#I think there's others better versed than I who could explain it but like the way that 生命とは喪われるもの brushes aside humanity so efficiently

[reinemichele]

⚠ Flashing lights warning and also volume warning . like 5 seconds in there's a scream <3

I'll put a read more for my rambling and also add... my preferred translations, since I didn't want to go with the 480p Moira concert, but ever since I first saw this post

(Bad screenshot; I was focusing on getting both of them visible but the text says "there's nothing left of us")

I've been trying to figure out what it reminded me of, and it finally occurred to me that it's the Greek duet between Thanatos and Elef in Doreitachi no Eiyuu 😭

(Translations are here & here)

Have you gotten used to the unbearable pain of loss? There's nothing left for me (you)... [Τιποτα δεν παραμενει σε με, σε μενα εμενα...] No hope at all for me (you)... [Ελπίδα δεν παραμένει σε, σε μένα εμένα...] Life is something to be lost... The Sword of Hades Elefseus, the Harbinger of Death [Ἅιδης ξίφος Ελευσευς, ὁτῶν φόβος σε θάνατος] The Lone Wolf Elefseus, Bringing Hellenes to Thanatos [Μονος λυκος Ελευσευς, φορτεἝλληνες για θάνατος] [...] “How long will we repeat this?" “O, Moira!” Even though humans are all but pitiful slaves of fate, For a slave like that to own another slave Is truly dry humor at its finest! Don't give up, keep struggling! You don't like being powerless slaves, do you? If you have the courage to take up the sword, then come with me! The Sword of Hades Elefseus, the Harbinger of Death [Ἅιδης ξίφος Ελευσευς, ὁτῶν φόβος σε θάνατος] The Lone Wolf Elefseus, Bringing Hellenes to Thanatos [Μονος λυκος Ελευσευς, φορτεἝλληνες για θάνατος]

[daydreaming-nerd]

for the bat boys (or bat boys x feyre), I really wanna see rhys just tied down, desperate, and overwhelmed with pleasure. like everybody just decides to show their high lord some love!! I wanna see rhys in tears (in a good way), and they just praise him and love on him so good!! I can def see rhys having a major praise kink. feel free to ignore tho, thank you!!💖

Our Girl (Bat Boys! x Female! Reader) 

Based off this ask as well

AN: HAHAHA guys I’ve been reading The L.O.R.D.S series by Shantel Tessier and I’ve been fucking loving it. Also I wrote the second half of this in a fucking Barnes and Noble cafe, I was SWEATING, but I wanted to get it done for you because I have some cool Az stuff I’m working on for you!

Summary: When Rhysand becomes High Lord the boys find themselves too busy and too well known to visit their local pleasure house. So they hire the reader to to satisfy their needs.

Warnings: Smut (shocker),sub/dom dynamic, dirty talk, bondage, threesome, objectification, size difference??

Word count: 6,058

Things in Velaris were changing. The second the new High Lord rose to power it was like things were lighter. Shops stayed open later, the people laughed and drank at dinner more often, everything was just better. Yet in the Riverhouse at the edge of the city it seemed there were clouds stirring, in a metaphorical way of course. 

No one had seen Rhysand since the night his father died, which was months ago. 

The most powerful High Lord.

The most dangerous High Lord. 

The most handsome High Lord

And known by the girls at the pleasure house…the most well endowed High Lord.

At least what all my coworkers were whispering around me the day I was brought to the front by the mistress who ran the place. In all honesty I thought I was in trouble, not that I had done anything wrong in the past year I had been here. But no one ever got called to her office for nothing. 

I closed the door behind me to where my mistress was reading a letter, a violet wax seal stamped to the front. Her red hair and red gown complimented the scarlett of her office, of the whole pleasure house really. She claimed it was the color of passion, and demanded that we all practically bathe in it. 

“You asked to see me?” I say timidly. 

I couldn’t afford to lose this job, I had no family, no support system. Nothing to rely on or depend on. Sure it wasn’t the most prestigious career, but I did like it. I had always been interested in sex, fascinated with it really. The woman who lived next door to my family growing up was a sex worker. She always wore the most beautiful gowns and jewels, and lured the most handsome men to her home. My mother cursed me when I said I wanted to look like her one day but I didn’t care. 

“Yes I have a letter here, from the High Lord,” she says, showing me the letter she had been reading when I walked in. 

My eyes widen and the air is sucked from my lungs. What could the High Lord want with the house? Hell, what would the High Lord want with me? 

“The High Lord?” I gawk, taking a step forward attempting to catch a glance at the letter. 

She puts her glasses back down on her nose and reads the paper again, “yes, he asks that I send my very best girl to his townhouse at my earliest convenience.” 

“And you’re picking me?” I ask, my eyes wide. 

“You rake in more money than all the rest of the girls, you’re beautiful, elegant and well versed. I can think of no one better.” she explains setting the letter down on the desk.

My mind swirls, what does the High Lord want? Well sex of course, but I wasn’t one for house calls. Though I suppose he was the High Lord , he couldn’t very well walk in here with the anonymity that others could. 

“Well don’t just stand there!” my mistress shouts. “Go to the townhouse before he thinks me to be a simple fool.” 

I jilt from my thoughts and nod, walking briskly out the door. I bypass the other girls who are chatting about the High Lord and I wonder if any of them are aware of the letter that was sent, what his intentions might be. I guess there’s only one way to find out. 

I had watched the townhouse on the hill my entire life, knew that the High Lord lived there, and constantly wondered what it might be like inside. It was like the scary house at the end of the street that children stayed away from; it had been built up to that mythical status. Except it wasn’t scary—unless you counted scarily prestigious.

As I walked up the front steps and knocked on the door a woman with dark skin and   darker hair opened it and signaled for me to come in. The lush, thick, carpets gave reprieve to my aching feet. Stilettos on cobblestone was never a good idea, but what else did one wear to meet their High Lord? 

She gestured to a set of double doors at the end of the hall. I took in my surroundings, for what it was worth the place was beautiful. Ornate but tasteful. Expensive but lived in. I can see why the High Lord never left. I took a deep breath but before I could even knock on the doors a deep voice, one that could only be described as Night Triumphant, beckoned me to enter. 

I creaked open the door to find the High Lord busily doing paperwork at his desk. He was nothing and everything that I had expected. When the girls at the home whispered of his looks, his charm, I thought of something mythical. But the male before me? He transcended even that. 

His legendary violet eyes flitted up to mine and I swore my breath caught in my throat. He sat his papers down to the side as he stood, bracing his hands on his desk. If his height didn’t make me feel small the sheer power radiating off of him did. 

“My, my,” he croons, rounding the desk to lean against the front. “You are exquisite,” he says, crossing his strong arms in front of his chest. 

I suddenly remember the reason I was summoned here in the first place and I put on the mask, the role I was supposed to play. 

“Well my Lord, you asked for the very best.” I say smoothly taking two steps towards him. “So here I am.” 

“While I love the way ‘my Lord’ rolls off that pretty tongue, feel free to call me Rhysand, you’re going to be here for a while.” he smirked, and I swore there was a star that flashed in his eye. 

I nearly gulped at his words. 

You’re going to be here for a while…

I had been with needy men before, made a career out of it. But this was no man, and I wondered if I could keep up with him. 

“As you wish,” I say nodding my  head obediently. Males like him strived for dominance, it was my job to anticipate that. 

I feel a hand tilt my chin up and once again I’m met with his intense gaze. I was right about the stars, his eyes were littered with them. 

“The selfish part of me wants to play with you right now, but I have a feeling my brothers would be more than angry at me for having you first,” he smirked, his breath so hot on my face I almost jumped when I realized how close he was to me. 

Wait, the High Lord didn’t have brothers, he was an only child, an orphan really. “Brothers?” I ask, the question had slipped out before I could think of a better more professional way to ask. 

“Well not my biological brothers, but my brothers in arms I suppose,” he smirks, releasing my chin taking a step back towards his desk again. “Cassian, the general of my armies and Azriel my spymaster.” 

My breath gets caught in my throat. I had heard stories of the High Lord’s most trusted members of his court. They were large, Illyrian, and death on swift wings. My face must’ve given away my shock as Rhysand let out a low chuckle. 

“Don’t worry they won’t hurt you. They are to care for you as I do, it’s all written here in your contract,” he explained, sitting down and sliding a piece of paper over the desk. 

I made myself comfortable in the seat opposite of him, plucking the paper from the desk and skimming it over.

“You see,”  he begins. “Becoming High Lord has been rewarding but…well…tiring. Cassian and Azriel are just as tired. We aren’t given the same anonymity we had in our youth which has made finding sexual release difficult.” he said, his cheeks blushing slightly. 

“You’ll live here, I already have a room prepared for you. I’ll provide you with a salary  and provide for you in any way you need. In return you provide us with your…services?” he says the last word like he can’t think of a better way to say it. How is he sexy reading my contract to me?

I set the contract on the desk, “And what are the parameters of these services?” I ask leaning forward on the desk. 

Rhysand smiles leaning forward with me, “Mostly we will seek you out on our own but there will be certain times, like tonight, where we will want to share,” he grins like he can already see the scene. 

I nod slowly waiting for him to add anything else and he does. 

“Of course there will be safewords, though I doubt you will need them. Your mistress said you have a rather large palette,” he says and I get his meaning immediately. 

I can’t help but blush, the male already knows more about me than I do him. Something that rarely ever happens in my line of work.

“She didn’t mislead you,” I say, my lips tugging into a small smile. 

“Then you’ll take the job?” he asks plucking a fountain pen from its resting place. 

I look at the large number with lots of zeros written under ‘Salary’, it’s more than I make in three months. I could pay off all my debts with the first two paychecks, and after that? Well the shops of Velaris wouldn’t know what hit them. I could have the life I always dreamed of, expensive silks, fancy soaps, wine aged for thousands of years. And all I had to do was sleep with the three most powerful males in the Night Court. What female could possibly say no?

“I will,” I say, plucking the pen out of the High Lord’s hands singing the marked places next to his ornate signature. 

I look up to see Rhysand already staring at me, with a lust I hadn’t seen before, not in any male. How long had it been since he had sex?

He stands holding his hand out to me, “Allow me to show you to your room.”

“Are you ready to meet them?” Rhys asks with a glint in his violet eyes. 

I nod.

“Good I’ll go preface in, come in when I call you,” he smiles, pressing a kiss to my brow. 

Gods this man was incredible. Paycheck aside, I think I would bend over backwards just to hear him call me a good girl again. Something told me I would be doing just that for the foreseeable future. 

Rhysand opened the double doors and slipped in, the moment he closed it I pressed my ear to the door so that I could hear him. 

“Rhys what’s this about? I have business to attend to,” I hear a deep voice rumble. 

Rhys’ signature chuckle echoes off the walls, “I assure you Cassian that this is well worth your time.” he says. “Az you look tense,” he jests. 

“That’s because I am.” groans another voice. “We’ve been running all around the court righting all wrongs while you sit holed up in here doing paperwork.” 

“As I am well aware,” Rhys starts again. “And I don’t want to be known as the High Lord that merely takes, especially from the two males  I consider to be my brothers. So, I got you a little gift.” 

A pause of anticipatory silence fills the room. 

“Darling won’t you come out now?” Rhys beckons me. 

I open the door to find Rhys standing before two Illyrians sitting on the couch, both of them relaxed like this was their own home, and perhaps it was. 

“Huh?” asked the slightly larger one, with longer black hair. 

“She’s your gift, well, our gift,” Rhys said, pulling a hand around my waist. “I just hired her from the pleasure house in town, she is the best of the best. I know we all haven’t been able to visit the establishment since I came into power and I’m sure you’re both just as…frustrated as I am.” 

“How long do we have her for?” the same Illyrian asked, the one beside him seemingly more quiet. 

“She will be living with us. Use her as you’d like. Dress her however you want, but keep it classy. She’s as much yours as she is mine” Rhys smiles tilting my chin to meet his gaze and I swore my knees trembled a bit. “Though I’m sure she’ll remember who pays her?” he teases. 

“Yes my Lord,” I say seductively, it used to be an act, but not anymore. 

“My Lord,” he repeats. “I quite like the sound of that,” he purrs, looking over to the males sitting on the couch. 

The one with the red siphons smirks, throwing his arms over the back of the couch and spreading his legs. His thighs alone were the size of my head and I couldn’t help but wonder what it would feel like to get myself off on them alone. 

“Come here princess, sit on my lap,” he purrs, patting his thigh. 

I slip out of Rhysand’s grasp and pad over to perch myself on the Illyrians leg. The rippling muscles under me tensing. His hand comes up to brush a stray hair from my face as he takes in every inch of me. 

“You are a pretty little thing aren’t you?” he smirks as his other hand comes to support my back. 

Oh I was in for it, I was so in for it. 

“She’s the best of the best, her name is y/n.” Rhysand drawls watching intently as his brother who I have deciphered is Cassian, inspects me. “We decided earlier that her safeword will be starlight,”

“Y/n, huh?” he smiles brushing a stray hair from my face as he drinks in my attire, something Rhysand had clearly purchased for me to wear tonight. A black sheer little nightgown. Revealing, yet classy like he has said. It was clear to me that the male had exquisite taste. 

I feel a warm leather bump into my back as a scarred hand runs over my shoulder. I crane my neck up to find Azriel standing above me, from where he stands he can no doubt get a great view of my tits. 

“How should we thank dear old Rhysand for this marvelous present?” Cassian asks Azriel and the shadow singers eyes gleam.

“Oh I can think of a few ways,” he smirks. 

As if they all had one mind we were winnowed to the bedroom upstairs, my bedroom I realized. The bed had been made big enough for all of us, and I wonder how empty it would feel when the boys weren’t around. 

I look around me, the positions of us all haven’t changed. I find myself gazing up at Azriel, the hungry look in his eye has me taking a step back only to bump right into Cassian earning a chuckle from the general.  A glace to my bed has me seeing Rhysand sitting on it’s edge. 

“Az,” Cassian mumbles, sharing a knowing look at the shadow singer.

Before I can put together the pieces of Cassian and Azriel’s interaction, bands of shadows shoot from all over the room wrapping themselves around the hands and wrists of the High Lord. Rhys struggles for a moment, like it's second nature before he gives in, his face stern. 

