#And even if she had cried they'd have mocked her for it so

[persefoneshalott]

fantine laughing along with them because she can't deal with what happened until later :''

#I relate #Les mis letters #Les mis #And even if she had cried they'd have mocked her for it so #Thinking about the italian adaptation where she keeps laughing and you can see she's destroyed

[romeosharpae]

“SAVE YOUR TEARS”

theodore nott x reader

content warning : extremely toxic relationship, cursing, public sex, mature language, explicit adult content, rough sex?, degrading, theodore nott x female reader, oral (f receiving), toxic! theodore nott.

parts : 1,2,

You're sure that if you were to ask anyone with common sense what they thought about you and Theodore Nott's relationship, they'd say it should be against Wizarding law.

"I don't want to talk!" You reprimanded, folding your arms over your chest with a huff. Theodore Nott simply rolled his dead-like blue eyes at your enraged lie.

Looking up at him, you could've sworn a twisted smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. "C'mon baby, you're hurting my feelings." He mocked your soft voice.

"You don't have feelings." You mumbled, frustration growing in your voice. Theodore lowly chuckled, leaning his face down to kiss you but you turn away. "Get off of me, Nott, I need to go to Transfiguration."

Theo wrapped a veiny hand around your forearm when you tried to push past him, pulling you back to the stone wall. This time Theodore placed both his hands aside your head, trapping you between him and the wall. From the look on his pale face, you could tell that he knew you were still upset.

But how could you not be?

"Go back to wherever you were last--" Theodore scoffed loudly, drowning out the seething words leaving your lips.

"Are you kidding me?" He snapped. Even though you hated when he used that tone towards you, you weren't to back down. No, you were not about to apologize to Theodore and end up on your knees seconds later just to stop his yelling this time around.

"Funny. Those are the same exact words I repeated last night as I waited around thirty minutes for you." You shot back.  "You know, Theodore.. I really do hate y--"

"Watch your mouth." He warned.

"What's her name, huh?" You continued. Theodore's jaw clenched from anger. He can handle every insult you threw his way, but Theodore really hated when you accused him of being with someone else. "Is it Greengrass? She didn't learn from the last time I dragged her by her root--?!"

You recalled the last time one of Theodore's hook-ups confronted you, and the amount of Slytherin's it took to get you off of her. As previously said before, you were a sweet girl, but the side of you that Theodore brought out, wasn't as friendly or sweet..

"Shut up, you're not even that type of girl." Oddly enough, Theodore was right, you were not the type of a girl to threaten to physically hurt someone, especially over him. The more you thought about it, the more stupider that you sounded by saying that.

You were so stupid.

Had you not been stupid you wouldn't be in this predicament with the emotionless Slytherin brunette. You would've ran for this hills the moment he made it clear your relationship was just a friend-with-benefits dynamic, knowing you wanted more. Theodore knew you were stupid, so vulnerable, and he took advantage of that.

And that made your eyes began to well with tears, eyesight becoming blurred. Before you could even get the chance to control yourself, you began sobbing loudly. How could it even be possibly to hate someone yet love them as much as you do Theodore Nott?

Lucky for your image, everyone else was in class, or you would've looked like a complete maniac to the bystanders.

"Fuck..." Theodore deeply exhaled. The sobbing only became louder as he wrapped his arms around your figure, the heat from his body which was usually comforting seeming insufferable. "What's wrong..? What did I do?"

"Everything!"

You pushed yourself away from him, completely catching your lover off guard. During the years that you've known each other, never have you pushed him away. Even if he was the reasoning behind your distress, you still allowed him to comfort you.

"My best friend hates me!" You cried out, sadness easily detected in your tone. "She won't even talk to me!"

"Why would she hate you?"

Hate was complete exaggeration and you definitely knew that. Hermione Granger actually doesn't hate you. But you don't doubt for a moment she was extremely upset and disappointed with you; You, and everybody else could see the anger on her face when Theodore walked with you, hand-in-hand, inside the Great hall the morning following your rekindling at the Black lake.

"Umm, because I keep putting myself in the same unhealthy situation with you--" You said the obvious and your voice cracks.

Unhealthy situation (toxic).

Despite you being upset in the moment, you knew to avoid having Theodore's patience with you snapping, you shouldn't call it that.

He hated when you or outsiders would name your relationship that.. He claimed that although it had its flaws-way more than the common couple, it wasn't toxic.

But it was!

"Merlin." Theodore hissed, irritated. "Why does it matter what she thinks, Y/N?" Theo's continued rambles make you frown. "Granger and Weasley can not even admit they like each other--Why would she even care?"

"Because she's my friend!"

You could tell he wished she wasn't..

"Friends care about each other, Theodore. Unlike you and yours, me and Hermione are not just friends because it makes us look good." You started hypocritically, and a small frown spreads on the brunette's lips. "So of course she's not going to want me to be with someone who treats me like.. crap!"

You were telling the actual truth. The little patience that he had for you during your outburst has fully vanished as he grabbed the back of your neck, harshly forcing you to look into his dark blue eyes. "Don't say that, Y/N."And you could see the anger rising in his face although he had no right to be mad,

Hermione would tell you that the worse part about you and Theodore's situation was that you knew he disregarded your emotions yet you still went back. It ashamed you how Theodore had you wrapped around his finger. And you fully knew that a toxic relationship was bad enough, but it was even worse if both parties knew the reality of it.

And perhaps that's what led you sob even louder in the moment. Or why you wrapped your arms around Theodore, letting your emotions off into his chest. The brunette's hands slides up from your neck into the back of your head, rubbing you in comfort.

"Aren't the two of you suppose to be in class right now?" Flinch, who guarded the corridors questioned nastily.

If looks could kill, Flinch would be unresponsive on the ground from the way that Theodore turns to glare at him. You pulled away from him, despite the protest your body was giving you, and wiped your tears. There's Concern is written over the squibs face as he watched pull yourself together.

Your attempt to walk away and to Transfiguration fails against when Theodore repeated his earlier action by pulling you back to him. "Stop crying." Theodore's large hands cups your face, bringing you to meet him in a gentle yet powerful kiss.

Merlin, you really hated Theodore, just everything about him. But unfortunately for your sanity, you found yourself loving those same things undefinably.

Did Theodore Nott love you?

You found it sad that you knew the complicated answer to that overly question.  Yet here you were standing, knuckles practically forced between your lips, one leg pressed into the wooden bookshelf as Theodore ate you out like a starved man.

His tongue was roughly swirling against on your clitoris, annually sucking up the juices he earned from you. Your heart was beating rapidly, chest heaving up and down. And you didn't know weather this adrenaline rush was from the pleasure you were feeling or because you were in the schools library.. Or because on the other side of the bookcase was Harry Potter and Hermione Granger.

A person who Theodore had just wrongly accused you of flirting with and wanting to fuck, and the other who probably wishes upon a well that you'd leave him alone. Clearly, the brunettes motives behind wanting to take you right here were clear. And had he not preformed a silencing charm on the two of you, your sure they would've heard your whining and his sucking, slurping, and curses. But a silencing charm wouldn't have stopped someone, anyone, from walking by and seeing the two of you in this obscene state, and that makes you throb, lowly moaning.

"Theo--" You sob.

Theodore growled against your wet flesh, bringing your body closer to him by the hand that he had on your waist. "You want more?"

Despite it being so sick, you nod.

And you knew the sickness behind this situation was what caused that large smile to smile across his full pink lips. He pushed your leg further back into the bookshelf, allowing himself more access before burying his face in-between your thighs once again.

You were absolutely terrified of what would happen had somebody saw you like this, vaginal area on display as the same boy you'd just been fighting with in the courtyard made a embarrassing mess out of you, the rumors that would be spread about you would tarnish your reputation for sure.

You squeeze your eyes shut, butting down further on your knuckles as you roll yourself against his pleasuring tongue.

You could feel your release approaching, probably only one tongue swipe away from getting it out of you. But Theodore ripped his mouth away from you, like you did not deserve your release, and it's gone with the wind. He was such a tease, and you really hated that. Theodore slapped your hand away when you tried to pull his head back between your thighs. Theodore stands to his feet, towering over your height like a tree as usual, and you watched as his fingers frantically went to unbuckle his belt. The desperation clear, the burning fire, behind his eyes as he started at you lets you know that Theodore Nott was seriously about to fuck you until were completely incoherent.

Harshly, Theodore manhandled you around until your back was facing him. Now, your chest was pushed up against the cold bookshelf and due to a few missing books, you could currently see both Hermione and Harry sitting down at a table, studying. Had one of them looked up and stared in your direction, your sure they'd see your face. This makes you hiss out, wanting to look away but Theodore roughly grabbed your jaw, keeping you in place before you could even get the chance.

"Hold it," He breathed out, and without a second thought you scrunched up the plaid school skirt you wore in your hands. Your breath hiked, "'He's no good for you, Y/L/N'" Theodore gritted in your ear, mocking your best friend. Before you could defend her honor, you felt him buried deep inside of you.

"Why don't you fuck my other best friend instead?" Your body knocked into the bookshelf at every hard thrust he gave you. From the way Theodore had you stretched around him your jaw drops, a strangled moan escaping from it loudly. "But you'd like that wouldn't you? He's what you want?"

You would admit that Harry Potter was an attractive boy. He was nice to you, always offered to help you with things, or walk you back to your house after class. And to say that you never thought he liked you would be a lie. But why would you want anything to do with Harry when you had Theodore?

Your eyes squeezed shut. At your lack of response to his question, Theodore pounds into you painfully harder, no doubt realizing that you are actually thinking about the question. "But I'm what you need, Y/N. He can't ever do the things that I do to you, remember that." You whine like a neglected infant at that, for more perhaps?

You stand up on you are tipped toes, attempting to brush an little bit of the pleasuring pain you were feeling but Theodore wasn't going for it. He wrapped his hand around your throat, forcing your back to his chest, whispering harshly in your ear, "Stop running, Take it."

Your pull your lower lip between teeth, attempting to stop yourself from screaming as you finally came undone. Tears began to fall from your glistening eyes, landing on the white button up blouse that were wearing.

Theodore ruts himself into you even harder, holding you in place by your throat to get himself off and nearly cutting off your airway. Although you didn't entirely mind.

As previously said, you enjoyed everything Theodore Nott had to offer you, even the not exactly mentally sane stuff. Theodore finally pulled himself out of you, and you were that he was about to finish. That was until he spun your around to face him, placed his hands underneath your kneecap, and hauled you up. Without even having to be asked,  you wrapped your legs around his waist.

You also took Theodore's lips into yours without having to be asked. Your trembling hands catered his face, tongue sliding over his in an extremely sloppy manner.

But the kiss was disconnected, your teeth baring with a hiss when he slips back in you. Theodore was pace was different this position, a lot more slower and deep, almost meaningful. "You think he'll still like you if he saw us?" He challenged, panting heavily.

"You wouldn't even care, would you?" He chuckled, giving you a smile that displays all his pretty pearly white teeth. "Because I'm all you need, right?"

You nodded your head, agreeing.

"Merlin Nott, you're such asshole!"

You had not even realized that you were crying.. not until you felt Pansy Parkinson hands brush against your cheeks. Her other hand was on your back, attempting to soothe you but it was failing to work.

Theodore looked at you with dead eyes. Yet even then you could see the amusement behind them, almost taunting you. And that made you that much angrier. You picked up an object from the table, launching at the brunette. "I...I hate you! S-So much!"

Theodore dodged it, the same way he does every time you tried throwing something at him while arguing. "Crazy little bi--"

Crazy?

Truthfully, you were in disbelief at the word that just escaped Theo's mouth. How dare he have the nerve to say you were behaving crazy? How dare he? Not when Theodore just basically called you clingy and told you to fuck off in front of his friends.

The embarrassment hurt just as bad as any other time he denied your relationship in and out closed doors. How could he just call things off whenever he felt like it? And you realize that you gave him that confidence by crawling back each time he did.

You're the reason that Theodore felt so comfortable treating you like something off the bottom of his shoe whenever he felt like it. And who was to say that that would change if there was a label on your situation?

"Why do you keep doing this to me?!" You spoke to him and his jaw clenched. "Merlin What did I do to deserve this?" You cried more to yourself this time.

Ever since you welcomed Theodore back in your life at the Black Lake, you have found your self crying so much more. Why did you have to love someone so nonchalant? So evil Why couldn't you love someone like Harry.. or even Draco Malfoy would be better.

Anything was better than someone that was selfish like Theodore Nott. You have dug yourself into this to insane misalliance because you have allowed him to be so selfish with your love that he didn't even deserve.

“Y--You don’t even deserve me...” You admitted said to him, sniffling. “So hey Nott, fuck you.” You wanted to launch something else at Theodore, shout, cry some more but that was the reaction that he wants from you. “Fuck you, Theodore Nott!” His jaw clenched at those words, expression twisting.

