Ghost allowed himself to be vulnerable, his mask intact, but the cracks widened to reveal the side of him he had suppressed for so long, his gaze meeting yours, brown eyes that were a mixture of pain, longing and a glimmer of hope.

— «You don't know what i was doing..» he confessed, his voice was a mere whisper

— «I may not know all the details, but i know enough, and i know that you are capable of change» you said calmly, smiling softly and stroking his cheekbone with your thumb.

You two stood in a dark hallway, a silent rapport arose between you, the Ghost's defenses crumbled and a bond formed in that vulnerability, your touch became an anchor that grounded him to a reality that was not solely defined by his past.

As the minutes dragged on, neither of you spoke, words seemed superfluous in the face of this suddenly found connection, and eventually the Ghost's eyes closed, weariness gripping his weary body as you continued to caress his cheek, your touch a source of comfort and reassurance.

In that moment, the Illusive Man allowed himself to believe that maybe, just maybe, he wasn't as incorrigible as he once thought, and you, constantly present next to him, were a beacon of light leading him out of the darkness.

Over time, the silence between you and the Ghost became surprisingly comfortable, the tension that had held him captive for so long continued to dissipate with each gentle touch of your hand against his cheek, as if your touch had the power to unravel the tightly twisted threads of his emotions, allowing him to withstand the pain. that he buried deep inside.

In the midst of the silence, the Ghost's thoughts whirled, he remembered the faces of his family, their smiles, the warmth of their hugs and their shared joy, but these memories were intertwined with the darkness of his past deeds, the lives he had taken, the decisions that led him to the path he imagined could not.

— «You can't save me» he whispered, his voice a mixture of resignation and deep anguish.

— «Perhaps not all at once, but you don't have to face it alone, we're a team, remember?» your gaze remained fixed and unwavering.

A fleeting smile touched the corners of his lips, causing the mask to wrinkle slightly, allowing you to recognize his emotion, a small crack in the façade he had painstakingly built.

— «Stubborn, isn't you?»

You chuckled softly, the sound like a soothing melody in a quiet hallway — «Only when it matters»

The Ghost's eyes fluttered open, his gaze following the flutter of blond lashes to meet yours with a newfound sense of vulnerability — «It's been a long time since anyone cared to try»

— «Well, get used to it, because i'm not going anywhere» you answered with pure determination in your voice.

He was silent for a moment, his mask of indifference slipped even more — «Why?»

Your hand slipped from his cheek to his chest, just above where his heart was beating under tactical gear.

— «Because there is more to you than the stern appearance that you show to the world, i see the pain, the struggle, and the potential for something better, Ghost»

A soft sigh escaped his lips, a mixture of relief and apprehension — «What if i can't change, if i can't do it?»

— «Then we will face it together» you stated firmly before continuing — «But I believe in you, Ghost»

His eyes never left yours, and for the first time the distance he always kept seemed to disappear, the corridor, the base, the whole world disappeared, only you two and the fragile bond that formed, the Ghost’s hand hesitantly raised, his gloved fingers touched your cheek in response.

— «Thank you» he whispered in a barely audible voice.

You leaned into his touch and your eyes closed for a moment before meeting him again in a soft whisper

— «Anytime»

With a sense of understanding, the two of you stood in the dimly lit corridor, finding solace in each other's presence, the Ghost's vulnerability drawing you closer, and in that moment, an unspoken promise of comfort, support, and acceptance hung in the air.

The outside world may have been full of chaos and danger, but within this corridor you found something of value — a connection that had the power to heal, correct, and bring Ghost out of the darkness that had consumed him for so long.

© dmitriene - my masterlist please, don't copy my works as your own, and if you want to post them somewhere else - contact me. reblogs, likes and comments are very much appreciated, thank you for reading! ♡

#simon riley #simon ghost riley #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley fanfic #simon riley fluff #simon ghost riley fluff #simon ghost riley fanfiction #simon ghost riley fic #simon riley x reader #ghost cod #ghost mw2 #cod ghost #cod mw2 #mw2 #[ ✒️july writing ]

[kingconia]

I saw the Neuvillete one and I come bearing a different Fontaine Character!

So how would the following react to an MC with personality traits of Navia?

Rook Hunt (Romantic)

Idia Shroud (Platonic)

Professor Trein or Professor Crewel (Mentor) (Your choice as to which professor to write)

Please and thank you!

ROOK HUNT, IDIA SHROUD AND PROFESSOR TREIN WITH FEM!MC, WHO IS LIKE NAVIA FROM GENSHIN IMPACT

Rook Hunt; romantic. 💜

— I have a feeling him and you will be a lot like Navia and Clorinde dynamic, but slightly a more teasing one;

— You play your own very strange little games, in which Rook follows you everywhere, trying to stay unnoticed, and you suddenly disappear from his view as soon as he relaxes, leaving funny notes and roses after yourself. Moriarty meets Moriarty;

— You find a common tongue quite quickly, and it is not only about french! You both are undeniably loud, cheerful, strange in eyes of others, and, oh! You like unsightly hats!

— I feel like students feel strangely uncomfortable around both of you as you speak nonsense—for others it seems this way, at least—or genuinely act very unhinged. And your flirting? It the worst!

•

”Y/n, l'amour de ma vie, where are you?” Rook hums thoughtfully, narrowed eyes scanning the bedroom where he just heard your voice a few minutes ago. ”Y/n?”

But the room is empty now, and the only thing that catches his attention is one of your fancy hats being left on the bedside. Clearly, intentionally.

Rook wastes no time in raising it in the air. As he expects, there is a note and a breathtaking violet rose under it, just waiting to be found by him.

’Catch me if you can, mon petit gâteau!~

P.S: I found this ethereal little thing this morning, when I was having my daily walk with Riddle R. It was obscured by others, more pompous ones, shyly peeking out from the bush. Others was blind to it, but I couldn't tear my eyes away from this flower. It reminded me of you, and so I painted it violet to this resemblance being even more obvious.

— With love from the one, who would poison you, if you were by husband.’

A laugh that escapes his lips is ever cheerful as Rook swirls the rose between his fingers, noticing only now that to addition to everything it is thornless; a clear evidence of the work of yours.

Quickly, he takes off his hat, leaving it behind, putting yours on his head instead.

”Well-well, Y/n... The one, who would drink your poison if he was your husband, is coming. Beware.”

Ah! What a perfect match you are!

Idia Shroud; platonic. 💙

— I genuinely believe he doesn't understand how such a loud and extraverted person, managed to befriend him. But you did, somehow, so congratulations? Or condolences. He is not sure, who suffers the most out of two of you, yet.

— I also feel like you intentionally pretended to needing him for some work or project, just to get closer and befriend him, but Idia thinks it was an accidental, lmao;

— He is so happy, when you tell him, that though you never played games before, you are willing to learn how to play his videogames, so he wouldn't feel so lonely;

— And in return for your kindness, Idia agrees to spend time with you on your weekly shopping sessions! Ah, sweet summer child... If he only knew!

•

Idia groans, hiding his face in his palms as he hears your quiet musings behind the door of the changing cabin. It is some silly french song, but in given circumstances, it is a lot like a dead march for him.

When you first told him about shopping sessions, Idia seemed surprised why would anyone waste time on something like this, when online shops literally existed. But, nevertheless, he tagged along with you. Because he is a good friend.

And at first, everything seemed fine. Yes, of course, you chose a very questionable and flushy clothes that looked as if someone pressed a ’random character design’ button, but... At least, you was quick! A few minutes here and there, and you finished with each shop effortlessly.

Until you saw a shop with hats. That is where everything started to crumble.

You spent fifty minutes only on staring at different hats, touching and checking their material, and carefully analysing every part of it as if it was a peace of art. And then, you spent even more on trying them on by one one, with different bought outfits from before! And it is not even going to end soon!

”So,” you ask, while opening the door of your cabin. ”How does it look, Idia?”

He has no idea! All of these hats look similar to him: too bright, too much, too pointy. What are you, a witch from nineties?!

”Cool,” he answers, offering you an awkward smile, not willing to he honest in this one.

You sigh.

”I don't kno-ow... Something is off.”

You have been telling the same thing over and over again. At this time, Idia wants to say that your style is off in general.

”Everything is very cool, I don't know.” He repeats, shrugging.

Please, let it work, please—

”Let me try another one,” you click your tongue, before disappearing again.

Idia wishes he could die.

Ah, the things he is doing for his best friend...

Professor Train; mentorship. 🤎

— He is a proud father of a few daughters canonically, so as soon as he sees you as one, you are instantly becoming his favourite student off all the time;

— But truth to be told, you really make his life as a teacher easy. It is often that students ignore his subject, calling it boring and the most uninteresting one, so when you start to ask him questions during the lessons, considering the topic of it, he is pleasantly surprised;

— And, oh, Lucifer loves you! When this cat jumps off his arms, to hide on your lap, professor Trein is absolutely... Shocked. That is unusual for his cat, but it is undeniable now: you are a trusted face;

— You are such a diligent and quiet student on his lessons that he is genuinely surprised, when he overhears that you had been a real troublemaker on other lessons! What do you mean Crewel hates you for criticism of his looks? Had you really broke your broom on Vargas's lesson?..

•

Mozus realises that it is you, who knocks on his door, when Lucifer starts meowing quietly, trying to catch his attention by scratching the fabric of his pants.

”Yes, Y/n?” He calls for you, allowing himself to take a quick break of checking everyone's homework.

You peek from the opened door, eyes slightly wide.

”How did you...”

But the question never leaves your lips, and instead you march in with a big pile of old books in your hands.

”Good morning, professor Trein!”

He gestures you to come closer with his hand, that is not busy with stroking the cat's fur. As you do, he examines you again, remembering his conversation with headmaster Crowley he had this morning.

It is so hard to believe that he described you as ’a smart, yet worthy of getting expelled’ student! Professor Trein can't understand how would anyone say something so deceiving about you.

”Good morning. How can I help you?”

You put books in front of him with a loud thud, gasping for air, clearly tired of carrying it around. Smiling widely, you gesture at them.

”Professor Trein, do you remember how you said that it is unclear what happened in the history Shaftlands between 13th century, after the revolution?” He nods, and you puff out your chest proudly. ”I called my uncle, and look at what I found in our family library! Here it is, the secret information!”

It is his turn to look astonished now. Had you really gone for all these troubles because of the small note he muttered near the end of his lesson?

”So, I brought it to you, thinking that you will be interested, maybe?”

...No, there is no actual way someone sees you as a rude girl! You are the best students he had in centuries. He actually will leave this working place if someone ever tries to get you expelled.

”...Ah, thank you. That is very nice of you.”

You lean closer automatically, and he pats you head as a reward; a very common thing you bribe out of him for good studies.

Lucifer uses this opportunity to jump on you as you laugh, catching the cat hastily, clearly being ready for such an unexpected attack.

Mozus smiles shortly, watching you dancing around the class with Lucifer in your hands, and then, checks the books on his table again.

...Ah, perhaps, being a teacher is not that bad, after all.

#twisted wonderland #twst wonderland #rook hunt x reader #rook x reader #rook hunt #idia shroud x reader #idia shroud #mozus trein #professor trein

[treysimp]

Trick Or Treat! (Part 3)

(GN!Reader/Ruggie / Jack / Leona)

Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 (This one!)

Rating: T

Introduction: After the Ramshackle ghosts had whipped you and Grim up some intensely cute wizard costumes, you decided that you were going to go hunt down all of your friends and offer them a trick or a treat! Which one will they choose?

Tags: Reader’s body not described nor are pronouns used, fluff, kissing the homies good morning, friends to flirting heavily, sorry for all of you that are good cooks I decided that Reader-chan is not for this one (you can blame the Ramshackle kitchen if you want), eating baked goods (food and food consumption warning)

Words: 2k

Author’s notes: We getting hella smoochies in this fic folks.

Want more TWST? Here’s my masterlist!

Now that you had finally escaped the heart-pounding grip of your Heartslabyul besties, you were making your way to the Savannahclaw booth at Grim’s request.

It was an almost shockingly impressive sight. 

While you loved the graveyard that the previous location was at, the shimmering shipwreck felt so mysterious and surreal. You recalled that they had a pirate theme, and looking upon the stranded vessel on the shore you felt almost hypnotized with the curiosity of wanting to see what treasures lay hidden inside.

It wasn’t all that crowded, but making your way to the stamp location was a bit more harrowing than expected. Due to the plethora of Savannahclaw pirates who were ready to try and jump-scare you around every turn, your voice was getting a bit more hoarse by the minute.

You felt a little more pathetic with each yelp of surprise, but since Grim was already bawling comical tears, you were trying your best to not have both of you sobbing in fear.

