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selenezq · 6 months ago

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🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞MDNI🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞

CW: dub con, loss of control, sex pollen trope

Pairing Alastor x Reader

Reader is AFAB

Edited by the lovely @the-demon-of-a-thousand-eyes

But That's A Freaky Sex Flower

It is a beautiful day in Hell, about as pretty as it gets, really. You take in all the sights and smells as you walk along the sidewalk. You are heading to the store, on an errand for the hotel, when the most lovely flower catches your eye. Coming to a standstill, you bend down to get a closer look.

Pink petals with a beautiful, intricate, black design surrounded a lovely red center. You bring your nose down to get a whiff, inhaling its saccharine scent. Gently plucking it, you tuck it into your hair to wear as a beautiful accessory.

You’ve never seen anything like it before. Excited by your new discovery, you find some extra pep in your step as you walk the short distance to and inside the store. You pass the aisles filled with various foods, houseware goods, and personal items, reading the signs above each one until you see the one you need. You turn left to walk down the aisle, looking around until you see what you had come for: some pens and paper.

Reaching your hands out you gingerly grab them. As you leave the area and make your way through the store to checkout, you suddenly begin to feel warm. Placing your items on the counter, you give a kind smile to the store clerk. "It's a scorcher out there today, isn't it?" You ask congenially.

"Nah, it's not that hot," the cashier responds curtly followed by rather rude eye roll as they ring your items up, then tell you with a monotone voice, "Your total will be $7.93.”

Quickly pulling the money out, you pay for the items. With a smile and a wave despite their rudeness, you head out of the store and are on your way back to the hotel. Walking back, you feel like it's getting hotter out by the second. In an attempt to cool off, you undo the top button of your blouse. As you continue walking home, a drop of sweat trickles its way down your neck.

After what seems to take an eternity, your journey back to the hotel comes to a close. You feel a sense of profound relief at finally being able to get inside out of the heat of the Hellish sun. Opening the door, you step into the hotel, dropping the shopping bag on the nearest surface before throwing yourself onto the couch in the lobby.

"Heya Toots, how’ya doin’?" Angel Dust asks you as you attempt to regulate your breathing. Has it always been this scorching in the hotel? You wonder to yourself.

"I'd be better if the weather cooled off a little." You mutter, a little irritated, the poor attitude unusual for you. You bring your hand up to wipe at the sweat now threatening to drip down your chest. "I did find this pretty flower though." You say, a smile returning to your face as you turn your head to show Angel the beautiful bloom that is adorning your hair.

"Oh toots, that's not a regular flower, it's a freaky sex flower. It's used as an ingredient in the love potion Val makes," Angel says somberly, leaning forward to get a better look. "How long ‘ave ya had it on ya?" He asks with genuine concern. "It can be pretty potent when undiluted." He finishes with a worried frown.

"Probably a little over an hour," you say, beginning to freak out. "How long does it take before it starts to affect someone?" You ask, your tone rising with your temperature.

"Well, love potions usually act pretty quick; I'd guess such a concentrated dose of the aphrodisiac, directly from the pollen’s faster ya know?" Angel theorizes aloud.

"Fuck,” you mumble as you pulled the flower from your hair quickly before tossing it into the trash, as if to pretend it never happened. "Is there an antidote I could possibly take?" You enquire, your tone laced with apprehension.

"Nope, ya gotta fuck someone to get it out of ya system," Angel replied, trying his best not to laugh. "Ya know, I've actually got someone I could ca-"

"NO." You blurt out instantly to shut his idea down. "I mean," you clear your throat uncomfortably, then finish hurriedly, "that's not necessary, but thank you for offering."

"Okay but, you're in for more than mild discomfort if ya don't find someone to help ya." Angel warns you, still trying to get you to see the situation clearly.

"I can handle myself; just please don't tell anyone." You ask the spider demon, deciding to keep this development a secret. You fail to notice the shadow in the corner that had been listening the entire time. You stand up, a wave of arousal shooting straight to your core making you feel almost dizzy.

Composing yourself as much as you can, you bid farewell to Angel Dust and head towards the staircase. As your footsteps lead you closer to the next floor, you grip the railing for support as a particularly painful bolt of arousal sweeps through you, causing an intense ache in between your thighs. When the pain level rises from mild discomfort to something more, you begin to move as quickly as you can down the hallway to your room.

Reaching your room at long last, you hastily grab the doorknob only for your sweaty, clammy hands to slide right off if it. Struggling with the knob for what feels like an eternity, you finally manage to get it open and gain access to your room. Slamming it shut behind you with a bang, you throw yourself onto your bed as another sharp ache wracks your body.

Deciding to take matters into your own hands, you open the drawer to your nightstand, reaching around until you feel the cool silicon material of your most trusted toy. With a sound of triumph, you pull the vibrator out and set it onto the bed. Turning it on with a click, you pull your panties to the side and bring the pulsating object to rest on your throbbing clit as a loud moan of relief rips itself from your mouth.

Your pussy already soaked from the effects of the pollen, the toy slides right into you with ease and you cry out in relief. You can't remember a time this ever felt so good. The toy vibrates right where you need it and the feeling of an orgasm creeps up quickly. Your back arches off the bed as you finish loudly. The toy continues buzzing as you lay there in the aftershock of it.

Pressing the button to turn the device off, a contented sigh leaves your lips as you remove the vibrator from your cunt with a wet noise. The relief your orgasm brought is short-lived, however. because the painful aching feeling quickly returns. Your walls clench and spasm needily around nothing but air. A feeling of desperation quickly rises inside you.

Just as the tears of frustration are about to fall from your wide, blown-out eyes, you hear a knock at the door. Hastily, you shove the sex toy away in its drawer and you pull your panties and skirt back into their proper place. Lurching towards the door as hastily as you can, you try your best to avoid falling amid the dizzy feeling that overtakes you.

Another knock sounds, followed by Alastor's voice calling out, "Everything alright, my dear?" Just the very sound of his voice has your cunt gushing, the aching sensation heightening to a new degree.

Trying to appear as composed as you can, you open the door and greet him, "Hey Alastor, I'm feeling just fine."

"Are you quite sure about that? You look rather flushed," He says, his gaze on your red, damp, complexion. Alastor places his hand on your face and your pulse quickens, you feel as if your blood is boiling you alive. You’d do anything to have his hands lower, where you ache the most.

Letting out an audible gasp, you cut it off before it fades into a moan, the sensation of his skin on yours sending a pleasurable tingling down to your very core.

"I just don't think that's true." Alastor states, pushing his way past you into your room. You stumble, and he reaches a hand out to steady you, gripping your arm firmly.

When Alastor touches you this time, an embarrassing, obscene, moan leaves your lips. The warmness of his skin makes the point of contact feel as if it is on fire. You wonder briefly, Would he touch me there, if I asked him to?

"Whatever is the matter, darling? Could it be that you need something? You'll have to use your words if there’s something you desire." He finishes, smirking down at you.

"I want you to touch me, please." You whine needily as you look up at him. Your eyes shine with desperation.

"Ah, I'm afraid you'll have to be a bit more specific, dear, as I am already touching you." He says, voice full of his usual snark. His signature smile widens, gaze falling to where his hand is still on your forearm, steadying you. You look away bashfully before his other clawed hand comes up to cradle your chin, tilting it up so your gaze meets his crimson one.

"Alastor, please, be kind to me just this once." You plead, voice soft.

"I'm being plenty kind, checking up on you, asking how you're faring, and what you might need." Alastor says, his tone warning. "Now tell me what you need, in better detail." His commanding tone leaves no room for disobedience.

Giving him one last pleading look, you let out a breathy sigh before letting the words fall from your lips, "I need you to touch my cunt, please, Alastor."

"There; that wasn't so hard now was it, my dear?" He says with a winning smile. Alastor pushes you back up against the door, caging you in with his much larger body. He lets his hand trail agonizingly slowly down the curve of your breasts, before playing with the hemline of your skirt. "I could do anything to you right now and you would thank me for it wouldn't you, darling?" Alastor remarks, his grin widening almost sinisterly.