He wanted to see you insane at his hands, break yourself until you had other choice but to come to him comfort.

You snatched yourself out of Pasny’s grip, Theodore wore an expression that you couldn’t quite read because it’s so unfamiliar. Regret? Confusion? You couldn’t tell.

And for that you could not contain yourself from throwing a pillow at him. “You will never find someone better than me!”

You both knew that.

Then you breathlessly laughed, “And that’s disappointing because you’ll never ever have me again, Theodore Nott.”

Part four >>>

#smut #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott #harry potter #hogwarts #lorenzo zurzolo #theodorenott smut #theodore nott fanfiction #cherries #theodore nott x you #theo nott #hogwarts legacy #hogwarts oc #theodore nott smut #hp fandom #hp fanfic #slytherin

[rogueddie]

Steve felt numb. There had been such a strong mix of good news and bad news and Steve didn't know how to deal with any of it.

Max is alive. Sort of. She's brain dead, which Steve understands as her just being dead. A beating heart doesn't change the fact that she, Max, isn't there anymore.

She's just a body with a beating heart, everything that made her Max is gone. The scolding looks, mocking tone she'd take, the way she'd put on a silly voice and call Steve 'Dad' whenever he worried over her too much. The way she sometimes called him Dad like she meant it, like she genuinely saw him as a father figure.

The way she would insist on him driving her to school and playing some of Billys mixtapes. The way she had cried when she told Steve how guilty she felt for loving Steve, the way she should have loved Billy.

But Eleven keeps trying to bring her back. Every day she goes back to that hospital room, holds onto Max with a bruising grip, trying to bring her back.

And Eddie. Steve still isn't sure how he'd been able to drag him out, running on pure fear and adrenaline. Somehow they'd gotten him to a hospital in time, they'd been able to stitch him together- but it's still touch and go. He's so severelly injured and they have him on so many drugs that, even when he's awake, he's not really. There's so much internal damage too that the doctors can't be sure he'll make it.

But he's alive. He's still fighting through it. And they're clearing his name. Hopper and some agents, working relentlessly on alibis and redirecting the blame. Its hard work, but it's working. And it's good news, Eddie will finally be seen as the good guy he is. But he's still potentially dying.

And Steve is so tired. He doesn't even have the energy to be worried when he sees his parents car in the driveway.

He stops when he finally gets inside though, blinking at the three suitcases he'd be given for travelling, clearly stuffed full. "Uh. Hello? Mom?"

It's his dad that storms in, expression thunderous. He's holding the vest Eddie gave him, waving it like it's damning evidence. "Did you think we wouldn't find out? You and that freak, Munson."

Steve stares at him for a moment. He's so tired, he's ran out of... everything. He doesn't even feel angry. Doesn't even feel irritated enough to roll his eyes. Simply sighs, holds hand ok, giving a defeated, "ok."

"Ok? That all you have to say for yourself?"

"Yeah, pretty much. I'm tired."

His dad scoffs, throws the vest at him as hard as he can. "Go find some hole to crawl inside of then. Change your name."

Steve puts the vest on, ignoring the way his dad flushes red, veins bursting out with his rage. He struggles to get all three suitcases in his hands, but he manages. "Mom not here?"

"She deserves better than what you've become," he sniffs, looking down on him.

"She deserves better than a cheating husband who doesn't love her." He glances to the kitchen. Raises his voice a little, just enough for anyone downstairs to hear him say, "she doesn't know about your secretary though, huh?"

He makes his leave as quick as he can, already sat in the drivers seat by the time his dad storms outside, yelling.

He spends that night in Eddies hospital room. Eddie even makes room for him to curl up next to him- it's a little awkward with the tubes and wires, but they manage it. The nurses aren't happy when they find them, their limbs tangled up together.

Robin looks painfully amused when she finds him sat on the floor outside the hospital, barely stopping herself from laughing when he explains that he was kicked out. She's not as happy when she finds out that he's homeless now but, like Eddie had told him, he has plenty of options.

It's only an hour later that Wayne Munson and Claudia Henderson are arguing about whos spare room would be better for Steve to stay in. It doesn't help when El throws in Hoppers cabin as an option, holding Steves hand and looking up at him with wide, sad eyes.

#stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steve x eddie #ficlet #steddie fic

[linomilkers]

lee minho x reader x bang chan

[warnings: bdsm dynamics, spanking, degradation]

. . .

Normally, when they do this, the roles are reversed.

Chan is always composed and careful with Y/N; his touch is tender, feathery sometimes but firm when it needs to be. He coos sweet words to her, cards the hair from her face when she mewls, gives her what she wants when she asks. He can be rough with her but there's always an undercurrent of fondness and warmth that slithers through his stony gaze. And again, he's lenient with her -- if she took whatever he gave her, she reaped the benefits by the end of the night.

Minho was rougher with her; much less tolerant to her whining and begging, and more likely to dole out punishment for much less. He squeezed tighter, grabbed harder, moved and positioned her body however he liked. She was always marked up in some way when they were finished, bruises from his mouth littered all around her body. He thought it was cute when she cried, would mock her whimpers while he stroked her tears away. "Aww," he'd sigh, almost dreamily "You must want it so badly don't you? If you'd listened to me then maybe you'd have it by now." And no matter how rough he was, the aftercare following was always sweet and gentle.

Both were good. Y/N liked it, and she liked that, no matter who she was with, she did feel cared for and loved. She'd grown used to the dynamics of their relationship and would want for nothing while she was with them -- she knew that. And she knew that she was lucky.

What she didn't know, was how different it would be for their assigned roles to switch.

Because right now, Chan is the one who pushed her onto the bed. He's the one who yanked her hips up so that her bum was in the air and hastily snatched her cotton underwear down her thighs. Minho had lazed his way in before he could actually start swatting at her, making a confused sound in his throat as he ambled to the bed, hovering over her.

"She doesn't listen." Chan replied gruffly to his silent question, and Y/N hardly thought that was fair. Maybe she was being a bit bratty, but all she wanted to do was hang out and he'd said he only needed thirty minutes. They were supposed to go out for lunch, her stomach felt hollowed out even though she'd eaten breakfast, and thirty minutes came and went. She wasn't in the mood to play "how long can Chan extend the amount of time he originally allotted himself on a file before he really had to leave". So when he tried to shoo her off for another thirty minutes, she'd stood her ground.

"I'm not going anywhere."

And it probably would have gone over better a different day. If he wasn't already overstressed and overtired, and not in a particularly playful mood, he probably would have laughed. Closed his laptop, asked what she wanted to eat, and tease her for huffing over being hungry.

He wasn't in the mood for it, Y/N could tell, but she kept pushing. Kept complaining, arguing with him to shut out of the tab, telling him he does this all the fucking time. He closed his eyes, took another slow, deep inhale before ordering, "Go wait for me in the bedroom." Which might as well have been saying You're getting punished for this. Usually that's Minho's line, so she's a little taken aback, especially when he follows up with, "You're already getting fifteen, do you want to make it thirty?"

Her heart was thudding in her chest -- this is new for them, really. Y/N is only ever a brat with Minho and that's just because she knew he liked it. To not only be a brat toward him, but for him to react this way. . .she was a little excited. Nervous, but excited, and she knew that if she really didn't want to do this -- if she wasn't in the mood to play, all she had to do was say their safe word and she'd be off the hook. They would talk it out, each would say their piece, they'd kiss and make up and they would eat.

But Y/N was interested to see where this went -- how it went.

So there they were, Y/N with her hips in the air, frowning as she tried to plead her case to Minho, "I was hungry!" She argued, "And he said thirty more minutes, and he did that fucking thing again where he tries to push it off."

Y/N doesn't know what she expected from Minho -- honestly, probably for him to take Chan's side, and encourage him to be firm with her. To uphold that No Brat Policy that he claimed to have. But she's pleasantly surprised when he makes a soft, understanding noise, "Ahhh," he hums, before crawling in the bed in front of her, ushering her upper half into his lap, letting her wrap her arms around his waist, "The poor thing was just hungry," he stroked her head, smoothing her hair down like she was his pet.

Chan was in the middle of removing his rings. She could hear them clatter in the dish on the dresser as he moved around behind them, "There was a better way to communicate that," he dismissed him, "We spoil her too much."

"Mm, you're to blame the most for it."

"Well, I'm fixing it now."

Chan rarely spanks her, and when he does, it's typically one fleeting swat after he guides her from one position to the next. She had no idea what she was about to experience, but from the way Minho was coddling her, she could only expect it would be intense.

The first was on her right cheek, the flat of his palm echoes with her skin and a gasp leaves her mouth. She clings tighter to Minho's waist, who shushes her, "Show him how good you are," he murmured, "Just like when you take them from me." The sting of it radiates from her bottom in outward spirals, encircling her lower half. Her heart still thuds against her sternum, her blood roaring in her ears, and the second comes quick, before she can even think.

"Count them." He ordered impassively, and his in-expression only makes her want to please him, which is the very same with Minho. Y/N wondered if Minho had coached him through this, told him what to do if he ever wanted to punish her effectively. To send her deep and floaty, in that space she likes -- the one Minho can get her to so easily.

The third makes her jolt forward, her face nuzzles into the soft fabric of Minho's quarter-zip pullover, "3!" Her voice is muffled against his stomach but Chan doesn't seem to mind. He allows her to be cooed and petted at by Minho, who is showing an unexpected amount of tenderness with her. But he usually just lets Minho do whatever he wants anyway without question, so that's really the one unsurprising thing. He's comforting, he smells good, and he's warm.

By the time Chan finishes, her bum is sore and radiating warmth around it. Tears make her vision bleary, she's sniffling and whining, but the complaint playing at her lips is replaced with a startled moan. He buries two fingers inside of her easily, down to his knuckle, curling them up, "It's scorching in here," he murmured, "And so wet. Fucking whore."

Minho guides her up so she's got her hands flattened out on the mattress, supporting her own weight. Y/N gets a good look at her when she looks at him to pout, and he presses the hair from his own face. His eyes are big, brown and beneath them is puffy, like he might have fallen asleep on the sofa, heard the both of them arguing, then made his way to the scene. "Put that lip away," he thumbs at it, pushing it back into her mouth.

"He's being mean." That works a laugh out of both of them, Minho presses a kiss to her mouth while Chan squeezes over the burning flesh.

"Don't act like you don't love it." Minho teases.

#stray kids smut #bang chan x reader #bang chan smut #lee know x reader #lee know smut

[shy-urban-hobbit]

"May I have this dance?" Eskel asked offering Ciri a hand, causing her to stop bobbing around in her seat to the song Jaskier was currently debuting for them.

"Yes!" She cried out, grabbing the proffered hand in both of hers to drag the large Witcher to the open space behind them, the adults smiling and chuckling at her enthusiasm. Geralt and Yennefer were the next two to get up and join them after a wordless conversation which seemed to involve many head tilts and eyebrow raises.

Lambert raised his own in surprise when Aiden stood and gave him a borderline mocking bow,

"How about it?"

Lambert swallowed down his mouthful of White Gull. He wasn't anywhere near drunk enough for this (he wasn't even tipsy), but everyone else looked to be having fun. Yennefer and Geralt seemed to be treating it like it was some sort of courtly affair whilst Ciri was balancing on Eskel's feet, her delicate, tiny hands looking comically adorable in the Witchers huge paws.

"Sure, why not." He slapped his own hand down into Aiden's open palm, "But no way am I letting you lead."

"Do you know the steps?"

Lambert shook his head no as they made their way over to the others. It was a song Jaskier had come up with three days ago, there weren't any steps.

"Then who says anybody has to lead?"

Give them a couple of swords and it was almost like they were working a job together - moving completely in synch, able to predict the others next move without so much as a glance as they stepped and twirled. Of course, their jobs didn't usually require this much touching. Even when sparring, any holds were for effectiveness - disable your opponent as quickly as possible - they had a purpose to them. These holds...very much did not.

There was absolutely no reason for Lambert's hand to linger on Aiden's side, but linger it did, feeling the muscles flexing as the Cat moved. Aiden's own hands were resting on Lambert's biceps, feeling the heat of the others skin through the thin shirt - had the Wolf's arms always been this toned?

The outside of their thighs momentarily brushing together as they side stepped one another felt far more intimate than the action warranted before Lambert pulled Aiden into a spin, catching the Cat around his waist as he pulled him towards him. Aiden's hands found a new home on Lambert's shoulders and he was suddenly struck with the urge to wrap his arms around the Wolf's neck to bring him that little bit closer. He couldn't be sure, but for a moment it felt like Lambert somewhat hesitantly caressed his hip bones as he adjusted his hold before lifting Aiden off the ground and spinning them both.

Their bodies sliding together was a new form of torture as Lambert set him back down, their chests heaving despite the dance being nowhere near rigourous enough to warrant it. Both of them hyper aware of their hands on one another's hips but neither one pulling away.