Much to your chagrin though, the sudden grip of a hand around your wrist startles you into another undignified scream as you feel yourself being pulled inside a hidden door with a snap.

It was completely dark, and you couldn't see a thing. Other than the fact that you could tell someone else was in here with you, you were completely clueless. 

Well, that was until you heard the laughter anyway.

“Shyee-hee-hee you should see the look on your face! Priceless!” Giggles your fluffy-eared captor, eyes watering from breathless laughter.

“Ruggie!” You exclaimed, slapping him across the chest. “You scared the shit out of me! I was about to start swinging, you know!” 

You huffed, crossing your arms and glaring at the ground to try and obscure the embarrassment at both the shrillness of your screaming and how close this little broom closet had pressed the two of you together. 

You could feel every minty breath of Ruggie’s wash over your skin with his unending giggles, it was an overwhelming sensation.

“Hit me again, maybe you’ll feel better?” Ruggie said teasingly, leaning his head against the wall that your shoulders were pressed so firmly against. 

What was with everyone invading your personal bubble today? Did Twisted Wonderland have some weird Halloween tradition you were unaware of?

“I think you should give me that bag with my name on it first though,” Ruggie added, bringing his face dangerously close to your own.

You looked down at your pail only to see that the plastic bag was already in Ruggie’s hands.

“What’s the point of stealing it when it was for you in the first place?” You said with a frown.

“Aww, come on. Seeing the faces you make is reward enough.” He laughed, eyes sparking at the glare you gave him.

You bit back a retort at that one. Ruggie clearly was just trying to tease you and it wasn’t worth playing into it.

“Fine. You got cookies and got to see me scream. Happy?” You huffed.

“Hmm… I can think of one more thing I’d like?” Ruggie said, playfully tapping his chin in thought. 

“Such as?”

“I’ve read that a kiss from a cute wizard can give you good luck?” 

For the nth time today, you could feel the blood rush and settle on top of your cheekbones. What in the world had gotten into these boys?

“Fine.”

“…if that doesn’t work, then-!” Ruggie’s eyes got almost circular in surprise.

“Fine?”

“Fine.” You repeated. 

“Oh ah… I wasn’t expecting you to say yes.” Ruggie flustered. You took a bit of joy in being the cause of someone else’s embarrassment today for once.

You pinched your nose as the awkward silence grew. At this point, you just wanted out of this closet.

Taking a step forward, you placed a palm on either side of Ruggie’s head and planted a kiss on his soft hair. As you removed a hand, you took the opportunity to stroke the base of his hyena ears, which caused him to lean into your touch ever so slightly.

Throat dry, eyes wide, Ruggie stared at you for a moment. 

With a heady swallow and a cough to clear his throat, he muttered a quiet ‘thank you for the luck’ and reached behind you, pushing a near-invisible hinge that re-opened the door that he had snapped you up from.

Grim, who was seconds away from burning the wall down to get you back out from the trap door, was very relieved.

After Ruggie’s devious detour, you felt incredibly relieved to see Jack waiting at the booth for visitors.

Eyes bright, Jack cutely put up his hands into claws and gave you and Grim an enthusiastic, “Happy Halloween!”

You were delighted to see how cool his costume looked on him and also incredibly relieved to spot a large bowl of candy on the stamp table. 

That got rid of one possible problem.

“Jack! You look so awesome!” You exclaimed, delighting in the way that your friend visibly puffed up at the compliment.

“You look great too, Prefect. You really should see Leona though, out of all of us he looks like he could be the real pirate.” Jack said modestly, clearly trying to change the subject rather than take the compliment. 

His bashfulness was always so cute for such a tough-looking guy.

Shuffling up to make pointed eye contact with the candy bowl, Grim hollered out his new favorite words:

“TRICK OR TREAT!” 

Jack's face split into a sweet smile, grabbing a handful of candy and dropping it into Grim’s bucket.

Grim was ecstatic upon seeing the haul and immediately sat down to begin cataloging his newly acquired loot like a crow with its collection of sparkly garbage.

Well, he did eat like garbage sometimes, you supposed.

“Prefect?” Jack called quietly, extending a candy you hadn’t seen before out to you in his palm.

“I saved this one for you. You mentioned how you liked the one I gave you before, so…”

Oh! That sparked a memory. Jack had shared a small sweet from the Sunset Savannah with you the other day, this must be another one of those.

Taking the piece of candy carefully in your hand and cradling it like a treasure, your heart felt a little warmth that Jack had remembered something you had said so off-handedly.

“Thank you. I brought you something too.” You said, handing him his cookie bag.

An emotion you couldn’t quite place flickered over Jack's face for a fraction of a moment.

“For me?” He asked, eyes darting back and forth between the cookies and your face. You couldn’t know what this means, right? He bit his lip. 

No, even other non-beastmen Twisted Wonderland inhabitants probably didn’t know. The tips of his fingers were tingling at the thought. 

Maybe he would have to tell you someday. 

What would you think if you knew?

Unluckily for Jack, you took his extended silence as displeasure.

“You like cookies, right? Um... if you don’t, I can also make you something else?” You offered, hand reaching to grab back the bag you had given him.

Jack shook his head so fast you were worried that he might get dizzy, protectively holding your cookies to his chest and then quickly stuffing them in a hidden pocket of his frock coat.

“I love yo-them. I love cookies.” He said affirmatively. 

You were curious just what he was about to say before he corrected himself, but if you knew anything about Jack it was that he was good at keeping his mouth shut when he was done talking.

“I’m glad.” You said with a laugh. “I’m sorry we both took so much time. I’m sure you have other people to help." Walking over to scoop the candy your buddy had laid out on the ground, you helped Grim to his feet.

"Grim, let’s get to the next place, okay?” You said, extending your hand to hold the paw of the feline.

Grim looked at you puzzled, and then over your shoulder at Jack meaningfully.

“You ain’t gonna kiss him too? Everyone keeps asking for you to kiss ‘em today…” Grim asked curiously, feigning innocence with the question. 

He knew exactly what he was doing though, as evidenced by the soft gasp that escaped Jack behind you and Grim’s innocent expression curled into a devious grin.

‘You little jerk’ you mouthed at him, before turning on your heel to look back at Jack.

He seemed exceedingly flustered, eyes wide in shock.

“You’re um… giving out..?” Jack couldn’t even get himself to finish his sentence.

“People keep either asking for or giving me kisses for some reason,” you say with an awkward laugh, “If you…”

“Yes! I mean-! I don’t want to be left out? No! Um…” Jack seemed deeply conflicted, switching between a volley of emotions between stammers.

It did seem like he wanted the kiss though. Well, you could do that much, right?

Slowly stepping closer to the handsome wolfman, you reach for his chin in hopes of coaxing him within kissing distance.

His skin is burning hot, and for a moment you thought he might not have been realizing what you were trying to do, his unfocused eyes scanning over your face. 

It seemed like the message got through to him after a moment though, as he hesitantly got his face close enough to yours to touch.

Leaning forward, you planted a kiss on the tip of his nose, quickly separating from him with a giggle.

Jack’s hand shot up to touch the spot your lips had brushed against, but you could swear that he had visibly brightened from the contact.

“What’s this I hear about you going around smooching the student body, herbivore? You lost a bet or something?” A familiar voice laughed from behind you.

Spinning around to see the sudden company you had gained, you spotted Leona casually leaning against a wooden beam. His white teeth were practically glistening with each sardonic laugh that escaped his perfect lips as he tilted his head curiously at you.

How did Leona always seem to find the exact time to show up in order to ruin the moment?

“What, are you jealous?” You counter, eyebrow raised and fists planting onto your hips. “Better ask fast if you want one, me and Grim were just about to leave.”

Leona was silent, staring off at something on the wall behind you rather than making eye contact. He seemed to be thinking uncharacteristically hard about something.

“Y’know… I was considering going sightseeing to scope out the competition. The ah… Stamp Rally competition, that is. Should I tag along with you? I do love seeing all the weird trouble you can stir up.” Leona said, his grin growing impossibly wider.

You weren’t sure exactly what Leona was expecting you to say when he had the whole conversation with himself just now.

To his credit, Leona seemed to have done a great job convincing himself of his proposal by the end of the last sentence, because his hand had made it around the crook of your elbow and was dragging you off of the ship.

“Jack, you’re in charge while I’m gone. Don’t let Ruggie sell off too many of the props, alright?”

“Aye, aye captain!”

You sighed. Here we go again.

“So where exactly were you goin’?” Leona drawled, his grip on your arm one degree away from discomfort.

“Diasomnia's booth. So, Ramshackle. I guess.” You replied, hoping that the prospect of seeing Leona’s least favorite fellow dorm leader might dissuade him from whatever this weird whim was.

“Ugh, really? Fine, but you owe me.”

“I didn’t ask you to come along, you know.”

“You didn’t have to. Not with you looking like a helpless sheep in the middle of my den of wolves. Keep that up and we’ll have a problem.” Leona groused, pulling you to walk faster.

“Ugh, I don’t get you.” You complained, shooting Leona a weak glare.

“That makes two of us, sheepy.”

Leona is gonna get more time to shine next chapter, I just wanted an excuse for him to argue with Malleus, haha.

What do y'all wanna see happen? Any guesses?

Love you, reader!

Requested tags:

@readinganas, @yandere-kou, @daeda21, @sideofblog, @buckketboy, @hxlcyon, @aikochan4859, @kumiko-desu, @ninjas-are-the-shit, @star-gods, @fragmentedstarlight, @sarahyumiko2, @sunnyseaside, @rosalie-in-twisted-wonderland, @chopid, @rebel-faes-writing, @stillserene, @witch-waycult, @fr0llo, @bluesylveon2, @dari-kun, @kit4kat256, @leonkae, @riddle-simp, @fightmeucowardlmao, @lovelynai, @shytastemakerthing, @chillywinterbreeze, @venniin, @acherrytart, @omg-its-ailatan, @youaskedfurret, @supernatural9000, @angrybees, @lotus-sukimono, @the-mermaid-of-stars, @scapemindsblog, @bunntsu, @kawaiisimp, @cupidflower, @mcandynismydream, @probablynoposts, @hitoshitoshi, @maxxthecatblob, @cecilisthebest, @naniky,

#twst jack #twst ruggie #twst leona #jack howl #ruggie bucchi #leona kingscholar #jack howl x reader #ruggie bucci x reader #leona kingscholar x reader #twst reader insert #twisted wonderland #disney twst #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland fanfiction #twst imagines #gender neutral reader #reader insert

[vodika-vibes]

Congratulations on the 500 followers hun! Can I please get a Ruby with one of the clone trooper assassins who accidentally falls in love with the female reader who was kind to him and flirted with him while he was disguised as a regular clone to scope out 79's for his first mission, (maybe he hasn't officially killed anyone yet, up to you!) but he ends up totally blindsided by her, they end up having a couple of drinks, dancing together, getting hot and heavy, groping, making out on the dancefloor before moving to either a dark corner of the bar or the alley behind the bar where they fuck, it's amazing and he's absolutely as smitten for her as she is for him and basically ends up defecting from the Empire for her and using his assassin skills so they can escape offworld together? I totally understand if this character is too obscure to write for; I've just been re-watching tbb and these gorgeously dangerous guys have got me feeling some kind of way.😩 Thank you either way. 💖

Worth It

Summary: While at a club with your best friend, you meet a man who changes everything.

Pairing: Clone Assassin x F!Reader

Word Count: 899

Warnings: Smutty, though it's not detailed

Prompt: Ruby - Passionate Love

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni

A/N: Okay, so. I've never watched TBB, so my knowledge on the Clone Assassins is non-existent. Anyway, I dealt with the difficulties of this by only referring to him as he, and by writing in the reader's pov. I hope this is close to what you wanted!

“Why?” You drape yourself across the table as you stare, balefully, at your best friend. “It’s soooo hot. Why are we at a club? With the more hot? And all of the people with all of their breathing, making it hotter?”

Your friend props her hands on your shoulders and you grimace when her skin sticks to yours uncomfortably, “Because. You need to get laid.”

“Stop touching me. I think I’m melting into goo.”

“You’re dramatic.”

“You’re dramatic.” You snip back, sitting back up and grimacing again at the leather of the booth you’re sitting it sticks to your skin as well, “This is awful-”

“I swear to,” She rolls her eyes and then twists, and you can hear the sound of the leather pulling away from her skin, “Um…oh! Go dance with him!”

You tilt your head away from the ceiling to look at her, “Him? Him who?”

“Him!” She gestures to a man standing near the wall, nursing, what looks like, a glass of ice water. “Tall, dark, and broody over there.”

You consider it for about 5 seconds, and then tilt your head back, “Hard pass. I’m going to stay here and melt into a puddle of miserable goo. Thanks though.”