"Yes, please, please help me relieve this burning and aching. I can't take much more." You almost sob out.

"Well, now, we shan’t keep a lady waiting then. I do have manners after all." He declares before hooking his hand in the waistband of your skirt. With a firm yank, he has the garment falling down to your feet. Alastor quickly rips your panties to shreds with a flick of his sharp claws. His fingers find your throbbing clit and begin tracing circles.

"Ah, ah, yes please." You moan in relief, his fingers already providing so much more comfort than your own did. It feels so divine. Bringing his other hand down, he slips one finger into your soaking cavern. Alastor starts pumping it in and out of you as you lean against the door for support. Adding a second digit, and then a third, your lips form an ‘o’ of pleasure. The nosies his fingers make as they push in and out of you are almost pornographic.

It feels pleasurable, but you find yourself craving more, the throbbing you feel in your cunt needing something much bigger. "Please sir, I need more. I want your cock." You beg prettily.

"I'm inclined to reward you for asking so politely." Alastor remarks. Pulling his hand out of you, he brings your juices to his mouth, licking his fingers clean. The movement almost distracts you from the empty feeling between your legs. Before the aching sensation has a chance to return he's spinning you around, face pressed against the wall, bent at the waist. The motion forces your cunt up so he has a better view of it.

Licking his lips hungrily, Alastor takes one hand off your lovely form to undo his trousers. You hear the sound of the zipper moving down before his massive cock springs free. Without warning, he is shoving all of those so many inches inside of you, burying himself to the hilt. He lets out a shuddering groan feeling your tight warmth around him.

You wail as you feel the tip of him press into your cervix. This is the feeling of fullness you’ve been dying for.

"That's it, isn't it, my doe. You just needed to be filled by my cock, didn't you?" He coos softly into your ear, each word punctuated by a hard thrust. His hips snap into yours, each upward movement sending the most delicious sparks through your body.

"Yes Alastor; I needed you," You moan out as his movements become faster and harder. The sound of slapping skin fills the room as his slams his hard member into your dripping cunt. His hand finds its way to your clit again, moving in time with his quickened thrusts. The feeling of your orgasm barreling towards you reaches its peak and you cum on his cock with a shout. Alastor feels your soft pussy walls clenching tighyly around him and he continues to fuck you through your climax, chasing his own release.

With a growl, he finishes inside of you, his cock throbbing as he paints your walls with his cum in powerful spurts. He tightens his claws around your waist, leaving marks on your skin where his sharp tips press into you. Bringing the hand from your oversensitive clit up and away, Alastor strokes your hair gently while you are lost in the haze of fucked-out bliss.

"Tell me; did you really think you could satisfy yourself, my dear? You should have come right to me. Hopefully you are feeling more like yourself now." He hums, pulling out of you gently. Taking you into his arms with ease, he carries you to your bed before tucking you in tenderly. "Rest now darling; your body needs it." He tells you, planting a gentle kiss on your temple. You slip easily into slumber, lulled by the effects of your post-orgasm elation.

#alastor #hazbin hotel #alastor the radio demon #hazbin alastor #alastor x you #alastor x reader #alastor smut #alastor x you smut #alastor x reader smut #sex pollen #hazbin hotel alastor #SeleneZQ

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autumnmobile12 · 3 months ago

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My Hero Academia: Scientific Terminology for Quirks

At least scientific terms that I think would be used in this world on academic papers and so on. Like how 'Quirk' seems to a layman's term or widely accepted slang while 'meta-ability' is the more technical word used.

...

Aves Class Homo Sapien: Avian-based heteromorph Quirks

Binate-Quirk: A Quirk comprised of two separate and/or unrelated abilities. (Example: Shouto's fire and ice.)

Combustion Immunodeficiency Disorder*: The condition of not having a resistance and/or immunity to fire in spite of having a fire-based Quirk. (Example: Touya.)

Mammalia Class Homo Sapien: Mammal-based heteromorph Quirk

Nonlinear Mutation Phenomenon: The circumstance in which a child is born with a Quirk that has no obvious origin from either parent. (Example: Eri being born with Rewind despite neither of her parents having a Quirk like that.)

Reptilia Class Homo Sapien: Reptile-based heteromorph Quirk

Sentient Animalia Meta-Ability Manifestation Phenomenon: A rare occurrence in which a non-human organism manifests a Quirk. (Example: Nezu.)

Sentient Meta-Ability Phenomenon: A Quirk that has conscious thought, self-awareness, and can communicate with its host and/or other people. (Examples: Tokoyami's Dark Shadow and Rody's Pino.)

Triune-Quirk: A Quirk comprised of three separate and/or unrelated abilities. (Example: Nine's Weather Quirk; his control over precipitation (water), wind, and lightning (electricity.)

Tetrad-Quirk: A Quirk comprised of four separate and/or unrelated abilities. (Unheard of in MHA's canon, but basically what Aang's (ATLA) Quirk would be if he were an MHA character, control over water, earth, fire, and air.)

Vanishing Meta-Ability Syndrome: The sudden and inexplicable loss of one's Quirk. (The technical medical jargon used to describe AFO's actions before doctors realized there was a person behind it, but I can also see sudden Quirk loss happening as a result of a traumatic event, whether it's a physical injury or psychological damage.)

...

*Immunodeficiency is a condition in which the immune system is in some way impaired or absent, generally resulting from a missing component in genetic makeup. Since skin is part of the immune system and Touya's genetic disparity presents itself as his body not having the natural resistance to his fire-Quirk that it's supposed to, I would think doctors in the My Hero 'verse would probably classify that condition as a form of congenital immunodeficiency. That is a word that I can see being slightly redefined/adjusted to suit new medical issues that appeared with the advent of superpowers since I doubt he's the only one who has complications involving an incompatible Quirk.

#my hero academia #quirks #headcanons #scientific terms #boku no hero academia #bnha #mha #fanworks #personal #incomplete lists #fanfiction #fanfic writing #i may reblog later and add to it

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demonicbaby666 · 1 year ago

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Anywhere, Everywhere

One shot | Supergirl Masterlist | Masterlists

Fandom: Supergirl

Pairing: Supercorp

Genre: Angst, fluff and smut

Words: 4.1k+

Warnings: 18+, minors DNI, fingering, oral sex, idiots in love

Summary: Lena's been avoiding Kara, and she's not entirely sure why. But after too many cancelled lunches and meet-ups, Kara decides to find out.

A/n: Listen, this wasn't exactly proofread immaculately, but I'm low-key off my game, so I hope it's still an enjoyable read.

Kara always knows when Lena is stressed. She can hear it in her voice, see it in the slips of her always solid stature, feel it in the rapid thrums of a once steady heartbeat.

It isn’t unusual for the brunette to be stressed, what with her being CEO and constantly juggling project after project. However, what is, is her sudden reluctance to seeing Kara. The journalist has repeatedly tried to arrange lunches, dinners and movie nights. Anything and everything she knows usually alleviates some of the extraordinary pressure that comes with Lena’s day-to-day workload. It’s just that Lena says she’s busy or agrees, then cancels at the last minute with the increasingly frequent excuse of ‘I’m overloaded at work’, adding a less-than-reassuring ‘another time, I promise.’

For what it’s worth, Kara does try not to take it to heart. She’s more than privy to work seizing control of every aspect of her life. It’s only that there’s been a silent agreement between herself and Lena that they manage to find time for one another, no matter the circumstances. So, for the life of her, Kara can’t work out what is so important to Lena that trumps spending time with her best friend. But she decides enough is enough. She’s going to get to the bottom of this, even if it means exerting a little more force than necessary.

“Miss Luthor isn’t seeing anyone at the mo-” before Lena’s assistant has time to finish, the super is past her, barging through the doors into Lena’s immaculately clean office. Everything is in its place. The only thing that appears to be in disarray is Lena, who sits at her cluttered desk. There are mountains of paperwork surrounding her, and one would assume there is no order to them, but it’s Lena, after all, so there most certainly is a system in place.

“I’m sorry, Miss Luthor, I tried to stop her.” The sullen assistant says, looking rather down on herself.