"Uncle Lambert, dance with me!" Ciri yelled, breaking the moment as she crashed into his legs, grinning up at him. Neither of them knew when exactly Jaskier had started a new song but it definitely wasn't the one they'd started dancing to.

"Sure thing, Kid." He answered, not taking his eyes off Aiden until his niece started tugging at his sleeve impatiently.

"Save a dance for me, Princess." Aiden said, ruffling her hair, "I'm going to grab a drink, I think."

He moved back to his original seat and filled his glass to the brim from the jug of Gull before downing half of it, ignoring the bards too knowing smirk as he tried not to think about how Lambert holding him like that would feel without the barrier of clothing.

#the witcher #the witcher fanfiction #aiden/lambert #aiden x lambert #lambden #lambert/aiden #lambert x aiden #witcher aiden #witcher lambert #lambert

[zoyaofthegardvn]

The Queen's Maidservant

Manon Blackbeak x reader

CW: Smut! 18+ pleaseee

In which Manon requests for you, a maidservant, to assist her during a bath :)

You stand hesitant outside of your Queen's bathing chamber, head lowered, hand ready to knock. Asterin, the Second in Command to the Witch Queen, had fetched you from where you had been working in the kitchens. The girls you had been working with, laughing with, all giggled and mocked you with cries of "Ooooo's" when they'd heard that the Queen had specifically requested that you be at her service this evening.

They guessed that you were in some sort of trouble. The Queen rarely calls on servants and maids, being too independent, too private to desire any assistance. Instead, you and most of the servants were free to roam the castle, the lands, as you pleased, so long as some work got done.

When Manon Blackbeak had been crowned the Witch Queen, everyone had been nervous, at first. But she'd made the Witchlands a place to thrive, and be happy. That didn't mean that Manon was any less terrifying, though.

You had swatted at your girl friends with a wet rag, giving them a stern look for antagonizing you in front of the Second in Command, who you surely thought would deem the lot of you as immature. But Asterin just huffed a laugh, then left, knowing you were going to listen.

As you made your way to the Queen's wing of the castle, you racked your brain, wondering what you possibly could have done wrong. You had served the Queen before, many times, actually, more than anyone else. Bringing her food, mending the saddle she used for her mount, Abraxos. Sometimes, the Queen would send you to deliver a letter to another part of the castle. Or, she'd send you to find a book for her in the library. Once, she even had you choose what poor, unlucky man was going to be her meal for the evening.

She wasn't unkind to you. Impatient, curt, bossy, yes. But never unkind. You had certainly done more tasks for her than any of the other maidservants. You wondered if you had somehow, unknowingly, broken the sliver of trust the Queen seemed to have in you.

When you arrived at the door to her bedroom, you had knocked softly with a call of "My Queen?" When you didn't receive a response, you had gently pushed open the door that had been cracked open. She wasn't anywhere to be seen, until you noticed the soft light from underneath the door to the bathing room.

Your stomach tightened at that, thinking, surely she does not intend for me to assist her in the bath? There must have been a mistake, perhaps she needed me later this evening and Asterin had misheard.

And so now, here you are, at the door to where you know the Queen awaits you. You struggle with wanting to serve the Queen, and with wanting to respect her privacy. With curiosity about what she wants from you, and fear that you have done something to offend her.

Taking a deep breath in, you finally decide to knock. Just as you pull your hand back, prepared to lower it on the door, you hear a voice call out, "I know you're out there, Y/N. Do come in."

Your heart is hammering now. Of course she knew you had been standing outside the door, she'd probably caught your scent when you were halfway down the hallway.

Clearing your throat, you grasp the doorknob, twisting and pushing in. You briefly spot Manon's head resting on the back edge of her huge, clawfoot tub. Her eyes appeared to be closed, and you could see faint steam radiating from the tub before you dropped your head, lowered your gaze.

"M-My Queen, how may I assist you this evening?" You internally scolded yourself for stammering, not wanting to know how awkward you feel, being in the same room as the bathing Queen.

Manon releases a humming sound, and you can hear the water slosh as she moves around a bit, picking her head up from where she was resting.

"Why so formal, maidservant?" She sounds like she's teasing.

You grow flustered, confused. "I... My Queen... I do not mean any offense, and I do not wish to invade your privacy. I was fetched by your Second, she said you requested my services...?"

Manon gives a short, quick laugh. "I know why you're here."

When you don't respond right away, Manon grows impatient. "Look at me when I speak to you."

Your stomach drops, face growing hot and red. Finally, you lift your head. Manon is staring straight at you. Her white hair is wet, a few strands sticking to her face and neck. You can see her collarbones, glistening from the steam. But thankfully, the rest of her body is obscured not only by the side of the tub, by what you can tell is... bubbles. You hadn't expected to find the Witch Queen taking a bubble bath, but you suppose it does not matter if she is not going to allow you to leave this room alive.

"My apologies, my Queen. I did not wish to make you uncomfortable." You're sincere when you say this, not knowing what limits the Queen has with her servants.

One of Manon's hands, which is resting on the edge of the tub, begins to extend its claws. They're not at their full length, just slightly pointed. She clicks them against the porcelain, eyes trailing up and down your body.

"I've called you here so that you may assist me with my bath." Her voice is sharp, husky.

You try to resist the urge to screw your face in confusion, but your eyebrows furrow slightly, and you cannot help but say, "Why?"

Manon arches a pale brow, her jaw tightens. Before she can speak, you immediately attempt to counteract the damage you've done. "I-I mean, my Queen, you have not required assistance with a bath before," Manon's face doesn't look any less displeased, and so you continue, "And there isn't anything wrong with assistance, my Queen..." again, Manon just stares. "I just wonder if... you're alright. Or... why you requested that I assist you...?" Your voice trails off at the end, and you bite your lip in anticipation, expecting her to lash out at you for your insolence.

"Do you believe yourself to be in any position to question me?" Manon asks.

You swallow hard, eyes yet again returning to the ground. "No, my Queen. I am so, so sorry. I will assist you in any way you wish."

Manon does not answer for a moment, leading you to lift your head slightly, to see if she's preparing to strike. She hasn't moved from her spot, still staring at where you stand.

Finally, Manon gives one quick nod. "You cannot assist with my bath from over there, can you?"

You shake your head, "No, my Queen," stepping forward a few paces, until you're within arm's length of the tub, you ask, "Where would you like me to begin, my Queen?"

She scoffs, settling back into the tub. "I think you know what a bath entails, and stop saying 'my Queen.' I get so sick of it."

"Y-Yes, my Q-," you stop yourself before you can finish. "I mean, yes of course. My apologies."

You take just a few more steps forward, until you are standing at the edge of the tub, looking down at the Queen. Your cheeks flush red at what you can see of her body, though most is obscured by the bubbles. You can see the tops of her breast, just the very top edge of her pink nipples. Her knees are bent, her soft legs exposed, shining from the water. She's got her head resting back on the tub, a washcloth used as a cushion. Her eyes are closed, and she looks alarmingly relaxed and peaceful. You know that she's a predator, one of the most feared, but you can't help but note how vulnerable she appears.

You lower yourself onto your knees, a bit hesitant to reach out and touch her. You dip a hand into the water, testing the warmth. It is quite hot, warmer than you would make your own bath, but not unbearable.

"Shall I start with your hair...?" You speak so quietly, unwilling to disrupt the calm in the room.

Manon gives a grunt of approval, sitting up and moving forward to allow you access to her moonlit strands.

When she sits up straight, her breasts are nearly entirely exposed. You suck in a sharp breath of air, diverting your eyes elsewhere. Her breasts are full and perky, nipples soft and pretty. They glisten from the wet, stray bubbles clinging on.

After a moment of composing yourself, attempting to tame the fire in your belly, you reach a shaky hand to her long hair sticking to her back. You're sure to keep your eyes on the back of her head, resisting the urge to peer over her shoulder.

Her hair is thick and soft, and when you reach both hands forward to pull it all back from her face, you swear you hear Manon hum in content.

Grabbing the shampoo from a glass jar on a small table nearby, you dump a small amount in the palm of your hand before returning your touch to her hair. You start at her scalp, working the soap into her roots. Using your nails, you give gentle scratches to her head, starting at her temples, working until you're at the base of her neck. She bends her head forward a bit to give better access, and you move the suds down the rest of the length, hands brushing against the skin of her back.

When you're satisfied with the cleanliness, you softly ask, "Will you lean your head back, my Q-," you stop yourself before you can disobey her order, "You will you lean back, so that I can rinse?"

Manon chooses to not address your almost slip up, instead, scooting forward even more, her eyes still closed. She grasps the sides of the tub, then lays backwards until nearly her entire head is submerged. The water line dances around her face, her cheeks a bit flushed from the warmth.

At her actions, though, her entire chest has become exposed. At the sight of her breasts, you feel your stomach tighten, your arousal begin to grow. You have always found the Queen beautiful, have always been attracted to her. You never imagined you'd see this much of her.

You shake your head, fearing you have stared too long, that she'll notice where your gaze has fallen. You cup some of the warm water in your hands, careful to avoid the bubbles, and bring it to the top of her hairline. Once the top of her hair is thoroughly cleaned of shampoo, you run your hands through the hair submerged in the water. Manon's eyes flutter throughout the process, but they do not open.

Finally, when you're satisfied, you pull your hands away, eyes falling to her breasts again briefly before you clear your throat and tell her she can sit up now.

This time, when she moves, she does open her eyes. The water sloshes as she sits up, and she turns to face you.

"Is my naked body distracting you, Y/N?"

You feel stunned, caught and scared. 'I-I.. no, not at all. No, I-I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable, I ju-"

Manon cuts you off with a roll of her eyes, clicking her tongue. "Relax, maidservant. I'm not going to kill you for seeing something you clearly desire."

Your heart is pounding, eyes are wide. You sound terrified when you ask, "What?"

Manon just smirks at you, a wicked glint in her eyes. "Continue with the bath." She closes her eyes again, turning her head forward.

You feel confused, and nervous. Unsure of what exactly just happened. But of course, you do what the Queen says.

Reaching for the conditioner, you repeat the process you followed with the shampoo. Except this time, you're more conscious of where your eyes fall. When the conditioner is fully worked in, you pick her hair up, resting it on her shoulder so that it may sit, and not wash away in the water.

At this point, most of the bubbles have dissolved. Her body is nearly entirely exposed and you're struggling to not let your thoughts turn lewd, inappropriate.

"Shall we let that sit? I can return in a few moments, to wash it out." You ask her, already rising to your feet.

Manon grips your wrist where your hand rests on the side of the tub, preventing you from standing. "And what of my body? Do you not wash your own while your conditioner sits?" Her jaw is clenched, an eyebrow raised.

"Y-Yes of course, I just thought that you may want to do that part yourself."

She looks properly angry now, and her tone is tense when she speaks. "I called you here to assist with a bath, I thought you were entirely competent. But, perhaps I was wrong..."

Your heart sinks at her words, you feel mortified and desperate to make it right. Terrified that the Queen will see you unfit for duty, that she'll banish you from the castle, from work and your friends, you scramble to say, "No, of course not. My apologies, it won't happen again. We'll wash your body."

Manon gives you a sharp nod, and you know that this is it, you cannot mess up again.

You settle back onto your knees, leaning to grab a washcloth and the lavender scented bar of soap. You wet and lather the rag slowly, putting the soap back on the table before turning back to Manon.

You raise the washcloth to her back, rubbing gently in small circles. You bring the suds up to her shoulders, the back of her neck, before running it downwards. To your surprise, she releases a small groan.

"Are you alright, my Queen?" Your voice is quiet, and shaky.

Manon doesn't acknowledge the title, only saying, "I'm fine. Just sore, you try riding a beast for nearly three days straight."

You smile a bit, knowing how much she adores her Abraxos. "It seems very taxing, I'm sure a hot bath feels nice, then."

Manon just hums, her muscles becoming visibly more relaxed.

You continue with her back, your hand had momentarily paused its movements. When you reach the waterline, though, you still.

Manon can feel where you've stopped, and so she rises to her knees, allowing you to wash the rest of her.

You take a deep breath in, eyes settling on her backside. She's slim and muscular, her ass firm and round. The water drips down her back, running across her cheeks. You want to lean in and lick it from her.

You reel your thoughts back in, attempting to concentrate. You trail the washcloth further down, coating her in lavender smelling suds. When you finish, you get to work on her arms. You start at her shoulders, working down to her hands. Once satisfied, you know that the next step is to wash her front.

You bring a hand up to rest gently on the back of her waist, signaling that you're moving on now. She turns a bit, and you meet her halfway.

It's nearly impossible to not get distracted by her chest, her toned stomach, the hint of abs. But you manage to keep your eyes on her collarbones as you bring the washcloth up, running over her chest. The water and soap drips down, the lavender smell almost too good to resist leaning in.