She rolls her eyes loudly, and stands. She tugs you out of the booth and drags you through the throng of people, and then shoves you at the aforementioned man.

He looks slightly startled to have you shoved at him, but not half as startled as you are to be shoved in the first place. “Here, she’s your problem now.”

Now that you’re closer to him, you have to admit that your friend has good taste in potential partners for you. The man is gorgeous. With dark eyes and dark skin and, frankly, incredibly kissable lips. 

“Uh…hi?” You greet sheepishly, one of his hands is settled comfortably at the bare skin of your waist, and while it’s still miserably hot, you find that you don’t mind his touch. 

“Hi.” He replies as he sets his glass down on the table next to him, there’s a small smirk playing on his lips, “So, you’re my problem now?”

You shrug one shoulder, a teasing smile playing on your lips, “Most men like the kind of problems I bring.”

“Is that right?” He hasn’t taken his gaze off your face, “Let’s put that to the test shall we?” He nudges you towards the dance floor, and you know that if you took your gaze off of him for a moment, your friend would be so smug, but you don’t want to look away from him.

He’s…mesmerizing.

He tugs you close, one hand settling low against the small of your back, while his free hand wanders up your side and across your upper back and into your hair, before sliding back down. 

Normally, you hate dancing in clubs. Your dance partners have, in the past, been very bad about letting other men rub up against you. But that doesn’t happen with him, he seems to have a sixth sense about when people are getting too close to you.

It’s nice, having only him touching you.

And it’s either that, or the way that he’s looking at you, or the pleasant buzz from the fruity drink you finished earlier, or maybe the heat of the night-

But you can’t help from raising up on your toes and pressing your lips against his.

He kisses you back like his life depends on it, and his hands burn a path up your sides, across the swell of your breasts, and then back down to tightly grip your ass. His hands are everywhere, and you can’t help but release a needy groan against his lips and grinding against him.

For a moment, just a moment, he falters against you, but before you can ask if something is wrong, he’s ushering you out of the club and into the, slightly less, stuffy heat of the night.

He pins you against the wall just down a darkened alley, his lips never once leaving yours, his tongue sliding against your own. And when his hands slide under your top, calloused fingers caressing and tracing, your head falls back and you release a moan.

“I need you,” He gasps against your throat, “Can I have you? Please?”

You laugh breathlessly and slide your fingers up his neck and into his hair, “I wouldn’t have let you bring me out here otherwise.”

He groans against your throat, and his deft hands start tugging at your shorts, unfastening the button and sliding them just far enough down your legs that he’s able to slide his fingers against your slit. 

Your hands curl into fists in his hair, and you release a shuddering groan, and his fingers pause, his dark gaze locked on your face.

“W-why are you stopping?” You whine, trying to arch against him.

He leans in so that his lips are pressed against your ear, “I’m defecting from the empire.” You freeze, your hands tightening in his hair, “Come with me.”

It’s a plea. Or a bargain. 

And you bury your face in his neck as his fingers start moving again. You have friends here. Family. A good job.

But-

Heh. And that ‘but’ is really the big thing, isn’t it?

He pushes you closer and closer to your orgasm, and your arms tighten around him, “Okay.”

#star wars #tbb #vodika-vibes 500 followers celebration #tbb clone assassin x reader #clone assassin x reader #star wars fanfiction #x reader fanfiction #f!reader fic #18+ fic #clone thirsting #answered asks

[leupagus]

Three-Legged Puppy Fics

List five of your least-popular fics, as well as when/why you wrote them.

Home to the Weary: Merlin, Gwen/Morgana, 2010.

I wrote this at the request of a friend who wanted, I think, something Gwen-centric. Because I was not a fan of the show I decided to focus on an AU in which Gwen backflipped out of that whole situation and founded her own sort of kingdom, only meeting the terrible trio years later. It was really fun and was the first time I'd ever tried writing a fic that hinted at a larger world going on around the characters, if that makes sense. This one's a little pretentious but you can definitely see my "style" as it were.

Treads on the Ground: Babylon (not the sci-fi show, the short-lived british cop show), Liz Garvey/Finn Kirkwood, 2022.

This was written during my Bertie Carvel phase where I'd watched "Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell" and was desperate for something, anything, that didn't have him wearing terrible prosthetics or playing a psycho. He still sort of plays a psycho in this show, but he looks super hot and angry all the time which is really all I needed. (Also bonus hilarity: Liz's boyfriend in this show is played by none other than James Lance, playing "louche asshole" to the absolute hilt.) Anyway I wrote this because I really wanted a fake dating AU for these two AND a "Finn is secretly in line to the throne" fic and this was the perfect way to combine these two. I'm still legitimately really proud of thsi fic.

The Bright Relief: 1776 musical, John Adams & Thomas Jefferson (and a little bit of / in there, if I'm honest), 2010.

I wrote this because my friends waldorph and screamlet and I were having the Summer of 1776 Feelings and we all wrote various (wonderful) crimes and misdemeanors in that fandom, mostly revolving all the ways in people who love John Adams make fun of him. That was a truly terrible summer but made a whole lot better by those two, and by William Daniels being the most John Adams to ever John Adams. (I actually rewatched the miniseries a few months ago and Paul Giamatti does a great job but that thing is SO DREARY. Although I will say Stephen Dillane first caught my eye in the role of TJeff, aka once again playing a guy who's down real bad for someone smarter than him (in this case both Abigail AND John). The scene where he first meets Abigail is just nonstop flirting, with John making faces in the background. It's great.)

Happy Tails To You (Until We Meet Again): SGA, Rodney McKay/John Sheppard, 2009.

Oh lordy — probably the worst fic I've ever written, but I can't quite bring myself to delete it. I've been on the periphery of fandom for most of my adult life (what up X-Files yahoo groups and Prodigy Star Trek RP rooms), but SGA was what made me start thinking of writing fic after a long period of only reading it. (Yes, there is college-era gus fic out there. No, I'm not posting it on AO3.) I never quite got a handle on Sheppard or McKay but I did enjoy writing this and the other SGA fic I wrote, but yeah this deserves its obscurity.

Honey Now I'm Not One To Complain: Dalgliesh, Adam Dalgliesh/Kate Miskin, 2022.

Another one of my "Bertie Carvel is extremely attractive when he's sad and/or a cop" flash-fandoms, although I wrote a pretty good primer on the first season that I think gives a good case for the show as a whole. I wanted to write that largely because the show is so resolutely grim and I prefer stories that are... not grim, so I gave myself the challenge of putting these guys into one of the classic tropes. I did toy with the fake dating/marriage trope but honestly I think this was funnier, and I would always rather commit to the bit.

Tagging uhhh let's see, @laiqualaurelote, @themardia, @sadcypress, @auntieclimactic, and @eyebrowofdoom, if they (or anyone else) wants to do this.

#three-legged puppy fic appreciation #ficcage of interest #...very very slight interest

[angelltheninth]

Hi if you're comfortable with it can I please request being Miguel's hot secretary

Fuck yes you can! That's me! I'm the hot secretary!

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, office sex, power play/imbalance, teasing, rough sex, degradation, praise, size kink, flirting, size difference, biting, marks, possessive sex, ceo!Miguel, secretary!Reader

A/N: I fucking HATE wearing skirts, but for Miguel I'd consider it.

It all starts out with mostly harmless flirting between you two. There is an attraction there but both of you are hesitant to really act on it because Miguel is your boss, there are so many lines there neither of you should cross. Yet when your hands touch over the desk sparks don't just fly, they explode and you all but climb over the desk to meet him in a heated kiss.

"So fucking eager. You made a mess of my desk. I worked on those mission reports all day. How will you make it up to me? I can work on you all day? Those are some brave words from someone of your size. Are you sure you could take a whole day of punishment?"

Weather you could or couldn't didn't matter as much as you wanting to. Miguel was huge, every where, and thick, so you couldn't ride his dick as you pleased at first. He pushed you away when you tried. Spread over his desk he worked your pussy with his skilled tongue, his jaw coming up wet from your slick.

"Let's try this again. Slowly. Do you trust me? Good. Good girl, hold stil while I push it in. I know, I know it's big, and you feel so fucking tight, so incredible. Half way there beautiful, a little more... fuck! Can you feel it? Can you feel how deep inside you I am? Has any man ever spread you open like this? Don't worry, you'll get used to it."

Breaks become less about lunch and more about the two of you making each other come as many times as you can. Thankfully the glass obscures the view from the outside so you don't have to worry about being seen. Miguel leaves bites just out of view, just barely covered by your clothes, only the two of you knowing they're there.

"How about on your thigh this time. On the inside of it. Unless you'd rather have it lower but it might show if your shirt gets heighted up. Want everyone to know your fucking your boss? You'd make so many people jealous. Or they'd think you're an office slut. Not wrong but you're my slut only aren't you? I'm not letting anyone else have you."

Miguel offers you rides home but they're really rides back to his apartment while you ride his cock. There's still work to be done before the day ends but first you both need to get rid of this horny tension. Then you can work with him, naked and letting his cum drip from your fucked cunt while you sit in his lap.

"Don't you worry about that. Sit here. I promise, no funny business until these are sorted out. How can you not trust me? I'm your boss! You don't trust me to keep my cock all to myself. I see. Then you could... keep it inside you, that way you'll be in control. Deal?"

#miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara imagine #across the spiderverse #spiderman across the spiderverse #miguel x reader #miguel o’hara smut #miguel smut #marvel smut #spiderverse x reader #atsv x reader #atsv imagines #miguel o'hara imagine #miguel o’hara #spiderman 2099 smut #marvel x reader #marvel imagine #marvel x you #x female reader

[marleyswho]

no woman, no cry (chapter three)

warnings. false awakening/reoccurring dream. fluff. introduction to more oc’s. mention and description of mental breakdown. ex-girlfriend and sisters. that kind of soul connected love. two-sided personality. slight neglect. hinting towards flirting. jealous!tish. possessive!tish. angst. tense arguing. a realization and apologies

tags. @shurislover @s0lam33y @desswright29 @pocketsizedpanther @naftalyspaces @oceean @tishlvr @bbbbbbrilliantly @shurisnovia @kisskourt @blkgworlamplified @prettymrswright @sweetalittleselfish-honey @jordisblogg

notes. this chapter contains… a lot, we’re hitting ALL the emotions. i’ve been ready to write this chapter for weeks as that scene was replaying in my head over and over and now it’s finally here. i hope you all love it ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

The Milan sun dips below the horizon, casting a soft amber hue over the bustling Malpensa Airport, the first time she’s felt the sun since leaving Jamaica. Genesis stands in the economy boarding line, her dreadlocks tied into a loose bun, tucked under a knit beanie. Her eyes, a reflective pool of thought, wander across the vast terminal, watching the world around her.

Once the line moves enough, she hands over the needed documents, a subtle sigh escaping her lips as she does, fingers brushing against a leather-bound journal in her bag, a collage of sketches and musings that mirror her soul.

Boarding the aircraft, Genesis nestles into her seat, the window to her left granting her a panoramic view of the bright tarmac lights. The seat beside her remains vacant, a small luxury in the cramped quarters of economy, and ahead of her is the curtain that divides the classes. She imagines Letitia, her relaxed posture in the cocoon of first-class comforts.

Genesis blacks out most of takeoff, having done it many times before, and though she doesn’t sleep well normally, there’s times where her body’s just so tired that she doesn’t even realize she falls into it.

And this time, when her eyes droop closed, an image floods her sight. It’s a field, a vast expanse of green that seems to stretch infinitely. And there’s a small child, maybe no older than nine. It’s her, a child with braids, her clothes a couple sizes too large on her skinny frame, billowing around her as she runs. But it isn’t joyous, there’s no laughter, only fear clear on her face, set by the sudden harsh crackle of incoming flames.

She doesn’t say a word, doesn’t scream for help, only her ragged breathes are heard as she runs towards her view of the scene, an intuitive understanding that to turn would be to acknowledge the fear gnawing at her heels. And she’s never been one for that.

She hears the gallop of hooves suddenly, a man on the horse a persistent shadow in her periphery. His presence is ominous as he rides after her, yet there’s something strangely familiar, like a forgotten verse of a once-loved song.

And then she hears the hum.

The tune’s a constant, melodic notes, deep and experienced, echoing a timelessness that feels both foreign and familiar, seemingly etched into her very soul. Yet its origin remains a mystery, obscured like a half-remembered lullaby.

The dream dissolves as the Captain’s voice announces their descent into Heathrow, and Genesis stirs, her eyes opening to the sterile light of the cabin, causing her eyebrows to furrow.