“Az that’s enough,” he scowls. 

Azriel brushes off the command and turns my chin to meet his gaze. His finger brushes over my  bottom lip and I close my top lip over his thumb, giving it a gentle experimental suck. His eyes darken and the next thing I know I’m sucking on his thumb and looking at him like a doe eyed fool. 

“What a good girl she is,” he croons before dragging my face to him, replacing his thumb with his lips. 

His kiss and deep and searing, like nothing I’ve ever tasted before. His hands come to cup my face, keeping me there as he kisses me like a starved male. Gods, how long had it been since any of them had sex?

My hair is pushed to the side as I feel the general begin to leave sloppy kisses on my neck. He pulls my hips toward him, and I’m met with his hard on pressed to my back and his bare chest warming my skin. Azriel steps back with love drunk eyes and Cassian takes his opportunity to turn my hips so I’m facing him. 

Somehow he’s even more hulking and intimidating when bare. My eyes glance over the expanse of well built muscles to where his cock is already hard and leaking, and by the size of it I could tell I would be sore tomorrow. 

From behind me I can hear the faint unclasping of buckles signaling that Azriel is mimicking Cassian’s movements. 

“Let’s see you now, little one,” the general smirks before sliding both straps of the see through the gown off my shoulders. The black mesh falls to a pool of fabric on the floor and I’m laid bare for him, for all of them. 

A snap reverberates through the room pulling my attention to Rhysand, his sophisticated garb now long gone. The plains of his toned muscles and swirling tattoos that resemble his brothers on full display along with his aching cock. He’s even more marvelous nude than he is clothed. His lips tug up at the corner as he sees me eye fucking him. 

Cassian’s hand goes under my bare breast bringing my attention back to him, it seems that while I was ogling Rhys, he was studying me. 

“Rhys you’ve outdone yourself,” Cassian smirks and I’ve never felt so exposed. “Her tits are perfect,” he smiles before bending down to suckle an aching nipple into his mouth. 

I moan and lean back ever so slightly into a muscled chest, when I open my eyes Azriel stares down at me. A scarred hand drifts over my shoulder, down my side, and across my bum until it cups my sex and I gasp. 

Cassian’s lips smile against my breast before he moves on to the next one, my breath catching in my throat once again. 

“So small,” Azriel teases, referring to my cunt. “I’m not sure she can take us.” The glint in his eye tells me that this is a challenge, a test. 

“I can,” I say confidently and the shadowsinger laughs. 

“I think I’ll test that out,” Cassian grumbles, taking me in his arms. 

I’m pulled from Azriel’s fiery touch as the warmth of Cassian seeps into me. For the first time in a while my eyes snap to Rhysand. His brow was laced with sweat, as well as the skin on his chest. 

“Oh poor Rhys, did you want to touch her?” Azriel taunted, I was honestly surprised that they would dare to put their High Lord in this position. 

“Please,” Rhysand whimpered, making my heart lurch. 

Did  the most powerful High Lord, the most dangerous High Lord. the most handsome High Lord, the most well endowed High Lord… just beg? 

A sudden boost of confidence fills my chest. 

“Az pull him back on the bed, I’m going to be needing some room,” Cassian boasts massaging circles on my hips. 

Rhysand is pulled to the headboard, the shadows on his wrists pulling his arms out to either side as well as the ones on his ankles, preventing him from getting any sort of friction. The High Lord cursed, as if the brief fiction on his balls from being dragged across the sheets might’ve been enough to get him off.  The logical part of me knew that he could break free of these restraints at any given moment, hells the power practically radiated off of him. But he was here to play the game and I was too. 

“Why don’t you go play with your High Lord a little bit sweetheart,” Cassian croons, clearly loving the power trip he’s on. I take two steps forward before the general grabs me by the throat hauling me to his chest again. I look up at him like a love sick fool. “But stay clear of his cock. He’ll be the last to cum tonight. Doesn’t that seem fair Az?” 

“Seems more than fair to me, seeing as we’ve been doing all the flying around these past few weeks,” Azriel chuckles. 

Cassian releases my throat and I make my way over to the breathless High Lord. It takes everything in me not to straddle him and take him right there. His cock was red, angry, practically begging for it.

I sit on the edge of the bed to his right giving him my best bedroom eyes. Gone was the cocky male from earlier who made all sorts of promises of bedding me the best. Instead a male stripped to his most vulnerable sat before me, chest heaving, eyes wild. The muscles of his arms and legs flexing and bulging from trying to break free of the shadows that bound him, the bindings that made him this way. 

“They aren’t being very fair to you are they?” I say seductively trailing a hand down his shoulders, over the plains of his chest and to his abs. 

He shudders under my touch, “no they aren’t,” he breathes. 

“Mmm,” I hum, placing a kiss on his neck, even the thin sheen of sweat on him tasted divine. “And you were so nice, sharing your little fuck toy with them and now they won’t let me play with you,” I say donning a fake sadness. 

My hand brushes over his hip bone and down his thigh, carefully avoiding the hard erection begging to be brushed. 

“Please,” he whimpers his lips hot on my cheek, and I swear I hear Cassian and Azriel chuckle behind me. 

My hand swoops to his inner thigh, teasing the muscles there. His whimper has me caving, and I feel as though I’m suddenly not acting of my own accord as my hand wanders towards his cock. 

“Ah, ah, ah!” I hear Cassian tut before scooping  me into his arms and pulling me away from Rhys. Causing the latter to groan in frustration. 

“Using daemati to get a female to jerk you off? That’s a new low for you, Rhys.” Azriel chuckles 

Daemati. That would explain why I didn’t feel like I was in control for that one moment. I had heard that the High Lord possessed such powers, but I thought they were simply myths. 

I feel myself being bent over the storage bench at the end of the bed, the cloth covered fluff cushioning my knees and hands as I feel a harsh slap to my bum. 

“Fuck this is going to be so good,” Cassian murmurs from behind me. 

Azriel stands at the other end of the bench fisting his cock but before he can speak Cassian enters me. 

“Oh Gods!” I scream as I feel myself being pushed forward on my hands. 

The stretch of the general filling me so completely had me wondering if Azriel was right about my ability to take them all earlier. Cassian’s hands come to pull me down onto him, as if he needed the help to fully sheathe himself. One hand on my lower back, one on my hip.

“Shit she’s so fuckin’ tight,” Cassian groans as he begins to rock into me.

“Please, please,” Rhysand begs from his spot on the bed. 

I don’t even bother to see the new beads of sweat dripping from his brow, the drops of precum leaking out of his painfully hard cock. Hell, I can’t even think about anything other than the feeling of Cassian picking up the pace behind me. 

“Shh Rhys, I’m enjoying this tight little pus,” Cassian groans, tightening his hold on my hips. 

My arms are starting to go limp when Azriel’s hand tilts my chin up so he can see my fucked out face. 

“Open your mouth little one,” he says, fisting his cock and I obey like a puppet on a string. “What a good girl,” he smirks before tapping his cock on my outstretched tongue. 

“Fuck her mouth Az,” Cassian groans doubling down on his thrusts behind me. 

“You’re such an obedient little thing, I think I’m going to have a lot of fun with you.” he croons before thrusting his cock inside my mouth. 

The general’s relentless hammering shoves Azriel’s cock down my throat in perfect tandem and I start to wonder if there are other females who have found themselves in my position. With the way they fuck both ends of me so efficiently I wouldn’t doubt it.

It isn’t until my drool is falling down my face mixing with my tears that Azriel grips my hair forcing me down on his cock more. The male became more needy than he had been all night as his soft grunts filled the room. My eyes flitted to his hazel ones and a self satisfied smirk crossed his face. 

“You like this don’t you? You like being fucked in both your little holes?” He teases me, pulling my hair harder. 

His words have me whimpering around him and curling my toes. The spymaster was right, I loved this. That I could make these males, the most powerful in the Night Court, so feral, so unhinged. 

Cassain chuckles behind me slapping my ass again, “Too bad we don’t have someone to fuck this third hole back here,” he says taunting Rhys as I feel him trace a finger over that said third hole. 

“Fuck,” Rhys hisses from where Azriel has him restrained, watching the show they’re giving him. 

I feel my legs starting to tremble beneath me and as they start to give out Cassian swipes both hands under my hips to keep me upright. So upright my knees don't even touch the bench anymore allowing him to fuck me harder, deeper, and faster.

“You going to cum little one?” Cassian taunts me, picking up the pace a bit. 

My whine is enough to have Azriel slamming his hips into my face, spilling himself down my throat as my nose brushes the hair at the base of his cock. For a moment I can’t breathe at all, as I feel his seed spill over my tongue. When he pulls out I finally take in a deep breath, which is short lived as he grabs my chin forcing me to meet his gaze again. 

“Swallow,” he orders. 

I do as I’m told, feeling the thick white ropes slide down my throat, warming my stomach. 

His thumb tugs my jaw down forcing my mouth open as he makes sure every last drop is gone. When he’s satisfied he closes my mouth and gives my cheek a light slap, “good girl.” he mutters. 

“Finally,” Cassian breathes and I feel my front being shoved into the cushions on the bench before me, allowing Cassian to drive deeper. It seems his brother's use of my mouth was quite the inconvenience for him.

I make eye contact with Rhys who's painting and sweating. Moans and curses fall from his lips as he watches Cassian take me hard. It’s not long until I’m cumming around his cock.

“Oh gods!” I scream feeling my legs shake and the knot in my stomach unwind as I cum all over the general’s cock. 

Cassian growls, deep and primal, before delivering one last thrust, spilling himself into me, “That’s a good girl. Take it, take all of it.” he groans, forcing my body down. 

As the Illyrian pulls out of me I can feel my heart beating in my throat and in my head. My chest rises and falls in time with my shaking legs. But I know I’m not done, not while Rhysand looks at me like I’m water and he’s been wandering the deserts of summer for too long.

“You were so good, Rhys,” Cassian taunts, running his hand down the High Lord’s leg making his chest rise faster. “We just wanted to thank you for your wonderful gift, didn’t we Az?” 

Azriel nodded next to me, his scarred hands pulling me up  by my shoulders and then  hoisting me up by my thighs so my back was to his front. The position was more than awkward, but as he placed me on his High Lord’s shaking lap I understood why. 

“Make him feel real good princess, we love our Rhysie,” Azriel laughs upon seeing Rhys breath picking up. Despite his words he kept his restraints on the Lord, one last test. 

I place my hands on his chest, the skin there cold and clammy, and I can’t help but want to feel more. His eyes are blown out, and I feel as though he’s looking right through me. He’s a vision like this, maybe even more so than when he was sitting behind his desk looking like sheer power. He was vulnerable here. 

I run a hand down his face like I’m unable to help it and his eyes widen, “So handsome my Lord,” I breathe. “What do you want from me?” I ask as I press my lips to his.

He can hardly kiss back, can hardly even think besides anything but the need. Beside him his brothers run a hand through his hair and whisper praises to him, trying to bring him back. 

“Anything p-please, t-touch me,” he whimpers and I swear I see a tear roll down his face.  From not being touched at all, to being touched everywhere but where he needs most, the High Lord was being pushed to his limits. 

“Yes my Lord,” I whisper before sinking myself on his cock. 

Where Cassian was thicker, Rhysand was long, digging so deep into me that I felt a pinch as he brushed my cervix. The pain bringing me back from the fuck out haze the spymaster and the general left me in. 

Rhysand hissed low, “Oh fuck yes,” he groans pushing his head back on the headboard. 

Cassian’s hand comes up to brush the fallen hair and sweat from his High Lord’s head, “She’s a tight little thing isn’t she?” he asks, pressing a kiss to his temple. 

I splay my hands across Rhys’ chest, trying to give myself the leverage needed to bounce myself up and down on his cock. The slow drag of him inside of me has me scrunching my eyes shut trying to savor every sensation. My shaking legs make it hard to move myself up and down. 

“More, p-please,” Rhysand groans, his voice dropping deeper and starting to resemble the tone I heard this afternoon. 

“Az give her a hand,” Cassian instructs from where he sits by Rhys. 

I feel Azriel settle in behind me, his warm chest bumping against the clammy skin of my back. His hands lift my hips helping me to bounce up and down like I’m nothing but a cocksleeve. The motion makes me gasp and writhe as I’m able to settle to a faster and more stable pace. 

“Oh fuck Az,” Rhysand bites out. “I can’t,” he groans and I watch the muscles of his chest and arms go taut as he pulls on the shadowy bindings that keep him from touching me. 

The strain in his arms and chest is so great that I can see each individual muscle the Lord had built through the years. I couldn’t help but run my hands over him feeling each one. 

“Let him go Az,” Cassian instructs the shadowsinger and within seconds the bindings are gone, like even Az wanted to see what his High Lord would do next. 

Rhysand’s hands fall from the headboard and find their way to my hips. Turns out him not being able to touch me was a punishment for both of us. He shifts his hips so I fall forward, and he connects his lips to mine as he thrusts up into me, putting me at his mercy.

He consumes my mouth fully, running his hands up and down my sides greedily before squeezing my breast making me moan into his mouth. The way he kisses me tells me that I’m no longer in charge and neither is anyone else in this room for that matter. 

His lips detach from mine and fall to my neck leaving opened mouthed kisses there. His hands leave bruises in the skin of my hips as he slams up into me, his cock hitting my cervix with each stroke, those initial stings of pain becoming pleasure. 

“Oh fuck Rhys,” I moan completely forgetting his title. 

“Say it again,” he growls, his voice dangerously low. “Let them know who owns you!” 

I had completely forgotten about the other Illyrians in the room with us. I glance to the side to find Azriel fisting his cock beside me. When I don’t moan the Lord name again a swift slap comes across my ass. 

“Rhysand!” I cry out, feeling the euphoria of him. 

“Fuck it,” he seethes and before I register what he means by it, my back hits the mattress. 

The new position gives him a new range of motion to piston into me. Somehow he’s able to hit me even deeper this way.  Causing me to let out wanton cries and moans as he fucks me, my polished nails scraping down his back trying to find purchase. 

“Yeah Rhys get it!” Cassian cheers from the edge of the bed. 