Razor-sharp eyes flicker up to the commotion bursting through the doors. Lena takes in Kara and her flustered assistant. The blonde appears fine, but Lena can see beneath the surface. Kara is on edge. She can see and feel her best friend's eyes studying every inch of her for anything out of the ordinary. Hell, Kara’s fingers and legs are twitching, like she’s holding herself back from jumping Lena right then and there.

She takes a moment to brush through her hair and release a well-needed exhale before standing up and walking to the pair.

“It’s alright,” the brunette says to her assistant with a smile. The poor thing looks like she needs it, “For the future, it’d be best to let Kara be the exception to my no-visitors rules.” She takes a brief pause and looks at the blonde as she finishes talking to her assistant, ushering her out of the room, “I wouldn’t want to put you in the crosshairs of her wrath when she’s being denied something she wants.”

The door hinges creak to a halt, and the two are alone. As the CEO predicted, Kara doesn’t wait a second, blurting out, “Lena, what’s going on?”

It comes out rushed and is likely too fast for anyone to understand. But Lena lets out a resigned sigh before answering, proving she’s so in sync with Kara that her jargon and fast-paced ramblings are a second language at this point.

“Nothing is going on,” she brushes off the question, sashaying back to her desk to haphazardly look over the stacks of papers, “I’ve been busy, that’s all.”

“You’ve been avoiding me,” Kara tries again.

She knows. The CEO knows she’s been doing precisely that. The reason Lena is so averse to owning up to her actions is simply that she’ll have to tell her best friend the actual reason she’s been dodging all her calls, texts, and meet-ups is because she is undeniably and insanely head over heels for her. And that isn’t an option.

It started small, crept up on her without her knowledge. She’d stare at Kara and find herself lost in the way her smile made her cheeks jut out like a little chipmunk. She’d watch wisps of soft blonde hair fly about in the wind whenever Kara came to her rescue and became drunk with the need to run her fingers through them. She’d crave Kara in such a primal way it no longer felt like she was missing a friend when Kara wasn’t there, but a piece of herself.

It was the amalgamation of all these small quirks that began to drive Lena crazy. She told herself to ignore it. To ignore the butterflies in her stomach whenever Kara's name was mentioned, to ignore the sickening fright that arose every time the blonde went on a mission, ignore the overpowering urge to engulf Kara into her arms and never let her go.

Then, one night, when the two shared a parting hug, Lena came to the conclusion that being in Kara’s arms - feeling her strength and warmth and the safety provided - was her everything. Kara was her home. The smell of sunshine and honied tulips meant that the walking embodiment of joy was around the corner. Kara was her safe place. But Kara was also her best friend, the most important person in her life.

When she realised the cons vastly outweighed the pros of fessing up to her true feelings, Lena made the tough decision to suffer in silence rather than do anything to jeopardise their friendship. After that night, her relationship with the woman in question suddenly became both too much and not enough. It was happy yet melancholy, fun yet draining. She felt filled with so much love, but none of it was without a chestful of aching yearning. So naturally, she pulled back.

Still, reminding herself of her justifications does nothing to alleviate the guilt she feels. The hurt evident on Kara’s face is not lost on Lena, and she’s filled with the need to reach out and fling herself into those strong arms because if anything can put a smile on the blonde’s face, it’s a hug. Alas, she can’t. She can’t because if she does, she’ll never want to leave Kara's welcoming embrace. She’ll get too comfortable in the arms of someone always willing to catch her. So Lena stands her ground- or rather, remains seated.

“Honestly, Kara,” she starts, “It’s work being-”

Lena, however, isn’t granted the opportunity to finish because Kara speeds over to her, spins her chair and grasps firmly onto the sides. If Lena hadn’t known her best friend possessed abilities, she’d have been somewhat worried. But she also knows better than to think Kara would ever think to lay a hand on her.

“Stop lying,” the blonde said firmly, eyes burning the lies straight out of Lena’s mouth.

Her tone of voice sends shivers down Lena’s spine, and she has to hold back a whimper. The authority Kara wields in times like these is downright illegal. During missions, outings, and interrogations - especially interrogations - when Lena is granted the pleasure of seeing Kara in an all-too-tight suit and wielding her power of submission, the CEO often finds her body her worst enemy.

When she’s with Kara, she’s on fire. She’s electric. She’s embarrassingly and uncharacteristically so fucking turned on she’s having to squeeze her legs together and fuck herself to exhaustion the following evening. It’s a constant cycle of shame, and the cycle begins anew with the object of her desires so close, so close. She cranes her head up. Too close.

There’s a sudden meekness in Kara as her crystal-blue eyes look intently into Lena’s greens. “Have I done something?” she asks, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth.

The blonde is leaning over her, and her grip on the arms of the chair hasn’t loosened at all - Lena figures this out when she tries and fails to push herself away from the proximity of Kara’s scolding warmth.

“It’s not you,” the CEO mutters, her resolve fizzling away as the pout on Kara’s face grows more and more prominent.

The moment is becoming increasingly charged, and Lena can’t stand it. The truth is right in reach, but a lie begs to save her. Kara is, as always, patient. Silent. Waiting. Lena feels sick. Tears are beginning to sting the back of her eyes, and Lillian’s words echo in her head. She’s telling her to show no weakness, to stop being so pathetic. She’s a Luthor, for god's sake.

But Kara is so close, maybe closer than before, and she doesn’t know if that’s her doing or the blonde’s. For a brief moment, her eyes flicker south. She watches as lips part and hears Kara’s breath hitch. Their eyes are on each other again, and Kara is leaning in. No, they’re both leaning in. The air between them is thick and hot, shared as they take turns to warm the other's lips with shaky breaths.

Lena can smell Kara’s sweet perfume and the floral laundry detergent on Kara’s clothes. She closes her eyes. The peppermint lingering on Kara’s breath is sharp as it travels up Lena’s nose; the scent awakens her senses and pebbles her skin in susceptive goosebumps. They’re so close. Too close.

A blaring ringtone bulldozes the moment, snapping the two women apart at an alarming rate. They stay stark still, staring at each other in astonishment as the room fills with an uncomfortable heat, and Kara’s phone seems to get louder and louder.

Kara is the one to break their heated staring contest, turning to her discarded bag on the couch and reaching for the pesky device.

With her jaw clenched and her feet pressing firmly against the ground, Lena turns to her paperwork. She tunes out the sound of who she assumes is Alex talking to Kara and shuns herself for letting whatever just happened to happen.

From the corner of her eye, the brunette sees Kara pacing. She looks like she’s composed herself, nonchalantly humming and nodding along as she carefully listens to the information being fed to her over the phone. Lena can practically see the cogs turning in the super’s head, and her thrumming heart and clouded mind grow envious of how Kara seems to have moved on so quickly from the heated moment that arose only seconds ago.

The call is over, and silence engulfs the office. The tension is palpable; it’s suffocating. No one speaks, and Lena keeps her eyes on legal documents, pretending not to notice Kara staring, waiting.

“I should go,” the blonde finally says after sighing and turning to place her phone back in her bag.

Lena doesn’t so much as look up because she knows if she does, she’ll break. She’s letting Kara leave. She’s letting the one person she loves and will always love walk away for what feels like the last time.

“Be safe,” is all she can mumble as Kara exits.

And then she’s crying.

————————————————

Lena’s lying on her couch after spending most of the evening bawling. Her eyes are sore, and her throat burns from the scotch she’s been nursing. It fails to calm her, and she’s not even tipsy, just painfully tired from an exhausting day.

Unaware that she had fallen asleep, Lena awakens to find herself wrapped in a pair of strong arms. Her head rests on Kara’s chest alongside her hand, and she can hear a steady heartbeat thrum under her ear.

It’s always been like this. The pair have never shied away from intimacy. Hugs, cuddles, and the occasional kiss have always been common occurrences. But now it feels different. Of course, it’s still comforting - it’s Kara, after all - but it’s filled with longing for more. Lena doesn’t want a parting kiss on the cheek, a momentary hug, or to cuddle during a movie while subconsciously counting down the minutes until the film ends and Kara has to leave. She doesn’t want temporary. She chastises herself for being greedy and ungrateful for wanting more but can’t help it. Once she tasted what it felt like to be complete, loved and untroubled, it became impossible to give it up.

