#The Crimson Cavalier

[sonofcoulson]

1914 Freedom's Five (Limited series)

Victorex Prime or the Scarlet Centurion (a Kang variant) is bored of life in the 40th century, having conquered everything there is to conquer. He has now resorted to conquering various eras of the past to alleviate the boredom. He has been trying to conquer earth during the chaos of WWI, identified as a good point in earth's history. Suitably advanced, but no notable superheroes. He has future tech and future fighters and they are mistaken for ‘martians’ by the public.

The Time Variance Authority aren't pruning regularly yet as this is still the time war, though He Who Remains (not named in the show) has worked out the technology. They have to stop the Scarlet Centurion to finally bring about the sacred timeline. They've stopped him twice and he escaped both times. They know if he continues to mess with this timeline then time eaters (demons from outside of time) will eventually consume it anyway. We will see this take effect in Legion later on.

Revonna Renslayer, a time judge, wants to use the new technology to prune the timeline, Kang variant and all. Mobius wants to try something different to see if the timeline can be saved. 

He tips off an obscure superhero team of the period and they take out a ‘martian’ tripod by themselves, proving to Renslayer that there is a possibility to save this timeline. 

Our heroes have to fight alongside the TVA against the invasion whilst simultaneously staving off being pruned by the same group.

The team are called ‘Freedom's Five’ (cringe) and consist of:

The Crimson Cavalier - Jean-Luc Batroc, an antecedent of Batroc the Leaper from CA:TWS. Equally adept at savate, swordsmanship and proto-parkour athleticism (studied under Georges Hérbert at Reims University in France). He was a criminal in peace time but fights for the freedom of France. (Played by David Belle).

Iron Fist - The Orson Randall version. Orson abandoned his post as protector of  the heavenly city of K'un Lun (luckily they replaced him before the city was attacked). Born in K'un Lun to an American father, he is headstrong and brash but also brave and protective of his comrades. He channels the mystical power from his fists into dual-wield pistols, extending the range and accuracy of his power as well as being an expert martial artist. He replaced the Silver Squire in the Squad. (Played by Brandon Lee).

Phantom Eagle - Karl Kaufmann. American born German who fights for the allies. The aceiest of flying aces and skilled at hand to hand combat too. (Played by Dolph Lundgren)

Sir Steel - Ned Chapel, a Yorkshire blacksmith, worked on the Armatage Estate and was bequeathed the enchanted armour Sir Steel. He is a master swordsman and has near invulnerability from his enchanted armour. His sidekick the Silver Squire is currently injured and therefore absent from the team. (Played by Sean Bean)

Union Jack - A young Lord James Montgomery Falsworth. Studied at Reims with Jean-Luc. Equally adept at the proto-parkour style of athleticism. Dead shot with a pistol and skilled at hand to hand combat. Sometimes converses in French with Jean-Luc. (Played by JJ Feild. Though I'm tempted to replace him with an age appropriate Nigel Havers).

TVA characters:

Judge Revonna Renslayer

Agent Mobius M. Mobius

General Dox

Hunter B-15

Hunter C-20

Hunter X-5

Various hunters and agents, maybe some clerical workers back at the TVA.

Other characters:

Lady Falsworth, the fiancée of James who holds a secret (she is Inhuman).

John Falsworth, younger brother of Lord James. Irked at being second in line for the title.

Ursula Frankenstein, John's love interest, has an ulterior motive for being with John. She is close to making a breakthrough in reanimation and is willing to go to whoever will fund her, including Hydra and mysterious cults.

Scarlet Centurion's warriors

Also Military types of the era

In the end they succeed, with TVA having to wipe everyone's memories of future tech and time travel. The government, with limited information, pass it off as a massive German bombing raid.

The Freedom's Five know it wasn't that, but they don't know what it was.

Back at the TVA, Mobius is disappointed that they had to take their victory away from them. Renslayer reminds him that was the only thing that saved them from being pruned.