The taunt makes the High Lord feral, slamming his hips into me. He’s more animal than man at this point having been teased all night. The near primal growl he lets out has me cumming on his cock, my back arching off the back, my moan guttural. 

My cunt squeezes his cock as pleasure lights up my body like lightning, and it isn’t long until  I feel his hips stutter as he cums inside of me with a groan. 

“Oh fuck yes,” his voice is like gravel as I feel him spilling inside of me endlessly, his seed joining Cassian’s. 

Faintly, through the roaring in my ears I can hear Cassian and Azriel’s grunts as well as they finish. The idea of them getting off to their High Lord cumming inside of me is almost enough to make me beg him to do it again. But as he collapses beside me I feel how spent I truly am. 

Rhys hand comes to brush back my hair from my face as he places a kiss to my temple, “Such a good girl for us,” he says to me before turning to Cassian again, “Go get her a towel and a glass of water.” he orders, clearly re-assuming his role as the High Lord. 

He spends the next minute or so running a hand over my hair as he cradles me to his chest soothing me. My breath starts to slow and I feel a warm towel beneath my legs as Cassian wipes away the mess they both made. Glass touches my lips as Rhys helps me to drink the water brought to me. Whatever I don’t finish he downs in one go. 

“Leave us,” he orders pulling the covers over our cold and clammy bodies. 

“What no post sex cuddles for me?” Cassian laughs, throwing up his hands. I laugh before placing a kiss on Rhys chest, as much as I wouldn’t mind all three of them holding me right now I know who pays my bills now. 

“Fine,” Rhys huffs, throwing back the covers behind me so Cass can slip in. 

I wonder where Azriel will lie, but when my eyes search for him he’s already out the door walking to his own room undoubtedly. Something tells me he’s different from his two brothers, he’s quiet, but the words he told me earlier have me wondering what’s up his sleeve.

Cassian’s arms curl around me, and eventually the three of us fall asleep. But the voice that swims through my head as sleep takes me is Azriel’s.

I think I’m going to have a lot of fun with you…

(This is going to be a series! I think I'll do one for each bat boy! If you want to be tagged let me know and if there's any kinky shit you wanna see let me know in the comments or drop it in my inbox!)

Taglist: @yearninglustfully, @moviesismylife,  @readingislife2006, @bookishbroadwaybish, @danikamariemain,  @winchesterbbygrl

Permanent Taglist: @fides25, @dissociated-always @crystalferret202, @batboyrhyrhy , @kennedy-brooke , @sunshineangel-reads , @lilah-asteria , @evergreenlark

[jadeylovesmarvelxo]

🎲🖤 Devils roll the dice, angels roll their eyes 🎲🖤

Writing a little fic about the reader joining Hellfire after being kicked out of the original D&D group she's in, for reasons *cough (sexist arseholes)* and Eddie is literally in love with this feisty lady who interrupts the latest Hellfire campaign and asks to join the group, who's planned campaigns involving Vecna and has no trouble arguing with him if he's being a dick. (The latter might be in part two if people are interested)

Vecna who's Vecna? Eddie is alive and thriving in this fic. Also, I'm not 100% well-versed in D&D but I am learning, if I do part two I hope to include more into the plot.

The title is lyrics from Cruel Summer by Taylor Swift 💞

💞

"You can't just kick me out of the group," you say fuming as Ethan looks at you with pity.

"I'm the Dungeon Master so technically I can, the guys just think that you take playing a little less seriously than the rest of us" he lies straight to your face and the anger that is bubbling up inside of you threatens to explode.

"What! I literally built the last three campaigns because you couldn't come up with anything, I came up with the plan to defeat Vecna and...you glare at him, this is what it's about isn't it. You hate that I can come up with the ideas for campaigns and because I'm good at the game. Of all the idiotic, sexist bullshit...

Ethan blushes. "Look, I want to see if Eddie would let me and the guys join Hellfire and maybe he might let me DM sometimes but if he finds out that you helped make up most of them well...

So you're kicking me out to save yourself the apparent humiliation of a girl being better at D&D than you are" he flushes pink and glares at you.

"Whatever. We'll be fine without you. Good riddance" he storms off by that point leaving you alone and tearful. You're just so pissed that you have to leave the group, leave something you love playing.

There's a gentle pressure on your shoulder and you find Robin looking at you concerned. "What was that about? Did he do something to hurt you? I could ask Steve to kick his ass, unless you want to kick his ass yourself which is great and all and...

She stops talking when she sees one silent tear run down your cheek which you wipe away furiously, nope you will not cry because of that gargoyle Ethan.

"Robin breathe, and yeah I'm okay. I mean I will be" you explain everything that happened and by the end Robin is as angry as you are.

"He can't just kick you out, what a douchebag, how exactly is he going to explain away the fact he has no amazing ideas for campaigns without you there?

You should talk to Eddie and join Hellfire yourself, he's actually a nice guy well according to the Steve's child/brother friend. The dingus is jealous of Eddie which is kind of sweet and hilarious..." She cuts off her rant at the growing smile on your face.

"Oh no, I know that look" you grin widens and you link arms with Robin. Yes you'll join Eddie and expose Ethan for the slimy ass that he is.

❤️

With the idea in mind you decide to ask Eddie before Hellfire starts but instead find yourself walking into a session which is in full swing. Well shit. Way to make a good impression...

Eddie stops talking, he's in the middle of the campaign, just at the part where a group of rogue trolls have invaded the party and turned the gathering of friends at a tavern into a fight for survival.

"Yes... Uh cheerleader tryouts are the other way sweetheart" You scoff and raise your eyebrows at him.

"Do I look like a cheerleader to you? I'm sorry to interrupt. I wanted to catch you before you started the session, I was wondering if I could join Hellfire?"

You know Jeff from being in drama with him and he's the first to say, "Uh aren't you in that group with Ethan and George?" You shake your head.

"I was. Until they kicked me out" Eddie's big brown eyes widened and the annoyed expression was wiped from his face, he ignored the complaints of some of the freshmen and motioned you to explain.

"Ethan kicked me out because he's an arrogant, sexist troll" one of the freshmen groans and gestures widely to Eddie.

"Dude, can we hurry up and continue with the session" Eddie holds a hand up to quieten him and stares at you his eyes filled with grudging curiosity.

"Why did he kick you out?" You frown and the anger returns at Ethan and his betrayal.

"Because he wants to join up with you and impress you with his amazing DM skills which are a load of shit. He didn't even organise the last three campaigns, I did. He liked to use all of my ideas but won't have me blow his chances of pretending he's something he isn't" there's silence and Eddie looks impressed.

There's also something else in his expression that makes your stomach feel like it's doing somersaults but you can examine that later.

"So you're here to join instead before the little weasel does. Beat him at his own game huh sweetheart?" you nod and he smiles, all dimples.

"Well yeah basically, I love D&D but I also want to annoy the hell out of the asshole as well, he's just pissed that I came up with a campaign for Vecna and doesn't want me showing you how much he doesn't do for his own group" you finish your rant and wait for his answer.

Eddie's smiling by the end of your rant and gestures you over to the group.

"I like you, you can sit in and watch this session because we're more than halfway through but I'm happy for you to join the group and our next meeting. You can tell me about your stats and character after the session is over"

Thrilled you walk over to the table and Eddie barks at one of the guys to move so you're standing right beside him.

It was so not time for your heart to be doing its own version of a mini-marathon at the mere sight of Eddie's big brown eyes capturing yours. Fuck, you did not have time for whatever this was. You were here to battle dragons, defeat trolls (in real life as well) and be a badass.

Crushing on Eddie Munson would have to wait.

❤️

Eddie is definitely planning on killing Wheeler's character in the next session. He glares as Mini Wheeler finishes his rant about last night.

"You know it's so gross the way you were mooning over her all night right? Make it more obvious that you have a crush on her dude" he whines and Eddie scowls which seems to snap Mike out of his constant whining.

"I was not mooning Wheeler. I was impressed with the way she knew what she wanted and went for it, she will be a valuable asset to Hellfire"

Gareth hides a laugh as he continues eating and Eddie redirects his glare to his friend. "Anything to say Gareth the Great?" Gareth stops laughing at once but still looks amused.

"Dude, you were totally mooning over her, I think someone's in love" Eddie can feel the heat rise on his cheeks and scoffs, how dare Gareth make such an idiotic assumption.

"Love? I don't believe in love dude. This heart is far too cynical for any of that shit. I was just intrigued that's all" he's ready to fully rant when he sees you and his heart skips a beat, argument dying in his throat and his knees turn to jelly.

"Yeah be more obvious Munson" Jeff sniggers which causes Gareth to nearly choke on his sandwich.

Okay, scratch that. He's killing Gareth and Jeff's characters too.

💞

As you walk into the cafeteria the next day you avoid your usual table and head straight for Hellfire.

You wave cheerily over at Ethan and the guys and smirk at their thunderous expressions. Eddie snorts but when you look at him there's no trace of his previous amusement as he mentions the next Hellfire session will be tomorrow.

You're distracted by Ethan glowering in your direction, his arms folded as he snaps at Dean. There's a soft pressure on your hand and you look down to find Eddie's hand touching yours, it gets your attention immediately.

"We can go over your character tonight yeah? There's a spark between the two of you, it lingers in the air and your heart kicks up a notch as Eddie lets out a little groan.

He clears his throat and moves his hand away, you hide how flustered you are as he begins to talk about the new campaign but every so often his gaze meets yours and the same level of intrigue is in his gaze as you feel for him.

💞

"Lady Emmeline is an elven princess who ran away from her duties when her parents tried to marry her off to a vile prince, she's proficient with a bow and arrow but her real talent is swordsmanship, she's intelligent, brave and bold but can be impulsive and hotheaded if provoked" you read out to Eddie who nods.

"Was she your character in your old D&D group?" Eddie asks and you nod, leaning closer to him as he pulls out his notebook. It's chock-full of ideas for campaigns and drawings, being so near Eddie is playing havoc with your concentration.

He smells like leather, the faintest hint of smoke and whatever cologne he's using. It's woody and smells divine. The softness of his usually loud voice and his big Bambi eyes are distracting. It wouldn't bother you so much or at least you'd try to avoid it but the way you catch Eddie looking at you sometimes makes you melt.

It's ridiculous because you've never felt this way before about anybody but now it's happened it's overwhelming and intense.

"Nice tattoo" you murmur and he smiles as you nod to the bats and the Wyvern. "I have more" he pulls down his Hellfire shirt and you can see a black widow spider and a glimpse of a demon.

Very gently you trace a finger over one of the bats on his forearm, Eddie's breath hitches and you curse yourself for possibly freaking him out. "Sorry," you murmur and chance a peek at his expression. It's filled with longing.

"Don't be sorry princess" he's hesitant at first but then after a moment you feel his fingers trace soft patterns over your hand. The feel of his fingers on your skin is amazing and it makes you shiver in a good way.

His eyes drop down to your lips and the two of you move closer instinctively until you're both mere inches apart.

And that's when Dustin barrels in speaking a mile a minute and you and Eddie jump apart at the interruption.

Fuck.

[ffwriting]

Aot Characters - Nicknames

What nicknames the Aot Characters would have for you!

Also, enjoy the new banners. I like using them more than I thought I would :)

cw: canon verse, slightly ooc, Implied female reader in half of Eren's and Jean's, but the rest are gn readers, no y/n, some cringey nicknames with good reason, Fluff <3!

wc: 1.7k

Characters: Eren Yeager, Mikasa Ackerman, Armin Arlert, Jean Kirstein, Connie Springer, Levi Ackerman, Hange Zoe

Eren Yeager - Sweets, My girl

Eren is the type of person to see a couple while out as a kid and overhear them calling each other pet names, and one of them that he heard once was Sweets. He found it cringy at first, but after hearing it a couple more times, he came to like it. a lot. So naturally after finding a partner, or even once he realizes he has a crush on you, he just starts to call you it. He didn't even realize it at first, but when you gave a questioning look his way when he first said it, he explained why he did. Safe to say that even if you didn't like the nickname, you sure as heck like the story behind it and the man calling you it.

Another name Eren would give you would be my girl. He wouldn't say it in a possessive way though, he would just say it as if he was infatuated. If he was able to get you to be his partner, then maybe this life could be a little better, so he was just so happy that you two were actually dating. He would take every chance to remember it too, so he just started calling you his girl. Most of the time you wouldn't even be the one he would be talking you and he would still call you it. "Yeah, did you see how my girl did in training today? It was so cool."

(I just realized that I used the word 'would' 3x in one sentence, but I'm too tired to fix it now)

Mikasa Ackerman - Middle/last name

I do not think that Mikasa would be much for nicknames, it just doesn't seem like her. She would end up just trying to find something she could call you because she probably overthought about how you would want her to give you a cute nickname, and got a little insecure about it. However, she one day overheard someone talking about how they like to go by their middle name, and she got an idea. She decided that she would call you a shortened version of your middle name. But she decided to make some versions of your last name too because she overthought on how you might not like the ones she came up with for your middle name, so she decided she should just be safe. She has so many thoughts and she just can't seem to express them through words.

Armin Arlert - N/n, angel

Okay, Armin is definitely the type of person who is too embarrassed to call you any of the classic pet names, but he does often like to call you by a nickname he thought of one day. He figured that it was the safest option, it showed that he wanted to call you that stuff, but wasn't too much that he would cringe at himself.

Another thing he calls you is an angel. 100%. No doubt in my mind. Especially if you are kind. He would just be listening to you talk and when you would ask for advice on the situation that he was totally not listening to. He would reluctantly say something like, "I'm sorry you are like an angel, could you please repeat that?"

Technically he doesn't really call you it, he just compares you to one so often to the point where he just catches himself calling you angel in normal conversations. It would just become one of the many ways that he showed his affection for you.

Jean Kirstein - Doll, Woman

Doll is a name that Jean would only refer to you as when you two are alone. Whether you two were out training alone together after the rest went to lunch, or chatting when you both could in the Scouts, he would call you it. I don't think he means it in the current way the pet name is romanticized (currently most fics refer to the pet name as something associated with sexual acts, or mean/rude characters ex: Toji from jjk). I think he would mean it in more of a gentle way, like you are so precious to him like some people's dolls. Despite the faux tough guy act, deep down, sometimes deeper than he would like, he cherishes the people closest to him, friends, family, and you. He cherishes you all, and Doll is the easiest way he can tell you that without saying it.