You work down, working the soap over her chest gently. Her breasts bounce a bit as you clean them, her nipples harden when you trace the washcloth over them. You can't help but wonder how'd they'd feel in your hand.

You imagine how soft they'd feel, how they'd spill over your cupped hands because they're so full and plush. You imagine how beautiful she'd look with red and purple marks coating her pale skin, how she'd look with her chest heaving while you sat on top of her. How'd they look swaying in your face as she rode you.

You push the thoughts from your head, working the cloth down to the underneaths of her breasts, then down her stomach. You swallow hard when you reach her thighs, the water and soap clinging to the patch of white hair at her core. You run the cloth over it quickly, gently.

Finally, you pull away, looking back up at her face. She's staring at you intently, the corners of her mouth threatening to turn into a smile.

"You may sit back now, and bring your legs up if you'd like me to wash them, too." You say to her, knowing the redness of your face is obvious, the cause of it, too.

She sits back down in the tub, leaning against the back to raise one of her legs in the air. You start at her foot, working the cloth in circular motions on the bottom of it, then the top, then her ankle. You run the cloth up her smooth calf, the bottoms of her thigh that isn't under the water. When you finish, you push her leg down gently, signaling that it's time for the other one.

When the entire process is finished, you note that the water has begun to grow cold. "Let's wash your hair out quickly now, I don't want you to have to have a cold bath."

Manon gives a soft "Hmm" in agreement, sitting forward so that you can wash her hair.

You try and work quickly, but her hair is so long and thick. When her hair finally feels void of conditioner and soap, you stand up. Reaching for the drain, you pull it up and allow the water to begin to escape.

You can feel Manon's eyes tracking every move you make, and you work hard to not look at her, knowing your eyes will stray.

"I will grab you a towel, shall I also find you a nightgown to wear, my Queen?"

"The gown won't be necessary." Her voice is husky, and you shiver a bit at the thought that Manon prefers to sleep naked.

You nod politely, and scurry off to the chest of drawers in the bathroom. While finding a large towel, you hear what's left of the water splash as Manon steps out of the tub.

As you settle on one soft to give her, you recognize the unmistakable sound of footsteps approaching. Her bare feet are padding the hard ground softly, audibly dripping wet.

You finally turn to face her, towel clutched in your hands. She's looking directly in your eyes and it's difficult not to flinch under her gaze.

She nods to the towel in your arms, "Well, are you going to dry me?"

You swallow the lump in your throat, nodding your head rapidly. There isn't much distance between the two of you now, but you take the rest of the steps required to close it.

Shaking hands reach out, placing the towel on top of one of her shoulders. She watches you closely, and you keep your eyes trained on her body as you move the towel down, collecting the water droplets. You do the same to the other arm, then you bring the towel to her chest.

As you rub the towel into her skin, you can't stop the desire in your gut from forming as you feel her breasts through the towel. Working your way down, your mouth almost waters at the sight of her cunt and her strong thighs.

You're breathing hard by the time you step around her, drying her back and her ass, too. Her hair is heavy and wet, and when you're done, you wrap the towel around her hair and squeeze, ridding it of the access moisture weighing it down.

When done, you take a step back, admiring her backside for one more second before you bring your eyes back up. "All done, would you like me to clean up the bathroom before I take my leave?" She had dripped a fair amount of water onto the ground as she had approached you.

Manon turns to face you and furrows her brows in confusion. "Leave? Why would you leave? I am still wet, maidservant."

Now, it's your turn to look confused. "I'm sorry, my Queen, but I'm not sure what you mean..."

Manon steps impossibly closer, the two of you nearly chest to chest. She's a head taller than you, so you crane your neck to look up at her. The towel drops from your hands at the sudden proximity, and you wonder if you've done something to really upset her.

Manon moves faster than lightning, her hand darting out to grasp your wrist. You gasp at the suddenness, wondering what she plans to do.

Her grip is tight as she pulls your hand closer to her body, lowering it until your fingers are brushing through the white hair on her cunt, until they're making contact with her wet heat.

"I said, 'I'm still wet, maidservant.' What are you going to do about it?"

Your heart is hammering, wetness immediately beginning to gather between your thighs. Your chest is heaving from where you're breathing heavily, and your hands are trembling. "M-My Queen, I'm so confu-"

Before you can finish your sentence, Manon is surging forward and kissing you passionately. You don't move for a second, too shocked to react. But she's pushing you back until you hit the wall, never releasing your lips from her own.

After a moment, you let your desire take over. Though still muddled with confusion, you close your eyes and give in to the kiss.

It's hot and feverish, desperate and uncontrolled. She's released your hand so that her own can grip your face, and she's pressing her body into yours.

Her tongue begins working at the seams of your lips, and you open them so that your tongue can dance with hers.

She pulls back for a second, letting both of you catch your breath. "Are you still confused?"

"Yes, entirely," Manon laughs at your statement, at the fierce red blush of your cheeks and the confusion in your eyes, "Are you sure that you want... this? To do this with me?"

Manon smirks before speaking, her eyes flitting down to your lips before looking back up at you. "I've found you attractive for a long time, and I see you stealing glances at me when you think I don't notice. Why should we not?"

Your mouth gapes open in shock, unable to form a sentence, you just stutter and make a fool of yourself. The Witch Queen desires... me?

Manon doesn't need a response, though. She knows that you want this.

Her lips attach to yours once again, and she bites on your lip before making her way down. Her lips trail across your jaw, to just underneath your ear, where she takes your earlobe in between her teeth, giving it a gentle tug.

You can't help the moan that escapes you, your hands coming up to grip her upper arms. She continues her descent, sucking harsh marks onto your throat and collarbones.

She peers up at where you've tossed your head back on the wall, where you've let your eyes flutter shut. She grins when they dart open at the feel of her pulling away.

She takes a few steps back, and you let your eyes roam over her naked body in earnest now.

"Beautiful," is what you whisper under your breath at the sight.

"Go into the bedroom, stand at the end of the bed." Manon's orders are direct and leave no room for argument. Not that you would, anyway.

You nod your head, then turn to open the bathroom door, pushing it open and entering the bedroom. You cross the room to stand at the foot of the bed as she instructed, turning to face where she now stands in the doorway.

Her eyes rake over your clothed body, and you grow a bit insecure. Your hair is a bit damp with sweat from the heat of the bathwater, and your plain dress is stained from working in the kitchens.

Manon doesn't seem to mind, though, as she begins walking closer.

You watch how her thighs move with every step she takes, how you can see wetness on the insides of them. You watch her abs flex, her tits bounce, and her face turn wicked.

Then, you spot how she extends her iron claws on her right hand. You swallow hard, eyes zeroing in on the sudden appearance of her natural weapons.

When she's finally close enough to touch you, she brings her hand up, trailing a claw from just underneath your eye, down your throat, and to your collarbone.

She doesn't really use it, though, until she's at the top of your dress.

Quicker than you can blink, she's slashing your dress down the middle. You gasp as it falls to the floor, body instantly struck with the cool air. You bring your arms up, attempting to cover your now bare chest.

Manon will have none of this, though. "I think it's only fair that you're undressed too, no?"

You shiver from the exposure and just stare at her, not responding.

"I asked you a question, maidservant. Do you think it's fair for me to be naked, and for you to not?" She takes another step forward, not breaking eye contact.

Finally, you stutter, "N-No, I-I suppose not."

Manon smirks, it's all malice and no warmth. "Good. Now, drop your arms."

You hesitate for a split second, but you cannot deny that you want her to see you. You want many, many things from the Witch Queen.

You do as she says, bringing your arms back down to your sides.

Instantly, Manon's eyes drag to your chest.

You try not to be insecure. They're large, and gravity has not been kind to them. They're covered in stretch marks, and you cannot help but think of all the teasing you endured growing up, as you filled out your body, growing thick and full.

You wonder if Manon minds, the angry red marks. The fact that your stomach is not flat, that your thighs are dimpled and touching one another.

As if sensing your negative thoughts, Manon places her iron claw, which she's shortened, underneath your chin. She tilts your face up, forcing you to look at her.

"I've wanted to fuck you for a long time, Y/N. Tell me, do you want to fuck me, too?"

You swallow, hard. Your heart is pounding, skin flushed with desire.

"Y-yes, my Q-," you stop yourself, remembering how she dislikes the title. "Yes, Manon."

Her grip tightens on your chin, her eyes narrow. "Yes, what?"

"Yes, I want to fuck you, Manon." Your voice is a near whisper, laced with lust. Your eyes flick downwards, to her lips. Lips you very much want to kiss again.

And so, you do. Leaning forward, Manon drops your chin as your lips meet, instead choosing to wrap her arms around your bare frame. Your plush body meets her toned one, and it feels like a fire's been lit in your belly at the feel of her nakedness against your own.

Manon's hands wander down your body, claws shredding your flimsy underwear, the last item on your body. Her hands knead your full ass, and you moan into her mouth at the touch. She takes the opportunity to push her tongue into your mouth, taking your make out further for a few moments, before she's pushing you down onto the bed.

You hit the mattress with a small huff, and Manon pulls away from your lips to trail kisses downwards. Her lips begin sucking a mark under the curve of your jaw, leaving small red and purple splotches in her wake as she covers the expanse of your throat and collarbones.

She continues, leaving open-mouthed kisses across the top of your chest. Her hands come up, pushing your large breasts into cleavage as she kneads and toys with a nipple. Her mouth occupies the other one, sucking and lightly nibbling with her teeth.

You're writhing on the bed underneath her, quiet pants of her name falling from your lips as you tangle your fingers in her hair. She releases your nipple with a pop, bringing her eyes up to meet your gaze.

"What do you want, kitty?" Her mouth covers your other nipple, removing her hands to give it the same wet attention as the other breast.

Your chest arches into her mouth. "More, please," you moan, aware of how pathetic you sound.

She smiles against your breast, it's devious and it makes your wet heat throb. She pulls away, sitting up and pinching at your nipples with both of her hands, aided by the wetness her mouth has left.

Her eyes take in your body, your swollen lips, red and parted as you pant. Your chest, covered in her marks, full breasts bouncing as your chest heaves. She bites her lip and smirks. "You're fucking hot, Y/N, do you know that?"

You shake your head no, and she growls a bit in disappointment. She shuffles down your body, gripping your thick thighs and pulling them open. She groans at the sight of your cunt, your pubic hair glistening with your arousal. The smell hits her, and her mouth waters with the need to taste you.

One of her hands travels the large expanse of your stomach, squeezing the flesh of your hips and curves. She trails across your bellybutton, and brings her thumb down to the hood of your clit. She places pressure there, but not nearly enough. Nevertheless, you whine at the jolt of pleasure, bucking your hips.

She hisses, her other hand grabbing one of your thighs, digging her nails in just a bit. A warning, for you to stay still.

She spreads your legs even wider, then settles onto her stomach between your thighs. Your eyes go wide at what she's about to do, and she makes sure to make eye contact as she spreads your lips apart with her thumbs, purses her lips, and spits right onto your clit. You gasp at the dirtiness of the action, and Manon grins in wicked delight.

"I'm gonna make this cunt mine, understand?"

You nod your head rapidly, wanting nothing more than to belong wholly to Manon.

Clearly, this displeases her. She lands a smack to your pussy, and you jump at the sting, whining at the pleasurable pain. She glares at you, "I said, do you understand?"

You groan in frustration, "Yes, yes, I understand!"

She hums, finally satisfied. "Good, and don't you dare move too much."

And with that, she's lowering her mouth to your cunt. She licks a few stripes with her tongue, from your sopping wet hole, to your swollen clit, and back again. Her strokes are light and teasing, and they have you biting your lip at the gentleness of it.

Then, she flicks her tongue along your clit, hard, up and down motions. You jerk, and again, she's digging her claws into your thigh. This time, you get the faint sensation she may have drawn blood.

She pulls back, and you look down, just to see her lick her lips and mumble against your lips, "Whose pussy is this?"

She sucks your clit into her mouth, hard, but slow sucks on the bundle of nerves. Your head falls back and your eyes flutter closed, "Yours, Manon, it's yours."

She sucks faster at your response, then brings an unclawed hand up, pushing her middle finger into your entrance. Despite how wet you are, you're still so tight, so she pushes slowly, eventually burying her slender finger into your contracting walls.

She holds still, focusing on working your clit with her mouth, until she slowly starts to gently thrust. Her pace is torturous, and when you finally moan out a cry for more, she begins to thrust faster. Her mouth hasn't left your throbbing clit once, and a coil is winding in the pit of your belly.

She can feel you clenching, hear your moans grow louder and louder. When she adds a second finger, curling in a come-hither motion, your arching off the bed, hands flying to her hair, pushing her deeper into your pussy. You expect her to scold you for it, but she moans against you, alternating between sucking your clit and flicking it.

When you become dangerously close to falling over the edge, you moan Manon's name, "I'm gonna cum, Manon, fuck."

She nods slightly against you, fingers fucking you wildly, mouth sloppily working your clit.