Still in a sleepy haze, she stows her journal, making an internal commitment to try and decipher the dream’s meaning later, wether be in sketch or writing, and she checks the seat pocket and the floor before zipping up her carry-on, knowing she has everything, now ready for landing, ready for the return back to urban life in its entirety. And the humming retreats into the recesses of her mind, where it will wait, patient and steadfast, for the night’s sleep, or a moment of meditation, or even revelation, when she’ll finally be able to recognize it for what it is.

Once she’s able to get off the plane, she steps into limited space of the tunnel, and she’s not sure she’s excited or even relieved of the arrival. But then she sees her, Letitia, standing in the slightly more open space next to some workers, a soft smile turning her lips up slightly. Her presence is a balm to the fatigue and anxiety that clings to Genesis like a second skin.

“Hey,” Letitia says quietly, reaching out to intertwine their fingers, her palm providing gentle warmth against Genesis’ almost chronically cold skin.

“Hey,” Genesis mirrors her, voice a little raspy, tinged with the remnants of sleep.

Together, they navigate the throngs of passengers, moving in silent harmony towards the assigned baggage claim, the carousel churning out suitcases in a rhythmic clunk. And Genesis watches as Letitia grabs hers with easy grace, seemingly a contrast to the tension she feels in her own limbs, happy she only traveled with her crossbody bag.

Suddenly, a whistle, sharp and clear, cuts through the murmurs around them and Genesis’ head turns instinctively towards the sound, her heart recognizing it before her mind even can, her eyes instantly falling on the form that made it.

Julian, a head above the crowd, his dreadlocks a cascade over his shoulders, his smile seeming to reach his eyes, igniting a furry of emotions within Genesis, a mixture of joy, nostalgia, and an unspoken trepidation.

“Gen!” He calls out her name and the sound brings with it a flood of memories. Sun-drenched afternoons and the smell of rain hitting the earth.

“Julian…” She breathes out, her voice quiet, yet there’s the smallest smile forming on her lips.

His arms wrap around her easily, his six foot frame towering over Genesis’ five-four one, an invitation back to the days of their youth where a hug would fix all the scrapes on knees and hearts alike. The familiarity of the embrace envelopes Genesis like a blanket, the kind of hug that doesn’t shy away from the past.

“God, I’ve missed you.” Julian murmurs, his voice a low rumble that reverberates through their joined bodies, and Genesis breathes in the scent that’s unmistakably Julian, the faint trace of sandalwood and the crispness of open air that always seems to cling to him.

They pull away slowly, reluctance threaded in Julian’s movements, his hands lingering on her shoulders for a moment longer, eyes searching her green ones, for the friend he knew, the one that climbed trees to their highest branch and dreamt as big as the sky.

“Yuh alright?”

“I think so…” Genesis nods, voice steady, and Julian can’t help but chuckle, pulling back fully now. And in that moment, she feels Letitia’s hand take hers again, a gentle squeeze felt, and Julian notices the subtle entwining, looking between them before his eyes fall on their hands.

“Letitia, yeah?” He questions, looking at her with a slightly narrowed expression. Letitia nods, extending a hand to his, feeling his tight grip as he shakes. “Nice to see you again.”

“You too.” Letitia replies, voice steady.

With the luggage secured and the hustle of the airport now behind them after walking out, Genesis and Letitia stand on the curb, the cool London air wrapping around them. Julian, having gone to retrieve the car, pulls up on their place by the sidewalk, his presence a reminder of the incoming departure.

“I always dreaded this part.” Genesis looks at Letitia, eyes softening as she remembers back to the moments of goodbyes between them, after months together for filming and press.

“Only for the night. Tomorrow we can grab coffee or tea at that little place you love. What is it… Exmouth Coffee?”

“You remembered?” Genesis cant stop the smile from appearing on her lips. She maybe only mentioned that fact once, at least five years ago now.

“Of course,” Letitia says, a playful rebuke in her tone. “I remember everything when it comes to you.”

And they move closer, a hug enveloping them with a deep warmth, one that fills Genesis’ heart, and Letitia’s whisper fills her ear.

“Nine tomorrow? Meet you there?”

Genesis nods as they pull away, but not too far, pressing a soft peck against Letitia’s lips before they finally step apart fully, Letitia opening the passenger side door for her before closing it again, leaning down to look at Julian through the window.

“Take care of her, yeah?”

“Always.” Julian nods with reassurance from the driver’s seat, and she straightens, about to step back, when she hears his voice again. “Oh, and Letitia?”

Her eyes meet his in curious question.

“Thank you for bringing her home.”

A warmth fills Letitia’s heart, nodding, sharing one last glance with Genesis, the finality of the moment hanging heavy in the air before she finally steps back onto the curb, watching as Julian pulls away, soon disappearing around the corner.

The ride to Tottenham is shrouded in the kind of silence that allows the soul to speak. She sits there, her gaze fixed on the world racing by the window as the city transitions from the polished streets of London to the more rugged, lived-in spaces of Tottenham. She always thought of Tottenham as London’s Trench Town, in ways, those who grew up normally try and get out.

Letitia did… but Genesis isn’t there yet.

Yet, Chronixx’s soulful voice plays through the speakers, the lyrics of his version of “Smile Jamaica”, a balm to the scenes she sees. The soft hum of the music is a reminder of Jamaica, of the days spent looking for peace within herself.

As Julian’s car turns onto their street, the familiarity of the terraced apartments, each baring scars and stories of so many generations, cause Genesis’ heartbeat to pick up, just slightly. Soon, Julian parks and the engine’s cessation marks their arrival, but they just sit for a moment, neither of them making a move to leave, letting the silence between them stretch comfortably.

“Yuh sure you okay?” Julian questions quietly, finally, his voice soft, yet carrying in the small space of the car.

“Yeah.” Genesis’ reply is simple, only a short pause from the question, turning her head to offer a sheepish, closed-lipped, smile.

She then steps out of the car first, the night air flowing against her and Julian follows, leading her up to the door before unlocking it with his key and letting her in.

Ziggy was there to greet them as they enter, his presence almost a larger-than-life force in the modest entry-way. His dreadlocks are tucked into a natural toned beanie, almost framing his head, and his eyes light up when he sees Genesis.

“Gen,” He smiles gently, his arms already open for a hug.

“Zig…” Genesis replies, mustering a small smile as she walks into his embrace, his hug enveloping her easily.

They stay like that for a moment, no words said, just remaining the same, but eventually Ziggy pulls back and he steps out the way for Genesis to get to the stairs, watching as she walks past and she hears his voice say something about going out tonight, though she’s not sure if it’s directed towards her or Julian, or both, but she just keeps walking up.

Her room sits at the sharp turn right from the stairs, finding her door creaked open, and she pushes on it to reveal the chaos that awaits her. She takes in a sharp breath as she steps in, standing in the middle of the mess as she looks around, rubbing the back of her neck in annoyance with herself as she remembers the events coming back to her mind.

She was mad, pissed. She remembers turning to go walk out the room before her anger just took over, slamming her hands into the closet on her right before slamming her shoulder into it and turning to walk back into the middle of the room.

She remembers pulling down the curtains and blinds, the ones that still aren’t there, and she remembers grabbing the broom, because she was using it earlier that day to actually clean, and she just started hitting it into the window, intent on breaking it. When it wasn’t working she swung it like a bat and broke off the tail-end, but she kept going until she did manage to break the window, leaving broken glass all over her carpet.

She threw so much stuff after that, leaving it haphazardly on the floor before turning and kicking at the wall because she was still so uncontrollably mad. She had raised her leg like during knee-ups and just shoved her foot down, stumbling back slightly after the impact, but that didn’t stop her, not even when she paced a little, she continued to kick the same place repeatedly until there was a shoe sized hole there.

And that’s when she dropped to the floor, knees to her chest as she sat against her bed, arms leaning on her knees as her head dropped into her hands, and she broke down into tears, sobbing.

“We repaired the window and the wall.”

Genesis jumps, her heart skipping a beat literally as she’s harshly pulled from her memories, whirling around to find Ragga in the doorway, his presence as grounding as earth itself. He’s always had a way of moving silently, a gentle giant with eyes that seem to see through everyone’s soul.

“Me and Junior…” He continues as Genesis’ hand goes to her heart, taking in a deep breath that almost hurts, and she can’t help but chuckle slightly, turning and looking towards both objects, finding them surely fixed.

“Thank you…” She says after a moment, her voice quiet, carrying the vulnerability she normally doesn’t show out to the world.

“We’re family, Gen. We look out for each other, yeah?”

Genesis gives him a nod of understanding, watching as Ragga leaves, heading towards the stairs and Genesis turns back to the mess, glancing around the space once more, taking in all of her past before starting to clean up.

It’s not until close to midnight that things are back in place, organized, or thrown away. And exhausted from the journey and the emotional toll of the day, Genesis lets herself fall backwards onto her bed. The ceiling above is a blank canvas, stark and unyielding in its simplicity, so different from the complex tapestry of her mind. For a moment, she just lays there, breathing deeply with her eyes closed, grounding, feeling the rise and fall of her chest and listening to the hush of her room.

But soon she opens her eyes, turning her head to the right, her gaze settles on a picture that’s frame is propped up against the soft glow of her crystal lamp. The photograph— black and white, its edges worn from touch before she was able to frame it— is of a man with a joyous smile, dreads tucked under a knit beanie that lays very loosely on his head. His eyes are crinkled with genuine delight as he holds a baby close to his chest. The infant, secured in the safety of her father’s embrace, is oblivious to the depth of the moment now captured forever in time.

And Genesis whispers, a greeting that carries weight of years passed and words unspoken.

“Hi, Baba.”

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

It’s grey and windy in London, as Genesis makes her way to Exmouth Coffee. The city’s waking, the air filled with the familiar cacophony of distant traffic and the talkings from early risers. The smell of coffee from the coffee shops that seem to litter every corner fill her nose, mingling with the city’s exhaust, an urban scene that Genesis has come to associate as home.

As she nears her destination, her pace slows just a little, allowing her to take in the sights and sounds of the city more. It’s so different to her now, how she sees it.

Her eyes also catch sight of Letitia waiting ahead, her silhouette unmistakable against the classical facade of the cafe. Dressed casual, she seems absorbed in her phone, a thumb moving swiftly across her screen, but the soft sound of Genesis’ footsteps on the pavement reach her ears and she looks up, her expression softening, eyes lighting up with a gentle smile.

“Morning.” Letitia murmurs as Genesis gets close, their greeting culminating in a small, affectionate, peck of lips that feel like the final piece of Genesis’ morning clicking into place.

“Morning.” Genesis repeats, her voice low but infused with warmth.

They head inside, the air thick with the aroma of roasted coffee beans and sweet pastries. They both order hot chocolate, rich and decadent, a comforting switch from the usual morning caffeine, though Genesis has never been a coffee person at all.

Sitting at a small, intimate, table, their hot chocolates steam before them as Genesis recounts the previous evening, the homecoming. Letitia listens intently, her hand over Genesis’, offering silent comfort with a gentle rub of her thumb against Genesis’ wrist.

“…I don’t know, it just felt… different.” Genesis continues, her gaze flickering to their intertwined hands.

“A lot’s changed,” Letitia nods slightly, offering the smallest closed-lipped smile.

Genesis nods, a silent agreement, eyes moving to her untouched hot chocolate, a little steam still coming off of it, by surely drinkable by now. Yet, she doesn’t take a sip. And after a moment, Letitia’s grip on Genesis’ hand tightens slightly.

“There’s something I need to ask you.” Letitia begins tentatively, breaking the silence.

Genesis meets Letitia’s gaze, her brows furrowing slightly in curiosity.

“Would you want to come to Portugal with me?”

Genesis’ eyebrows furrow even more at her question, at the randomness of it. She doesn’t understand why she would have to be there, but before she can question it, Letitia continues.

“It’s only for a couple days with a few friends.” Letitia’s voice is hesitant, a touch quieter now. “And… Fidji’s going to be-“

“Your ex?” Genesis cuts her off in question.

“Yes, but-“

“I and I…” Genesis mutters, hanging her head slightly in annoyance, causing Letitia to lean closer.

“Hey, hey, hey, it’s not like that, I promise. This trip was planned months before.” Letitia attempts to plead her case quickly, keeping her tone as calm as possible. “I just… need you there, Gens.”

Letitia’s thumb had paused in its motion, her hand now squeezing Genesis’ gently and Genesis lifts her head, eyes searching Letitia’s worried expression, searching her eyes, looking at her.

She takes a deep breath after a moment, heavy, the weight of the decision weighing down on her chest, yet she still trusts Letitia, just enough.

“I’ll go with you.” Genesis says quietly, but firm, watching as Letitia’s face lights up. “But, to make sure yuh head stays on straight.”