Jean is the type to act entitled and call you 'woman' to seem like he is this big macho type of man. However, in his mind he just likes calling you it because you often become sassy with him. (Also it gives him a small ego boost that he is the only one who could call you that because to him you were his Woman)

Connie Springer - Your Name, joking pet names

Connie, oh Connie. This guy normally just calls you your name like a normal person. He likes your name, that is all he can really say about it.

HOWEVER, this man sometimes feels like being such an annoyance, lovingly of course. If he felt like it, he would randomly start calling you the cringiest pet names possible. Like I'm not talking sweetie or sugar, I'm talking shit like lovebug and cutie patootie. And he would have no shame in doing this either because he knows that you will break from embarrassment first.

Sometimes you would try to get him back by calling him things like sugarlips and baby boy, but it would fail most of the time because you would just end up cringing at yourself. This would often make you wonder what it would take to make the infamous Connie Springer cringe in embarrassment.

Levi Ackerman - Brat, Your Name + Bonus

The first nickname that I think Levi would call you would be brat, classic, I know. He would just call you this out of annoyance, or sometimes if you were doing something a little too reckless. It was just second nature for him to call you a brat, and even after you two got closer, he just kept calling you that. In all honesty though, sometimes he calls you that, and not in an endearing way. It would probably happen when you have a little too much energy for whatever reason, and he just called you that because you were be annoying to him at that point in time. Most of the time though it is meant in a nonserious manner.

Levi loves to call you by your name, he does not show it that much on his face, but he absolutely loves it. It is slightly weird to get called by your full first name by Levi, and the first time definitely startled you. However, you soon got used to it. Levi, on the other hand, somehow got happier every single time he called your name. He didn't know how just saying your name could make him feel that uncomfortable feeling of happiness, but it did. He would say it any chance he could, without making any feeling he had obvious. Soon he was addicted to it like it was a drug to him. He was not a big fan of it. He loved, and hated, how it made him feel.

Bonus (platonic nickname): Kid

Levi would call you kid even if you were just a month older than him. Why you may ask? Because he found it funny to annoy you, and that nickname definitely would. You had been in the Scouts longer than him, you were taller than him, and you had almost the same amount of respect from Erwin, so why was he calling you kid? It irked you so you ended up calling him kid as well.

When you first did this, you were met with a questioning look, and you defended yourself, "You call me a kid all the time, but I'm not the one that is built like one." This may or may not have earned you extra cleaning duties for the day, but the next time you did it he just gave you an annoyed look. Soon enough, you both tried to come up with simple names to call each other to try to piss the other off. Sometimes you could swear you could see a small smile on his face after you both went back and forth with nicknames.

If you ended up dying, he would never call anyone else kid though. He would be too scared of making the same connection of love, and having them die again, again.

Hange Zoe - My love, Darling

Hange 100% will call you 'my love.' Their reasoning? You are. They would even call you this before you two started getting close because Hange already knew they had a crush on you.

'My love' will be used to refer to you more than your actual name. Hange would even refer to you as that to the other Scouts. Like they would be reporting results to Erwin, and just casually say, "Yes, and my love even recommended the idea that….." This would leave Erwin very confused the first time around until after the meeting he asked an annoyed Levi who the 'my love,' Hange was referring to was. When he learned that it was you, it all just clicked for him, and he didn't even blink an eye when you were called by that name the next time he heard it. And he heard it a lot. Hange just loved calling you 'my love.'

Another thing that Hange loves to call you is Darling (Ex: that one scene where a titan almost bit them and they say, "You almost got me there, Darling"). Hear me out.

Hange would call you this anytime you got even slightly snippy, brash, or fed up with something. It would just come out of their mouth like second nature when seeing you upset. You would have said something a little harsher than you meant to, but you were getting really annoyed with someone in the Scouts, so you were put on edge. When you went to say something to apologize for being rude, Hange cut you off with, "You alright, Darling?" with a perfect mix of concern and playfulness in their voice. That line made you entirely forget about being annoyed and made everything in the shitty world feel even just a little bit better. You would just respond with a quick shake of your head, give them a hug, and feel a little happier for the rest of the day because how could you have a bad day with Hange in your life?

Okay random ramble from me-

Okay so I hop from fandom to fandom a lot, right

Recently, the past two years, I have noticed that in every single fandom there are patterns. Like characters will have the same personality trait, and if you are not careful you might confuse a fanfic for being for one character, but it really is for another character in an entirely different series.

You will have the classic main character personality that is either overly sexualized for their own good, or not taken seriously at all, or both. Ex: Izuku in mha, Ittadori in jjk, Tanjiro in demon slayer, Naruto in naruto

Then, you will have the stoic side characters who have more fanfiction than most other characters. Ex: Shoto Todoroki and Aizawa in mha, Choso and Megumi in jjk, Mikasa and Levi in aot

Also, there is the type of character that made me realize this trend, the 'dumb' side characters that are mostly used to make the watcher laugh. Ex: Connie in aot, Denki and Sero in mha, Nishinoya and Tanaka in Haikyuu, Zenitzu and Inoske in Demon Slayer, and maybe some others that I am missing.

Please tell me that I am not alone in noticing this. Like please tell me this is a normal experience and that I am just going through this realization embarrassingly late in my fanfiction life.

Also, I feel like I only noticed this when I was fandom hoping recently and it just clicked in my head that Smau writers tend to write Nishinoya and Denki similarly. Anyway, thanks for coming to my ted talk. Enjoy this small writing while I start to, hopefully, work on some angst works so I can lure in the other half of the aot fandom bc a lot of you love yourselves some good angst. Like the show wasn't angsty enough already

[shiraishi-kanade]

AWAKE NOW: an (almost) line by line analysis by yours truly, pt.1

If you've been following me at all, you probably know that Awake Now is my favourite An Shiraishi commission and that I always ramble how symbolic and incredible its lyrics are, among other things. Well, it's time for me to actually explain why I think it's so great!

This is part one tackling only in-game version; I'll later make an addition to this post expanding on the full version lyrics, because there is also a lot to unpack there and I don't want to do all what work in one sitting. Sorry.

[Disclaimer: for a quite a long time, the commonly accepted translation of this song has been facing criticism, and quite a lot of lines have been changed into what I believe is more accurate later. More corrections may be yet to come, but this post will use the translation available at 27.10 by Hiraethie, with edits by Violet and 25239x.]

Lazy Rainy My Soul is

now in a bad mood

From this new feeling called Lament

(New feeling called Lament)

The first verse of the song is referencing An's growing unease she experiences during the time of Bout to be Beside you; while she doesn't know why she feels that way at the beginning, a big emphasis is made on how she never felt that way before, because even having a partner is something that is a new experience for An.

The supposed relationship full of perfection

got complicated on its way

This line references the way An perceives her own and Kohane's partnership, as well as just their general dynamic: they started off strong but already faced some conflict during Singing in Sync, the very first event of VBS, during which An had to confront her overprotectiveness; now this relationship is starting to get even more complicated with An's anxiety and "hazy feelings" thrown into the mix.

Not only that, it's also important that this line went to Touya - who went through his own issues in his relationship with Akito.

Still staying passionate, I Try

A general callback to An's attitude to losing and having roadblocks:

🎧: I hate to lose, but I usually take a more positive approach to think and work harder to do better next time.

(btby episode 4, official tl)

As well as, in this particular situation, she only sees one way to get over her feelings: to stay passionate and keep singing. This line is later brought up again in Rekka with "My silence and passion, I kept them inside my heart" line.

It's not like you're the one at fault

This is An's admitting that Kohane is never at fault for making An feel the way she does; that she has the full right and ability to make progress and keep improving as much as she wants to, and An could never blame her for it. At the same time, An is bitter at herself for having these feelings at all, which we later see in WTWG.

Trip Step, I want to do that again and again

If we could light up the night together

For eternity, then...

An wants to be Kohane's partner and keep singing with her despite the anxiety she brought into her life. If we look at the phrase "light up the night" to mean performing and bringing excitement to people (which it very well could be, seeing the overall symbolism of fire and light has in VBS's story), it becomes apparent this refers to An wanting to stay partners with Kohane forever, especially considering these lines in the event itself:

👤: Have you found a good partner yet, An?

🎧: No, not yet... It's taking longer than I expected...

🎧: But I have a feeling that we're gonna be singing together forever once I do!

***

🎧: That she's [Kohane] the only one who can be my partner...

(same event, chapter 5)

An is willing to go to extreme length to keep being Kohane's partner - so they can "light up the night" together.

Falling in love with the sound of my wings

that I outstretched to the skies,

This line goes to Kohane as well as Touya, but refers primarily to Kohane's discovering her own talent and (rightfully) enjoying all the new experiences and emotions it has brought into her life. It's also a clever play on Kohane's name, seeing as if she had a kanji spelling instead of hiragana, it most definitely would have included the character 羽 - "wing" or "feather". This same wordplay is then later used in Hollow:

預かる背中のその羽が

azukaru senaka no sono hane ga

This is confirmed by the song's producer and the very same character is used in Awake Now, so it's very unlikely it's just a coincidence - at the same time, "outstretching her wings" definitely refers to Kohane gaining new abilities and exploring new opportunities with Taiga.

the flowers of my dreams start overflowing.

I’ll make them sublimely

beautifully bloom so,

Seemingly, An has gotten everything she's ever wanted: she found a partner and a team, and townfolk are starting to take her dream more seriously - but her feelings about Kohane are overwhelming and distracting her from that, even during practice. Even so, An is determined to make that relationship work.

The first line here also went to Kohane and Touya, likely reflecting how their dream was found somewhere later than An and Akito's was, so that development is even more spontaneous to them than to the first two.

don’t forget that I’m right next to you, okay?

This is both reassurance to Kohane that An will always be by her side and believing in her, and a plea by An for Kohane not to forget her as she keeps growing and moving forward, and for Kohane to keep An by her side. It's a very nice double edged sword of a line and probably one of my favourite ones in the entire song.

Also, it also has Akito in the background, which is just... *Gestures at Stray Bad Dog event*. And this moment in BTBY too:

🥞: She's having an effect on the rest of us, including me, which means you, her partner, probably have it worse...

🥞: You feel like you're getting left behind... Like I did a while ago...

Akito went through something very similar, though not identical - that's likely the reason he was able to notice An's worries and help her in the first place.

Even if our touching backs begin to separate

Kohane is starting to pursue training with Taiga outside of An's reach, and An is starting to bottle up her feelings about Kohane - they're no longer as emotionally close as they used to be, and that's okay. Might also refer to the difference in skill level that is not there yet but will become quite apparent soon: their touching backs begin to separate... Perhaps even going in different directions.

Awake Now

The name drop and the meaning behind the song title: An is now aware of the feelings she experienced back in Awakening Beat and the true reason behind it, as unpleasant as it may be.

This doesn't end with my longing alone

This is perhaps one of the most interesting lines in the song, as it's the one that has faced the most misinterpretation, previously being translated as "I will never stop yearning for you."

Nevertheless, a corrected translation makes a lot more sense. An refuses to be the only one "yearning" in her and Kohane's relationship; she wants to keep inspiring Kohane and make her go even further, for Kohane to keep yearning for An and her singing, too.

🎤: Since you want to be someone she can “respect and be proud of”, An, you want her to like and be excited by the way you sing.

(same event, chapter 6)

This later comes back as a major theme in WTWG:

🎧: (But you know what, Kohane?)

🎧: (I'm not satisfied with that.)

🎧: (I want to drag it out of you, too.)

🎧: (This new power of yours, all sorts of feelings you've never felt before, all of it, all of it!)

🎧: (I want to drag it out of you, with my song!)

(WTWG, chapter 7, tl by Lozy Bug on YouTube)

...and more throughout the same chapter. In other words, while Kohane's singing make An experience new feelings and emotions, An doesn't want to be the only one of the two this happens to - so... She starts working towards doing it right back at her. But in BTBY, this specifically refers to the "I want to keep singing with you forever" feeling, too.

In other words, even the game version of Awake Now is basically An's Shiraishi character arc condensed into one song; it breaks down the point of conflict in BTBY down to it's bare essentials, and expands on motives that will later come back in play over a year later - and that is why I consider this song to be the best An Shiraishi comm.

And we haven't even gotten to the full version.

[anotherbummer]

Good Omens Season 3 Confirmed (trailer)

jk jk but could you imagine if any of this happened

I told myself I wouldn't go crazy working on this and then I ended up with 5 spreadsheets of dialogue trying to piece together this puzzle. Also I will need everyone to cut me some slack because I made this entire video on my phone while I was manic.

On that note, this trailer is largely based on 2 of my favorite Good Omens fics: Demonology and the Tri-Phasic Model of Trauma: An Integrative Approach by @mouseonamoose and Factory Settings by Anonymous. I love the idea of Crowley and Aziraphale having a therapist and it always reminded me of the character Dr. Linda Martin who plays the devil's therapist in the series Lucifer (Based on characters created by Neil Gaiman!) Also I tried really hard to hint at different parts of the Factory Setting story through clips, especially with clips of Crowley grabbing his glasses (which in this case would be Raphael wearing Crowley's glasses, which is a pretty big plot point in the story).

Lots of the audio clips and dialogue comes from the show itself (and a few clips from Lucifer), but I did comb through some clips of other shows that the actors were in, like Michael Sheen in Passengers, and David Tennant in Inside Man, etc. However the longer audio clips of "god" speaking are direct quotes from the Factory Setting fic (although I am almost certain that Raphael says them when he gets the Book of Life, So technically speaking, these lines are used out of context). I just ran the lines through a text to voice generator and then added a "godly/celestial" effect to it, which worked a lot better than I though it was going to. I had LOTS of potential dialogue I could have used but it didn't all fit super well together in the sense that it didn't either sound like the character speaking, or it didn't flow like a normal conversation. Believe me I tried, my phone can only do so much.

The music choice was obviously chosen on purpose, God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen (Epic Mix) by Mark Petrie, for the purpose of pacing, I slowed it down slightly. I really liked the idea of using this song since the Factory Setting story partially revolves around "the second coming" baby and since we are nearing the Christmas season, it just seemed like sense to work on this now. The lyrics get pretty repetitive but I do wish I could have thrown in the "Fear not then, said the Angel. Let nothing you affright" verse somewhere in there.