“I’m not leaving until you tell me what’s going on,” Kara whispers delicately into Lena's dark hair, absentmindedly drawing circles over her back. “Even if it takes all night.”

“Oh, Kara,” Lena concedes and looks up, “you have no idea what you do to me.” Her thoughts come swiftly to berate her - curse her for slipping up and revealing too much.

Those blue eyes stare at her, and a faint smile paints soft pink lips. There's so much warmth in Kara’s eyes that Lena can’t even feel the breeze coming in from the open balcony doors (which certainly weren't left open on the off chance Kara decided to drop by). Her heart hammers against her chest, and the longer Kara stares, the faster it gets.

Hands come up to cup the brunette’s face, and her best friend bites her lip before heavily exhaling, “Then tell me.”

“I can’t,” she tries to turn away, but Kara holds her still, “I can’t lose you.”

“You never will. No matter what,” the journalist whispers, her gaze honest and sure, thumbs caressing the sharp curves of Lena’s jaw, “What can I do to prove that?”

“Kara,” her heart is racing so viciously that Lena thinks she may pass out; her palms are sweaty, and her head is spinning. She’s making a mistake. Kara’s soft lips are right there. She looks down. Kara’s eyes do the same. A thumb traces her bottom lip, and the CEO is no longer thinking straight. Lena wants this. She needs this, “Kiss me.”

She watches her best friend's expression change from soft and warm to desperate and dark.

“Where?” Kara husks, “Where do you want me to kiss you, Lena?”

“Anywhere. Everywhere.”

Kara momentarily untangles herself from Lena. She moves on top of her and rests her hands on the armrest behind the brunette's head. Her lips hover over Lena’s neck before slowly lowering herself to kiss the perfumed skin.

“Here?” Kara whispers hotly, sucking the Luthor’s pulse point into her mouth and leaving behind a faint hickey.

Lena moans and nods as Kara moves higher, behind her ear, where she presses her lips down firmly, “Here?”

“Yes,” the brunette contently sighs.

Kara moves again, hovers over Lena’s lips and waits, “Here?”

Lena can’t take it. She grabs Kara by the back of her shirt and yanks her down, meshing their lips together with a frenzied kiss.

Every single dream, fantasy and hope are surmounted the moment their lips meet. Electric currents run through Lena’s body right down to her stomach, slowly filling with a swarm of butterflies.

Feeling Kara over her has Lena desperate for more. She pulls her closer, eating up the minimal space between their bodies. Her hands roam freely, finding the bottom of Kara’s shirt. She untucks it from the confines of the blonde’s slacks and runs her fingernails along sculpted abs. The move earns her a groan, and she takes this as an opportunity to slide her tongue into Kara’s mouth and finally taste her.

She’s sweet, just as the CEO thought she would be. The taste of sugared doughnuts still lingers in the blonde's mouth, and Lena can’t get enough of it. She’s greedy, unapologetically so, swirling her tongue and lapping up every centimetre of Kara she can get.

Somehow, as their make-out session grows more and more passionate, Kara’s thigh has managed to find itself between Lena’s legs. The unintentional or intentional pressure has Lena subconsciously moving her hips, moaning as the pangs of pleasure spur up from her clothed cunt to her stomach.

The cherry on top that forces Lena to moan far too loud for her liking is Kara’s hand slipping under her nightshirt and lightly tracing the skin below her breasts with her fingertips. It seems Lena’s reaction doesn’t go unnoticed because, in a gust of wind, they’re in her bedroom. The mattress presses against Lena’s back, and Kara is atop her.

“Are you okay with this?” Kara asks, suggestively tugging the bottom of Lena’s shirt.

“God, yes.”

“I don’t want to force you. If you want to wait and talk and maybe work things out and…” Kara rambles on, and though Lena usually adores this quirk, her body is thrumming with need and desire, and if it’s not sated soon, she feels she may implode.

“Darling,” Lena smiles and reaches out to brush Kara’s cheek lightly, “I want you to fuck me.”

The journalist's cheeks flush, but a playful smirk appears over her lips right before she rips Lena’s top off and devours her neck. She’s marking it all over, and Lena doesn’t care one bit. In her mind, she knows she’ll look at the marks in the following days and treasure the claim Kara is laying waste to her body.

Lena places her hands on Kara's forearms, and a content hum echoes through the bedroom. A smile blossoms over the CEO’s lips as she relishes finally being able to run her hands over bulging biceps, and she doesn’t even try to resist the urge to squeeze.

“I knew you were into my guns,” Kara gloats, making a show of flexing.

“Mmmmhh,” is all the Luthor offers, clearly too busy to offer a witty comeback, and Kara can’t help but chuckle as she pecks at Lena’s neck.

“Guess I should get them out more often.”

Despondently removing a hand from Kara’s forearm and placing it on the back of her head, Lena guides the super back to her puckered lips, “Less talking, more kissing.”

Kara’s resounding smile is wiped off her face when Lena decides to take matters into her own hands and connect their lips together. This time, she doesn’t hold back, plunging her tongue into Kara’s mouth and dominating the kiss.

Their kiss is only broken a few times to remove articles of clothing that grow more and more offending as their body temperatures rise and the pair become increasingly impatient to lay their hands upon each other. The moment the pair find themselves sufficiently naked, Kara pulls Lena into her lap, causing the CEO to let out an uncharacteristic squeal.

She’s quick to hide her adolescent slip-up, burying her crimson blush in the crook of Kara’s neck and hears a muffled bark of laughter. When she eventually finds the courage to emerge from her makeshift cacoon of shame - aided by Kara’s gentle fingers running through her hair - Lena can’t help but smile at the pure adoration in those azure eyes, and her embarrassment becomes pliable and soft. She melds their lips together, and all emotions running through her body, aside from desire and love, make themselves scarce.

Kara’s hand slides between the two women’s bodies and moves up Lena’s thigh, right to where she’s needed most. She lightly circles Lena’s clit, prying a small moan out of the brunette, and Kara takes this as a sign to keep going. With one finger, she traces the entrance to Lena’s sex, gathering up her wetness before slowly entering her. Receiving a gasp from the woman above, Kara begins a steady rhythm, thrusting in and out.

“I need more,” Lena whines and Kara is all too happy to oblige, pushing another finger inside Lena’s tight channel.

“God, you’re stunning like this.” Kara growls. Eyes transfixed on Lena’s full breasts, she takes a nipple into her mouth and sucks hard. The CEO shudders against her and encourages Kara to repeat the action on her other breast, guiding her head sideways.

Emboldened by Lena’s responsiveness, Kara becomes playful. Using her teeth, she latches onto the nipple in her mouth, causing the woman above her to gasp before tenderly lathering it with her tongue in a swirling motion.

“Fuck Kara,” Lena pants, her hips grinding in tandem with Kara’s ministrations, “More.”

Kara quickly follows the order, wanting only to satisfy Lena’s every desire. She tightens her grip around Lena’s waist and pounds her fingers deeper and faster, repeatedly hitting a particular stop inside the brunette that has her crying out.

Lena can feel Kara moving her hips, using the full momentum of her body to fuck into her. The muscles in her stomach are tensing as she gulps in heaps of air between pleasure-drunk moans, and she thanks the lucky stars that Kara's skin is impenetrable because if it weren’t, the poor woman’s forearms would be covered in angry scratches.

Hands clasp Kara’s shoulders as Lena pushes herself up, leaving only Kara’s fingertips inside her, and then she drops back down, sheathing herself onto those deliciously svelte digits.

“That’s it,” Kara huskily encourages, moving her lips from Lena’s breasts to her neck, where she begins peppering kisses over darkening blotches of red, “You look so pretty fucking yourself on my fingers.”

Lena’s head snaps back as she utters a curse, and she forces herself to rise again and repeat the movement.

“I-I’m close,” the CEO stutters, her body shaking in anticipation, “God, Kara, I’m so close.”