“Nothing about me is straight.” Letitia murmurs in a playful tone, causing Genesis to playfully roll her eyes as Letitia chuckles giddily at herself before Genesis looks to her phone, a reminder that she has therapy in half an hour.

“‘Ight… I gotta go.” Genesis pushes herself up, her and Letitia’s hands finally separating as she grabs her hot chocolate, already in a to-go cup, slinging her bag back across her body. “See you tomorrow, yeah?”

Letitia catches the reluctance in Genesis’ voice and there’s a pang of sadness in her heart, a mixture of her overthinking their conversation and the overall emotion of not wanting Genesis to leave so soon. But she nods, and Genesis leans down slightly, kissing the top of Letitia’s head, on her cornrows before she moves towards the door, and Letitia’s head turns, watching her as she walks outside, turning right, heading opposite of Letitia’s position, the cold air greeting her quickly.

The days leading up to the trip slipped by like sand through an hourglass, each grain a moment of contemplation. Genesis stands before her open crossbody bag, its contents sparse but essential. She’s never been one to overpack, not that she’s ever had too much to work with, a few items of clothing, necessary toiletries, her sketchbook, and her camera.

As the day of departure dawns bright and early, still a grey sky filling the expanse, Genesis feels a flutter of nerves as she walks into the busy airport. Letitia had texted her the meeting point, past security, and after an hour of slow lines, she’s finally able to walk towards the space, her eyes landing on the familiar figure quickly.

Letitia’s presence is a beacon, her excitement palpable even from a distance with a big smile, and as their eyes meet, her eyes light up even more as she quickly closes the gap between them, hugging her tightly.

“I missed you.” Letitia whispers, words muffled by Genesis’ shoulder.

“You just saw me.”

But Letitia just shakes her head and they hold each other a moment longer before Letitia pulls back, taking Genesis’ hand gently, intertwining their fingers, and leading her to where the rest of the group sits, a small circle of mostly unfamiliar faces, yet Letitia doesn’t push any introductions or small talk, just leading Genesis to sit, staying close, her world seemingly shrinking to just the two of them.

The whispers they exchange are soft and intimate, gentle musings, reminiscent of actors sharing a secret joke between takes, a moment of genuine connection in midst of a scripted world. Letitia’s laughter is quiet, a sound that seems reserved just for Genesis in this last week together, her eyes crinkling with genuine happiness. Their shoulders brush together occasionally, a subtle contact that speaks of a mutual desire to remain connected.

And Genesis leans in closer, just a little, her face the same as it was when she arrived, calm, collected, yet her whisper brings a small knowing smile to Letitia’s lips. It’s a dance of dialogue, tender and loving.

Across from them, Fidji observes the scene unfold. The quiet exchanges don’t escape her notice, nor does the gentle way Genesis’ fingers reach up to gently run against Letitia’s cornrows. There’s a familiarity in these gestures, a language of touch and glance that speaks volumes.

Fidji’s glance is sharp, analytical, as if she’s trying to read this new and sudden dynamic. The way Letitia’s head tilts towards Genesis, the soft glow in her eyes. It wasn’t like that when Fidji was the one on her left side. Her lips press into a thin line, and she takes a slow sip of her drink, ice clinking against the glass like a punctuation to her unspoken thoughts. There’s an unmistakeable hint of distaste in her expression that reveals more than any words can, and she looks away before either of them notice, looking back to her sisters as they still continue to converse.

The boarding call for their flight eventually breaks the cocoon around Genesis and Letitia, the group gathering their belongings, the transition from the lounge shifting the energy surrounding them. Letitia stands, her hand slipping into Genesis’ with ease once more.

They join the line, the group’s dynamic subtly shifting at the reality of the departure setting in. Letitia’s hand gently squeezes Genesis’ as she leans in close to her ear, whispering.

“You okay?”

Genesis only nods and soon they finally cross the threshold into the bridge, the tight space bringing them even closer together, their quiet whispers seeming to funnel back to them, a reflection of their words and Letitia’s laughter remains quiet but heartfelt, an affectionate sound that seeps into Genesis’ heart.

Fidji walks several paces ahead, her posture perfect and stride confident, yet there’s a tightness around her eyes, acutely aware of Genesis and Letitia’s closeness from behind her. But she doesn’t look back, her grip on her boarding pass tightening, betraying her seemingly cool exterior, but they don’t notice.

The group files onto the plane, the seats of first-class wide and inviting, something Genesis has never experienced, a promise of comfort and isolation away from others.

They find their seats, beside one another, sinking into them, and Genesis looks around at all that’s available in this small space, and her eyes fall to Letitia, who gives her an almost teasing smile. But Genesis just slowly raises the cover between them, chuckling at Letitia’s playfully offended voice, before stopping, lowering it again, only doing it originally to mess with her.

As the plane eventually begins to taxi, Genesis slouches back in her seat, head resting back, allowing the engine to be her lullaby as her eyes start to fall closed, body still recovering from jet lag, and everything around her fades into darkness.

Suddenly, she sees the expansive field in Guyana, in the distance a fire roaring, casting the sky in an ominous glow. Yet, there’s nothing more.

But a single sound pierces through— the hum. A melody that seems to emerge from the very depths of her mind, the sound leaving the same effect it always does.

It’s a tune laden with emotion and history, yet she still doesn’t recognize it, she doesn’t see it as a thread connecting her to her past, calling to her. It’s just simply there, a calming vibration in the expanse of her subconscious, pulling her gently, leading her deeper in sleep.

As Genesis fades further into the dream, the landscape of which she sees begins to dissolve into shadow and the hum becomes everything, a soothing lullaby carrying her away and into the darkness. And soon, there’s only stillness.

Just the hum and the dark

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

Morning in Lisbon greets Genesis with a subtle shift, one she been observing silently since the night prior, Letitia’s generosity in paying for the suite, now seemingly fostering a sense of entitlement among the sisters, the ease in which they take her kindness as due.

They spent the morning exploring the city’s streets, walking as a group, but Letitia, who was a constant at Genesis’ side the day before, now moves with fluidity ahead, and Genesis’ eyes are on her back as she walks slightly behind Fidji, talking with her quietly and Genesis hears her laugh.

She lags behind, letting the distance grow, a small experiment to test if her absence from the constellation is noticed. But the movement and conversation just continues to move forward without pause, laughter and playful musings rising over the quiet-ish streets.

And Genesis only sighs, maintaining her pace as the pieces in her mind start to connect.

As the day trails on, Genesis notices the same things over and over, Letitia’s personality shifting to a person she’s not even sure she recognizes. It’s been her fear since that night in Milan, maybe even a little before that, and she knew she was going to have to keep an eye on it, and it’s what she expected.

They’re at a club in the night, a little separation in the group, maybe needed. Letitia and her friends are kind of gathered, drinking wine or whatever thing of alcohol is desired at the time, but Genesis remains in her quiet corner.

Letitia’s gaze lingers on Genesis from across the room, watching as she’s engaged in easy conversation with a girl who’s a stranger to them both. There’s an unmistakable tightness that grips Letitia’s heart, an unbidden discomfort at the sight of Genesis’ gentle laughter, even tentative, being shared with someone else. When the girl departs, leaving Genesis in her peace against the wall, Letitia feels the pull towards her, discarding her half-finished drink on the bar, weaving through the crowd towards Genesis.

“Who was that?” Letitia questions, standing close enough now to notice the subtle shift in Genesis’ demeanor.

“Nobody you need to be worried of,” Genesis replies, her voice light, almost teasing, chuckling slightly as she relaxes further against the cool wall.

“And you’re laughing?” Letitia can’t help but add, the tightness in her chest now manifesting in her words.

A beat of silence falls between them, heavy with unspoken thoughts, and Genesis pushes off from the wall and edged toward the exit after a moment.

“I need some air.” She mutters, eyes remaining away from Letitia and heading outside. Yet, she doesn’t get far before she hears Letitia’s footsteps behind her, followed by her voice.

“Where are you going?” Letitia asks, following after her quickly, yet Genesis continues forward. But Letitia soon catches her, moving her body in front of hers, blocking her path.

“Move!” She calls out to her, but Letitia doesn’t budge, and Genesis pushes her back lightly, freezing in her steps. “Move, Tish!”

The reaction causes for Letitia to look at her, eyebrows slightly furrowed towards her, but Genesis’ expression is firm.

“Why you acting like some jealous teenage boy? Now you notice me, eh?”

“You think things changed suddenly? To make you go do that?” She motions to the club.

“Some things definitely changed.” Genesis says bitterly, eyes remaining on Letitia’s. “Whenever you used to do all this, the parties, the clubs, go with all types of people from who knows where doing who knows what. I know why yuh friends leave-“

“They left cause them didn’t like the life.” Letitia’s very adamant, speaking with her hands, but Genesis shakes her head. “What do you want me to do? Just suffer and suffer-“

“We are suffering, I done suffer and you didn’t even know!“ Genesis raises her voice. “Yuh used to come and go, I had to watch you with all those women-“

“And you’re any different?”

In that moment, a sound falls off of Genesis’ lips, a slight sucking sound, audible of distaste and annoyance as she attempts to walk past her again, only to have her bicep grabbed and Genesis swings, her hand coming into contact with Letitia’s cheek, the sound not too harsh, but audible enough to turn Letitia’s head, her hand flying to her cheek as she turns her head back towards her, yet it’s not from pain, but from the surprise of Genesis’ action. A rare break in her always steady composure both of them staring at each other in the tension.

“Who really care for you, Tish? Your ‘friends’… spending all your money, using your likeness…”

In the aftermath of the unexpected contact, a shock runs through both women, an electric current of reality jarring them from the night’s indulgent fantasy.

“You swim in pollution, you get polluted,” Genesis continues, pressing her finger to her chest with conviction, her gesture punctuating her plea. It’s a reminder of their shared values, of conversations that had previously woven the fabric of their bond—conversations about authenticity, integrity, and the seductive danger of losing oneself to a world that takes more than it gives.

Their eyes lock then, two forces of nature caught in a moment of raw honesty. Genesis’ words hanging in the air between them, a stark truth that strips away the veneer of the evening’s glamour.

“We used to talk of this and everything else when you only had a few fancy shirts!” Genesis’s fingers grip the material of Letitia’s jacket, a tactile echo of her words. “It’s time to wake up. Wake up, Tish!”

The air around them is charged with the intensity of the moment. Letitia’s eyes, previously hardened by defensiveness, are now more gentle, the layers of realization and vulnerability blending into a look of awakening. She can see Genesis— not just the woman before her, but the essence of the person she knows, the one who has always dared to speak the truth, no matter how uncomfortable. The one who’s always been there to catch her.

And she can finally see the reality of the life she’s brought onto herself

Increasing overwhelmed and overstimulated, Genesis attempts to pull away, a well of emotions churning inside her, starting to walk off, but Letitia’s instincts kick in quickly. She catches up, reaching out swiftly, her fingers wrapping around Genesis’s forearm, an unspoken plea for her to not react like she did a moment ago. Genesis’ muscles tense in response, her instinct to flee momentarily overwhelming her desire to reconcile, something Letitia can feel.

“Genesis, wait,” Letitia implores, her voice tinged with desperation.

Genesis’s movement doesn’t halt much, though her body language speaks of her inner turmoil. She continues to try and step forward, to extricate herself from the situation, but Letitia isn’t letting her slip away, not now, not like this.

In a fluid motion born out of urgency, Letitia steps closer, her arms encircling Genesis in a firm yet gentle hold.

“I’m sorry,” she repeats, her voice a whisper against the night. “Please.”

Genesis’ natural instinct is to resist, to shake off the hold and find refuge in the quiet streets of Lisbon. She still tries to pull away, her movements born of a reflex to escape confrontation and vulnerability. But Letitia, driven by a sudden clarity of what’s at stake, refuses to let her go again.

“I’m sorry…” Letitia murmurs again, a mantra of reconciliation. “I’m sorry…”

The words reverberate through the small space they occupy, weaving a spell that seems to slow the world around them. Genesis can hear the genuine regret in Letitia’s tone, the vibration of her voice repeating the words over and over in her ear, resonating with a truth that’s impossible to ignore.

And something in Genesis yields, a wall within her crumbling, allowing the sincerity of the moment to seep through the cracks. Her body relaxes against Letitia’s, the fight to pull away diminishing with each shared breath, each whispered word.

In the cocoon of Letitia’s arms, Genesis allows the silence to envelop them, a sanctuary from the night’s earlier chaos, now filled only with the sound of their breathing and the distant melody from the club’s interior.

The embrace becomes their entire world, a haven amidst uncertainty. Letitia’s apologies still continue, even more hushed, hanging in the air, her breath warm on Genesis’s ear, a silent testament to the intensity of the moment.