Don't ask me to explain the actual plot of this I really just mashed two fanfics together and called it a day. I thinks that's all the notes I had.

[mysterycitrus]

AHHHH greta your ranking of people that deaged! dick met,,, im chewing ice furiously. it's so so heartbreaking to think about because both tim and damian (esp damian) are so adamant in their belief that being robin was a good thing, maybe the best thing to happen to them. in fact, each robin feels that way (even jason and to a certain degree, steph!!!). and that is so at war with dick's internal belief that his mother's name, the grayson legacy, his legacy- has been bastardized,,, the colours being gone from damian's suit, especially!! it would be so hard for deaged!dick to reconcile that he was, in fact, the one who primarily designed damian's suit but to him (current!dick), that erosion of the colours and his legacy was exactly that- an erosion- it happened gradually and over time and too often, dick felt like a bystander with a lack of agency despite the fact that each subsequent robin was looking to him for approval or guidance or commiseration or just understanding. if deaged!dick had exactly any idea how much of an enabler he has been, too in what robin became to mean to gotham, to all these kids, i think he would actually combust from self-hatred (beyond what he has assumed and gleaned from events in fic!verse). anyway, I just wanted to say i read the newest chapter and actually lost all semblance of being able to articulate anything i was feeling. it all just felt like GRIEF. the awful, awful burning feeling of being seventeen, I think if I had to meet 17 yo me, I, too would actually want to die. it truly, truly was a joy to read and I'm so grateful you shared this fic with us,,, ur brain is so BIG!!! thank you for sharing your words with us im gonna be thinking about it all for days and days <3

tyvm!!! really really glad it resonated!! it’s interesting how part 3 is being read cause to me like…. as much as no one can understand his mindset, 17yo dick grayson is just not equipped to understand exactly how much the world has changed in a decade. he notices that the manor has been rebuilt, and that the gotham skyline has changed, but how would one explain death in the family, or the cataclysm, or no man’s land, or knightfall, or contagion, or the crisis, or donna and bruce’s deaths? can he really understand that being robin was a bright spot in these kids lives, regardless of the grief? that’s the nature of the tragedy — things are so much worse and so much better than he could imagine.

in saying that though — there’s a lot dick will let slide because he and bruce love each other to the point of ruin. that’s something dick, ten years younger and hurting and grieving, was immediately able to clock. what dick does as an adult, the purposeful distance he build around himself from others, both protects and hurts him. he keeps his cards so close to his chest. he fears being truly seen. in this post-crisis universe, when his role as robin ended in heartbreak, was there ever a point when it could’ve passed on peacefully? or is he doomed to repeat that cycle, however intentionally kind, to tim?

he is a witness to his own grief. he is loved, but every action they take proves that these people don’t know him. he cannot change what has already happened. he is trapped in a past that is long since over. if he understood how hurt bruce had been, the extent to which robin was a crutch for his sense of control, what would he think? if he understood what happened to stephanie — bruces fear pushed to an absolute limit to devastating results — would he be able to live with himself? would he recognise himself at all? like the ship of theseus, he is slowly stripped of everything but name. everything is so precious that sharing it is painful.

[themidnightcrimson]

religion ࿏ wm

summary: in which the new reverend at your hometown church wants to give you a lesson on sexual immorality.

words: 5.6K

warnings: pastor!wanda, fem!reader, oral (r giving), fingering (r receiving), slight non-con/dubcon, manipulation, dumbification, degradation, religion, lots of bible verses, rip my religious trauma, spank me with a bible, fuck me with the crucifix, yes lord in wanda's name we pray amen

this post is for 18+ only. minors dni.

masterlist.

A few women in the church had put together a potluck after one Sunday sermon, or a “covered dish supper” as the elders liked to call them. You remembered loving those potlucks as much as you loved church itself when you were a child. As the years went by and your worldview got bigger and your mind opened up to the broader possibilities that this was not what life should be like, you scarcely ever went to church.

Upon moving away for college, the idea of church was a laughable thing to you. You could hardly even remember what the rituals were anymore, or the verses, or the hymns. It wasn’t necessarily a hatred or aversion, but rather a bitter distaste in your mouth when reminded of how indoctrinated you and your whole community were into the church. You just weren’t religious anymore, and you preferred living life that way, though it took years of untying the knots of theological principals and “truths” from your mind.

When you were back in your hometown for a visit, your mother nearly fell over at the sight of the little rainbow bracelet on your wrist. After a very heated conversation where you threw in her face the fact that you had been with multiple women in college, she seemed to give up and leave the conversation alone—until the next morning she asked you to come to church with her.

“Really? You think going to church is going to reverse the way that I was born? You expect me to just pray the gay away?!” you yelled at her, but she was calm. She said that was not her intentions, but rather they were to simply have you come see everyone you grew up around. She said that there was a new pastor there who was younger and could relate better to youth without that kind of feigned wise judgment that the other pastor, a wobbly old man, used.

You fought tooth and nail against your mom in a thirty-minute argument until finally you were just too tired to fight against her anymore. You felt how you did in high school—getting lectured by your mom for skipping church only a single Sunday, being placed under her godly ray of obstinance that so easily drained you until you just couldn’t fight anymore. She forced you to wear one of your church dresses from high school and practically shoved you into the car that Sunday morning. You were just looking forward to the potluck afterward.

As your mom pulled the car into the church’s parking lot, you realized that they had done renovations on the sanctuary since you had been gone. It was bigger now, with huge mosaic windows facing the front and a new pure white cross on top of the spire, making the triangular building look even taller and more pointed than it already was.

“This new pastor a millionaire or something?” you mumbled as you unbuckled your seatbelt.

“No, she’s just so brilliant and amazing that she’s attracted dozens of new parishioners since she came,” she explained. “You’ll see. She really has a way of connecting with young people, especially young women. I couldn’t tell you how many girls your age have joined in the past year!”

Crinkling your eyebrows, you stepped out of the car and took a breath of fresh air. Even in the parking lot, you could pick up that familiar smell of wood and old books. “The pastor is a woman?” you asked, remembering only male pastors. Although your denomination was open towards female pastors, the general misogyny of your small-town Southern community had always favored men, of course.

“Uh huh,” your mother said as she stepped out of the car and fixed her hair in the wind, walking over to you and gently grabbing your arm suddenly. “Y/n, I should probably let you know… I did call Reverend Maximoff last night and told her a little about your…situation.”

Your eyes widened as you stared at her incredulously. “What?!” Had your mother really gone and called the local pastor to tell her that her daughter was gay?

“Look, it’s important for a pastor to know their parishioners’ personal lives in order to truly connect with them. I’m not saying I asked her to… pray the gay away or whatever you said, but I just let her know that you were having some…sexually immoral feelings. She’s helped many young women here with the same problem.”

“Excuse me?!” you exclaimed, jerking your arm away from your hand. An old couple walking by glanced over at you, and you blushed and looked away, speaking quieter. “Why the hell would you tell some woman I don’t even know that I’m having sex with women?!”

“She’s not some woman, she’s an ordained minister of God!” your mother exclaimed. “She’s not going to drag you up in front of the church and hang you, for God’s sake! She was just concerned that you’re not living your life under the guidance of God and would be happy to give you a steering hand, that’s all! She didn’t even say anything about the gay part—just the promiscuity!”

Curse words formed on your lips, but you pursed them together, pushing past your mother and towards the church so you could get this thing over with. “Promiscuity my ass,” you muttered as you burst open the church doors, hit with that familiar old smell. It looked different now that it had been renovated, the ceiling and windows much taller and the carpet redone, but it was the same wooden pews you remembered as a child and the same large altar with a grand piano and steps for the choir.

You looked around at all the familiar townspeople sitting in the pews as the choir, dressed in their robes and holding their hymnals, made their way to the chancel in formation. You realized that your mother was right when she said that the church had grown—all of the pews were jammed full of people, except for a little spot near the front where there was enough room for two people to squeeze in. Feeling aggravated and brash, you stormed to the front and shimmied past the row of people to sit down in the empty spot, your mother scrambling down beside you.

“Please don’t be angry in the house of God,” she began.

You ignored her, looking around and seeing that there were groups of young women your age looking excitedly towards the altar, waiting for the pastor to come out. You assumed maybe the pastor had started a women’s group and was just mentoring the young women.

Reaching forward, you took the hymnal book sitting in the slot behind the pew in front of you, opening up its yellowed pages and flipping through. You could still remember some of the songs, but before you could read one, there was a hushing whisper among the congregation.

Glancing upwards, you saw Reverend Maximoff emanating from behind the altar, glancing out among the ground with a smile as she stepped to the front. You were shocked to see her—she was older than you, but not by too much. She had a youthful smile to her face and twinkling green eyes, her blonde hair cut right to the shoulders of the maroon robe and dark green stole she wore.

“Good morning, everyone,” she announced, her voice loud and confident. The church crowd silenced and gave their full attention to her. “Today we will start by worshiping the Lord our God with our choir’s beautiful voices, as well as your own.” Her Southern accent was feminine and airy with a cheerful tune to it, as if she was already singing by simply speaking. “Please turn to page 304 in your hymnals and stand to worship the Lord with us.”

The sound of people standing and pages turning filled your ears, and you found yourself flipping to the page and standing up along with everyone else, realizing that your muscle memory was still there. It felt odd being in that place again, viewing the solemnity and respect of religion in a community sense.

The choir started, and then the rest of the church joined in, singing the hymn in unison. You didn’t sing at first, until your mother’s elbow stabbed your ribcage, so you quietly mumbled the words.

Glancing up, you watched Reverend Maximoff singing at her stand, face turned towards the choir and grinning at them as the words formed on her lips. You had to admit that for a pastor, she was beautiful and charming. Her smile was nearly mesmerizing as her head slowly turned towards the congregation in appreciation for their singing, eyes casting over the pews of people until they flickered near you. Realizing that you were staring, you quickly glanced down at the book before she could make eye contact with you. Feeling suddenly nervous, you mindlessly stared at the book until you figured she would be looking somewhere else, looking back up only to find that she was looking right at you.

All you could hear were the choral praises of God as the Reverend’s eyes bore into yours. The smile on her face faded a little, her focus zoning in on you through the crowd. You remembered what your mother had told her about you, the thought bringing a sickly blush of shame to your cheeks. Why was she staring at you? Was she judging you? Thinking about what a dirty sinner you were? You couldn’t take it, but you couldn’t look away either.

Finally, the song ended, and she broke eye contact.

“Thank you so much. You may please be seated.”

The crowd sat down and put their hymnals away as the choir did the same, and once everyone was finally still and quiet, the Reverend opened her Bible and started flipping through pages to find notes for her sermon.

“Today, people, we will be talking about the one thing we think about almost all of the time—our bodies.” Your teeth ached as you braced yourself for whatever religious bullshit was about to be shoved down your throat. “Our bodies—whether it be our health, our appearance, the work we can do with them, what we eat, what we drink—our bodies remain a constant thought in our mind.”

She stepped out from behind the stand, walking to the front steps of the altar and peering out at the crowd with her luring eyes like a bird.

“God tells us in His Word that our bodies are a temple for the Holy Spirit. You see, we do not own our flesh and blood. Our body is a sacrament to Him in everything we do with it. Our divine purpose on this Earth is to use our bodies the Lord has given us as a vessel for the Spirit, to spread His Holy Word. If our bodies are unholy, or if we use them to transgress against His Word, we are violating His purpose for them.”

As much as you wanted to dissociate and just block out whatever she was saying, a strange curiosity overcame you that kept your eyes trained on her as she stepped down the altar steps to get even closer to the crowd, holding the Bible in her hands.

“There are many ways that we sin with our bodies every day. When your mouth curses, when your hands do not pray to Him, when your feet lead you to unholy places. One of the most extreme ways that we go against the Holy Spirit within us is when we commit the very sin that seems to have a grasp on the youth today—sexual immorality.”

There it was. You bit the inside of your cheek and took a deep breath, trying to control the anger within you.

“I want y’all to turn to one of my favorite passages in the Word,” she said, turning to walk towards the other side of the pew as she waited for people to turn to the verse. “1 Corinthians 6:13.”

You wouldn’t dare to pick up a Bible. You crossed your arms and ignored your mother’s urging glances as the Reverend started to read.

“You say, food for the stomach and the stomach for the food, and God will destroy them both. The body, however, is not meant for sexual immorality but for the Lord, and the Lord for the body,” she called out, her voice echoing off the walls of the large room. You watched her, her back turned from you, as she paced the other side of the room before turning, walking towards your side of the pew with her eyes trained on the book. “By his power God raised the Lord from the dead, and he will raise us also. Do you not know that your bodies are members of Christ himself? Shall I then take the members of Christ and unite them with a prostitute? Never!”

You rolled your eyes and rubbed your forehead, wishing you could escape this cultish experience. Still, you watched her, the way her lips formed the words, the way her face looked pointed down to the book, eyelashes dancing across her cheeks as she read the words.

“But whoever is united with the Lord is one with him in spirit.” She turned down the center aisle, and as she got closer to your pew, you started to shift uncomfortably in your seat. Suddenly, her eyes lifted from the pages and pierced you sideways. You felt frozen under her stare as she discreetly eyed you, not even having to look at the page to recite, “Flee from sexual immorality. All other sins a person commits are outside the body, but whoever sins sexually, sins against their own body.”

Her voice was lower now, serious and clear. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from hers as she slowly floated past you, her robe wafting around her ankles. You noticed the way her svelte hands held the Bible, a single digit lifting to flick the page. You could’ve sworn you saw a smirk on her lips as she finally looked away from you and kept preaching, walking down the aisle.

Finally, you could breathe. Surprise filled you as you realized that you had started sweating—were you really so demonic that you were sweating in the pews of a church? But why did she look right at you as she read that particular verse? Was she targeting you because of what your mother had said?

You could barely listen to the rest of the sermon as she talked about sexual immorality and fleeing from it by turning your mind and body towards the Lord.