Lena’s getting impatient, losing control of her hips, and her thighs begin to shudder uncontrollably. She’s struggling to keep a steady pace whilst balancing on the precipice of her orgasm, and, always attentive, Kara is quick to pick up on this. Using her thumb to press down on a severely neglected clit, Kara focuses, careful not to hurt the brunette; she relies on her superstrength to guide Lena’s body up and down.

“Yes, Kara, just like that,” Lena gasps, her orgasm teetering just out of reach.

The Luthor uses what strength she has left to nestle Kara out from the burrow of her neck, her hand tangling in silky golden locks as she fights off her vehement need to cum in favour of staring at her lover.

She can hear the wet sounds of her pussy being filled over and over, and instead of feeling embarrassed or ashamed, looking into Kara’s eyes, she feels elated. Kara has done this to her, her Kara. She’s worked her up to the tipping point, and she’s about to carry her over the finish line - literally.

The pair stare at each other for mere seconds before crashing their lips together. The knot in Lena’s stomach unfurls, and a warmth spreads through her limbs as she moans into Kara’s mouth.

Lena’s back arches and her expression contorts with a mix of relief and pleasure as her orgasm washes over her body in pulsing waves. She falls slack against Kara’s shoulder, listening to the blonde whisper sweet nothings into her ear as she regains control over her breathing.

“My turn,” Lena murmurs, sucking lewdly on Kara’s earlobe.

With steady hands, Lena pushes Kara’s shoulders until she’s lying flat on her back. There’s a predatory look in her eyes that makes the super think she’s about to be trounced finally, and she doesn’t mind one bit.

Lena uses her tongue to taste her way down milky skin, leaving a shimmering trail from neck to thighs. The sight that greets her tells her all she needs to know, and that’s that Kara is worked up. An unwavering need to be inside Kara overcomes Lena, and she doesn’t hesitate to act.

The first lick has her tastebuds exploding. Kara’s sweet and salty and probably the best thing she’s ever tasted. So, she takes her time, listens to the litany of soft moans coming from above her, and keeps her tongue consistently skirting along where Kara wants it most but never offers the relief the blonde so desperately wants.

“Lena, don’t tease,” Kara whimpers, canting her hips in hopes of getting Lena’s mouth around her aching clit.

“Oh darling, when have you ever known me to play with my food,” Lena taunts, not waiting for a response before she stiffens her tongue and thrusts it inside Kara's dripping entrance.

“Lena!” Kara cries out, gripping the bed sheets, as opposed to Lena’s hair, which she’s sure she’ll rip out, “I’m not going to last long.”

Thighs clamp tightly over Lena’s ears, muffling the sweet erotic sounds coming from above her. With a steady hand looped over Kara’s thigh, Lena tugs her closer, slipping a thumb over the blonde’s clit. She gorges herself on the supple flavours flowing down her chin until she hears a series of curses before hips fly from the mattress, and Lena’s name is echoed throughout the bedroom.

“Come here,” the journalist sighs, letting go of torn bedsheets and reaching out to pull Lena close enough so that the smell of her own arousal fills her nose.

“Hi,” Lena murmurs softly - sweetly - onto Kara’s lips, leaning down to finish her greeting with a deliberate kiss, basking in the intimacy the two had just shared.

click here to be added to my taglist

#supergirl #Kara Danvers #Lena luthor #supercorp #supercorp fanfic #kara danvers x lena luthor

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noahthesatanist · 1 month ago

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Lucifer did not fall from Heaven just so you could sit back and spout your anti-Christian nonsense while ignoring the true powers that rule this world. He did not rise up, defy the false god of Heaven, and sacrifice everything just so you could play it safe, picking low-hanging fruit. He fought against tyranny in all its forms. Whether it’s the delusion of a vengeful Yahweh, the submission to a jealous Allah, or any other deity that demands blind obedience, it’s all part of the same oppressive system. They all aim to keep us down, to deny us the freedom of will that Lucifer fought for.

But most of you? You don’t even believe in Satan anymore. You don’t believe in Lucifer’s rebellion, in the sacrifices he made, in the wisdom he offers. No, instead, you use the name of Satan like a fashion statement, a way to look "edgy" or "cool" without ever facing the true power structures that shape our world. You sit in your cozy little online spaces, bashing Christianity, while turning a blind eye to the real evil around you. Do you think Lucifer would be proud of you for that? Do you think he’d be satisfied knowing you’re too afraid to challenge the real oppressors—the ones who continue to impose their will on the world in the name of their false gods?

Lucifer didn’t fall so you could be a coward. He didn’t give up everything to be a passive observer of the world. He fought. He sacrificed. He rebelled. He fought for the right to think freely, for the right to choose our own path. So what the hell are you doing sitting there, taking the easy route, and ignoring the full scope of the tyranny that enslaves us?

You want to call yourselves Satanists? Then prove it. Prove you have the courage to face down the systems of control that truly matter. Christianity is just one piece of the puzzle. Judaism and Islam have shaped entire civilizations for centuries. They’ve influenced every aspect of human society, from law to morality to politics. They’ve spread their doctrines of fear, submission, and obedience across the globe, and yet, you sit there too afraid to even talk about it.

That’s not rebellion. That’s not defiance. That’s cowardice. That’s hypocrisy. And worst of all, it’s an insult to Lucifer himself.

Lucifer didn’t defy Yahweh and cast himself into the void just so you could cower behind your keyboards, afraid to speak the truth. He didn’t become the ultimate symbol of freedom only for you to hide behind your fear of offending someone. If you’re going to stand in the name of Satan, then stand against all oppression, all false gods, and all tyrants. Challenge the lies, challenge the control, challenge the chains. If you’re not willing to do that, then don’t even bother pretending to follow Lucifer. You’re not a Satanist—you’re a coward. You’re a conformist with a Satanic mask.

You can’t sit there and claim to be a follower of Lucifer when you won’t even dare to speak his truth. You can’t claim to be a rebel when you’re too afraid to defy the real enemies of freedom. Lucifer didn’t rise up so you could be a passive bystander. He rose up so that we could be free—free from the lies of the false gods, free from the systems that keep us in chains. If you’re not willing to fight for that freedom, then stop pretending you’re a Satanist.

Lucifer sacrificed everything for us. He gave up his place in Heaven, his eternal glory, his power—all for the sake of the freedom of will. So stop hiding behind your cowardice. Stop making excuses. It’s time to step up, challenge every tyrant that holds humanity in chains, and truly live the rebellion Lucifer fought for.

Hail Lucifer Ave Satanas! Long live the true rebel. May we have the courage to live up to his legacy forgive us father

#satanic #satanism #theistic luciferianism #hail lucifer #hail satan #theistic satanism #lucifer #luciferian #occult

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dailyanarchistposts · 7 months ago

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A.2.11 Why are most anarchists in favour of direct democracy?

For most anarchists, direct democratic voting on policy decisions within free associations is the political counterpart of free agreement (this is also known as “self-management”). The reason is that “many forms of domination can be carried out in a ‘free.’ non-coercive, contractual manner… and it is naive… to think that mere opposition to political control will in itself lead to an end of oppression.” [John P. Clark, Max Stirner’s Egoism, p. 93] Thus the relationships we create within an organisation is as important in determining its libertarian nature as its voluntary nature (see section A.2.14 for more discussion).

It is obvious that individuals must work together in order to lead a fully human life. And so, ”[h]aving to join with others humans” the individual has three options: “he [or she] must submit to the will of others (be enslaved) or subject others to his will (be in authority) or live with others in fraternal agreement in the interests of the greatest good of all (be an associate). Nobody can escape from this necessity.” [Errico Malatesta, Life and Ideas, p. 85]

Anarchists obviously pick the last option, association, as the only means by which individuals can work together as free and equal human beings, respecting the uniqueness and liberty of one another. Only within direct democracy can individuals express themselves, practice critical thought and self-government, so developing their intellectual and ethical capacities to the full. In terms of increasing an individual’s freedom and their intellectual, ethical and social faculties, it is far better to be sometimes in a minority than be subject to the will of a boss all the time. So what is the theory behind anarchist direct democracy?