You cum all over her face, tightening around her fingers, chest heaving and a loud cry of her name falling from your lips. You're moaning with reckless abandon, uncaring if someone were to hear how well she's fucking you.

You're coming down from your high, but Manon isn't stopping. She pulls her fingers from your cunt, only to move her mouth down, choosing to fuck you with her tongue, now. You gasp, and try to push her head away due to the oversensitivity. She growls a warning into your heat, swatting your hands away, then using her fingers on your throbbing clit.

Quicker than before, you're on the edge of yet another orgasm. You're panting her name like its a prayer, mumbling, "'S'too much, fuck, Manon."

Manon doesn't care. Her plan was to show you who your pussy belongs to, and she continues to do exactly that.

Between her wet muscle rapidly fucking in and out of you, and her fingers rubbing harsh, tight circles on your clit, it's no surprise you don't last long. For the second time in just a matter of minutes, you're climaxing all over your Queen's face and hand.

This time, she relents, allowing you to come down, slowing her pace, before pulling away from you completely. You sigh in satisfaction, raising your head to look down at her, still laid between your spread legs.

She looks to your thigh, and you follow her gaze, confirming that she had, indeed, drawn blood with her clawed grip. You don't mind, it's not much of anything, just a few trickling droplets.

Your mouth drops open, eyebrows raising just a fraction when Manon leans in and licks the drying blood from where it's ran down the expanse of your thigh. And even though you'd just had two very intense orgasms, the sight makes your lower belly ache, full with desire for her all over again.

Manon rises to her knees, climbing back up your body. She braces herself on her hands, hovering above you, just barely out of reach. You huff at the tease, reaching up to grab her and pull her down.

She chuckles into your mouth as you kiss her, tasting your desire still on her tongue. Your hands roam her back, feeling the toned muscles. She sits herself on your lower abdomen, and you move farther down, kneading her ass and hips.

When she moans, you take the opportunity to pull back, tugging on her lower lip with your teeth.

You work your way up, until your hands land on her perky breasts. You massage them, rubbing your thumbs back and forth over her pretty pink nipples.

"You gonna let me make you cum, now?" You ask, husky and thick.

She smirks, biting her lip at the stimulation to her nipples. "Hmm, I suppose so."

You quickly rise to a sitting position, Manon leaning back to allow you to move easier. You lean forward like a woman starved, desperate to taste her skin.

You pull a nipple into your mouth, tugging it with your teeth before soothing it with your tongue. Manon's hands fly to your hair, urging you deeper into her chest. One hand works her other nipple while the other squeezes her ass.

Manon's pants and sighs urge you on, bringing your mouth to the other nipple to give it the same attention.

Eventually, Manon pushes you back down by your shoulders, shooting you a grin before she starts making her way up your body. You realize exactly what she's planning, and your stomach flutters in excitement. While she's adjusting herself, you give her ass a small smack, hoping she likes that. When she shoots a glare down at you, you grin, knowing she's not truly upset you. You file away that information for later, that Manon likes a bit of hitting, because you are truly hoping that this happens again sometime.

When her knees are on either side of your head, you place your hands on her thighs, bracing her and urging her to lower herself down. She sees how you eye her wet cunt, and she grabs some of your hair in her hand, making you look up at her.

"Are you gonna make me cum, kitty?"

You nod enthusiastically, licking your lips in anticipation. She hums, then finally, she lowers her hips.

You waste no time, licking through her lips excitedly. She jumps at the contact, then settles back down. You work through the length of her cunt a few times, one hand moving to her ass, squeezing it and pushing her deeper into your mouth.

Your tongue begins working quick circles around her clit, and she starts moving her hips back and forth along your tongue. You hum into her heat, encouraging her to ride your face like she clearly wants to. You pull away for a brief second to catch your breath and mumble, "Make me yours Manon, use me however you want," before you're burying your face into her wetness once again.

Manon doesn't need to be told twice, grinding herself down, riding your pretty face the way she'd been wanting to for so long. You moan into her, and the vibration quickly brings her closer to the edge.

You slip your tongue into her entrance, your nose nudging her clit with each roll of her hips, encouraged by the firm grip you have on her hip and ass.

"Fuck, Y/N," Manon moans, her head tossed back and eyes closed shut. You can tell from her voice that she's so close, and you pull your hand back and land another smack to her ass to encourage her. She gasps, and after a few more rolls of her hips, she's gushing all over your face. You lap at her cunt softly as she comes down from her high, eager to continue if that's what she wants.

But, Manon sits herself back up, panting at the intensity of her orgasm. She moves back down, then she bends so that she can connect your lips once more in a kiss. This time, the kiss is softer, not as full of heat as the others had been.

She moves to lay beside you on the bed, but hovers above you, pecking your lips several times before you speak. "Are you done already?" Your voice has a teasing tone to it, and you bite your lip to hold back a smile. "I think it's only fair you get to cum twice too, yes?"

Manon grins, clearly pleased that you care so much about her pleasure. "Maybe I wanted this to be more about you than it is about me?"

Your eyebrows scrunch in a bit of confusion, wondering why she seems to care so much for you.

She senses the question you don't dare to ask, and she tucks a loose lock of hair behind your ear before speaking. "You've always caught my eye, Y/N, since I met you. And in more ways than just your looks. Is it so surprising someone would be interested in you?"

You want to say, yes, it is surprising someone could be attracted to me. But that isn't what confuses you the most. "Y-You're the... Queen..."

Manon raises an eyebrow at you, as if to say, "So what?"

"What does that matter? I'm still a person with desires, like anyone else."

You can tell by her tone and the look in her eye that she's sincere, if not by the attention she'd just paid to your body. You nod, not sure how to respond with words.

She kisses you again, then wraps her arms around you, pulling you into her still bare chest.

"Get used to this, maidservant, we will be doing this again."

#manon x reader #manon blackbeak #manon crochan #manon blackbeak x reader #manon blackbeak smut #manon smut #throne of glass books #throne of glass fanfiction #throne of glass fic #throne of glass #throne of glass au #tog #tog series #throne of glass smut #sarah j maas #sjm #maas trash #pro manon #witch queen #heir of fire #queen of shadows #empire of storms #kingdom of ash #sapphic fanfic #sapphic fantasy #sapphic romance #sapphic smut #reader insert #terrasen #reader x manon blackbeak

[jaegerisim]

PT. 2 of my HP x BYLER AU

The summer holidays passed by in a blur and between homework and hanging out with Will, Mike had been pretty busy.

Now, in "Platform 9 and 3/4" Mike buzzed with excitement to hug Will. Although they'd seen each other barely 48 hours ago, Mike couldn't help but feel like they'd been 48 days or years. So he moved around with his trolley until he spotted a familiar brown head sticking up in the multitude.

Mike pushed his trolley forward and grinned at Will, who still hadn't seen him as he was focused on something or someone else. That person was Max, who was babbling excitedly about all the new curses and charms Robin was going to teach her this year, while Will nodded along. Meanwhile, Will's mother fussed over how Will's hand-me-down shoes were already displaying holes and his tie was all crooked. Jonathan had his arms wrapped around Steve Harrington whose cheeks were a pretty red color.

Will turned to look at his brother, who stuck his tongue at him. Max grabbed Will's hand trying to draw his attention towards whatever it was she was saying. Will slapped her hand away playfully and she said something in mock offense.

Mrs. Byers was watching the whole interaction with an amused face. Finally, Mike reached his limit and marched over.

"Will!" Mike called "I missed you!"

"So, did I," Will laughed as Mike pulled him away from Max "but we saw each other 2 days ago! It's been weeks since I've seen Max!"

Mike frowned, they'd seen each other during the summer, without The Party? Worse of all, Will hadn't told Mike about this. It was outrageous, they'd promised to tell each other everything! This was all Max's fault.

Not only that, but the red-haired girl he got on Mike's nerves because she seemed to go wherever Will went, meaning he would no longer have Will to himself.

Once in the train, they bumped into El, Lucas and Dustin. Who invited Mike, Will and Max to sit with them. Much to Mike's dismay, Will sat next to the window and Max took the seat next to him.

So Mike sat between El and the door. El was acting weirder than she had last year, she was constantly red in the face and stuttered a lot. Mike almost thought she has a fever, but apparently that wasn't it. Anyways, seeing Max and Will share inside jokes and swap food provokes something really ugly inside of Mike, something burning and painful.

Since Mike was too focused on his own jealousy, he failed to notice Will's own frustration and longing stares while Mike seemingly "flirted" with El.

As the days passed Mike felt he and Will were growing distant from each other. Will hung out with Max and Robin more often while Mike felt like El was the only one who truly understood him.

"Mike!" cried Will, one cloudy, spring day, as he rushed into the courtyard where Mike sat "I tried out for the Quidditch team and they accepted me! I'm a Beater! Training starts tomorrow!"

Mike wanted to be happy for him, he truly did. Yet, he couldn't. He couldn't bring himself to genuinely be happy for his best friend. He couldn't fathom his sweet and caring Will playing such a dangerous sport.

"Will, be honest, do you even like Quidditch?" Mike asked, with a skeptical frown.

"Y- Yeah! I do. It's a great sport and Professor Creel says I'll be a great Beater!" Will sounded defensive.

"Professor Creel? You trust him? Will, he's not to be trusted!" insisted Mike

"I'm sorry?" snapped Will "He is not to be trusted? Why? 'Cause he's a Slytherin, right?"

Mike bit his lip, he hadn't meant to say that.

"Well, guess what? I'm Slytherin too! Does that mean you can't trust me either, huh?"

It began to rain and at one point Mike didn't know if the droplet he felt against his cheeks were tears or the rain itself.

"That's not what I meant!" Mike sobbed

"You sure, Mike? Professor Creel is a magnificent teacher. Just because you're Gryffindor and don't like him doesn't mean he is bad. Not every Slytherin is bad, y'know? Although you Wheelers seem to unjustly despise all of us!"

"That's just not true!" Mike scoffed, why was Will being such an asshole about this?

"I'm leaving! I'm gonna go find Max and Robin 'cause at least they'll be happy for me" spat Will.

"Will, you can't leave!" Mike tried desperately "It's raining" but it was hopeless, Will had already left him.

For the next few weeks, things were awkward between Will and Mike, their conversations had become stilted and forced until they stopped completely. The catalyst for this was Mike hearing rumors of Will and Max dating. Rumors he thought made sense, they were always together, they held hands sometimes and they were super protective of each other. Another reason why Mike felt betrayed by Will. Will hadn't told Mike he liked Max, how were they supposed to be best friends if they kept secrets from each other!

By the last days of school, Hogwarts buzzed with excitement.

The Quidditch match finals were just around the corner. The 2 Houses competing were Hufflepuff and Slytherin, which meant the 2 Byers Brothers were up against each other.

Both were quite the players as Will was pretty bold and didn't think twice of hitting the Bludger with his bat while Jonathan did fantastic saves as a Keeper.

Begrudgingly, Max invited The Party to come see Will but by the first part of the match, El had become bored of the game and told Mike to accompany her back to the school grounds.

Mike accepted since he thought Will wouldn't even care if he wasn't there, curiously, Max shot him a furious glare when he got up to leave.

Both him and El talked for hours, walking around aimlessly. El told him that her Dad had began to date Will's mom and that Will and her are going to be together a lot this summer.

Then, when the sun was almost down, they sat in the courtyard and El grabbed the side of his face, her cheeks were a rosy color and her mouth was in a shy smile.

Mike felt paralyzed, he knew what was going to happen. El was going to kiss him! Yet, he didn't feel that fluttery sensation his sister told him she felt when she kissed her best friend Barb and her ex-boyfriend Steve. His hands weren't all sweaty or clammy like Lucas described he feels when his near his crush. Nor was he a rambling, stuttery mess like Dustin! What did that mean? Why wasn't he feeling the things he should?

"Do you want to do this, Mike?" whispered El, softly

"Um, uh, Ye- Yeah. I do." He can't believe it took him so much willpower to want to kiss El. No, to want to kiss a girl.

El began to kiss him and he kissed her back. Still, nothing magical happened, it was the most boring thing ever. He was just kind of there.

He heard a noise from behind him and he turned around to find Will and Max staring at them, shocked. Max balled her fists and angrily stormed away muttering curses. Will on the other hand, stood there, mouth parted, tears welling up.

Mike knew he fucked up. He'd abandoned Will's important game to kiss a girl. He shouldn't have done that, he knows that.

Will turned around and left, wiping his face with his emerald Quidditch robe.

Mike didn't run after him, Mike turned to face El. She looked slightly sad but mostly confused, she didn't understand what happened.

The last day of school, Mike went over to the Slytherin table at The Great Hall.

"Hey, Will." he began

He felt Max glare daggers at him and Robin give him the stink-eye, several other Slytherins snickered. Billy, had a sneer plastered on his annoying and punchable face.