At the potluck, you couldn’t help but find your eyes drifting to wherever Reverend Maximoff was in the room. Potlucks were always held in a building connected to the sanctuary where they had special events and meetings. She drifted around the room chatting with different members of the congregation, her eyes somehow always finding yours right as you were looking at her. You would blush and quickly look away, redirecting your focus on what the old lady was talking to you and your mom about.

You didn’t realize that she was waiting for you to be alone. Finally, you left your mom and the lady to go to the table filled with homemade desserts, browsing around for something chocolate.

A hand on your lower back made you gasp and turn. You were shocked to see Reverend Maximoff standing close beside you, still dressed in her robes. “Y/n,” she greeted you with a pearly smile, her earrings dangling from her ears. “It’s so nice to finally meet you. Your mom has talked about you so much since I’ve been here.”

“Oh,” you said with a polite smile. “Has she?”

“Yes,” she smoothly answered, stepping even closer to you. “I’m very glad you came today. I must tell you that the Lord has speaking to my heart about you quite a lot.”

“Oh yea?” you said disinterestedly, more focused on the way her eyes kept darting down your body, trying to pinpoint why she was ogling you.

She tilted her head and closed her smile, looking thoughtful for a brief moment before saying, “You know, I was hoping you would have a session with me here sometime, before you go back to college. I would love to talk more with you and get to know you. You were at this church long before I was, and I would love to give you some heavenly advice on whatever is pressing at your heart.”

Your eyebrows rose. “Nothing’s pressing at my heart but my ribcage.”

She giggled, and it surprised you. “No, there’s always something for pretty young women like you.” You flushed a little at her choice of words. “God has a plan for you, y/n, but I get the feeling you may need some guidance to get you there.”

“You get these feelings a lot?” you droned, picking up a brownie from the table and taking a bite, keeping eye contact with her. You weren’t going to let this pastor try to get her godly claws in you.

Her eyes flickered to your mouth as you took a bite of the brownie, her irises darkening. “Come see me after the Wednesday night sermon. Maybe…” She reached forward and took the half-eaten brownie from your hand, her fingers grazing yours. “I can teach you to use your mouth to praise the Lord.”

She put the half of the brownie into her mouth and chewed it with a smirk. Frozen and confused, you stared at her as she put her thumb in her mouth to suck off the crumbs, winking and floating away from you. Your entire body went hot as her words folded over in your mind, as well as the sight of her eating the brownie you had just had between your teeth.

Normally, you would’ve declined any invitation to have personal sessions with a Reverend, but the brief interaction you had with Reverend Maximoff had you offput and curious. Your mother almost cried in relief when you told her that you would be going to the Wednesday night sermon as well as staying behind to speak with the Reverend.

Wednesday’s sermon went the same as Sunday’s. There were less people there that night, naturally, and although Wednesday night sermons were usually shorter than Sunday’s, it seemed like Reverend Maximoff was antsy to be finished with it. She spoke faster with less focus, ending the sermon after only an hour. Your mother excitedly hurried away with the rest of the congregation, and you anxiously stayed in the pew as the Reverend talked with some lingering people until finally she ushered them all out, closing and locking the church doors behind the last person.

You turned your head and watched her as she sighed, holding onto the doors for a moment before turning around to look at you, clasping her hands at her front.

“Y/n,” she began lowly, turning her face down slightly as her eyes trained on you, her feet slowly leading her up the aisle towards you. “I was so glad when I saw you here tonight.”

“Well,” you began, fiddling with your thumbs. “I didn’t have anything else to do tonight.”

It was only partially true. You could have caught up with your old friends or went out to dinner or even just stayed home and watched TV, but something lured you into that church that night, and you felt it had something to do with the way she predatorily eyed you as she neared you.

She said nothing as she came closer, sucking her cheeks as you could see words forming in her brain. “Keep watch over yourselves and all the flock of which the Holy Spirit has made you overseers. Be shepherds of the church of God, which he bought with his own blood.” A smirk drew itself on her lips. “Acts 20:28.”

You just raised your eyebrows and nodded impressively. “You have the Bible memorized. Good for you.”

Ignoring your sly comment, she spoke, “It means that, as the Reverend of this church, it is my duty to be a shepherd.”

“That is what the verse says.”

Her eyes narrowed at you, her lips parted at distaste of your attitude. “What did I tell you about your mouth?” she snapped, her voice edged and cutting as it echoed loudly off the walls of the church, reminding you how alone you were with her. You stiffened in the pew.

She neared you, resting a hand on the edge of the pew as she stood before you. “As a shepherd, I must keep watch of my flock. I must be aware of them all the time—their lives, feelings, behaviors, their walk with God.” She paused, her tongue settling over her lower lip as she tilted her head. “Tell me, what path do you walk?”

You blinked, lips opening and closing as you tried to understand what she was asking.

“Do you walk the ways of the wicked? The ways of Satan himself?” Without breaking eye contact, she lowered and sat on the pew beside you. “Does your body sin against the Spirit?”

Looking down, you shook your head and laughed. “I know my mom told you. Believe me when I say I have no inclination to your religion, and I never will. I don’t need to be scrutinized or judged.”

“Your mother was only acting as a shepherd by leading you to me, and I thank her for that,” she remarked, her eyes glancing down at your dress where the ends stopped at your mid-thigh, leaving your legs bare. “I fear you are not treating your body as the temple of God it is. You have tainted it with your sexual proclivities, haven’t you, y/n?”

Your face started to burn at her outright words. “Excuse me?”

“Tell me, how do you prefer to use your body? Like a whore? Like a destitute slut?”

Ears burning at the sound of her husky voice, your face burned even hotter. The shock of her words left you speechless and utterly confused as to how a Reverend would speak to someone that way.

“You can tell me, y/n. Only God is watching us.” She reached forward suddenly, placing her hand on your thigh and sliding it upwards. The touch startled you and made you jump to your feet.

She looked up at you with a twisted smirk as you started to tremble with nervousness. “What kind of a Reverend are you?”

“One who will do anything to guide her people to God,” she lilted, standing up and reaching for you again. You backed away, bumping into the wooden back of the pew and circling around it to get away from her. You jumped up the steps of the altar.

“What are you doing?!”

“So Christ himself gave the apostles,” she began in her pastor voice she used during the sermon, circling the pew to saunter towards you again, stalking like a predator, “the prophets, the evangelists, the pastors and teachers, to equip his people for works of service, so that the body of Christ may be built up.” She took a slow step up the altar, grinning devilishly. “Ephesians 4:11-12.” She lowered her chin. “I can help you restore your body’s temple. I can sanctify you, make you whole again in the eyes of the Lord.”

Your heartbeat fluttered at the way she was seductively eyeing you, sauntering up the steps, the sultry and sensual tone in her voice. You let her come near you and place a hand on your waist that made you shiver all over.

Whispering, she said, “As God’s apostle, I offer you a direct line to worship Him and beg for forgiveness.” Her other hand softly cupped your chin, feeling the blushing skin here. Her thumb grazed over your lower lip, her dilated eyes drinking up your mouth like thick wine, and she recited, “May my prayer be set before you like incense; may the lifting up of my hands be like the evening sacrifice.”

The verse burned in your ears—it was one you had memorized for Sunday school so many years ago and somehow still subconsciously remembered. You whispered, “Psalms 141:2.”

Her grin widened. “Good girl.” She licked her lips, thumb still grazing your own. “From the fruit of their mouth a person’s stomach is filled; with the harvest of their lips they are satisfied. The tongue has the power of life and death, and those who love it will eat its fruit. Proverbs 18:20-21.”

It became hard to breathe when two of her fingers slipped through your lips and sunk slowly over your tongue.

“What goes into someone’s mouth does not defile them, but what comes out of their mouth, that is what defiles them. Matthew 15:11,” she recited, her own lips parting in a sigh as she slid her fingers further into your mouth.

A soft noise escaped your throat as you let her feel your mouth, your legs becoming weak. Her grip on your waist tightened when you flicked your tongue between her fingers and closed your lips, sucking dutifully on them. She jutted her lower teeth in desire, stepping so close to you that there was no room to breathe. Your skin felt hot all over, and you became suddenly aware of the cross hanging at the front of the altar, as if it were burning into your back.

The Reverend licked the back of her teeth, eyes trained on her fingers disappearing into your mouth as she whispered, “Shall you use your tongue to praise the Lord our God?”

A dirty sucking sound escaped your mouth as you sucked her fingers, and you were so under her trance, her beautiful green eyes, the way she was so enamored with your mouth, that you eagerly nodded around her fingers.

A half smile curled on her open lips as she slid her fingers out of your mouth, placing a hand on your shoulder and harshly pushing you down. Your knees hit the velvet red steps of the altar as Reverend Maximoff, standing on the step below you, placed one leg on the upper step and started to lift up her robe. You kneeled, watching in all of God’s glory, with the church’s mosaic windows behind her, as the Reverend lifted up her maroon robes and bunched them with one hand at her hips, exposing her bare pussy. With one foot on the step below your knees, and the other foot beside your knees, she tilted open her thigh and placed a hand on the back of your head.

You shivered at the feeling of her fingers in your hair as she pushed your head towards her, bucking her hips. You were filled with pulsing desire as you placed your hands gently on her hips and let her draw your mouth towards her, opening your lips and finding her slick folds. Your tongue ran over her slit, and you moaned at her taste, at how she was so wet that her juices already covered your lips.

Reverend Maximoff sighed, leaning her head back as you found her clit and started to lap at it. “Oh, God!” she exclaimed, pushing her hips towards your face as you suckled on her clit.

You could hardly keep up with her as she pushed your head and bucked her hips at the same time, forcing her clit onto your tongue. Your mouth involuntarily closed when one particular thrust of your head was too rough, to which she snapped, “Open your mouth! Proverbs 31:26—She speaks with wisdom, and faithful instruction is on her tongue.” Her sentence ended with a piercing moan as you opened your mouth wider for her and let her fuck it as she pleased.

Whining from the force, you furiously tried to pleasure her—as much as you could with the way she was practically pleasuring herself with your mouth like it was a toy. You melted at the sounds of her moans and gasps that echoed in the church, at the way that you were kneeling on the altar with your head between her legs, at the way her hand was tangled in your hair. Her clit tangibly throbbed on your tongue as her hips thrusted harder, her moans rising in pitch.

“Oh, God! Oh, God!” she screamed as she came, grinding her clit against your tongue and grabbing your hair so hard that your scalp ached. You struggled to breathe, eyes tearing up from the pressure on your face, listening to her catch her breath and loosen her grip on your hair. Finally, she moved away from you, dropping her robe back down her ankles. You were panting, lips puffy and red and covered in her wetness, eyes glistening as you stared up at her, drunk with lust. She grinned, biting her lip. “You serve the Lord well. Come.”

She offered out her hands, and you took them, letting her help you to her feet and guide you to the front pew. She sat down, keeping hold of your hands, and pulled you down so you straddled her lap. She sighed, her eyes looking everywhere at you except your face.

Her fingers crawled to the straps of your dress, slowly tugging them down your bare shoulders. She recited, “How beautiful you are and how pleasing, my love, with your delights.” Her voice was quiet in the silent room, burning at your ears as you tried to stay focused with the taste of her still on your lips. Her eyes sunk down your chest as she started to pull the dress down your breasts. “I said, I will climb the palm tree; I will take hold of its fruit.”

She tugged the fabric of your dress over your breasts, exposing them as they bounced over the fabric. Taking a sharp breath, she drew one hand to your tit and squeezed the soft flesh there, earning a gasp from you.

“May your breasts be like clusters of grapes on the vine, the fragrance of your breath like apples, and your mouth like the best wine.” Her eyes, which were trained on your exposed chest in front of her, flickered up to your face, catching the gloss of her cum on her lips. She raised her other hand and spread her fingers over your lips, smearing the wetness across your mouth. “May the wine go straight to my beloved, flowing gently over lips and teeth.”

You started to throb at her touches, at her words, at her inebriated eyes. Her hand that groped your breast fell down to your thighs, urging the end of your dress upwards as it slid up your skin.

“Song of Songs 7:6-9,” she whispered with finality as she danced her fingers up your inner thigh, and you watched her hand disappear under your skirt. “Is your body a temple of God, y/n?” she asked you as she parted your panties with her fingers.

You nodded desperately, so turned on by what she had done to your mouth, so dumbed down by the verses and the touches and the taste of her. She bit her lip and moaned as her fingers touched your slick cunt, grazing over your clit before two of them sunk into your hole.

Head falling back, you grabbed at the shoulders of her robe and whined as she plunged her fingers inside you, your wetness already making a dirty squelching noise as she pumped inside of you.

“I’m not so sure it is,” she husked as she wrapped an arm around your hip to steady your bucking motions. “You’ve been a dirty girl, y/n. You’ve used your body to sin against His Word. My hand of God can only do so much—you need to beg for his forgiveness.” An evil smirk lined her lips.

You could barely hear what she was saying as she fucked her fingers into you, your hips moving up and down in desperate search for more of her. She thumbed at your clit as she waited for you to answer, leaning forward to press wet kisses on your nipples that bounced with your motions.

“Please, God,” you began shakily, “Forgive me.”

“That’s not good enough,” she tutted, suddenly pushing a third finger inside you. Your mouth fell open at the stretch and the burst of sensations that exploded when she curled her fingers inside you. “Beg Him. Beg Him to forgive you for being a dirty whore.”

“Ah!” you exclaimed when she bit your nipple, jamming her fingers into you harshly. “P-Please, God,” you began breathlessly, squeezing the Reverend’s shoulders as pressure built inside you. “Please forgive me.”

“Forgive you for?” she urged, biting your other nipple and sucking on it.

You tried to remember exactly what she had said as your orgasm threatened to impend upon you. “F-For, for being a dirty whore!” The sound of your own voice saying those words pushed you over the edge, your inner walls clenching around the Reverend’s fingers. Your hips rocked hard against her hand as she watched in pure desire and delight, grinning when you finally came down from your climax.

“Very good, my child,” she soothed as you panted, her fingers still inside you. You trembled on her lap, seeing that your wetness had dripped onto her hand and down her maroon robe. “The Lord our God is a merciful one. He forgives you.” She played with the end of your dress, moving her fingers inside you and seeing just what a mess she had made of you. She looked up at your beat red face and teary eyes, her eyes alight with an idea. “Have you ever been baptized?”