Genesis soon shifts ever so slightly, her movements delicate but intentional, gently pulling Letitia back enough to see her face, and without a word, Genesis closes the small distance between them, pressing her lips to Letitia’s, shutting up her quiet ramble, grounding her.

The kiss lingers, a slow and gentle mingling that speaks volumes, each soft brush of their lips a reaffirmation of connection and care. And when they finally pull away, there’s a breathless quality to the space between them, as if the air itself is charged with the intensity and tension radiating off of them.

Letitia’s eyes remain closed for a moment longer, savoring the feeling. Genesis’ does as well, brushing a thumb across Letitia’s cheek, tracing the line where her own hand had made contact earlier, erasing any remnants of the night’s earlier tension.

“Don’t lose yourself… yuh hear?” Genesis voices quietly, voice still breathless. “And you do all that again and I’m gone.”

There’s silence between them even as Letitia nods in understanding, relaxing under Genesis’ touch.

Letitia’s eyes flutter open, her gaze looking upon Genesis with a vulnerability that only the raw honesty of love can elicit, the threat hanging in the air between them is a revelation, a crystallizing moment that anchors Letitia to the spot.

They head back to the hotel with fingers entwined, Letitia leading the way to a newly acquired room, a decision made in silent understanding that they need isolation from the sisters, from everything that can intrude on the sanctity of the newfound understanding. She procurers them their own space, a quiet sanctuary where the outside world can be kept at bay, allowing them to be alone with each other and their thoughts.

The room’s dimly lit, the soft glow of bedside lamps casting gentle shadows across the walls, creating a cocoon of warmth and privacy. They lay side by side on the bed, their bodies close but not touching, enveloped in a shared silence that’s as comforting as it is communicative. The tumultuous emotions of the night have given way to a calm understanding, a quiet acknowledgment of the depth of their connection.

As they lay there, the noise of the city seems distant, irrelevant even. The quiet between them, a healing space, a soft fabric woven from threads of tension and tender realization. Letitia soon turns her head to look at Genesis, her eyes conveying the emotions that words can scarcely capture.

“Thank you,” She whispered, her voice barely audible yet clear in the stillness of the room. “Thank you for finding me.”

It’s a simple statement, but laden with meaning—recognition of how Genesis has seen through the facade, has reached past the surface and pulled Letitia back from the brink of losing herself. It’s an acknowledgment of Genesis’s strength, her unwillingness to let Letitia drift away, and her courage in confronting the painful truths.

Genesis turns to face Letitia, their eyes meeting in the semi-darkness, a silent conversation passing between them. She reaches out then, her hand gently brushing Letitia’s cheek once more, a mirror of the earlier gesture that had marked the beginning of their night’s emotional journey.

Her gaze is full of emotion and in the semi-darkness, their eyes lock, communicating more than words ever can. The air around them seems charged with the intensity of their connection, each breath a shared rhythm.

Slowly, almost hesitantly, Genesis leans in, pressing her lips to Letitia’s in a kiss.

And she can feel it. How the woman she knew had returned to her.

#letitia wright #letitia wright fanfic #letitia fanfic #shai’s oc #no woman no cry fic

[my-my-my]

How does (muken) aizen flirt with his crush

This one gave me some thing to think about ahah!

I'm setting this in an AU where Aizen gets exonerated for helping the Gotei 13 during the war.

TW: none! pretty tame

TAGS: @stygianoir

Muken!Aizen is pretty snarky. Although he's polite when he first meets you, a lot of his comments can be seen as passive aggressive.

A lot of people walk on eggshells around him, or they're very rude/dismissive of him. Aizen doesn't care - he knows he deserves this, but he also finds it hilarious ("you of all people, looking down on me?"). You on the other hand, are polite and respectful of him.

But he doesn't mistake this for being subservient or weak. You don't see him as a "higher being", nor as a "lowly criminal", but an equal being - it's something that surprised him. You spoke to him with respect, but not admiration.

He would always use his reiatsu sense to watch over you when he's not around (some creep/stalking habits die hard).

He'd start flirting with you by following up on things you've expressed interest in. He's an observant man, he'll remember everything you told him, even if it was an obscure comment made in passing. You think he's being thoughtful, but that's just who he is inherently.

If you mentioned wanting something, or you were curious to try something? Aizen would get it for you (he can activate KS and just trick the Gotei that he's still in Sereitei).

Aizen's got decades of watching Isshin flirt with Masaki, Gin and Rangiku together, etc., to know what to say to you. He'll say some things here and there that make you flustered - you're always second-guessing yourself around him! He finds this game fun.

But eventually he'd confess. Muken!Aizen would be incredibly honest, so once he's certain of his feelings for you, he'd confess right away. While he's not inherently romantic (he basically had to stalk people to understand how to have game lmao), he wants you to know he'd be there for you.

So much so, you start to sense his reiatsu all the time, it's interweaved with yours. It almost makes you think he's holding your hand or embracing you. It's a constant, yet subtle feeling that you're forever on his mind.

#aizen sousuke #sousuke aizen #aizen sosuke #sosuke aizen #bleach #bleach writings #aizen headcanon #aizen x reader #anonymous #answered

[cock-holliday]

Crazy that we can't send asks from side blogs still in the year of our Tumblr 2023, but re: your tags on my ask: YEAH YOU GET IT.

There's a distinct difference between acting in self defense/needing to protect oneself and others in the face of active violence being inflicted against you and just general revolutionary leftist bloodlust. Like, speaking as someone who both had his feet on the ground and was an at home lifeline for folks on the ground in 2020, I'm explicitly talking about how non-violence and deradicalization efforts should come before the latter, not necessarily the former (imo)

- ftmtftm

So my response went on for ten thousand years so I’m putting it below a readmore under the title of My Thesis on Violence:

Mm speaking from my own experience in 2020 and a good long while before, I think non-violence and violence depend on one another and all these concepts are super subjective. Non-violence doesn’t really work without the looming possibility of violence. Violence without restraint or consideration is dangerous to more than just your enemy.

Ultimately, I think we may differ a bit on what we consider justified or useful violence, and I get the sense I am a good bit more pro-violence than you. I do not think that necessarily makes for a bad combination, as I imagine there is quite a spectrum of opinion on what is “defense,” what is “justified,” and I think “deserves” is a horrible metric to measure anything against.

I am wholeheartedly, one hundred and ten percent against the death penalty. That doesn’t mean I don’t think killing is justified. I think in some cases, too much action is reactive and not pro-active, but then less people are inclined to find that action to be “defensive” or “justified.”

I think many people would agree, even the nonviolent, that if a white supremacist started shooting into a crowd and someone shot back, that shooting was “self-defense.” Would as many find it self-defense if a leftist tracked down a nazi and killed him in his home?

Freddie Oversteegen was a dutch resistance fighter during WW2. There are lots of heroic stories of people hiding Jews, destroying documents, smuggling supplies and people, and blowing up infrastructure. Freddie and her sister? They would flirt with nazis and lead them into the woods for the prospect of sex and then murder them. They also would ride their bicycles past isolated soldiers on the road and kill them. Are these murders defensive, yes or no? Either way, are they justified?

In Germany, an anarchist and her cohorts have been put on trial for having tracked down and beaten neo-nazis. In Germany, France, Greece, England, Scotland, and countless other countries, entire gangs circulated around football/soccer track down and offer nazi ass-beatings. I have found in my experience that the threat of death or an ass beating also pushes nazis out of the circles and away from their groups. Or makes them think twice about their activities.

One good punch to the face pushed Richard Spencer into obscurity, and he became a joke in right wing circles. In groups that circle around domination and superiority, being made to look weak to your peers is a fast-track to ousting.

I have been able to enjoy being as safe from nazis as I have been because when WW2 ended, antifash skinheads, gangs, anarchists, communists, groups like The Red Warriors, and random guys with baseball bats fought them in the streets and in their homes and made them regret hosting meetings. Their history is erased, yet I benefit from it.

The thing is, the only way someone stops being a nazi is de-radicalization or death. I am of the opinion that anyone who wants to renounce their ways and change their path should get the chance. I don’t think it’s a matter of deserving. I don’t think deserving matters, because who I think deserves what will differ from any fellow member of the struggle. I think chances should be given as frequently as possible. Because in my view, it should not be a question between doing nothing or de-radicalizing the nazi. The options are de-radicalize or kill them.

The same, essentially, can be said of cops. A cop would argue anyone who shoots at them is the aggressor and anything the cop does back is defense. I disagree. The cop’s position is already one of attack by his mere existence. A squad car of cops getting blown up will never incur my condemnation nor sympathy. And any cop who wants to quit and renounce his ways should be given the chance.

If a cop was dying in front of me and I alone could save him, I would do absolutely nothing to help. But I also would not fault a medic for rushing to save them either. I don’t find it a weakness, I find it a mercy I was unwilling to dole out.

Nonviolence and de-radicalization have to be acts of mercy not pitiful pleas. The state does not fear non-violence, and they will use it as justification for their own violence just as quick as actual violence, as I and countless others bear the scars to prove. Injustice is violence. Hell, the state itself is violence but that’s a whole other conversation.

Nonviolent marches are good for 3 things: garnering public sympathy, getting a gauge of numbers and showing strength with numbers, connecting people to groups after the event. That’s it.

Non-violence on its own does not change the minds of politicians. Or at least not enough to matter. The passing of legislature, the changing of laws, the shift in social conditions comes from viewing non-violence as the option that keeps those in power safe from violence.

The biggest piece of law regarding labor law in the United States was not passed because of polite bargaining, it was because tycoons and their families were being killed and factories were getting blown up, so sure, we can concede to the petitioners, it is safer.

I do not come from the region of the Coal Wars, from the state with the Homestead Strikes, from a family that escaped slaughter in Europe to think that violence does not have a central place in my politics and my privileges.

It is fitting to have this conversation right now, because the founder of the March of Return, a peaceful demonstration by Palestinians in 2018 where thousands upon thousands of unarmed civilians marched up to the border wall and were massacred by the IOF, has had his family targeted and killed, and now is fighting to stay alive after being bombed.

I think a lot of condemnation of violence is completely needless. I think a lot of what is seen as fetishizing the Revolution is a spark igniting in the fighting spirit of people. Now, my actual issues of fetishizing the Revolution comes from three places: 1. being so in love with the idea of a TV Revolution that you sit and wait for that moment to happen instead of participating. 2. Violence as a cover for domination. 3. Delighting in the idea of becoming the head of the state rather than dismantling it.

The first is pretty self-explanatory. For the second, there are plenty of leftists, often tankies, flexing their antisemitism real hard and pretending it’s liberatory. I cannot express how disappointing it was to be told that everything was just leftist infighting and there was no reason to be concerned about tankies vs anarkiddies, it’s all useless…only to watch groups of leftists cheer on Russian aggression or pretend it was to cleanse Ukraine of nazis. Or watch Nazbols become emboldened by the conflict and invasion. Or deal with the consequences of leftists who will wield the cops against others. For #3, pieces like Against the Logic of the Guillotine sum up how terrifying it is for many groups of leftists to be delighted in the prospect of deciding who gets the guillotine or the wall or the gulag—concepts that will only lead to greater abuse and oppression.

I am against all carceral violence, punitive violence, state violence. The concept of a body sitting down in little suits and calmly carrying out a death sentence on anyone is infinitely more violent to me than blowing up a nazi’s house. Frankly, an eviction where the tenant is calmly lead away from their home is as violent to me as the tenant shooting back at the cops coming to take them away. I do not ever want to replicate the magnitude of calculated violence that a state can produce, nor do I want to be an arbiter for it.

All in all I think violence has a central place in resistence movements of any scale and I think it is too hairy to decide what all is justified, and even in the face of unjustified actions by some I can’t say that I’d condemn a movement for it, even while challenging members of that movement.

I think nonviolence has to be a hand you are extending not because you fear violence as an option but because you don’t.

Not everyone has to be comfortable with violence themselves, but should not needlessly impede violence that is justified or defensive or however you like to frame it. When nazis are on a stage emboldening violence, I think it is not only excusable but required for violence to be an answer. They should be dragged off the stage and get their ass beat. Chants do not make them rethink their stance. Hand-painted signs do not. Violence also may not, but they’ll think twice before showing up again.

I do also sometimes have to laugh at the hypocrisy of those that consider themselves nonviolent who wield a type of violence against the violent you disagree with. In crowds combatting nazis, ‘leaders’ have tried to hand over ‘outside agitators’ to the cops. This is violence. In my opinion, it is much more violent than what was going to happen to that nazi.