"Hi?" answered the smaller boy with confusion l

"I wanted to apologize for our argument, ok?" Mike apologized using his softest voice

"It's ok, Mike, really" Will dismissed with a small wave.

"No, it isn't I-" Mike insisted because it wasn't ok it was wrong.

"I said drop it, Mike" the brunet snapped. He did that a lot lately and when he did, he looked eerily similar to his father. It made Mike shudder. Mike shrugged helplessly and left to meet El and Lucas.

Lucas was blushing and El frowned at whatever Lucas was saying.

"So then me and Max kissed under the bleachers, yesterday and it was awesome!" Lucas gushed

Wait, Max and Lucas? Weren't she and Will dating? But if they kissed that meant that the duo were just friends and Mike had misunderstood everything. He'd fucked up again and Will was obviously not fine. Maybe the summer and spending time with El would help.

Mike ended his second year at Hogwarts wondering where exactly he'd gone wrong.

#they're both stupid omfg #both are jealous little guys 😔 #the fact that miwi are such unreliable narrators is very funny to me #miwi being gay and jealous of their platonic bffs is peak comedy #*hands you jealous miwi and dips* #nah but like this is my last update here #m'kay? ☺️ #third year is gonna be rough and unfortunately will have a lot of mileven content #sadly #still my fav to write cuz it's a will pov #if i feel in the mood i might publish it tomorrow #no promises tho 😀 #byler ficlet #byler #el has fics #harry potter byler au #will byers #mike wheeler #madwise #max mayfield #el hopper

[milliestars4]

All the time they had

Azriel x Gwyn

Read on AO3

“They thought they had time - all the time in the world”

Warnings: Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, DepressionGrief/Mourning, vomiting

This was the fifteenth apartment they had looked at, and it was raining outside.

Melodic scatters of thin and fat raindrops tapped against the old, peeling windowsill - they would need to re-paint that, Azriel thought. Once they'd moved in. The windows themselves were lovely: a mahogany-looking wood stretched across the four large glass window panels, from which provided the perfect view of an elderly lady perched on a bench outside, despite the drizzle and dark clouds looming above.

In the singular bedroom, Gwyn was accordioning the carpeted flooring, crouching and running her slender fingers atop it, when Azriel walked in. "It's the wrong colour." she said.

"That's not a problem," Azriel said. "It matches the drapes."

"Well, I suppose you aren't wrong." Gwyn smiled, rose colouring her freckled cheeks, her teel eyes glimmering as Azriel smiled back.

"I think this is the one." He told Gwyneth. "It's lovely."

“It needs a lot of work,” Gwyn started, but was soon cut short as her husbands’ lips pressed gently against hers. She pulled back, “It needs time.”

"Something we have a lot of," he gazed down at her "we can do it together."

++

It was raining outside, the sky's tears hit the top of the umbrella as a numbness washed over him.

The vague scent of sodden mud underneath the squelching of dark shoes overwhelmed his ears.

There was a sting at his already-sodden cheeks - another tear falling, mocking the wish to bleed dry of them. Many tears fell after that.

The stings brought him back to reality - back to the view of the mahogany coffin littered in flowers and soil. A final goodbye that he'd rather face burning tears tenfold than to glance at once more. A final goodbye burning greater than the haunting of a piercingly empty sky - vacant of any light.

A firm, calloused hand grasped his shoulder, then another the other side - holding tight. A grounding sense amongst a drifting mind, numbness the only grasping emotion as a cry broke from a sister's lips. A sister that felt the great vacancy as vividly as he did. He assumed.

"Goodbye," he told the coffin, "I love you, always." he told the sky.

++

"The place is a work in progress." Gwyneth said, folding her arms. Azriel found her enthusiasm admirable - she hadn't even been affected by the horrors of moving day; the two of them had been stranded in the elevator for three hours. Gwyneth laughed during the entirety of the whole ordeal.

"I'd hope so," Cassian laughed from the place on their new couch - most likely basking in the smugness of helping to load it in. "I am surprised Az's germaphobe ass hasn't had an aneurysm yet."

Gwyneth huffed a laugh, moving to sit beside him, shoving at his shoulder, "you'd be surprised to hear that Azriel only had positive things to say about this place, much to your dismay."

"There's a first for everything, then," his brother replied, "shove that in his face every time he cries about getting paint on those overly expensive gloves he wears."

Azriel finally cracked a smile, "shove it up your ass, Cass. This is mine and Gwyneth's work in progress." he said as he took the last remaining place beside his wife, draping an arm over her shoulders, before placing a kiss to her temple.

"Just don't let little Gwynie do all the heavy lifting, okay?"

"I’m bored of this banter, where is my best friend?" Gwyn got up and wandered over to adjourning kitchen - small to some, perfect for those important.

Cassian stretched his arms above his head, letting out an exasperated sigh at the action, "they're calling themselves sisters, you know?" he smiled.

"So, I have heard." but Azriel could only smile at the thoughtfulness of his wife. And he couldn't wait for their time together, while watching her soft, joyous features twisting into gleaming smiles, and bright eyes.

++

The dim light of the musty motel room he was staying at was the first he'd seen since she left.

Cassian and Rhysand dragged his sorry ass out of their darkened apartment claiming he was unwell and needed to sort himself out.

The floral-prints scattering the old wallpaper had been his warping entertainment for the past five hours - with substances now running rampant through his body, he finally felt sane.Normal.

Who even used off-white, flowery wallpaper nowadays?

A key turned in his door, but his head was too heavy to move - by the sounds of a muffled fuck and approaching footsteps meant it was most likely one of his brothers there to lecture him; tell him that she wouldn't want to see him like this.

"It doesn't matter," he slurred, the whites of his eyes bloodshot, "she can't see me anyway." he said to no-one. He said to the world.

"Who are you talking to?" his older brother asked him as he emerged from the completely dark foyer, moving to crouch In front of his sprawled form against the wall.

His hair hadn't been washed since the hospital - shed run her perfect fingers though it for the last time that day - he couldn't wash her touch away. his shirt fit him like a second skin - drenched in sweat after his body flushed the last of his escape out of him, before he relapsed once more. His hands still clutched his spliff limply, between two fingers - unfinished and idle.

"I think you should stay with me for a bit, hey?" Rhysand placed a hand on his cheek, moving his face to look up at him, "so we can help you. Properly."

Azriel couldn't find it in him to respond, to accept the grace that 'help' would entail - if it meant her memory wouldn't chafe at his every pore, every cell he didn’t want it. He didn't want to lose the only thing he had left of her.

"Come on," Rhys stood, hauling Azriel up with him, supporting his waist so he wouldn't keel over. "Nyx is waiting in the car for you, too."

++

Azriel held her copper hair back for the fifth time that night as she hurled her guts up in their newly renovated bathroom.

"Nesta will be smug at the fact she was right about your light-weighted attributes." He laughed, stroking her back in methodical circles as she dry-heaved the remains of her stomach. Hopefully for the final time that evening.

"I am never drinking again." she said, her skin flushed and clammy, as she sat back on her heals - her shoes completely discarded in her hasty escape to the bathroom.

Azriel stood for a moment, leaving the room before shortly returning with a cool glass of water, and pressing it against her lips. "You're okay, Gwyneth, I will stay with you." he passed a gloved hand though her copper strands, soothing his wife as she regained her breath.

++

Azriel stumbled into Rhysand's bathroom, a drunken attempt to empty his stomach of all his mistakes, but he didn't make it in time. Instead, he vomited across the tiled flooring and immaculate matte-finished shower, crumpling into a ball onto the floor. Completely covered in it all.

Someone must have heard his commotion as footsteps sprinted up the two flights of stairs to the guest bathroom, almost knocking the door for it hinges in the entrance. Azriel was too tired, too ashamed to look up.

"Oh, Az," they sighed sadly, "let's get you cleaned up, hm?" Feyre's motherly voice sounded in his ears, before she took one of his scarred hands in hers, and grabbing her phone with her other.

Rhysand was home ten minutes later.

++

"I don't know how to make it better." Azriel whispered brokenly to Rhysand who sat next to him on the couch - Rhysand has cleaned both Az and the bathroom before dressing his brother and easing him to sit. "I only feel her."

"You will heal, you will get better, Az. This will get easier. With time."

#a court of thorns and roses #gwynriel

[average-bb-poke-whisperer]

🫣: Tell me about a time when your OC has been truly terrified/horrified by something.

He stood before the monument, anger coiling inside him as he stared at the mocking statues. Oh how badly he wants to destroy them, but knows it would only make things worse. His breath comes out uneasy, mask in hand, footsteps getting louder...

He shouldnt have done this.

He panicked and had stolen his mask from Juliana and ran off to the plaza of all places, he didn't even know WHY he stole it, she would've given it back to him...well his Pokemon half but still! She was going to return it! But panic and fear got the better of him and it was too late, he sealed his fate with the mask in his hand.

"Kieran!" He could hear his sister's voice shouting at him long before the footsteps. He tried to focus on his breathing, to ease the thumping in his chest and the several set of eyes that bore down on him.

He went to turn to face her, expecting her to have just gotten pass the gate...

Nope

She was coming right for him.

Anger in her eyes

He messed up.

Juliana looking confused and scared behind her, calling out for her to stop.

Kieran couldnt do anything as his jacket was suddenly grabbed by Carmine and lifted up, forced to stand on the tips of his feet.

"What the hell were you thinking Kieran!" Her voice bellows in his ears, making them ring.

"I-I was"

"You were WHAT huh? What could have been so important you stole Ogerpon's mask like that."

Before he could get a word in she let go. His balance was lost and he stumbled back into the moument.

A horrible feeling hit his back. What was suppose to just be stone felt like he got hit with Poison Jab. A shout of pain ripped out of him as he crumbled to the floor in a wheezing pain. He could hear Carmine's voice change from anger to panic.

"K-Kiki?"

A pained groan slipped out of him as he felt his bandana shift off his head. something felt wrong.

A shaky hand reached up and confirmed his fears, his horns were out and visible, Carmine starring down at him in mute horror and shock.

"C-Carmine I-" He was cut off by a chilling presence of dread. He whipped around to find the monument shaking, a malicious purple glow forming around the statues. A pathetic squeak left him as he scrambled to his feet, running past Carmine and Juliana, ignoring their cries.

He had to run, had to escape, he couldn't let them find him, no doubt they'd make him hurt like he made them all those years ago. His chest beat rapidly as he escaped down the pathway, trying to desperately outrun the dread coming back to life.

Dread sank its cold claws into his stomach, he couldn't run back home, those monsters would kill his grandpa. Tears stung his eyes as he ran past the village and up the well trodden path. his form shifting more and more with every step.

He ran to the only place he felt safe.

His eyes fell onto the den not before too long. He just had to get in and seal off the entrance before they reached him. He just had a few more feet to go

*snatch*

#ask game #ficlit #//the whole loyal 3 thing was terrifying for him

[bluegekk0]

Hello, I hope you're having a nice day! regarding the relationship Zote as with the fam, what if someone saw him crying or having a breakdown, how would the members react, and what would Zote do if he was caught on the act? Would he try to hide it or something? (Sorry for the "sad" ask 😅)

He would 100% try to hide it, to the point where I don't think anyone in the family has ever seen him cry, or at the very least they've never seen him have a breakdown. He would never want anyone to witness him at his lowest point, he has to maintain the tough act, and I think he even tries to convince himself that he has no weaknesses.

That's not to say he's never cried. He's been bullied for most of his life, and sometimes that tough guy mask slips, leaving him with a lot of bottled emotions that eventually find a way out. But if he does, it's always when he's sure he's alone, he sees those emotions as weakness and the last thing he wants is to be seen as a crybaby.

What he doesn't realize, is that opening up to the family members would help him greatly. They've all been through a lot, and while they might still struggle when dealing with their traumas, they would never reject him for letting his emotions out. Even Hornet, who often fights and pokes fun at him wouldn't mock him for it - she'd even try to cheer him up in her own way, which would be very awkward, but it's the thought that counts. Holly would be there to support him, they wouldn't be able to say anything helpful, but they'd try to cheer him up with their actions. Lewk has a good sense when it comes to emotions, so even if he doesn't fully understand a lot of them, he instinctively senses sadness in others and then tries to cheer them up (it's something he kind of got from Grimm, except the only emotion Grimm can sense to such extent is fear), and there's no reason why he would make Zote an exception. The twins are similar, they don't have an ability like their bigger brother, but if Zote started sobbing in their presence they would instinctively move closer towards him - Asta in particular would be quick to respond, since she's very protective of Milo whenever he cries.

And lastly, there's Grimm and Vyrm. Vyrm cries a lot, he bottled up his emotions for many years and he finally feels comfortable letting them out, so he more than anyone would understand what Zote's struggling with. There's actually some really neat parallels between them, they both got rejected by their birth family and bullied in their childhood, and spent most of their lives playing the roles of someone they weren't. Though it's worth noting that their reasons for that were a bit different. For Zote, it was a way to fight off the bullying and act like he's better than everyone. Vyrm, on the other hand, did so as a defence mechanism, he was terrified of being rejected and wanted to prove himself, though all it did was put him through constant stress and pain. Either way, they would find something in common if they sat down and talked about it, and if Zote started crying, Vyrm would try his best to be there for him.