[thecrustiestpurp]

Genius writing of Pavitr Prabhakar

They made an ass of a spiderman in theory yet he's my favourite out of all of them and naturally I'm thinking why.

Ignoring the aesthetic aspects like his sick design and his distinctive web slinging style. I think it's most interesting how they do this through the writing, the way they tackle his fatal flaw, his fat ego and blind optimism by creating a really sharp interval logic and communicating this within the space of 15 minutes.

We understand that his big ego is all earnest and out of naivite rather than him putting down others. He just so happens to be the best and perfect, and therefore everything is great for him. He was given a blessing at a very young age to be a spider and he happens to be good at it of course he's going to be prideful how can it not be. And why would he not gloat, he's a perfect guy perfect grades perfect hair and he knows that makes him special. Especially considering the rest of the Spider-Verse, having a perfect one like Pavitr is unexpected so we're at least intrigued by him.

But why do we like him despite characters with perfect lives and a big ego typically being frustrated. Using his humour the writers made his introduction it as playful as possible so we laugh at how him you know. One of the first things he says is "being Spiderman is so easy" and knowing he's been at it for 6 months it's super funny. He's also relatable, the successes he points out, skipping working out because he has a perfect body, having a girlfriend her parents don't know about, doing well in school are all things that are relatable to us especially if you're Indian, it feels like a real student who's living their best like. Also playfulness is maintained when they go to unglitch spots thing the collider scene, he treating it with even less seriousness "just another easy day of being spiderman" he says and is subsequently blown up - it's funny. We also can't get annoyed during that scene really being invasive to Miles' attempts and channelling the electricity so he's not being frustrating to us or to Miles, just a little naive. We can get humour from it but we also understand this as a flaw too because of the dramatic irony, we're hinting that he's not supposed to think this way.

They also give him the nice internal logic making his mindset sympathetic by testing it within the movie. In the saving India scene, what's most notable is the line "I can do both" turning his idealism into tragedy when he's faced between saving his girlfriend and saving his girlfriends dad. The surrounding microelements and whatnot making the atmosphere feel dire which contributes to the tragedy. But it's that were seeing the life that he easily lives turning on its head. His mentality given definition as a this it will work out so long as I do it, a noble origin for his confidence. Though he knows he's special but he doesn't think he's any more valuable. "do both" showing no real bias towards to what directly affects him - he can empathise with his girlfriend and recognise loosing her and her dad would be devastating. He's not egotistical like thinking he's better than others, he's empathetic and values the people he saves as well as the people they value. The words "do both" colours his saving as this as being an overexertion, he's unaware of what he can't do solidifying his perspective of viewing this as easy coming from a place of naivite. Additionally he has to be the one to save people - "I can do both" - and this is why being Spider-Man is easy for him, it has to be. This all makes him more understandable and the fact this is clearly failing him and tragically makes him sympathetic. Moreover, we care about the love for his girlfriend and for his people because it was fun hearing him explain it earlier so its even more sympathetic that he's loosing what he loves. I think this also stops being a careful what you wish for where we could reproach him because of the scenery we understand him to have.

It seems more he does everything because he's so loving, and he just so happens to be blessed and stuff. Which is super enjoyable to watch! and this burst of characterisation happens in like 20 minutes so like wowowowoowwwowoowowowowow

Anyway, this isn't the greatest most insightful analysis but I just had to ramble about my favourite boy!!

[many-but-one]

I’m not going to lie, I am extremely frustrated with this new round of syscourse specifically targeted toward RAMCOA (and especially RA/MC) survivors using the RAMCOA acronym.

I’m only mildly versed in our history, and upon seeing information from both sides of the coin, am realizing that while I know a decent amount about what the False Memory Foundation has done, I know little about the Grey Faction, who is the likely spearhead of this entire thing. It’s something that happens every so often, apparently. They’ve been trying to make RAMCOA disappear for a while now. One of my moots I won’t name so they don’t get targeted harassment too talked about it and I’m realizing that I fucking fell for it.

I think what annoys me most is that they preyed on my desire to make sure nobody in the community felt harmed, specifically a minority group in the community who has faced centuries of hardship. On top of that, being called an antisemite hit us hard, as many of our abusers were openly Nazis. Like, wearing SS uniforms type shit. Fucking WWII cosplaying ass motherfuckers. So to be compared to them on top of appealing hard to my (limited) empathy for others, it created a perfect storm of panic to do my best to make the situation right. It worked. I hate it. They put me in a corner and I didn’t know what else to do but concede. Seeing as the main person speaking the loudest on this is a non-therapist non-dissociative-expert singlet should really speak more volumes than people are willing to acknowledge.

This pisses me off. I wish our community could be left alone to heal in peace for once.

Edit: SAS explains this far better than I ever could.

[muna-lesbians]

March 21, 2020 - British GQ

It's Sunday morning when I speak to MUNA down the line from LA. Lead guitarist Josette Maskin is drinking coffee in sweats on her sofa, while vocalist Katie Gavin is on her way to a composting workshop at a local library – possibly the most LA thing I’ve ever heard. In other words, they’re kicking it.

But that’s fair enough. 2019 was a big year for the electronic pop trio: they released their vibrant second album, Saves the World, and embarked on a 17-date tour of North America, plus two triumphant London shows at a packed Village Underground. ‘We’re not from London, but it felt like a homecoming, because London as a city has seen us grow so much as a band,’ says Gavin. ‘Everyone in the crowd was singing every verse.’

All of the members of MUNA are queer, an integral facet of the band’s DNA. After the Pulse nightclub shooting in Orlando, their soaring track I Know a Place became an unofficial anthem of resistance for the LGBTQ community, sung at vigils by grieving fans. ‘We didn’t write the song for it to be a way to remember the people who died,’ says Gavin, ‘but the fact that’s what it’s been used for is an honour I don’t think we could have imagined.’ Although at first MUNA were wary of being labelled a ‘queer pop group’, they’ve leaned into it. ‘A lot of our story has been about learning to accept the responsibility,’ says Gavin. ‘We love our community and want to be put to use.’

To be silent in the age of Trump would have felt like complicity. ‘We do live in hell, to be frank,’ says synth player and guitarist Naomi McPherson of the president. They regretted not making a political statement ahead of their appearance on Jimmy Kimmel Live! in 2016. When the opportunity to perform on the late-night institution came around again a year later, Gavin wrote an extra verse for I Know a Place, with the lyrics ‘He’s not my leader, even if he’s the president’. The verse has become a fan favourite, bellowed by US crowds in defiance of the racist, sexist Trump. ‘We do the extra verse when the spirit strikes us,’ explains Maskin. ‘For when it feels right.’

Being a political band in the era of Trump is a heavy mantle to bear. Although MUNA don’t plan to stop engaging politically, ‘We want to make music about pleasure and fun also, in opposition to the constant news cycle and oppression we feel,’ says McPherson. Besides, writing music about queer love and desire is an inherently political act. ‘Right now we’re writing straight-up sexy songs,’ says Gavin of the band’s ongoing studio time, ‘but the fact they’re about the relationships we engage in, and to be a queer woman openly singing about desire, is political. It doesn’t matter what we write, everything we do is political and personal at the same time.’

I ask MUNA whether they feel queerness has been appropriated to shift product, in the same way big brands bastardised feminism to hock scented candles and self-care bath foam. ‘I feel like any radical movement is at risk of being commodified and sold back to us,’ says McPherson. ‘That’s been happening for years since Pride became a corporate event. They put Che [Guevara] on T-shirts!’ But MUNA feel that, on balance, any representation is better than none. ‘Visibility is important,’ Maskin adds. ‘It can mean a lot to some kid somewhere to see queer people represented.’

Speaking to MUNA, it’s clear they’re genuinely good friends. They formed in high school (not at a college party, as is often reported). “We’re definitely homies,” McPherson says with a laugh. ‘Jo and I live together, so we spend every waking minute in each other’s presence.’ They recently went roller-skating for Gavin’s birthday: she’s a good skater, the others less so. That strong base helped MUNA when they were coming up in the industry. ‘We’ve always had the privilege of having each other as protectors,’ says Maskin. Having creative control is of paramount importance – they stand in opposition to the high-polish, PR-workshopped pop bands dominating the charts on any given day. ‘We wouldn’t have been able to exist as a band unless we were the ones controlling and making what we do,’ Maskin says.

When the band toured with Harry Styles in 2017, they saw up close the effects of international celebrity on an individual. ‘When we first met, I felt a lot of concern for him,’ says Maskin. ‘It’s such a crazy life he lives. But he takes it in his stride – he’s such a nice person and really cares about his fans. That level of fame is insane and unfathomable!’ But as MUNA continue to carve out a special place in the hearts of their fans, queer or otherwise, global fame looks set to be coming for them, whether they like it or not.

[princesssarisa]

I've been thinking about The Swan Princess. I haven't seen the entire series, but the original movie was a childhood favorite of mine.

I've been thinking of some ways the movie could have been better.

First and foremost, the issue of "What else is there?" How to offend women in 5 syllables or less keep the plot point of Prince Derek saying those words when Odette asks him if he loves her for more than just her beauty, yet without making so many audience members permanently hate him for it.

I actually wrote two entries on the Fridge Brilliance page on TV Tropes about this plot point. (1) This is a fairy tale, and in most classic fairy tales, love is just a matter of beauty, so that's what Derek expects. (2) There are hints throughout the song "This Is My Idea" that young Derek and Odette like each other long before they admit it to themselves. Adult Derek thinks at first that he fell instantly in love with Odette when he saw she had grown beautiful, but by the end he realizes he loved her long beforehand, for who she is as a person.

But maybe those things should have been made more explicit.

I personally would have made the movie more explicitly a deconstruction of classic fairy tale romances with their beauty-based Love at First Sight, more in the vein of later movies like Frozen. I would add some dialogue either before or between the verses of "This Is My Idea" showing Queen Uberta (bubbly romantic that she is) reading a classic Love at First Sight fairy tale to young Derek, and telling him that someday, when they're grown up, Odette will be beautiful and a single glance will make him love her. I might also add some dialogue for adult Derek later in the song, where he complains about having to marry Odette and imagines his preferred scenario – riding through the woods one day, suddenly encountering a beautiful dancing maiden, and knowing instantly that she's the one (a la Disney's Sleeping Beauty, or the original Swan Lake). This would show that he believes in classic fairy tale romance. Thus when "What else is there?" eventually happens, the audience's impression won't be "Derek is a shallow jerk who only values women for their looks" but "Derek has been raised with a fairy tale concept of love as something you feel just because the other person is beautiful."

Later, the ball scenes and "Princesses On Parade" would make it clear that Uberta is again trying to force the fairy tale concept of love on her son, hoping for a Cinderella-style Love at First Sight at the ball. But of course it doesn't work, not only because he's faithful to Odette, but because Love at First Sight isn't real.

I would also add some scenes throughout the movie where Odette and Derek each reminisce about their shared childhood. Odette could tell her three animal sidekicks about it, while Derek could recall it with Bromley and Rogers. This would help to avert the problem some critics find with the movie as it is: that Odette and Derek seem like different people as adults than as children and are much blander than their feisty child selves. It would also show us explicitly that they did like each other long before they knew it. We would see flashbacks to their childhood fights and pranks, and their adult selves would laugh wistfully and make remarks like "I wouldn't admit it to myself, but I enjoyed all that" and "We were never really enemies, we were just too stubborn and foolish to admit that we were friends."

Around the same time, I would also have Odette say a word or two about "What else is there?" to her animal friends, to explain why she's fully committed to Derek again despite having broken off their betrothal earlier. (Of course the cynical view would be that she only forgives Derek because she wants him to break her spell, but this movie isn't supposed to be cynical.) She would say something like "I shouldn't have left him. I know in my heart that he truly loves me, he just couldn't put it into words."

Going back to the childhood scenes, I would also find some way during "This Is My Idea" for young Odette to show her kindness. If at the end of the movie, Derek is going to say that he loves Odette for her kindness, then we should see her display it in front of him. I might show her finding and caring for a small animal in need – e.g. a stray kitten, or an injured bird – and young Derek would act nauseated by the sappiness of it all. But later, when Odette wasn't around, we'd see him find another lost or injured animal and care for it just like she did, showing that her kindness has rubbed off on him.

In his ultimate love confession, I would also have Derek say that he loves Odette's "cleverness" as well as her kindness and courage. That would reinforce the point that he fell subconsciously in love with her during their battles of will and wits in their childhood.

I think these tweaks would bring more consistency and depth to the love story and ensure viewers' sympathy for both of the two leads.

[angelynmoon]

Eldritch Steve verse

Part 10

So, apparently A03 is down and I had nothing better to do, so I wrote this, I'll post it to Ao3 either tomorrow or when it's back up if it takes more than a day.

Thank you for all your ideas for a title, I haven't actually chosen one but you've gotten me thinking so thank you, (a little part of me wants to name it 'From the rot', I don't even really know why).

-

"...and that difference was my undoing, it was the undoing of my kind as well, they just didn't know it yet." Steve began.

And Eddie listened, quietly, he listened intently because this was Steve's story, the journey into who he was now, and Eddie had always been curious about who Steve was before he came into their world.

Not enough to ask, no, he'd seen the way Steve looked away when Jonathan asked about others, when Nancy questioned if they should be worried about others like Steve.

And Eddie felt his heart break when Steve mentioned spawning, when he'd explained what that was.

And he felt the tears in his eyes escape when Steve described coming home and finding the broken shells, the remains of his raveged children and the anger that had filled him.

Eddie didn't blame him, he'd be angry if anything happened to the Party, to El and Erica and Max, he didn't know what he'd do if someone killed them, didn't want to find out.

"I sat there for what must have been days, watching the remains of my babies rot and then I buried them as deep into the ground as I could." Steve spoke softly, an otherworldly grief in his voice.

And Eddie expected him to say that he'd sought out a way into their world, snuck through a crack or hole and ran from his anger and grief.

What he did not expect was what Steve told him next.