On the flip side, many instances of nonviolence are necessary extensions of redemption, and also shouldn’t be impeded or framed as weakness. The very same nazis whose assbeatings I advocate for should absolutely be welcome to utilize de-radicalization resources. No one owes them anything, but they should not be turned away from trying. Again and again and again the offer should stand that they can change their mind and end it peacefully. Can change their ways and stop this. Can be a champion of the people they have hurt.

Because if they don’t, I will not spare a shred of sympathy if someone kills them.

Some pieces on this stance I really like:

This Nonviolent Stuff’ll Get You Killed pdf

Learning from Ferguson

#ask #ftmtfm #violence thesis

[wangxianficfinder]

In the mood for...

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1. Thank you for this wonderful blog!! It's such a fantastic resource and I really appreciate all the work you put into it <3

I'm in the mood for soulmate/arranged marriage/etc. fics where wangxian is paired up and LWJ is not happy about it (at first! happy endings only, please). Maybe he doesn't like that WWX is so boisterous. Maybe WWX marries into the Lan Sect and keeps breaking rules. Maybe LWJ rejects him on principle because he doesn't want a soulmate/arranged match. Anything in that vein! Thank you!! @kirk-spock-in-the-impala

Deconstruct by flowercity (FaoriE) (T, 11k, wangxian, soulmates au, fluff, light angst, pining)

Fated Series by LtLJ (G, 31k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Arranged Marriage, Post-Apocalypse, Magical Apocalypse, Hurt/Comfort, Happy Ending, Canon Diverted via Volcano, YL WWX, Badass LWJ) but it's locked so you have to be logged in to AO3

Neatly Arranged by thunderwear (T, 45k, WangXian,Arranged Marriage, Angst with a Happy Ending, lwj’s mother is here but only briefly, RIP, Shenanigans, Fix-Itof sorts, Canonical Character Death, but not all, did i forget to tag pining, because this fic is like 90 percent pining, Hurt/Comfort)

the river and the sea by sasamelons (T, 7k, WangXian, Soulmates, Arranged Marriage, Misunderstandings, Angst with a Happy Ending, Idiots in Love, Falling In Love, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Mutual Pining)

Rebuttable Presumption by @/sarah-yyy

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2. itmf fics where jc strangling wwx has consequences? i.e. seizures, loss of/impairment of voice, panic attacks, etc that kind of thing?

a star called sun by thelastdboy (E, 120k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Heavy Angst, Self-Worth issues, Amputation, Situational Mutism, Slow burn, Angst with a happy ending)

🧡 the river brought you here by chilianxianzi (Not Rated, 11k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, POV Outsider, Amnesia, Past abuse, Strangulation, Found Family)

Obscuring the Sun by Karmiya (E, 3k, WIP, WangXian, WWX & WQ, WWX & WN, the sunshot campaign, Past Domestic Abuse) only 1 chapter so far

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3. itmf jealous lan zhan pls!! he instantly hates anybody who flirts with wei ying or vice versa. thank you :)

A Heart Needs a Beat  by EmBlu (IcyDeath) (Not rated, 6k, wangxian, modern, misunderstandings, jealousy, ABO, alpha WWX, beta LWJ, oblivious WX,   fluff, omega LWJ)

Snow Burns and Fire Falls by Liebing (T, 12k, wangxian, fluff, fox wangxian, childhood friends, orphans, lan WWX, happy ending, sweet, soft, cute, time jump, jealous WWX, oblivious WWX) 

Bite and Bruise and Bind by ReformedTsundere (E, 4k, WangXian, Modern AU, Anal Sex, Rough Sex, Jealous LWJ, Biting, Friends With Benefits, Or Is it?, Idiots in Love, Pining, Like VERY Slightly Dubious Content, Begging, Blow Jobs, Marking, slight angst, Slight self-loathing, Happy Ending, little bit of crying, Barebacking)

Of Bunnies and Sleeves and All Happy Things by moonwaif (G, 3k, wangxian, mutual pining) 

4 times LWJ was Jealous and 1 time it was WWX by cylnire (T, 3k, WangXian, Jealousy, Jealous LWJ, Jealous WWX, Cute, Funny, Attempt at Humor, Fluff) 

nobody else but me by wqngji (E, 1k, wangxian, smut, jealous LWJ, bottom WWX, possessive LWJ, PWP, fluff & smut)

(there is a jealous lan zhan ao3 tag that the requestor can filter through! these are ones that I've read and liked)

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4. Hello!! I'm in the mood for fics where the Lans are protective of WWX, and are equally dark when someone hurts him. Long fics (at least over 10k words) would be appreciated, but shorts are also fine. Thank you for your time.🐇 @utxqia

Hey this is #4 on the recent IITMF. I was wondering do you have any other recs than "Stunted, Starving Juvenility" for my req? Because it's an amazing fic and I've already read it several time and it's not even completed. I apologise for bothering you 🫣

🧡 Stunted, Starving Juvenility by TomatenMark (E, 548k, WangXian, WIP, Fix-it of sorts, Talisman master WWX, Not JFM Friendly, Study Arc, Getting together, Fluff and Angst, Engagement) I love being able to rec this fic, it's one of my favorites!

Truths Laid Bare For All by Preludian_Staves (T, 40k, wangxian, arranged marriage, not Jiang friendly, truth serum, love confessions, golden core reveal, implied referenced abuse, getting to know each other, genius WWX, falling in love, courting, WIP (hiatus)) these three doesn't have like the dark lans thing in them iirc but hopefully are a good read still!

An Obsidian Among Jades by Blackbeads461 (T, 12k, wangxian, canon divergence, lan WWX, child abandonment, Self-Worth Issues, trauma, BAMF LQR, angst w happy ending, protective lans, found family, politics, not YZY friendly)

Bright Voice Roughly Rendered Softly Silent by Preludian_Staves (T, 26k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, No Golden Core Transfer, Muteness, Hurt/Comfort, Getting Together, Not JC Friendly, Choking, Red String of Fate, Appearances by Paperman!WWX, Inventor WWX, Good Uncle LQR, WWX goes to Cloud Recesses, Feelings Realization, Supportive Lan Family, Genius WWX, Angst with a Happy Ending, Protective LWJ, Protective Lan Family, Character Death (not wwx or lwj))

A Righteous Facade by RenaFair (T, 5k, wangxian, protective lans, mildly dark, JL learns a lesson)

Cluster of Clouds by Nika_Raven_Celeste (T, 20k, wangxian, LQR & WWX, JC & WWX, time travel, post-canon lans time travel, cloud recesses study era, confused WWX, soft LQR, soft LWJ, not JC friendly, not YZY friendly, genius WWX, horny LWJ, oblivious WWX, WIP) again, not a dark one, but hopefully still to your taste

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5. Hey mods! Wondering if you have

a) non-Jiang WWX

b) WWX is tired for being the punching bag for the Jiangs, so he either resent them or left them to go on his own rogue adventures/get adopted by other sects (bonus point if the Jiangs also needed his help in the future that he refused/reluctant to help)

c) although I am a wangxian-heavy reader, I'd also like to read some WWX and WRH moments, bonus points if both WWX and WRH are dominating the cultivation world (slashfic or gen is acceptable!)

d) always a demonic cultivator WWX

e) HuaLian + WWX family

5A)

every cloud has a silver lining by thelastdboy (G, 8k, WWX & Wen remnants, WQ & WWX & WN, wangxian, canon divergence, wen remnants live, WWX pov, wen WWX, friends to lovers, childhood friends wangxian, angst w happy ending, homelessness, volcanoes, earthquakes, natural disasters, genius WWX, healer WWX, pen pals, fluff)

tall as the mountains that sheltered us by thelastdboy (M, 4k, CSSR/WCZ, CSSR & WWX & WCZ, wangxian, canon divergence, CSSR & WCZ live, crack treated seriously, childhood friends to lovers, genius WWX, inventor WWX, bg character death, happy ending, WCZ pov)

Inkstone by PorcelainBlue (T, 7k, WangXian)

5B)

The Debts of a Child Series by Hauntcats (M, 115k, WWX & Jiangs, wangxian, not Jiang friendly, angst w/ happy ending, dark)

5D)

Ad Oblivione by Baph, HikariNoHimeWriter (M, 70k, WangXian, Time Travel Fix-It, Temporary Character Death, Canon-Typical Violence, POV Multiple, Hurt/Comfort, Grief/Mourning, Identity Reveal, Golden Core Reveal, Cultivation World Critical, Not JC Friendly, Abusive YZY, Angst with a Happy Ending)

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6. Hi! This is my first time using this method, but do you know any fics where wangxian time travels and then leaves the sect to become rouge cultivators? It can just be one of them leaving the sect too.

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7. Is there any fics where Wei Wuxian is vegetarian? I know there's plenty of Lan Wangji ones but I want to read one where Wei Wuxian is 🥰 Thank you in advance!

my life's journey is far from over by lastdboy (E, 148k, wangxian, modern, canon divergence, everyone lives au, Madam Lan lives, post-sunshot, selectively mute LWJ, wen remnants live, LWJ saves the Wens, whipping, neurodevergent LWJ, stimming, hurt/comfort, angst, coming of age, slow burn, recovery, mental health issues, references to depression, single parent WWX, eventual smut)

star, sweet, treasures by handwritten (onefromanotherworld) (G, 2k, WangXian, Fluff, Family Fluff, Winter Solstice, Dongzhi Festival, Modern with Magic) it's very blink and you'll miss it but vegetarian wwx is there

Seen and not heard by eatmyass (E, 51k, WangXian, Case Fic, No Sunshot Campaign, AU in canon setting, Kid Fic, dadxian, Strangers to Lovers, Found Family, POV LWJ, Pining, Sharing a Bed, Fake/Pretend Relationship, First Time, Falling in love in metaphors) I believe it's more out of necessity than ideology but I think it counts

So You Accidentally Kidnapped A Qilin by Mikkeneko (T, 83k, WangXian, Juuni Kokki | Twelve Kingdoms Fusion, yzy's a+ parenting, Identity Issues, Cultivator Politics, Yin Iron Poisoning, Most people live, by 'most people' i mean xy lives, Twin Prides of Yúnmèng Feels, JC & WWX Reconciliation, Mutual Pining, Miscommunication, Getting Together, Temporary Character Death, Happy Ending, Pacifist WWX)

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8. Cuddle fics. I am on the hunt for the most emotionally fluffy and domestic and sweet cuddle fics that exist, please. It is a very Mighty Need. Please and thank you!! (also, tysm for keeping this blog going like you have!) @amynchan

Just You, Just Me (Just Us, Just We) by wincechesters (E, 19k, WangXian, Modern AU, Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff, Pining, Misunderstandings, professional cuddling, now with added papapa, Anal Sex)

rain. you are here. by thelastdboy (G, <1k, wangxian, pov WWX, rain, insomnia, fluff)

Stargazing (and a bit of rain) by handwritten (onefromanotherworld) (G, 984, WangXian, Fluff, Family Fluff, Family Bonding, Modern with Magic, Slice of Life)

💖 hello my old heart, how have you been? by ravenditefairylights (M, 10k, wangxian, post-canon, temporary amnesia, hurt/comfort, fluff, trauma, pining, hair washing & brushing)

Linger in the Sun by etymologyplayground (E, 39k, WangXian, Case Fic, Intimacy, Curses, Canon Compliant, Post-Canon, Cuddling & Snuggling, Getting Together, Romance, Sexual Tension, Scent Kink, m.. maybe??, its not as intense as a kink, wwx Loves To Teach, Fluff, Scars, Sharing a Bed, Nonverbal Communication)

💖 You, Asleep and Dreaming by etymologyplayground (M, 9k, wangxian, post-canon, 5+1. LWJ pov, sharing a bed, cuddling & snuggling, intimacy, getting together, fluff)

A-Zhan is Three by westiec (T, 1k, LXC & LWJ, wangxian, post-canon, twin jades of lan dynamics, LXC in seclusion, hair braiding, sleepy cuddles)

2:08AM, softly by astronicht (T, 1k, wangxian, modern, cuddling, pre-relationship)

do you mind if i stay by perfectlyrose (G, 2k, wangxian, modern, hurt/comfort, non-sexual intimacy, cuddling & snuggling, pre-relationship)

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9. Hi mods!! For the next itmf can I ask for fics where WWX isn't all that sane? Like, he comes out of Burial Mounds a little bit crazy? Or even after MXY makes the ritual. Not crazy as in YL-murdering-everyone crazy (but I'm fine with that too), more like he isn't completely aware of what he does or where he is (maybe hallucinations and hearing voices?) and his siblings and LWJ take care of him (or the juniors). I want some family fluff and angst with wei ying not being ok and being cared for, just no JC or LXC bashing, please. Thank you!!! @jiangclaritybell

Helping Yourself by nirejseki (Not Rated, 1k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Temporary Amnesia, Short-Term Memory Loss)