Grimm, meanwhile, can't physically cry, so he wouldn't be able to relate to it. But what he compensates with, is his incredible patience when it comes to others dealing with their own emotions. He's good at controlling his own emotions, but does struggle with processing some of them - his behavior after Vyrm's disappearance is a perfect example here, he would distance himself and lash out at others at any minor inconvenience, all because he had trouble processing his grief. What he's definitely good at, is being a listener. He's very patient with Vyrm, he lets him cry on his shoulder and ensures that the wyrm always feels safe in his presence. And while he's nowhere near as close with Zote, he would extend that kindness and support towards him if he ever saw him cry. To some extent, helping others deal with their trauma also helps him process his own emotions. Perhaps it's something that just comes naturally to him, after all, his original purpose was to help mortals overcome their fears whenever he entered their nightmares. Said purpose most certainly didn't foresee him having his own fears and traumas, but it's not too far-fetched to notice the link. Either way, he's supportive of his loved ones, which also includes Zote since he's part of the family.

So in short, they would try to support him, but unfortunately he keeps a lot about himself from them (instead telling lies that make him seem stronger and braver than he is). Because of that, they don't know the full extent of what's haunting him, so perhaps part of him feels like they just wouldn't understand. He's not at a point where he would open up just yet, but perhaps with time he'll do just that. It would be a huge step in his character arc for sure.

#ask stuff #feral pk au #save #zote #hornet #holly #lewk #asta #milo #fpk #vyrm #grimm

[amazingmsme]

Cold Feet

AN: Been wanting to write something like this for a while now, so I’m glad I got to! Sypha & Trevor are couple goals & I need to write more for Castlevania

Sypha could be a downright menace sometimes. Particularly at night, when Trevor was trying to catch up on his precious sleep. She had the coldest fucking feet of anyone he's known, and every night those ice blocks on the ends of her legs would glue themselves to his skin.

"It's because you're so warm," she claimed, snuggling closer, batting her lashes. He rolled his eyes, smiling fondly as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

"I'm not even all that warm. You're just that cold," he teased, burying his face in the crook of her neck. She gasped, scrunching up like a turtle as a breathy giggle escaped.

"The rest of me is fine, but my feet are freezing. Come on, just let me warm them up," she begged, pressing the soles of her feet against his back. He arched away with a squeal, making her burst into giggles.

"Oh you think that's funny?" he asked, leveling her with a mischievous look.

"Immensely so. You know, for such a tough guy you sure can shriek like a girl," she taunted. Trevor scoffed, scooping her up in his arms.

"Watch your mouth. I'm being nice, but I could be very mean if I wanted," he growled. She arched a brow, smirking at him.

"Oh I'm sure you can be," she said in a patronizingly sweet tone. Well, if she didn't believe him, he'd just have to show her.

"You know, I'm a little concerned for you. With such cold feet, you could get frostbite! You'll lose a toe without even knowing, they're already so numb," he said casually, making her sputter and laugh, smacking his shoulder.

"You dork, I'm not gonna lose any of my toes," she giggled. To prove her point, she stuck her foot out of the covers, wiggling her toes. She fell for his trick, hook line and sinker.

In an instant he snatched her by the ankle. She shrieked out of shock, falling into a stream of giggles when he scratched at the arch of her foot. He hummed as he "inspected" her feet, poking and prodding all along her soles, causing the occasional snort.

"Mm. Mm. Mhm. I'm afraid it's worse than I thought," he said in a mock somber tone.

"Whahahat ahare you even tahahalking ahahabout?" she asked between giggles.

"Frostbite's already set it. They're blue!" he exclaimed. They were the same color they'd always been. She gave him an amused look, shaking her head. She adored when he got playful like this. It was a rare sight.

"I have to make sure they're all still present and accounted for," he said, a sly smirk settling on his features. Her eyes widened and she quickly tried to escape, but Trevor was quicker. He started with the big toe on her left foot, wiggling it softly. She squealed before earnest laughter took hold, flowing freely from her mouth.

He began counting aloud, wiggling and pinching each toe. She snorted and cackled, flopping around in his hold like a fish out of water. A loud shriek pierced through the air and Trevor tutted, shaking his head.

"You're so damn loud you made me lose count," he teased, starting over and making her fall deeper into hysterics.

"Ahahand who's fault ihihis thahahat?" she tried to sass, but the endless giggles added an adorable bounce to her voice.

"Yours entirely. Now hold still, I'm trying to help," he teased, scratching at the spot just under her toes. She let out a scream of laughter, scrunching her feet and kicking. He chuckled, readjusting his grip on her legs so that she couldn't move.

"What a shame, I lost count again," he teased, mischief practically oozing out of him.

"We have bigger things to worry about if you can't even count to tehehehen! Noho wahahait!" she cried as he tickled her feet with renewed vigor, probably inspired by the insult.

He finally managed to finish counting, wiggling his fingers between her toes, drawing out a loud snort. He chuckled, letting her go. She immediately curled in a ball, residual giggles fading off. He wrapped her in a hug, pulling her close to his chest.

"Told you I could be mean," he bragged. She rolled her eyes, smacking his chest playfully.

"You didn't have to be that mean," she said, snuggling in the crook of his neck.

"You loved it and you know it," he taunted, loving the way she scoffed and blushed.

"Trevor Belmont, you're going to be the death of me," she scolded.

"As if," he shrugged. It was quiet for a moment, and then, "Hey, your feet are warm now. Maybe I should do this every night."

#tickletober #tickletober 2022 #sypha belnades #trevor belmont #trepha #castlevania #castlevania fic #castlevania tickle fic #ticklish!sypha #day 20: counting

[dirtyglitterr]

ꜰᴀᴛᴇᴅ ʟᴏᴠᴇ

Neymar Jr x Original Character

Summary: IN WHICH CHILDHOOD SWEETHEARTS MEET EACH OTHER AGAIN. WAS IT BY CHANCE OR FATE? HOWEVER, IT IS ALSO POSSIBLE THAT SOME PATHS ARE JUST NOT MEANT TO BE CROSSED EVER AGAIN.

Warnings: Mature Language

ᴘʀᴇᴠɪᴏᴜꜱ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ

ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴀᴛᴄʜᴍᴀᴋᴇʀ

It didn't take Neymar long to catch up to the level of drunkenness the group was at. He, Lionel, and Sergio knew that in the following hours, it would be hell at practice. This wasn't the first time that they'd gone out the night before practice, but tonight was different. They all piled into an SUV on their way to the next club that was on Gigi's list for the night. However, it seems like the night of partying may have to come to an end for at least one member of the group. After only being in the car for ten minutes, Anto received an unexpected call from the boy's nanny, sobering her up almost instantly.

"Babe, you can't leave now." Lionel groaned beside Anto, who was currently on the phone with her panicked nanny.

Anto took the phone away from her ear and said, "Lionel, your son lit the nanny's hair on fire AGAIN!" She hissed, rolling her eyes, and said to her nanny, "I'm so sorry; I'll be home soon." She hung up the phone and turned to the group, "Looks like I have to go deal with my little firestarter."

"That's what boys do they light shit on fire! It's hair; it will grow back." He argued, clearly not understanding the severity of the situation, as the others suppressed their laughter.

"¿Qué tal si te quedo el culo y veo cómo te gusta?" Gigi mocked from the front seat.

Lionel reached his hand out, giving her ear a flick, and said, "threaten me again, and I'll tell Cris that you returned the gift his mom gave you last Christmas."

Georgina turned in her seat to face him with swiftness.

"Te voy a matar, joder," she said, her eyes narrowing. Lionel simply smirked in response, knowing he had the upper hand in this situation.

"How did you end up in this friend group, Flor?" Neymar whispered in her ear, pulling her body closer to his. As they watched on from the backseat.

"There's a reason, but I can't think of it right now." She giggled, "Acho que Anto me sequestrou; não tenho certeza." One thing she was sure of was how naturally she and Neymar gravitated toward each other. And the more the drinks flowed, the closer they got. As the night went on, their flirtatious banter continued, and it was clear to everyone—Lionel mostly of the strong chemistry between them. Lionel couldn't help but chuckle at the situation, knowing that Mia had unknowingly stumbled into a romantic encounter with one of the world's most famous footballers.

While at the club, it was clear to Neymar that Lewis and Charles were into Mia. Why wouldn't they be, unlike the models they were used to. Mia was equally, if not far more, beautiful; she had a bubbly personality that became energetic with alcohol. She was intelligent and easy to talk to about anything. Even though Lewis and Charles had to leave early, Neymar didn't miss how they both made sure to give her their numbers.

Neymar was feeling possessive of Mia and was happy that Lewis and Charles had left early, allowing him to have her all to himself. Maybe his emotions were overly stimulated by the alcohol, but even if he were sober, he knew he'd react the same. Neymar just got her back, and he wasn't feeling having to share her with anyone else.

"You know, Mia, my brother is single—"

"Absolutely not Ramos!" Anto shot down. Neymar watched as Mia laughed at the exchange between Anto and Ramos, feeling a sense of satisfaction that she was still his for the night.

"What's wrong with my brother?" Sergio scoffed, sitting up from where he lay in the seat.

Anto looked over at him and said, "Have you met him!"

Sergio chuckled. "I can't argue with that." He said laying back down.

"What about Hakimi? I've heard from a verified source that he has a thing for you." Lio smiled, looking back at Mia.

"Didn't he just get divorced?" Mia asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Maybe you'll be his next wife." Lio grinned, already sensing whose wife she was about to be by how his boy was laying it down thick in the backseat with Mia. Lio was an observant drunk. He's still able to have a great time, but that never meant he wasn't aware of his surroundings. Especially what was happening between his friends.

He's seen Neymar in his player mode; he's seen how he was in boyfriend mode with his ex before that all blew up after he moved to France. But how he was acting with Mia was different. The guy was smiling so much that Lio thought his face might break in half.

Let's see if his theories are correct. "What about Kaylin—"

"Fuck no."

ᴄᴏɴᴛɪɴᴜᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅɪɴɢ ʙᴇʟᴏᴡ

ɴᴇxᴛ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ

🇹​​🇭​​🇦​​🇳​​🇰​​🇸​ ​🇫​​🇴​​🇷​ ​🇷​​🇪​​🇦​​🇩​​🇮​​🇳​​🇬

#neymar jr #neymar fanfic #neymar jr fanfiction #neymarxreader #neymar psg #fated love #fanfic #football imagines

[heretherebedork]

Mark asks Vee not to explain because all of Vee's friends absolutely believed that he would cheat in that moment and acted on it without hesitation and so Mark cannot help but believe that he did... and no one is going to explain is to Mark except Vee who Mark has no reason to believe?

I actually wish the show had gone harder on everyone abandoning Vee for just a little longer. I felt truly awful for him when he was so isolated and I wanted it to continue just a little longer, I honestly think Vee is better at that kind of pain that Mark is. Yes, Mark cries very well and conveys that agony but Vee feels like someone who lost everything and has no nope of getting it back.

I wanted the episode to end with Vee on the side of the road, staring ahead with blank eyes, telling his brother he wanted to die. I wanted to end on that note with an ache deep in my chest and worry and fear and to let the friendships resume with more comfort than just them instantly going back to mocking him for... not trying to explain to them that he was kissed against his will when they specifically told him not to speak to them?

Honestly, for all that I love Yeewha, I'm also frustrated that not only did she believe Vee was cheating, tell him to stay from Mark and then stayed away from him as well but that when she finally did talk to him again it was to get upset at Vee for... listening to her and not going against her wishes to try to explain anything?

Frankly, I am a bad person and want more Vee angst than Mark angst. They do their pain so differently and I just happen to prefer the way Vee does pain than Mark. Frankly, for all that a show would never do this... I wish they'd gotten to switch position more. I wished the ending had more been about Vee withdrawing and Mark having to worry about him instead.

Now, the show has specifically set that up to not work at all... but I was so hopeful during the motorcycle crash scene that they would do something similar. That they would leave Vee hurt and that Mark would find out the truth from someone else and that he could at least not be against it?

But instead we're having Vee, without telling Mark what actually happened, just declare that he'd pursuing him again... and it doesn't even make sense. Vee has put himself in a worse position than before because not only does Mark think he was cheated on now he thinks Vee doesn't even really regret it and just wants to move on.

He does not think that Vee was kissed against his will, that Ploy regrets ever doing that, that Vee wasn't cheating on him at all and was helping her because her abusive boyfriend was beating her... and why should he forgive Vee if he doesn't know or think any of that? Why put that off? Why hasn't Ploy told him? She knows Vee loved him. She should know Vee lost him after she met his friends.