[hyakilove129]

Part 3 final

En español

Bueno al final beacon no le tiene miedo a absorbo pero no va a perdonar tan fácil todo lo que le a echo hasta cavalier sabe que no es lindo ver al peque beacon enojado

Lo que le espera absorbo lad

in English

Well in the end beacon is not afraid of absorbing but he will not forgive so easily everything that he has done to him even cavalier knows that it is not nice to see the little beacon angry

What awaits I absorb lad

[splooosh]

“it was a glorious time”

Frank Robbins-Vince Colletta

[tzihomara]

MISSING YOU . . .₊˚⊹

— who knew your bossy house cat could be so . . . needy?

wc. 3.2k , mdni | fem!reader, unestablished relationship, jealous rough sèx, brèeding, degradation, crèampie, full form sukuna, mirror sèx, tigerhybrid!sukuna, possessiveness, intoxication, scenting, squırting, two còck’s, not proofread.

an;. i got so tired writing this… and i don’t even like it. was thinking & listening to this song while writing for him lolz

“quit your unnecessary movement, woman.”

he grumbled hoarsely, thick stripped tail swatting around and thumping the hardwood floors of your apartment. the two you sitting infront of your mirror.

even though ryomen sukuna’s period of reining the world of curses and jujutsu sorcerers, as king of curses, was indeed over, reduced to a mere house pet. he was still, just as commanding and prissy as ever.

all four of his muscular, and tatted arms wrapped around your smaller frame. demanding and beckoning insistently, silently with a grumpy pout, that you had sat in his lap. not knowing you’d soon feel his large and prickly tongue licking, or “grooming” you so he say’s, once you got a bit too comfortable in the warmth of his frame, licking over.. , and over again, relentlessly seeming. paws digging into you possessively.

you had went to a ‘work’ gettogether your boss had setup, have some drink’s, celebrate, and decompress after the hard work that you, and your coworkers had been through during these few specifically taxing weeks. leaving your particularly cavalier house cat, all alone.

when you had drunkenly unlocked your door, stumbling through it, you were immediately met with and faced a heavily displeased, and exasperated cat. predaceous, sharp, deep crimson irisis looking down at you. fumbling around, your inebriated mind had finally registered him infront of you in the dim lights, you had got home late, a bit— completely, caught up being “excessively friendly” as he’d word it, greeting your coworkers and superiors goodbye.

his fluffy ears were pressed flatly against his wispy hair, not ashamed or hesitant to put his discontent on display for you, tail whipping around irritably, nose scrunching up.

you reeked of a scent that wasn’t his, and he just had to fix it. immediately. resisting the urge to pounce and gnaw your neck to bits, like a chew toy. just for your insolence of returning to him in this,…. “state”.

which is how you ended up now, in his hold, his slob sticking and drying to your skin. “ryo ..’ i think ‘m pretty clean now.” you quietly sigh, tempted to accept your fate. and he scowl’s silently. “you still carry that stench on you. perhap’s, you need proper cleaning further.” he utter’s, while you groan in defeat quitely. “don’t.” he hissed. quipping back quickly, “you subjected yourself to this, woman. ridding my scent off of you for whatever absurd and preposterous reason. are you trying to suggest you’re available?” he glower’s. “course ‘mnot trying to. swear i didnt mean to ‘kuna..” you say, a little drunken slur to your word’s.

he hate’s it, the scent of alchol. but he’d rather have it that, than anyone else’s scent on you again. ever.

he huff’s, a bit more lenient, since you’re intoxicated. vulnerable in his eye’s. a foolish human— his. continuing to lick and brush his bristled tongue over you, leaning a little lower and licking at your neck, feeling your pulse point. cleansing you, yet also marking his scent back over you dually. the sensation makes you shudder. he’s given you “tongue bath’s” before, although something about this particularly, feels a little,.. different.

maybe it was your drunken mind seeking out things that weren’t there.

tongue steadily flicking over your neck, causing just a slight blush of pink on the sensitive and thin skin of your neck, from irritation. inhaling into it, taking in the concoction of both your own and his scent mixed. that was significantly better. letting out a rough purr in contentment. “are y’done yet?” you ask, not from impatience , or being bored, merely curious at how far he’d take this with his previous comment. “if it were my choice, which it should be. you’d get a much more thorough cleaning. be fortunate m’letting you off like this, brat.” he huffed into your neck. “but you’ve already been lickin me f’twenty mins, kuna.” you sigh. “privileged it wasn’t’ an hour.” he roll’s his eyes.

tail flickering slightly, curled and thick, brushing against you. four arms wrapped around you begrudgingly loosening, free from his grasp. resting his chin on the crown of your head, ears twitching. you can hear the heavy purrs reverberating in his broad chest, two of the four hands resting on your thigh’s.

this is how it should’ve been, if he knew you’d come home like this, he would’ve kept you in his grasp to prevent it. a cheek rubbing into your head, coming down to softly bite your cheek. a silent demand for your attention.