"I tracked the scent of the one that took my spawn, and I tore it apart, piece by piece until nothing was left but scraps and blood. And I stood there and I knew that I could never safely spawn, not while my kind lived." Steve looked to the window, to the tree that scraped at the glass, "And I knew that I'd be hunted for what I'd done, not the killing of a fellow, but that I left it to rot."

Eddie frowned wondering why that would be the problem, Steve seemed to understand and explained.

"My kind, they aren't like humans, it's survival of the strongest, and we'd eat the weaker of our kind, to gain their strength, their rage , that I didn't eat the one I killed was the wrost sort of insult I could give, they'd hunt me for that alone, but as far as the others were concerned I'd attacked unprovoked, for no reason since I wasn't eating.

"So I let my rage and anger have me, let it guide me in my slaughter, thinking of my spawn broken and killed before they had the chance at life.

"When that rage, that anger finally faded into the sorrow it was covering I was..." Steve looked at Eddie, tears in all those thousands of eyes, "I was alone, the rest of my kind were dead and left to rot throughout the Down Below, their blood poisoned the rivers and the fumes from their rotting flesh poisoned the air. I made the Down Below the wasteland it is now, because I would not feed on those that killed my babies, because it was worse for me to leave them where the fell once I'd killed them."

Steve looked away from Eddie, "You say I'm not a monster, but you're wrong, I am, my reasons for doing it don't change the fact that I commited a genocide, that I am one of two, that neither of us will spawn together or alone, our kind, if we breed at all, will eventually be diluted with each generation, until it is nothing but strange quirks appearing now and again."

Eddie stared, it was a lot of information but it didn't change Eddie's feelings, grief did strange things to everyone, Wayne, when Eddie's mother died had spent days wandering the woods, always retuning covered in blood that Eddie could only hope wasn't human. Eddie had seen him digging holes in the far side of the trailer park to bury something but he'd never been brave enough to ask or to go digging later. And Eddie's mother wasn't related to Wayne, Wayne was Eddie's father's brother not his mother's.

But knowing what Steve had done didn't change anything, not for Eddie at least, his heart was Steve's for as long as Steve wanted it, even when Steve stopped wanting it, Eddie's heart would still be Steve's until it stilled, this changed nothing, except...

"Wait, does that mean you and me could have biological children?" Eddie asked, because he had no filter.

Steve looked at him with a from, "You don't hate me?"

"I could never." Eddie said as he pulled Steve into his arms and let him relax into him.

They stayed that way for minutes or hours, at some point moving to lay down on the bed, before Eddie's curiosity needed to be satisfied.

"You never answered me, can you have my babies, because I certainly don't have the right equiptment for carrying babies." Eddie said.

Steve looked up at him from where he laid on Eddie's chest, "I can have either parts, I'm not male or female in the way humans are, the male form was just easier when I changed, it's a less complicated system."

"Cool, I'd like to spawn with you, when you're ready for that, if you ever are." Eddie told Steve.

Steve stared at him in his unsettling way, "You are not lying."

"Nope, I love you, Steve, Monster or not, I'm yours until you decide otherwise." Eddie vowed.

"You need to talk to Wayne." Steve said.

"What?" Eddie frowned, what did Wayne have to do with this, with anything.

"He can explain what you're getting into better than I can, I didn't spend much time with Mated Pairs." Steve explained.

Eddie frowned, stared at Steve.

"Oh My God! WAYNE IS LIKE YOU?!" Eddie shouted.

-

Taglist: not taking tag requests, it's getting too long.

I will update this with the Ao3 link when it's posted.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/48500452?view_full_work=true

@addelyin @merricatty @lesbiabrobin @apuckishwit @0o-mushroom-o0 @starlight-archer @darkwitchoferie @just-a-tiny-void @swimmingbirdrunningrock @intergalactic-president-awesome @vampireinthesun @goodolefashionedloverboi @adhdsummer @purpleanimeoverart @space-invading-pigeon @lilaclilyroses @nohomoyesbi @plantzzsandpencilzzs @korixae @subversivecynic @flusteredcas @persnicketysquares @freddykicksasses @little-trash-ghost @cupcakesnwhiskey @cats-ate-all-of-my-pasta @planetsoda @paintsplatteredandimperfect @irregular-child @daydreamsandcrashingwaves @lifeisnotsobadonceyoustopcaring @steddieassheg0es

[not-poignant]

wait okay so now that you're seriously thinking of publishing, will you be writing a new prequel to game theory with the new 'Canon'? like the story as it's meant to have happened between gwyn, augus, terho and the nightingale, or are we just starting from game theory?

ALSO I'm so glad that you might be publishing the ftv soon for wholly selfish reasons -- you're clearly done writing about these characters, but personally I am nowhere near done reading about them, and I'm definitely not creative enough to write fanfiction myself either, so I'm just stuck rotating the characters inside my head like a microwave😭😭 it's really tough out here!!!

imagine the massive wave of new readers and the new community that's gonna come in once the story's more accessible... IT'S SO EXCITING

Hi anon!

No prequel, I'll be starting with Game Theory (and Deeper into the Woods will be published afterwards as a prequel, just as it was chronologically in general!)

Quite a bit of Game Theory is being edited and new content being added (anyone on the Gary & Efnisien tier can already see about 2,000 words of new content in the first three chapters alone, including new scene/s with Crielle), and some content being removed where it's OOC. The events with Terho and the Nightingale will be explained in Game Theory, with Gwyn likely meeting with Terho (or learning about him) a few times within.

As for Fae Tales, you know, it's nice to think there will be some new readers, and there might be like a handful or two, but there will be no massive wave. It is the least popular thing I've written in proportion to the amount of time I've put into it. Even the AUs have all generally done better proportionately.

It's one of the reasons I've never rushed to publish, honestly. It's a lot of work to put into something that you know will never financially justify itself. To the point where I think other projects are far more viable financially (Underline the Rainbow as a series I actually think would be great, because new, meaty omegaverse has a very intense (though small) fanbase and I think that series would bring more people in).

There would be no massive wave of new readers. I think we'd be lucky to see at most about 10 or 20 new folks, and I'll cherish everyone, but I'm also pretty realistic. More people find all my other works these days than Fae Tales, The Ice Plague is still one of the worst performing things I've written in proportion to length + time + work investment (despite being one of my favourite series out of anything I've written).

I think I'm realistic, and I also think there's a chance that the Fae Tales Verse if published could draw some haters. Most people don't want that level of BDSM in their epic fantasy, unless it's much lighter 'romantasy,' which Fae Tales definitely isn't. There's even a chance I might get my KDP author account suspended because of breaching content TOS/violations.

So yeah, it's a risk, but I'll take it. It's just not a risk I'm prioritising right now, because I can't see a way that the Fae Tales Verse will ever really go that far. Hand on heart, way more people who come over from my fanfiction find Falling Falling Stars and Underline and almost no one (with maybe a few exceptions - I love y'all) goes into the canon these days unless they're older / long-time readers.

[tex-treasure-chamber]

F. Anderson & a vampire reader that kept their faith (this is Christian oriented, mind, for maximum angst)

G!n reader and relationship unclear; I used humour throughout because some of this can feel a bit well hurtful reading, even for me writing it jdjdjd

@tokoyamisstuff here is the post I said I'd make! I hope it helps satisfy those asking for this sort of HC post!

At first, you are an enigma.

No, not an enigma- you're not real to Alexander in the beginning; to him, you simply shouldn't exist (and not just because you're an 'abomination').

You defy his core belief system so succinctly, so precisely, that the moment you mention that you're a Christian (or heaven forbid, Catholic-- he'd prefer it if you were some 'dirty Protestant' than Catholic) he automatically thinks you're lying just to upset him.

I'm so sorry honey but he becomes a total neckbeard about religion toward you for a while :/

I'm talking, "Oh really? Name five parables, explain their meanings, tell me which books they're in, and recite them verse by verse then if you're a PROPER TRUE Christian...... Go on. I'm waiting." about Christianity toward you because you can't be a Christian, you're a bloody vampire! Act like it, damn it!

When you rightly call him out on his awful gaslight girlboss gatekeep behaviour he gets hellllllllllllllla defensive about it. Shuts down and just starts trying to (unsuccessfully) kill you again until taking his leave with a scowl. (Why are you so hard to kill anyway?)

He doesn't care if you didn't choose to be a vampire or if you did- not at this time, anyway. You're damned as far as he's concerned and he doesn't care (yet)

Each time you meet afterwards for the longest time, he calls you a false worshipper either to your face or inside his mind.

Also, each time you just smile that close lipped smile, politely hiding your fangs, telling him you forgive him for his hostility in that genteel tone, each time you 'turn the other cheek' and don't rise to the bait he tries to ensare you with to argue with you, the sight of it eats him up inside that much more.

He wants you to get angry-- no. He NEEDS you to get angry at him, needs you to lash out, to prove to him that you aren't as saintly as he thinks you're pretending to be. When you don't, when you just escape him, it leaves him feeling so hollow and confused inside.

'What's real? Surely Y/N isn't a real believer- how can they be?' He thinks when he should be sleeping, 'It's impossible- vampires are beyond salvation, aren't they? God has no love for creatures such as these, isn't that right? Surely I'm right, surely God--'

Wait. Is he ....? Trying to speak for God?

He closes his eyes. Goes to sleep.

It's not until you've managed to earn his respect just by being the you that you are that he even begins to consider that MAYBE.... you're telling the truth.

The implications that you even might be telling the truth only send Alexander deeper into a spiral of confusion as your very existence forces him to reevaluate what he knows of his own God vs what Iscariot has drilled into his head for years.

When he catches you praying on his behalf, praying to God and asking that He 'forgive Father Anderson' for his behaviour toward you..... that's when the change in his heart begins to start.

How could he cling onto the doubt fueled by his innate hatred of vampires when he's heard you ask God to forgive him?

It slips out of his hands slowly but surely like sand from the beach.

The next time you see him, he's... he's quieter. He doesn't stand as tall; he hunches in just a little as though trying to get a better look at you.

"Why do you still believe in a God who has forsaken you?" He asks, the usual contempt and arrogance in his voice snuffed out, replaced with only meek wonder.

There are so many ways to answer that; whatever way you do answer, it only leaves Alexander a little awestruck by you.

He asks for forgiveness. Truly asks. "Y/N, I... I'm sorry. Sorry for the way I treated you. Sorry for what I've said, what I've called you." he says, and it's clear from the slow, careful way he speaks that this is all a bit rusty on his tongue but he means every syllable.

Your forgiveness feels like a stifling blanket- it's too much; he doesn't deserve it. He knows he doesn't. He's already gotten to the point of thinking about how if the roles were reversed, he wouldn't handle the behaviour he had shown you with such kindness, such... grace.

From that moment on, he's there for you. He can't imagine the psychological stress of being a vampire and a person of faith might do to you, can't imagine the struggle you face daily with knowing what you are vs knowing what you believe in.

He knows what it's like to struggle with being oneself.

If you didn't choose to be a vampire, he reminds you gently that it's not your fault that you crave blood; it's who you are now, but it isn't who you have to always be.

If you did choose to be a vampire, you must have your reasons. He may not agree or accept them, but he quietly respects them because at the end of the day, your salvation or damnation isn't up to him and he understands that now.

When you express doubt that you'll ever get to Heaven, or that you'll ever see God's face because of your vampirism, he just reminds you that the fact you keep trying every day to be good and do good despite your vampiric condition should be enough to earn yourself sainthood.

It's not easy for you.

But it makes it easier now that he knows and supports you.

[dr-spectre]

Im gonna be for real with you guys, when you stop getting deep in the roots of a fandom and stop giving a fuck about other people, you become so much more happier.

I feel happier as a Sonic fan when I stopped watching those 5 hour videos about how Sonic Frontiers is "fundamentally a bad game" and how "the story is the worst thing humanity has ever written" and "wahhh the fandom is toxic wahhh!!!! People can't handle criticism wahh!!!" Bitch they can, you're just presenting your points in a fucking shit way that makes people feel bad about themselves and you don't leave the door open for a healthy conversation. If you spend a large chunk of your "critique" on a video game talking about how toxic a fandom is then I'm sorry but you cannot complain about the fandom talking shit about you.

COUGH COUGH!!!

There's a difference between "oh i thought the story of Sonic Frontiers was a bit underwhelming because the side characters don't do much and I wish Sage and Eggman's relationship was more fleshed out. Like maybe if they added more scenes of them together it would better and make the original ending more impactful."

Verses "Frontiers fundamentally has a bad story and I'm gonna spend the next 5 hours shitting on it and nitpicking every little thing about it."

I'm not saying that you cannot be negative, I'm saying that if you are gonna be negative, don't be a cunt about it and feel like you're above anyone else. If you wanna rant then present your points in a funny way and make sure people who read or watch your points know that you're just rambling and ranting first. If you're gonna make a critique, you have to understand and acknowledge WHY people who disagree with you enjoy the thing. You cannot just constantly shit on something like the video game took your wife and kids and punched you in the balls man.

I have my own issues with Frontiers story and Ian Flynn's writing, but I'm not gonna be a cunt about how I say it. I've met people who like Amy's interpretation in Frontiers and they've explained why they like her in that game. They enjoy the more mature and mellowed Amy who isn't a hyper annoying starstruck woman. However, for me personally, after replaying Adventure 1 and 2 with retranslation mods, i've grown to really like Amy and i prefer when she's energetic and angry and all of that stuff. Plus i don't like the current voice direction so it makes her writing a little bit worse for me, she sounds like she's 35 instead of being a teen or young adult, but i could just play with the Japanese voices on if i wanted to so it's not a huge deal that makes Frontiers' story an "objective mess."

I think that life becomes more fun when you sit down with a piece of media, gather your own thoughts about it and maybe discuss it online in a fair honest manner. And you only seek out other opinions from people you actually wanna have a healthy discussion and debate with. Watching those several hour long videos about video games where most of it is just nitpicks and constant "why?" questions to every LITTLE FUCKING THING makes my brain wanna erupt into flames. I could apply the "oh why this? Why that? Why did this?" To every single story in existence if i wanted to. I could do it to make a story seem worser than it is.

If you wanna watch fair and honest reviews about Sonic media then watch videos by Sam Procrastinates and bickuribox12. They both address their positives and negatives on things and do fairly criticize media that they review without being overly dramatic, melancholy, and unfair.