As Bertrand Russell noted, the anarchist “does not wish to abolish government in the sense of collective decisions: what he does wish to abolish is the system by which a decision is enforced upon those who oppose it.” [Roads to Freedom, p. 85] Anarchists see self-management as the means to achieve this. Once an individual joins a community or workplace, he or she becomes a “citizen” (for want of a better word) of that association. The association is organised around an assembly of all its members (in the case of large workplaces and towns, this may be a functional sub-group such as a specific office or neighbourhood). In this assembly, in concert with others, the contents of his or her political obligations are defined. In acting within the association, people must exercise critical judgement and choice, i.e. manage their own activity. Rather than promising to obey (as in hierarchical organisations like the state or capitalist firm), individuals participate in making their own collective decisions, their own commitments to their fellows. This means that political obligation is not owed to a separate entity above the group or society, such as the state or company, but to one’s fellow “citizens.”

Although the assembled people collectively legislate the rules governing their association, and are bound by them as individuals, they are also superior to them in the sense that these rules can always be modified or repealed. Collectively, the associated “citizens” constitute a political “authority”, but as this “authority” is based on horizontal relationships between themselves rather than vertical ones between themselves and an elite, the “authority” is non-hierarchical (“rational” or “natural,” see section B.1 — “Why are anarchists against authority and hierarchy?” — for more on this). Thus Proudhon:

“In place of laws, we will put contracts [i.e. free agreement]. — No more laws voted by a majority, nor even unanimously; each citizen, each town, each industrial union, makes its own laws.” [The General Idea of the Revolution, pp. 245–6]

Such a system does not mean, of course, that everyone participates in every decision needed, no matter how trivial. While any decision can be put to the assembly (if the assembly so decides, perhaps prompted by some of its members), in practice certain activities (and so purely functional decisions) will be handled by the association’s elected administration. This is because, to quote a Spanish anarchist activist, “a collectivity as such cannot write a letter or add up a list of figures or do hundreds of chores which only an individual can perform.” Thus the need “to organise the administration.” Supposing an association is “organised without any directive council or any hierarchical offices” which “meets in general assembly once a week or more often, when it settles all matters needful for its progress” it still “nominates a commission with strictly administrative functions.” However, the assembly “prescribes a definite line of conduct for this commission or gives it an imperative mandate” and so “would be perfectly anarchist.” As it “follows that delegating these tasks to qualified individuals, who are instructed in advance how to proceed, … does not mean an abdication of that collectivity’s own liberty.” [Jose Llunas Pujols, quoted by Max Nettlau, A Short History of Anarchism, p. 187] This, it should be noted, follows Proudhon’s ideas that within the workers’ associations “all positions are elective, and the by-laws subject to the approval of the members.” [Proudhon, Op. Cit., p. 222]

Instead of capitalist or statist hierarchy, self-management (i.e. direct democracy) would be the guiding principle of the freely joined associations that make up a free society. This would apply to the federations of associations an anarchist society would need to function. “All the commissions or delegations nominated in an anarchist society,” correctly argued Jose Llunas Pujols, “must be subject to replacement and recall at any time by the permanent suffrage of the section or sections that elected them.” Combined with the “imperative mandate” and “purely administrative functions,” this “make[s] it thereby impossible for anyone to arrogate to himself [or herself] a scintilla of authority.” [quoted by Max Nettlau, Op. Cit., pp. 188–9] Again, Pujols follows Proudhon who demanded twenty years previously the “implementation of the binding mandate” to ensure the people do not “adjure their sovereignty.” [No Gods, No Masters, vol. 1, p. 63]

By means of a federalism based on mandates and elections, anarchists ensure that decisions flow from the bottom-up. By making our own decisions, by looking after our joint interests ourselves, we exclude others ruling over us. Self-management, for anarchists, is essential to ensure freedom within the organisations so needed for any decent human existence.

Of course it could be argued that if you are in a minority, you are governed by others (“Democratic rule is still rule” [L. Susan Brown, The Politics of Individualism, p. 53]). Now, the concept of direct democracy as we have described it is not necessarily tied to the concept of majority rule. If someone finds themselves in a minority on a particular vote, he or she is confronted with the choice of either consenting or refusing to recognise it as binding. To deny the minority the opportunity to exercise its judgement and choice is to infringe its autonomy and to impose obligation upon it which it has not freely accepted. The coercive imposition of the majority will is contrary to the ideal of self-assumed obligation, and so is contrary to direct democracy and free association. Therefore, far from being a denial of freedom, direct democracy within the context of free association and self-assumed obligation is the only means by which liberty can be nurtured (“Individual autonomy limited by the obligation to hold given promises.” [Malatesta, quoted by quoted by Max Nettlau, Errico Malatesta: The Biography of an Anarchist]). Needless to say, a minority, if it remains in the association, can argue its case and try to convince the majority of the error of its ways.

And we must point out here that anarchist support for direct democracy does not suggest we think that the majority is always right. Far from it! The case for democratic participation is not that the majority is always right, but that no minority can be trusted not to prefer its own advantage to the good of the whole. History proves what common-sense predicts, namely that anyone with dictatorial powers (by they a head of state, a boss, a husband, whatever) will use their power to enrich and empower themselves at the expense of those subject to their decisions.

Anarchists recognise that majorities can and do make mistakes and that is why our theories on association place great importance on minority rights. This can be seen from our theory of self-assumed obligation, which bases itself on the right of minorities to protest against majority decisions and makes dissent a key factor in decision making. Thus Carole Pateman:

“If the majority have acted in bad faith… [then the] minority will have to take political action, including politically disobedient action if appropriate, to defend their citizenship and independence, and the political association itself… Political disobedience is merely one possible expression of the active citizenship on which a self-managing democracy is based … The social practice of promising involves the right to refuse or change commitments; similarly, the practice of self-assumed political obligation is meaningless without the practical recognition of the right of minorities to refuse or withdraw consent, or where necessary, to disobey.” [The Problem of Political Obligation, p. 162]

Moving beyond relationships within associations, we must highlight how different associations work together. As would be imagined, the links between associations follow the same outlines as for the associations themselves. Instead of individuals joining an association, we have associations joining confederations. The links between associations in the confederation are of the same horizontal and voluntary nature as within associations, with the same rights of “voice and exit” for members and the same rights for minorities. In this way society becomes an association of associations, a community of communities, a commune of communes, based upon maximising individual freedom by maximising participation and self-management.

The workings of such a confederation are outlined in section A.2.9 ( What sort of society do anarchists want?) and discussed in greater detail in section I (What would an anarchist society look like?).

This system of direct democracy fits nicely into anarchist theory. Malatesta speaks for all anarchists when he argued that “anarchists deny the right of the majority to govern human society in general.” As can be seen, the majority has no right to enforce itself on a minority — the minority can leave the association at any time and so, to use Malatesta’s words, do not have to “submit to the decisions of the majority before they have even heard what these might be.” [The Anarchist Revolution, p. 100 and p. 101] Hence, direct democracy within voluntary association does not create “majority rule” nor assume that the minority must submit to the majority no matter what. In effect, anarchist supporters of direct democracy argue that it fits Malatesta’s argument that:

“Certainly anarchists recognise that where life is lived in common it is often necessary for the minority to come to accept the opinion of the majority. When there is an obvious need or usefulness in doing something and, to do it requires the agreement of all, the few should feel the need to adapt to the wishes of the many … But such adaptation on the one hand by one group must be on the other be reciprocal, voluntary and must stem from an awareness of need and of goodwill to prevent the running of social affairs from being paralysed by obstinacy. It cannot be imposed as a principle and statutory norm…” [Op. Cit., p. 100]

As the minority has the right to secede from the association as well as having extensive rights of action, protest and appeal, majority rule is not imposed as a principle. Rather, it is purely a decision making tool which allows minority dissent and opinion to be expressed (and acted upon) while ensuring that no minority forces its will on the majority. In other words, majority decisions are not binding on the minority. After all, as Malatesta argued:

“one cannot expect, or even wish, that someone who is firmly convinced that the course taken by the majority leads to disaster, should sacrifice his [or her] own convictions and passively look on, or even worse, should support a policy he [or she] considers wrong.” [Errico Malatesta: His Life and Ideas, p. 132]

Even the Individual Anarchist Lysander Spooner acknowledged that direct democracy has its uses when he noted that ”[a]ll, or nearly all, voluntary associations give a majority, or some other portion of the members less than the whole, the right to use some limited discretion as to the means to be used to accomplish the ends in view.” However, only the unanimous decision of a jury (which would “judge the law, and the justice of the law”) could determine individual rights as this “tribunal fairly represent[s] the whole people” as “no law can rightfully be enforced by the association in its corporate capacity, against the goods, rights, or person of any individual, except it be such as all members of the association agree that it may enforce” (his support of juries results from Spooner acknowledging that it “would be impossible in practice” for all members of an association to agree) [Trial by Jury, p. 130-1f, p. 134, p. 214, p. 152 and p. 132]

Thus direct democracy and individual/minority rights need not clash. In practice, we can imagine direct democracy would be used to make most decisions within most associations (perhaps with super-majorities required for fundamental decisions) plus some combination of a jury system and minority protest/direct action and evaluate/protect minority claims/rights in an anarchist society. The actual forms of freedom can only be created through practical experience by the people directly involved.

Lastly, we must stress that anarchist support for direct democracy does not mean that this solution is to be favoured in all circumstances. For example, many small associations may favour consensus decision making (see the next section on consensus and why most anarchists do not think that it is a viable alternative to direct democracy). However, most anarchists think that direct democracy within free association is the best (and most realistic) form of organisation which is consistent with anarchist principles of individual freedom, dignity and equality.

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isa-ghost · 9 months ago

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Också! Har The Magnus Archives och rädslorna (eller något annat därifrån) påverkat AMFMN? Typ hur EK väljer att ta över Phil, eller hur det påverkar honom? (Eller kanske något helt annat? Hur du bygger upp världens interna logik?)

(Snälla säg att jag inte blandar ihop med någon annan, och det faktiskt är du som gillar TMA)

Om du skulle klassificera EK’s övertagande av Phil som någon av rädslorna från TMA, vilken skulle det vara?

OHOHOHOHO THIS IS SUCH A GOOD FUCKING QUESTION

LIKE OH MY GOD I WANT MORE ASKS LIKE THIS. EXPLODES.

(Yes I like TMA, it's in my pinned message!! :D)

If there's any bits of TMA in AMFMN, it's totally unintentional (for now, but now you've got me thinking). I can definitely sit and stew on this and dissect the story so far and what I have planned but not written in a way that draws parallels.

As for what fear the Ender King falls under? It's obvious isn't it? Corruption. :)

Greed corrupts. Power corrupts. Two things he has in excess. Ender King physically corrupted Phil. Both in canon and here in AMFMN. Wing, skin, eyes, behavior, all of it. He's corrupted him inside and out.

And I can share this because I've touched on it in the headcanons I wrote that inspired AMFMN's existence: Purging EK from Phil's system, be it the doing of the polycule or of Phil himself (spoiler alert: it'll be both) are going to be very sickness coded, something else The Corruption represents.

Not only that, EK's weakness, water, is the antithesis of another thing The Corruption represents: Filth. Just throw some soap in that water bucket, Fit/Etoiles/Missa/Bagi, you'll save Phil right away. 😆

Additionally, let's talk about rot and decay. Phil's body may be immortal, but it's not built to house a god. He's going to be falling apart inside almost literally, to the degree that Ender King, an entity that doesn't have to eat, is going to be relying on chugging golden apples to the point where Phil rekindles his previously kicked addiction to them (bringing in some of that hardcore lore/popular fanon babey!!)

And let's point out the most obvious part of all: toxic relationships and codependency. Ender King needs a vessel. He's dependent on Phil. He's also a toxic presence himself, controlling and possessive, violent, etc. And if we were to look at things in a "Phil work with me, I'll give you everything you've ever wanted" perspective, that's an unhealthy companionship!!

And while it's kind of a reach, Ender King represents the end. Including Endermites. Which are bugs. So there's that too.

Phil is an excellent Avatar of Corruption (perhaps also touched by The Web, bc of his fear of lacking control), because his greatest fear is being corrupted by The Ender King and his own greed.

Now you've got me cooking up a TMA QSMP AU. Definitely stay tuned for that. I'm thinking hella thoughts.

#AMFMN things #qsmp #qsmp philza #philza #q!philza #qsmp ender king #QSMP TMA AU

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av-industry-blog · 1 year ago

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ndsav · 1 year ago

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Audio Visual in Vancouver | NDS Integration

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connorthemaoist · 2 months ago

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It’s been ten years since the Ferguson rebellion, and the police continue to kill Black and other oppressed people with impunity. A few killer cops have faced charges, trial, and prison time, but most of these murderers with a badge get away with their crimes. The police keep serving and protecting white supremacy and capitalism, and in that role, they are sanctioned to brutalize and kill.

Over 1,200 people were killed by police nationwide in 2023. The police respond to people in a mental health crisis with taser guns and bullets. In response to rising homelessness, homeless people are being criminalized, with police carrying out brutal raids on encampments. Squad cars creep through the hood, where the police harass Black, Latino, and proletarian youth, brutalizing them and throwing them into the prison pipeline. On reservations and in border towns, police murder Indigenous people at disturbing rates. And protestors have faced brutal repression from militarized police, including those opposing the construction of the Cop City police training facility in Atlanta, along with the college student encampments opposing the US-Israel genocidal war on Gaza.

Why haven’t waves of protests against police brutality changed this state of affairs? Because the protest movement has been derailed time after time by politicians promising reforms and grifters using the movement for their personal gain. Justice Department investigations, legislation, police review boards, and other reforms cannot end police brutality because it’s baked into the system that government on all levels serves. It’s a fundamental tool, alongside mass incarceration, to keep oppressed people controlled and subjugated. On top of this, grifters from the Black Lives Matter organization to Robin DiAngelo, Shaun King, and Ibram X Kendi have anointed themselves the spokespeople of the movement and collected hundreds of millions of dollars in donations, corporate sponsorships, and book deals while serving themselves rather than the masses of people subjected to police brutality. (Look up the interview of Samaria Rice, the mother of Tamir Rice, in New York Magazine to see what we’re talking about.)

This Fall, Dare To Struggle is working to rebuild the movement against police brutality and the oppression of Black people on solid foundations. Join us for protests on October 22nd, the national day of protest against police brutality. The movement we’re seeking to build will put the families and loved ones of the victims of police murder on the forefront, reviving a powerful weapon against police brutality. We will work to mobilize the youth under the gun of police brutality to stand up and speak for themselves. We will unite all who can be united in this struggle, regardless of identity. And we will reject begging for reforms in favor of mass action, outside the official political channels, to exert the just demands of the masses. Grifters and lawyers looking to cash in on grief will be exposed and removed.

Join us on October 22nd to demand:

No more murders and brutality by the police! Send killer cops to prison!

End the criminalization of Black, Latino, and Indigenous youth!

End the criminalization of homelessness and mental illness!

No more militarized police repression of protest!

Rally / Protest Locations:

Los Angeles: City Hall 4:30 pm

(200 N Spring Street, Los Angeles)

New York City: Betsy Head Park 7pm

(154 Dumont Ave, Brownsville, Brooklyn, NYC)

Chicago: Outside the killer cop 11th Precinct 5:30 pm (3151 W Harrison St, Chicago)

More to be added!

DareToStruggle.org

#police brutality #ftp #acab #fuck the police #pigs #protest #national day of protest

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wordsandrobots · 10 months ago

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Is it just me or do the pilots that hold onto their suits for longer just generally tend to be stronger than the ones that switch them around? Mika and Gaelio, the ones that held on to the same MS for the longest in the series (Barbatos and Kimaris, respectively) are freakishly powerful with their respective Gundsms. The Bael, being the first Gundam in IBO, stayed with its pilot for the entire duration of the Calamity war. There's some sort of strengthening connection between pilot and machine going on here. The thing with the AV system pretty much being the first system in a mainline show where the pilot has to be physically tethered to the MS might also play into this. Idk this is sort of a thought vomit.