already becoming needy for you, though he’d never admit it aloud. letting his actions speak subtly. you hum, “mhm?…” replying to his demand, small hand of yours going up to caress his hair, inching towards the two fluffy ears that reside on his head. scratching behind the fluff. a rough mix of purrs and growl’s erupting from his chest, “brat. quit it.” he scowl’s, although does nothing to stop it. he could easily remove himself if he pleased, purr’s betraying his gruff tone and word’s.

you weren’t aware, completely oblivious. naive to how needy he was.

missing your presence more than he’d like to admit when you were gone. all. damn. day, he felt like he was going to drive himself crazy when he found himself in your bedroom. sniffing and inhaling the scent of you. clothes, blankets, panties—anything he could find. rutting and grinding his clothed cock’s into your pillows, mounting and biting down on the soft fluff, imagining it were you instead. hands pulling you tighter, flush to him. and you didn’t protest against it.

your own hands rubbing and softly scratching his ears in just the way he likes, unknowing the affect’s it has on him. you thought he excused himself purely out of embarrassment when you got done scratching him, never thinking of the fact that he get’s unbelievably hard after it. purrs getting heavier, just by a little bit, pressing his cheek into your own. ears twitching. you made him melt. body almost going slack for a minute. letting out just the faintest pant. he felt himself getting worked up already. silence being interrupted by the soft tussling of you adjusting your position, the floor can only be comfortable for so long.

taking notice of your discomfort, two large hands promptly settling you on his lap further more. “better?” he mumbled, cheek still in contact with your own, and you nodded. “mhm, ts’better,” adjusting yourself more, slightly grinding down into his lap to get comfortable. “should prob get off the floor, since you’re finished.”, he kissed his teeth. “y’er own fault for not being able to withstand it. no need to move.” he grumble’s, though he merely didn’t want you to move from his lap, even for a split second. “too feeble.” he sighs, voice a little hoarse. getting a little mouthy. ears pressing to the back of his head. and you roll your eyes and pout. “apologies for not being soooo big, ‘tough n bad like you.”

and he growls.

quietly tsking at your words, lowering his head and delivering a faint bite to side of your neck. fangs scratching the skin. you couldn’t bring yourself to scold your kitty, especially after leaving him oh, so lonely today. your pout deepened, pinching his cheek in response. “hmph.. careful.” you warned softly. his grip tightened on you. his own inner turmoil deepened, the need for you. to suffocate you against the floor, act on his need to mark you, inside and out. it was tempting. licking and nibbling at your neck. “pitiful.” he scoff’s, a larger hand subtly rubbing down into your inner thigh. squeezing the plump flat. tail swishing more feistily.

sukuna wasn’t a gentle nor slow man, it was near impossible for him. but he could try, and he was now. patience slowly wearing thin.

he deepened his bite, provoking a little whine from you. he was fortunate you couldn’t see his expression, the way his eyes nearly rolled back at just that. feeling like he’s on the verge of driving himself into a rut. pressing you further down into his lap, semi hard cock’s already starting to make its appearance with a print. you could feel his damp and hot breath on the back of your neck, and you couldn’t deny the way it made you throb in your inebriated state. already feeling hot and flushed from the alcohol, his clingyness wasn’t lessening the sensation’s you felt. “you’re g’na leave a mark. .” you murmured out. sneering at your word’s. “maybe it’ll get it into y’er head to stop ‘flaunting’ around in other people’s scent. ‘pissin me off.” he jibed, licking a fat wet strip up your neck, to behind your ear. beginning to chew on your bottom lip, eyes narrowing.

you could feel that familiar heat pooling in your stomach already, damp cunt clenching around nothing, to your disappointment.

every single time, he could smell the arousal immediately. having such a sensitive and potent sense of smell.

he snickered. clothed arousal fully hard now, you could feel it. he didn’t even bother to hide it now, warmth pressing against your ass. you couldn’t help but feel your face turn a singular shade deeper. breath catching in your throat, silently gulping and tilting your head back to rest on his shoulder. it was his own sign of permission, a silent granting of consent. you knew you couldn’t hide it and he knew it aswell. if not better than you. panting and breathing heavily into your neck. it got you soaked.

hip’s seeking out friction, clothed cock’s grinding into your ass unabashedly, heaving into your ear with a handsome cackle that’s his laugh. “shiit, woman.” he cursed under his breath, and you let out a little whimper. tiny “o-oh” escaping your lip’s. your already simmering body reacting deliciously to his neediness. flushed cunt drenching your panties already. the two hand’s that were resting comfortably on your thighs traveling up to your hip’s, now at the seam’s of your pants, prying and tugging them down, down, down. balled up and wrinkled at your ankle’s, soon completely off. one hand of the four slipping into your panties, a rough padded finger collecting your slick and rubbing your slit. feeling — her, pulse around them. “s’fuckin needy. greedy girl.” he groaned into your ear. ear’s twitching sensitively.