Just... yes, it's a good messy show and they're doing a good job of it and, yes, they had to do a misunderstanding and now have to give us a bunch more episodes so they can't solve it quickly but, frankly, the fight about Vee calling Mark easy carried so much more depth than this actual break up does and I wish that had been the biggest deal than this is.

This feels more like the episode 11 break up that should be solved almost instantly than the long term break up we're getting.

#love mechanics #love mechanics the series #criticism #meta discussion of narrative #thai bl #thai bl series #thai drama #bl drama #thaibl #thai series #bl series #thai bl meta

[fictodoggo]

7 For Whoever You Want >:3 Use A Random Number Generator Even

7: Laughing together + Roxanne Wolf

It was the very end of the day at Freddy Fazbear's Mega Pizzaplex. Guests were filing out slowly, dragging along their ever protesting children, who begged and cried for just one more picture, one more go at their favourite arcade machine, one more treat from the Fazcafé for the road. Attractions grew quieter until there was nothing but silence and the occasional sound of an animatronic enjoying their free time now that the place was closing.

One such place happened to be Roxy's Raceway, absent now of the usual ruckus of squealing tires and revving engines. But if one were close to the salon, they'd just be able to make out the casual chatter between a wolf and her special little Pizzaplex employee.

"No way a customer said that to you," Roxy scoffed, brushing a second coat of neon green onto her claws and admiring the sparkle in the light, amber eyes lidded at her own magnificence. Harland stood behind the seated animatronic, carefully brushing her beautiful mane of hair; something no one else would dare even ask to do.

"Yep! And then he had the nerve to be like, 'I want to speak to your manager,' after he tried to say I was stealing from him!" Harland mocked the customer by lowering their voice and shifting pitch between syllables. Roxy snorted a laugh and capped her nail polish, leaning back and stretching.

"Yeah, well, he's just lucky I wasn't there!" She proclaimed proudly, swiveling in her seat suddenly, catching Harland off guard. They stumbled a bit, only to have Roxanne quickly grab both their hands and pull them close, so the tip of their nose lightly booped her muzzle.

Harland giggled, though their face was bright red from the proximity. "Uh-huh, and what would you have been able to do? You have protocols, y'know. Can't enact violence against guests." Their tone was teasing, but Roxy took it as a challenge.

"Tickling someone to death doesn't count as violence," Roxy's grin turned evil and Harland's face dropped. Before they could so much as squeak in surprise, Roxy had pulled them forward into her lap so they were straddling her. Then Roxy used her freshly painted claws to dig into Harland's sides, delivering littles pokes and gentle scritches from under their arms down to their hips and back up again.

Harland squealed in delight, able to get away if they wanted but apparently not inclined enough, just squirming in place and half-heartedly pushing at Roxy's hands. Roxy laughed too, not her usual "on-stage" laugh, but her full, boisterous laugh. After a few minutes, Roxy's fingers slowed until they simply rested on Harland's hips. The wolf nuzzled into Harland's hair with one last affectionate chuckle as Harland's breaths slowed back to normal.

"I think, uh," they started, purring as Roxy buried her nose into a sensitive spot on their scalp. "I think this would get you in equal trouble with a customer…"

"Good thing you're not a customer," Roxy snickered, pulling back to look down at Harland's white uniform, which was now stained with streaks of green nail polish. She 'tsk'ed. "My nails are gonna need re-done now…"

"I'll do 'em for you, for a price," Harland grinned up at Roxy. The wolf leaned a little closer.

"Oh yeah? What's it gonna cost me?" She grinned back, already knowing the answer. Harland didn't need to reply, just leaned closer until–

"Awwww!" Harland and Roxy both froze at the familiar voice. "Aren't you two just the cutest little lovebugs I've ever seen!" They both glanced over to see Chica standing in the doorway, hands clapped together over her chest and grinning. Harland quickly scrambled off of Roxy's lap, their face bright red. In the same breath, Roxy had picked up a makeup palette and was aiming it directly at Chica's head.

"Chica!" The wolf growled, ears pinned back in annoyance at being interrupted. "Haven't ya ever heard of knocking?!"

"On glass?" Chica asked, tapping lightly on the salon doors, which were, indeed, glass. The makeup palette came soaring over anyway but crashed harmlessly against the ground as Chica ducked with an alarmed squawk.

"Mean!" Chica huffed, crossing her arms with a pout. "I just came to get you for the last photoshoot of the day! Freddy sent me! You know how he is about getting a last photo everyday with all of us! It means a lot to him!"

Roxy sighed. Ever since Bonnie had "disappeared", it had been Freddy's request that all four Glamrocks get together for a family photo before everyone went to their rooms for the night. It'd be a bit heartless to start skipping now. "Yeah, yeah, I'll be there. Just give me two seconds."

Chica grinned again and gave a big thumbs up before she left the two alone again, completely unphased by anything that had just happened. Harland twiddled their thumbs and looked at Roxy. "So, uh–"

Before they could continue, Roxy had pulled them close to give them a quick peck on the lips and an affectionate cheek nuzzle before pulling away and flipping her hair over her shoulder as she usually did. "Meet me in my party room and we can hang out some more, okay?"

Red-faced and dumbstruck, Harland just nodded, and Roxy gave a little laugh before finally turning and leaving the salon after Chica. Harland could hear the chicken's pleased warble as the wolf caught up with her and the two started chatting, growing distant. They touched their cheek and sighed, then shook their head and quickly began cleaning up the small mess from the encounter.

It wouldn't do to leave a mess when they were about to get a reward in just a little bit.

#UMMMM HOW DID THIS END UP BEING 1K WORDS. HI. #🐺 #posting.txt

[radkindoffeminist]

I just need to vent a little and you have seemed to read the very very few anons i have sent you in the past. The shit show of the Heard vs Depp case is frustrating to me. It has shown that for the public eye there needs to be, is required to have the most perfect female victim and if she isn't the public's idea of the perfect victim then she "a lying whore". But that's most certainly not the case for Depp. He can act and do fuck all he wants. His behavior is not and will never be.. part 1

scrutinized to the degree Heard's has. She wipes her nose and suddenly she's a bitch doing cocaine in court. He's laughing and smiling (not the typical victim behavior) and no one bats an eye or some will turn around and say he deserves to laugh and smile. They'd have crucified her way more if she had acted anything near like him. No one cares that 9 years ago was the text he made about killing her and raping her. That she spoke about being raped. That he confessed in a text to being the one to cut his own finger in that same situation. He confessed in a text to severing his own finger and no one cares. But she can't remember the specific brand of alcohol of bottle she accused him of using to rape her and it "must be a lie". That ex gf that claims otherwise? Wasn't she the one to have broken up with him out of fear of being abused by him because she saw his violent tendencies! It doesn't matter if she wins, the damage is done and now a rape victim will be sued

They ignore any evidence which goes against him, call Amber a liar, and scrutinise everything about her. I've seem so few people even acknowledge the texts he’s sent and other evidence that we have proof of. How can you ignore texts saying that he wanted to rape and kill her? How are you so blind to not even consider that that’s an awful thing to say? Even if you were to take the side of him being a victim here, you don't just casually text your friends saying you want to rape your abuser?

And then everything Heard said has been mocked. The shit in the bed? Made into a meme. Dog stepped on a bee? Meme. Her describing how Depp raped her? Trending sound on TikTok with people saying they would have enjoyed it. Using a make up palette as an example? Apparently you meant that exact one so the make up company had to tweet that it wasn't even out during their relationship and now she's a liar... Even though no one ever claimed that she used that exact one, people just love to read it that way. Everything she’s said is mocked and she is called a liar constantly. I heard someone explain why they support Depp and it was basically one audio recording of Heard screaming abuse at him. That's what it took. One fucking recording. But all the recordings and texts and other evidence we have for Depp being the abuser in the relationship? Nah, just ignore all of that shit.

She smiled in court once and people called her a psychopath and talked about how that one smile is proof of her being an abuser. She cried and it's crocodile tears. She jumped back from Depp out of fear and she’s acting. And now she acts blankly and almost without emotions and she’s a psychopath. People used every expression she showed to call her an abuser because they are so biased towards Depp that they couldn't see any other point of view. Meanwhile, his smiling and laughing and doodling during a fucking court hearing is him ‘dealing with trauma’ and ‘letting out his inner child’. I am not saying that all victims act the same way but are you fucking kidding me? What victim, while being forced through a public trial by their abuser as well as being forced in the same room as them for six weeks, is laughing and smiling and messing about during the trial? Actually, what type of person goes to court just to fuck about? That's so unbelievably unprofessional and childish.

Everyone has already decided who the victim and who the abuser is. Actually, everyone decided long before this case, which effectively serves to prove what actually happened, who the victim and abuser are which is so much worse. And so everything else about it is just confirmation bias: Heard’s actions prove that she’s an abuser; Depp’s prove that he’s a victim. And anything which suggests the opposite is a lie or just ignored. I've already seen people begin to explain why Heard might win this case even though Depp is the ‘real victim’ (basically that Heard just has to prove that Depp did abuse her on at least one occasion which is a massive oversimplification of a six week trial) because they just can't conceive of the idea that the reason Depp has lost every single case relating to their relationship is because he’s actually an abuser.

[wolftails-funkin-arts]

Here are Infinitys older sibling's lol

Cosmo:Infinitys only sister and is the youngest of Infinitys older sibling's. She's a loving sister and really kind person. Although she does have a sassy attitude at times but is there. Often usually discovering other planet's with her older brothers so they rarely see Infinity. Despite this their among one of the only real normal Collector families. She does have a bit of depression since she doesn't have a twin and is the only girl.....UNTIL she met Redstar (whose hair are the same) and they immediately fell in love. Yes she's lesbian and actively dating Red and Purplestar....but she has a decent relationship with Blue and Greenstar. But when she met the other girlstars she felt conflicted cause she found them all really cute.....but when she overheard/ saw them cuddling/bring flirty with the others......she.........was....HAPPY AS HECK. Which essentially made them all get a few extra girlfriends...she's really supportive of her girlfriends insecurities and would be really supportive of Betas issues.....she also likes bragging about how she's dating hotties(she's the only one whose not single)

Sexuality:Homosexual

Nova:He's one of the twins alongside his brother Sirius...and the two are roughly exactly the same in personality. They actively both support Cosmo being lesbian and her being polyamourus (to be honest if you were to come out infront of Collector's they probably won't care)....also fun fact when Infinity was a baby he challenged him to a crawling race....Infinity beat him by 20 seconds and was salty about it....which his siblings give him stuff about all the time (Infinity had no memory of this)....but they do get along perfectly well. He often writes about the species while Sirius reads books about it....but every now and then they randomly switch sometimes.

Sexuality:Heterosexual

Sirius:The other twin and bookworm. The two are usually calm and collected and often think things through. He read a sad book and waa sensitive for 3 billion years (so whenever he mocks Nova about the crawl Nova can mock him).....but still. He can finish books about the history of universes/planets/species really quickly and had knowledge of thousands of species/planet's etc. Nova also has the knowledge and Cosmo....their all just about equal in terms of knowledge

Sexuality:Heterosexual

Atlas:The oldest and looks similar to Infinity. He's often quite and shy but is a sweety. He usually is in charge of the four when it comes to assignments or something but usually goes off on his own....also is aro ace sooo Cosmo doesn't taunt him....so in terms of personality/ character he's like B3 Infinity

Sexuality:Aro ace

Facts

Theyd definitely get along well with the other Infinitys and would be disgusted at what Soft Infinitys family did to him

Only Cosmo is polyamourus

They hated The Archivists when they were shrunk to their size but nowadays they don't hate them as much

Theyd definitely keep an eye out on Zodwa but they like her

Their probably one of the only actual functioning families

Theyd LOVE baby Infinity and would be excited finally getting their baby brother back

Theyd get along with the boy,girlfriends and Picos (even though they were kinda pricks to Infinity initially but you'll see why....though)

Theyd also get along well with Zion and his sibling's

B3 Infinity is probably Atlases favorite Infinity (not counting the OG or baby one)

They do have the B3,Neo,British and Minus versions but they might not appear....but they'd like them

Cosmo is the most sensitive and definitely cries(the others don't)

Cosmos brothers are probably not aware of how lonely she feels until they overhear Cosmo going over time with Redstar

Cosmo has some good muscles

In a hypothetical scenario if someone showed Infinity the ***** mod (I'll let you guess what mod it is.......) and it traumatizes him their all hunting that person down

They would be GENUINELY surprised when they heard about Infinity roasting Luz and her pals (and be really proud)

They can tolerate cigars or cigarettes none of them smoke though

Atlas is usually quite for no real reason

Cosmo would be pretty flustered with Minus Redstar (she"d also fall for her hypnotic heartbeat pretty easily)

Aight probably tonight will be Zion and his sibling's

Wowie :O