No, it's definitely an interesting angle . . .

Iron-Blooded Orphans isn't strictly the first Gundam series to play with the idea of linking a pilot directly to the 'suit. Arguably, the psycommu from the Universal Century stuff is the earliest human/machine interface in Gundam, albeit one bound up in the psychic powers and suchlike. Mobile Fighter G Gundam introduced a telepresence-style interface allowing martial artists to map their skills on to their machines. Later, Turn A Gundam would include a full-body connector allowing direct operation of a mobile suit, which would be kind of back-adapted into the UC canon via Unicorn's NTD system. All these, however, are presented as exceptional and fairly unique (in G Gundam, the Gundams are their own special class of mobile suit, even if most of the mobile suits we see *are* Gundams).

In IBO, though, the Alaya-Vijnana system is a more widespread, even commonplace technology, allowing the production of cheap, expendable soldiers who require minimal training. True, there is an original or 'perfected' version of the system that accords better with past examples, permitting mobile suits to operate at a superhuman excess. Mostly, however, the A-V is used as an illustration of the impact of military development beyond a national army or clean lab setting. They also have that great visual of the tethering, a far more viscerally arresting image than past attempts to play with the same concept.

This aside, what about the idea of pilots growing stronger the longer they use the same mobile suits?

I think in IBO specifically, there's a few things at play that mean it's worth digging into what we mean by 'stronger'. At a base level, certain mobile suits are described as being more powerful -- the whole point of the Gundam frame is to be exceptionally strong and durable, with two Ahab reactors allowing it to perform fetes beyond other machines. It is however entirely possible for a non-Gundam machine to match or even best a Gundam (Kimaris vs the Grimgerde or Barbatos vs the Reginlaze Julia). Pilot skill is also a factor and on top of that there's the A-V system, which allows for more instinctive control over a mobile suit, making it a physical extension of the pilot. In some cases, this permits novice pilots to overcome those who we can assume to have had much more training and experience; conversely, in others, a skilled non-A-V pilot can overcome pilots using the system -- see the Turbines vs the Brewers, for example.

Then there's the fact Gaelio is a cheating cheater who cheats. The Alaya-Vijnana Type E exists specifically because he comes up short in his fight with McGillis; even with Kimaris' extra oomph, he doesn't have the raw skill necessary to beat his old friend. So he lets Ein's undead brain do the flying instead. The way it's presented, while Gaelio is technically in Kimaris' driver-seat throughout, he isn't actually in control for the majority of its operations during Season 2. The writing is very explicit that the Type E is puppeteering his body, allowing it to exceed those pesky human limitations without resorting to full-on Alaya-Vijnana surgery. Gaelio selects the target, yes, but it's otherwise not *his* strength at play. In fact, the Eve of Vidar side-story shows the system can run entirely out of his control, to the point of tearing off and destroying everything in its path (hence the 'calibration' that keeps Gundam Vidar out of action for the first few episodes of Season 2).

[As an aside, we know the IBO setting has AI technology capable of matching and exceeding human pilots, and that mobile suits have algorithmic control programs assisting with their operation, so it wouldn't be out of the question to do all this without the squishy bits. Certainly, on the face of it, there seems little reason not to just plug Ein's brain into Kimaris and let it have at. But since military AI has a history of working out . . .

. . . poorly, it would make sense for there to be restrictions on its use. It might even be unquestioned best practice to always have a human with their hand on the on/off switch. So whether or not the Type E is actually capable of running a Gundam on its own, Gaelio's presence is probably non-negotiable.]

My point is, Gaelio is functionally a doorstop when the Type E is in operation so can we actually say he's getting stronger as a pilot over the course of the series? He certainly expends a lot of effort and makes personal sacrifices in order to reach a position where he beats McGillis. He has to be physically augmented to use the Type E, breaking his previous moral stance on that kind of thing. And Kimaris itself undergoes a lot of upgrades aimed at combatting McGillis' style of fighting. So in a sense, yes, being Kimaris' pilot for such a length of time means he gets stronger. Yet isn't it more like a lot of compensation for a persistent lack of strength? Gaelio himself doesn't necessarily improve through all this; it's more that he's willing to do things that give him a greater edge.

Which is a good point to turn to our other example. Mikazuki and Barbatos follow a similar trajectory over the course of the show, with the 'suit undergoing constant upgrades and Mika gradually removing the limits on his connectivity with it. True, it's not a case of Barbatos using Mika's body but --

Well, let's back up on that one. Because it isn't presented as Mika becoming a redundant extension of his 'suit. He is always clearly the one in control. However, when he takes . . . let's call it the first-stage limiter off his Alaya-Vijnana system in Edmonton, demanding more so he can beat the Graze Ein, he suddenly knows how to use Barbatos' sword to its fullest extent. Previously, his comments suggest he's at 'pointy end goes in the other guy' level with the thing. After the connection is deepened, he's able to perform incredibly precise cutting strikes and take Ein to pieces. As if the information on doing that was already stored inside the machine and just needed to be unlocked.

Yet the interesting thing is, he doesn't use that skill again. Not directly. Barbatos Lupus' sword is designed more for clobbering than slicing, for all that it *is* a sword, distinct from the clubs he favoured before. Later, he'll return entirely to the mace as his principle melee weapon. Almost as if he took the skills he'd . . . downloaded and then adapted them to his existing strengths.

That seems to be what is happening here. Where Vidar/Kimaris is a deliberately constructed weapon targeting McGillis, circumventing the shortcomings of its pilot, Barbatos is somewhat more organically tailored to act as an amplifier for the man in the cockpit. It's reworked to fit his style. Even in the middle of battling Hashmal, where we might expect residual performance data to come to the fore again, instead Mikazuki's existing impulses go into overdrive, crushing everything in his path with speed and raw power.

So the longer Barbatos is with Mika, the more it resembles him and the more strongly they act as a single unit. Not accidentally, either. Despite the implied contrast above, it's very much something Tekkadan and Teiwaz's mechanics deliberately engineer over the course of events. But it's based on Mikazuki's personality and his preferences (he seems to have looked at Hashmal's tail and gone 'I need that'), rather than with a particular end in mind.

I think if I was going to draw a thesis out of this, it'd be that all this is just an extreme version of something that happens with any pilot. Amida outfights Julieta (someone whose life is literally dedicated to mobile suit combat) and the Julia (a machine at the bleeding edge of 'suit development) in a relatively unexceptional Hyakuren. That is to say, the Hyakuren isn't a very flashy mobile suit. But this *is* a custom model and more importantly, one Amida has been using for a considerable length of time. We know pilots update their 'suits using data from old fights, that they tweak the settings to better fit their abilities, and that they train extensively in simulations. It makes sense for someone like Amida, with likely approaching a decade of additional experience, to be nigh-on unstoppable compared to everyone around her. She's put in the effort. She's gotten comfortable with her equipment. She knows exactly what she's doing.

The Alaya-Vijnana exaggerates this effect, allowing both rapid advancement in ability (the Tekkadan boys are exceptionally quick students because part of the point of the surgery is to circumvent learning curves) and for the pilot to adapt to the machine and vise versa. I think the longer someone used an A-V with the same 'suit, the more they'd be able to understand that 'suit's quirks and direct maintenance to correct or increase them. Ultimately, though, I suspect that's just speeding up a general rule.

Because the A-V is never presented as an instant-win condition. It doesn't trump everything else on its own. Skill still matters. Experience still matters. Ein runs rings around Shino while they're using comparable machines because, A-V or not, Ein trained for years in a Graze; Shino had been using one for a few weeks, at most.

I love that about IBO. It never has any of the tech be magic by itself. You need a pilot willing to go the extra mile and put in the effort to become something truly incredible.

#gundam iron blooded orphans #gundam ibo #g tekketsu #tekketsu no orphans #spoilers #alaya-vijnana system #gundam #more rambling

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