you haven’t ever gotten this wet, and so quickly. beginning to grind back on his fingers, you could see it. the two of you in this position through the mirror infront of you both, it made your breath hitch. two thick lengthy finger’s suddenly sinking into your cunt, squelching and sucking them in. just two fingers of his make you feel so damn full already, thrusting gently while another finger rubs at your clit, low attentive eye’s watching you through the mirror, heavy purrs against your back. rough fingers massaging just the perfect spots inside your velvety walls. “kuna..’” you mewled softly, and he tightens his hold on your thigh’s, spreading them further apart, tugging your panties aside to watch in the mirror. watching your cunt messily clench around him, your slick running down his hand. dripping on his clothed hard on. fabric damp with precum and your arousal.

breath slightly trembling in your ear, hips still needily pressing his aching cock’s into your ass. tail flickering and slithering to wrap around you leg, keeping it in place. “fuuuck.” he groaned, bordering on a moan. “clenchin’ around my fingers like some slut.” biting a little rougher into your neck. you try to turn your cheek—only to be snatched right back in place, rough padded fingers digging isn’t your cheeks and jaw. forcing you to look at the mess he’s making of you. a laugh melting into a moan. “y’like this, brat? watching y’erself’ drench all over my fingers?” “keep your eye’s on us.” he heave’s. fingers curling impeccably, in justtt- the right spot. feeling that coil in your tummy tighten implausibly tighter. schlick noises of his finger’s and your arousal resonant in the room.

your hip’s lazily grinding further onto his girthy digit’s, stuttering languidly over them eyeing yourself. it was so humiliating. his fingers acutely rubbing your soft spot. coil inside your tummy snapping, stomach flexing with frantic ragged breath’s, and a whine. dually creaming and squirting incessantly on his finger’s, hip’s trying to pull away in overstimulation. paded finger mercilessly, relentlessly rubbing continuously, vigorously pulling out choked mewl’s and whimpers out you. “k-kunaaaaa’ , w-wait stopsst-opp,” sob’s prettily spilling from you, palms grasping, fingers digging into his wide forearm in attempt to steady yourself. provoking a hiss from him.

you want to escape from this overbearing feeling, but relish in it too. you both know you don’t mean to try and run. and he purr’s with a grumble.

a hand jerking his short’s down, two lengthy cock’s slapping your puffy folds, slicked with your wetness and release, pretty cherry pink tip’s leaking bead’s of precum, dribbling down his cut length. the fact he had matching tatt’s there made you gush. lengthier cock head prodding, nudging at your fold’s and entrance, your drunken mind whirling from the booze and previous overstimulating high from a few seconds ago, two hand’s back grappling at your thighs, hoisting them up infront of the mirror. finding yourself in a headlock. he has you in full nelson, slowly leaning back into the couch. brows furrowed and tail swatting.

you feel his leaking tip continuously pressing, before sinking into you, eliciting a quiet mewl, chin resting on his forearm, purposely keep your heavy head up to watch him. secondary cock still grinding against the fat of your ass. you felt so suffocatingly full, with a stretched that burn so painfully fucking good. pretty glimmering tears welling in your eyes, you don’t know if it’s from the pain or pleasure, a concoction of both. snickering with a small tsk. “should’ve known , y’er sucha’ crybaby.”, his mean teasing making you grip him impossibly tighter. you loved it. “should i go slow f’ya? think you deserve it after comin home to smelling like that’ , brat?” he groaned into your ear, a rhetorical question. he wasn’t going to be nice, and you were somewhat hoping for that. feeling a little defiant. “shut the f-fuck up.’ fuck me already.” you blurted out. and his eye’s narrowed, temporarily stunned by your word’s, it made his cock twitch— both of them.