You are what you eat by deliciousblizzardshark (E, 17k, wangxian, graphic depictions of violence, major character death, canon divergence, eldritch WWX, horny LWJ, body horror, possession, cannibalism, teeth, gore, fluff and humor, eldritch horror, smut, dead WWX, implied/referenced torture)

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10. Hii, do you know any fics where A) wwx is adopted by hualian from tgcf? B) Or a fic where basically everyone is protective over wwx while he thought his wellbeing didn't matter? Thankss

10A)

Hua Xianle by Tiffany_Guinne (Not rated, 112k, hualian, wangxian, TGCF, canon divergence, not Jiang friendly, madam lan lives, WWX adopted by hualian, WWX with different name, overprotective hualian, hurt WWX, WIP)

Love Like You by HisRedEmpress (T, 88k, WIP, HuaLian, XuanXuan, WangXian, Families of Choice, Family Fluff, Hualian adopts WWX, Love at First Sight, Post-Canon TGCF, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Genderfluid SQX, HC and HX are bros, TGCF Spoilers, Not so accidental baby acquisition, Canon Divergence, POV Multiple, Angst and Feels, Pining LWJ, Is it slow burn if Wangxian technically didn't meet until chapter 12, Slow Burn)

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11. hi! i went through basically all the truth serum/curse/mirror/etc as well as telepathy, core reveal, body swap fics ahaha but i still feel like there are ones im missing!!! i just want ppl to shake wwx for his secrets (homelessness, treatment by mdm yu, burial mounds, core, anything!!) and then care for him about it. im sure people came up with a bunch of creative premises that i couldnt find.. thank you so much 💚💚

~*~

12. Hi, I would like a wangxian fic where madam yu marries Wei wuxian to lans for alliance and think Wei wuxian won't be happy but is shocked and hates seeing him happily married

Alliance AU by Ilona22 (E, 17k, wangxian, ABO, arranged marriage, intersex omegas, canon Jiang family dynamics, not JC friendly, matchmaking, night hunts)

~*~

13. im the mood for lbh hc and wy as siblings. wy is the youngest and lbh and hc are so protective of him @ooosamness04

~*~

14. Are there any really good fics that has Jin Ling and WWX family bonding?

Rotten Work by ShanaStoryteller (Not Rated, 63k, WangXian, WWX & JL, Post-Canon, Protective WWX, Protective JL, Yunmeng Bros Reconciliation, Reluctant Matchmaker JL)

Linger by the Door (I’ve Always Been Yours) by piecrust (T, 78k, wangxian, slow burn, canon compliant) Wwx travels around and makes homes post Canon, including with Jin ling

An Evening Well Spent by Admiranda (G, 2k, WangXian, Post canon, Fluff, Canon Compliant, wwx and jl bonding, Drunk LWJ)

of past and present by Here_For_This (This_Rocks_My_Socks) (T, 6k, JL & WWX, wangxian, underage drinking, implied/referenced child abuse, implied/referenced torture, not JC friendly, implied/referenced character death, self-care, hopeful ending)

~*~

15. hi! can i request some recs for fics of Nielan (exclusive) where it shows Nie Mingjue just being absolutely smitten with Lan Xichen 🥺 @makkachiin

~*~

16. hii!!! for an iitmf, i’ve been wanting to read something lan jingyi centric; he’s just too under appreciated!! (i’ve already read “The One Body Problem” and “Lan Jingyi’s Sixth Sense” so they don’t need to be recommended). :D

Give Me A Reason by useless_slytherclaw (M, 251k, ZhuiYi, heavy angst w happy ending, post-canon, friends to lovers, pining, violence, night hunts, travel, death, PTSD, dreams & nightmares, rogue cultivator LJY, injury recovery, Love confessions)

Why Not Me? by Eleanor_Fenyx (G, 26k, LJY & LQR, LQR & LWJ, LJY & LSZ, LJY & LWJ, good uncle LQR, LJY pov, war orphan LJY, character study, LJY has ADHD, found family, rejection sensitivity dysphoria)

The Best I Can by Zephyr (ZephyrAndTheSilverfish) (T, 26k, LJY & WWX, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Light Angst, Drama, Recovery, Coming of Age, Secret Identity Fail, Friendship, Rogue Cultivator LWJ, Road Trips, Sort Of, POV Multiple, Happy Ending) has 2 jingyi pov chapters, and it's also lovely

~*~

17. hi, do you know any fics where everyone is just mesmerised by how pretty Wei Ying is and I mean everyone, but Wei Ying only ever pays attention to Lan Zhan, making everyone else super jealous.

For the Sake of a Smile by Reikosama7716 (Not Rated, 94k, WIP, WangXian, Minor everyone/WWX, CSSR/WCZ, Older!WWX, Oblivious WWX, Top LWJ, Jealous LWJ, Possessive LWJ, Protective!JC, JZX's Attempt in Public Confession, WWX and his ducklings, Everyone is young and gay for WWX, WWX and Jiāng siblings are cousins, Canon Divergence, Implied/Referenced Character, Death Third wheeling of unfortunate sect disciples, Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies, Disciples peeking at WWX, Cinnamon Roll WN, Shameless WWX, Implied "Everyday is everyday", Sect Leader WQ, JYL being dark and maybe a secret sadist?)

~*~

If you didn’t get an answer to your ask here, don’t forget to make use of @mdzs-kinkmeme and MDZS KINK MEME on Dreamwidth. Authors actually do use them for ideas. You may get what you order!***Your prompt doesn’t have to be kink! Fluff, crack, whatever - it’s all good!***

#wangxian #mdzs #wangxian fic recs #i'm in the mood for a fic #the untamed #wangxian fic search #wangxianficfinder #long post

[six-demon-bag]

Crash Landing

Pairing: Bucky Barnes/Helmut Zemo

Summary: His forest and his dog are all Bucky needs for company, content to stay in his remote mountain cabin and barely interact with anyone at all. An unusual man crashing into his forest, unconscious and injured brings new things into Bucky’s life.

Rating: Explicit

Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, mountain man bucky, rich danger zemo, Caretaking, Flirting, but also flirting failures, Pining, Anal Sex

Word count: 8222

Link: Crash Landing

Excerpt:

He picks his way down, watching the fire chewing its way around the engines warily. There’s a spray of holes along the side and he pauses to run a finger over the sharp edges. Bullet holes. Someone shot this plane, likely before it took off, and damaged it enough the pilot couldn’t make it past the mountains. The reminder of the pilot turns Bucky to the mangled cockpit. Goat barks a question, and Bucky grimaces. He shouldn’t stay close to this wreck for long in case the fire reaches the fuel tanks. The glass is spiderwebbed with cracks and he can’t make anything out inside the cockpit. No one responds when he taps on it, and he hopes there’s not someone about to shoot at him. It takes a lot of effort to rip the canopy off. He tosses it to the side and peers down into the tilted cabin. There’s only one person inside, crumpled across the seat and a long dark coat obscuring most of his body from Bucky. His head is turned away and facing down, hair hanging as limply as the rest of him. He’s clearly unconscious.

#winterbaron #i h8 titles #have this whatever #sixdemon fic

[empyrean-demise]

Hello there!

[Plain text: Hello there! /End ID]

[Image ID: A bunch of white jagged lines, with the top teeth of a dog in the center.]

I'm Aven, although I'm also known as OCTAfan (Or just Octa for short). I also go by Electra, Sprite, Elve or Lorelei, although I don't mind if you don't use those names. I use they/it/he/she pronouns, as well as a lot of neos, but those are optional.

I'm a minor, so if that makes you uncomfortable, please leave. I'm also Aroace and don't like flirting that much, so keep that in mind too! As for gender orientation, I'm Gendervoid and Xenogender (Manistatic and Dark Grimstaric, both are my coins).

We also realised that we're a system! Aven is the host, and we collectively refer to ourselves as Paraluxx Nebula.

More stuff about me under the cut:

[Image ID: A bunch of white jagged lines, with the bottom teeth of a dog in the center.]

As said in the Blog's bio, this is my Alterhuman blog! Usually for my fictotype, but I have others! Here's a list!

Kintypes

[Plain text: Kintypes /End ID]

Aven (Worldless)

Thunder manifestation (Genshin Impact)

Jersey Devil

COCOON (2023) Protagonist's species

Runalong (*Moth, not Aven)

Fictives

[Plain Text: Fictives /End ID]

Edda (Worldless/ Canon divergent)

Angel (Worldless/ Canon divergent. Goes by "Starfall")

Summum (Worldless/ Canon divergent. All the Worldless characters are from the same source as Aven fictotype (?), which is known as "Paraluxx Verse" for easy reference)

Moth (Literally a canon Worldless moth...)

Aven/ Umbro (Worldless: Duality AU fictive. He's unfortunately from a fanfic so now we're freaking out about this as of 1/4/2024 as to whether or not to tag the Author of said fic here)

Edda/ Akari (Worldless: Duality AU fictive)

Icarus (Worldless: Duality AU fictive. Was the light warden)

V2 (Ultrakill/ slightly canon divergent?)

Protagonist (OCTAHEDRON: Transfixed Edition/ Goes by "Veetragoul")

Hearttypes

[Plain text: Hearttypes /End ID]

Pari (Genshin Impact)

Thylacine

Hearthomes

[Plain text: Hearthomes /End ID]

Creepy Grasslands/ Midwest Gothic-eque settings

Almost all realms from Worldless

Veetragoul (OCTAHEDRON: Transfixed Edition)

Kinsidering/ Fictionflicker (?)

[Plain Text: Kinsidering/ Fictionflicker (?) /End ID]

No one at the moment!

The vast majority of these (With the potential exception for Aven) are psychological in nature, since I'm potentially neurodivergent (ASD).

Anyways, you'll be seeing a lot of memes, ramblings, art, pictures and more here! I might also post my requests for stimboards and stuff here, but I'm not too sure.I'm not comfortable with interacting with everyone, so here's a DNI... as well as a Please Do Interact (PDI?!)

DNI

[Plain Text: DNI /End ID]

Terfs, transphobes, etc

Lgbtphobes, racists, exclusionists, etc

Ableists

Pro-shipper or anti-anti

MAPS, anyone who is attracted to minors

NSFW/18+ only blogs

Participate in cringe culture

Anti voidpunk (furries, alterhuman, etc)

Discourse

Is generally a bad person

Please Do Interact

[Plain Text: Please Do Interact /End ID]

Other fictionkins, especially Worldless ones!

Starkins

Other peeps with obscure kintypes

Literally any alterhuman peeps

Worldless fans

Fellow Astronomy enjoyers

Literally anyone who's interested in my rambling

Oh! I almost forgot! Here's my tag list:

Tag List

[Plain Text: Tag List /End ID]

Avenposting - Whenever I talk

Aven's art - My drawings and stuff!

Aven's Writing - For any poetry, fanfic (?!) or other writing stuff that I might post here?

Aven's pictures - Aesthetics images that are made by me

Aven Answers - For inbox stuff

Solarstorm starfolk - For Aven stuff/ Aesthetics

Thunderous Rage - For Thunder Manifestation stuff/ Aesthetics

Pine Barrens Thing - For Jersey Devil stuff/ Aesthetics

Geometric Moth-Critter - For COCOON protagonist's species (Atimoth?) stuff/ Aesthetics

Electric Grace - For Edda stuff/ Aesthetics

Starfallen Seraph - For Starfall (Angel) stuff/ Aesthetics

Starwards Heights - For Summum stuff/ Aesthetics

Shadowy Starmoth - For Moth stuff/ Aesthetics

Fatal Ordeal - For Duality! Aven stuff/ Aesthetics

Choosen Arrow - For Duality! Edda stuff/ Aesthetics

Guardian Seraph (Holy Spear) - For Icarus stuff/ Aesthetics

Crimson Robot-Angel - For V2 stuff/ Aesthetics

Geometric Ascension - For Veetragoul (OCTAHEDRON Protagonist) stuff/ Aesthetics

Endling Corinna - For Thylacine stuff/ Aesthetics

Little Bird-spirit - For Pari stuff/ Aesthetics

Cryptic Fields/ Hidden Forests - For Midwest gothic- eque hearthome stuff

Beyond the Cosmos/ At the Beginning - For Worldless Realms hearthomes stuff

Underground Realm/ Arcade's Light - For Veetragoul hearthome stuff

Potentially triggering stuff would be tagged as "tw [Blank]".

Anyways, that's it for now! I might add on to this post if I forgot about anything.

Dividers credit: 🔶️

Icon credit: Made by Me

Banner credit: Ending cutscene of Worldless.

#Avenposting #Alterhuman #Fictionkin #Starkin #< by technicality #Otherhearted #hearthome #Ask to tag #Long post #Tw teeth