with a scoff followed by a grunt, hand’s immediately slamming your hips down with a force that might’ve made you regret being hasty if you weren’t just as needy as him. a slurred, much louder whine escaping at the show of force, suddenly feeling his pace pick up after it, not as harsh as before. tip messily kissing the entrance of your cervix, leaving every spot untouched in your wall’s, you could see it. the way his cock bulge’s in your tummy, roughly dragging your hip’s up and down on his length, yet hips still slamming into you. absolutely using you. and you were fucking loving it, shamelessly moaning and babbling incomprehensibly. “f-fuckfuckfuuuuck..rightthereeuuh” watching yourself get pounded into relentlessly, second cock drooling with loads of precum, slick against your ass. drool dribbling out the corner of your mouth, but throat going dry at the same time. a loud groan forged with a purr escaping his throat. “stupid’ fuckin slut. need to learn some damn manner’s.” tail swishing wildly, his size with your grip was driving him feral, you were squeezing him.

if only you could see his pupils expanding. it were as if he’d been given catnip, even so, you & your cunt is the better drug. “suckin’ me up so damn good. like this pussy is mine, shit-“ he growled with a pant. “m-mhm ts’yours kuna- all y-yours, uooh-“, he wasn’t quick to finish no matter what, but he could’ve came right then and there when you said that, a shudder rushing over his body, a palm smushing your face, gripping harshly to turn it, shifting his head to press a sloppy kiss to you. a distraction. feeling his length somehow grow harder than it already was, he was so deep. it hurt just a tad, but in the best way. you weren’t even sure you could moan into his mouth anymore from how good he was digging into you, stretching you impeccably. rubbing in spot’s you had yet to reach on your own, nobody could reach but him. not like he’d let a man get even close to you ever again after this accident. a hand of his spreading your thigh’s further, a predatory glint in them as he looked from the second eye above his cheekbone, watching your cunt take every single inch. tongue licking all around inside your mouth, coating himself in your taste. toe’s clenching, curling , as hard as you could, the pleasure was just so. fucking. much. tiny hand’s retuning to grasp as his forearm, digging your nail’s into him. leaving little crescent’s. your own mark’s. his pace not even faltering once. pulling back with an airy gasp, groaning in your ear. “i own you. own this pretty ‘lil cunt. gonna fuck you full of my cum, brat. ts’ what you want huh? workin me up with that filthy mouth. should put it ta’ work next.”, and you nod absentmindedly, the tear’s that were brimming your eye’s already cascading down your cheek’s. “uuuhuh, wan’ your cubs s-so bad kuna,” you whined through mewl’s and sob’s, close to your second orgasm, so damn close.

he was close already too, just by how obediently you were nodding along to him, like a mindless doll. and he landed the prettiest one. the two of you were just barely hanging on by a thread, his thrusts becoming more sloppy. languid. deep and harsh, feeling his tip nuzzling just a bit dipper into you, hitting your cervix making you yelp in pleasure and pain, your orgasm hitting you like a fucking truck, clenching down on him as that familiar creamy white ring form’s around his cock again, all in his view. feeling you grip like a damn vice was his breaking point, hips stuttering for the last time before a full blown moan escape’s him, hissing as his eye’s so subtly roll back. bottoming out and cumming fucking bucket’s in you, second cock messily spilling on the floor, feeling the hot spurt’s from his tip inside you, lazily, slowly, fucking you through your own and his release, ear’s flickering up, heavy purrs and pant’s in your ear’s and it felt like you weren’t even present on earth. your mind sent whirling at the sensation of him pulsing inside you. slowly pulling out, not flaccid in the slightest yet. a worn whimper slipping from you in disappointment, cunt gaping and clenching around nothing. palms rubbing the inside of your thigh’s, in a trance at the mess he’s made of you. heaving. purr’s and heavy breath’s filling the silence. tossing his head back with a groan. a temporary peace, resting your eye’s for a few minute’s. you felt so exhausted already, ready to call it quit’s in your intoxicated mind. but sukuna had other plan’s, making it noticeable when he slid his second, wider, more girthier cock, into you. stretching you once again. grip seemingly tighter on you. “don’t think i’m done with you. still have hour’s to make up to me, fuckin brat.” he groan’s.

and you certainly did make up for those hour’s you left your poor kitty all alone, needy and without your perfect pussy.

my masterlist for more .ᐟ

[pin-k-ink]

lesson learnt // narumi gen

tw ⇢ reader is second in command instead of hasegawa, switch!narumi, dom!reader, manhandling(?), strong sexual tension, biting, marking, making out, dry humping, grinding, slight nipple play

wc ⇢ 1.6k

"Just how goddamn useless are you?"

The furious words burst from your lips the moment you flung open Gen Narumi's bedroom door. The First Division captain blinked up at you owlishly, controller frozen in his hands and the latest high-octane shooter game paused mid-firefight on his massive television.

You could feel your chest heaving with barely restrained ire as you drank in the slovenly state of Gen's personal quarters. Discarded snack wrappers and soda cans littered every surface, empty two weeks' worth of laundry spilled from the hamper, and the unmistakable funk of unwashed male musk clung to the air.

"Uh...hello to you too?" Gen's cocky half-grin was wholly at odds with the thunderous darkness roiling in your gaze. "Jeez, what's got your panties in a twi—"

"Don't!" You sliced a hand through the air, shutting down the start of whatever juvenile taunt he was preparing to lob your way. Like always, his flippant, childish demeanor in the face of your justifiable rage only stoked your fury to more blazing heights.

Stalking fully into the room, you snatched the controller from Gen's lax grip, ignoring his squawk of protest. With a few forceful jabs, you terminated the game and powered off the system entirely. Gen jolted upright at that, eyes comically wide.

"Hey! I didn't save my checkpoint, you kn--"

"I don't give a flying fuck about your stupid games, Narumi!" You hurled the controller aside, watching it shatter against the wall with vicious satisfaction. Gen actually flinched at the outburst, all traces of his usual carefree smirking bravado evaporating. "While you've been wasting days in this pathetic mancave, I've had to cover for your lazy ass with the top brass AGAIN!"

Finally Gen found his voice again, adopting that defensive whining tone you'd come to loathe. "Aw, c'mon babe, no need to make such a big deal--"

"Don't you dare 'babe' me!" You rounded on Gen with such ferocity that the hulking combat expert actually shrank back under your gaze. "I'm your XO, not your goddamn maid to keep cleaning up your messes!"

Fists clenched, you paced in an agitated spiral as weeks' worth of simmering resentment came spilling forth in a torrent. "Those hidebound old bastards already look down at me thanks to your permanently unprofessional bullshit! And then I get reamed out for YOUR dereliction during the briefing?!"

Whirling back towards the bed, you stabbed an accusatory finger towards Gen's heavily defined torso. "Well not anymore! From now on, maybe my update reports should also include all the wasted hours I spend dragging your immature, sorry ass out of whatever selfish rabbithole you've dived into this time!"

All the while Gen simply...watched you. Jaw slightly unhinged, eyes tracing every sharp jut of your rigid silhouette, the heaving swell of your chest with each panting exhalation. You might have noticed if your vision weren't occluded by a haze of seething crimson.

Finally, when your throat felt raw and your scorching tirade began to ebb, you fixed Gen with a glare of pure disgust. "Well?! You gonna say anything for yourself, or just keep gawking li--"

"Holy fuck, that was hot."

The guttural words burst from Gen's lips, gravelly and utterly stripped of his typical cavalier bravado. You blinked, thrown by both the blunt assertion and the undisguised want blazing in those exotic red eyes.

"Wha...what did you just say?"

Rather than reply, Gen surged upright in one sinuous, coiled motion until his powerful frame was looming over your own in a heated rush. You instinctively backpedaled until the small of your back met the solid oak of his desk.

You sucked in a sharp breath as Gen's solid weight pressed you insistently back against the unyielding desk. His unique red-on-red gaze smoldered with undisguised hunger, pinning you in place just as effectively as his powerful frame.

"So..." Gen's voice was a low, gravel-rough rasp that made something twist low in your belly. "Looks like I finally found a way to light that famous fire of yours, huh?"

You opened your mouth - to protest, to deny, you weren't quite sure. But any retort shriveled on your tongue as Gen slowly, deliberately ran his hands up the outside of your thighs. Calloused palms blazed searing trails along the taut material of the combat suit until they settled in a possessive grip around your waist.

"You know..." He murmured, dipping his head until those full lips brushed the throbbing pulse at your throat. "I always suspected you'd look incredible like this."

A startled gasp escaped you as Gen's teeth grazed that sensitive juncture between neck and collarbone. Your fingers dug into the corded muscles of his shoulders seemingly of their own volition, torn between pushing him away and pulling him infinitely closer.

"All flushed and riled up, chest heaving with that righteous indignation..." Gen continued in that same unhurried timbre. He punctuated each remorselessly descriptive word with slow, maddening kisses along the entire slender column of your neck. "Who knew getting a rise out of you could be so goddamn sexy."

This time it was an outright moan that spilled shamelessly past your lips. You could feel Gen's wolfish smirk against your overheated skin, the vibration of his low rumble of satisfaction.

"That's it, gorgeous..." He rasped. "Let me hear how much you want to let that famous temper off the leash again."

As if punctuating the heated challenge, Gen rolled his hips in one slow, undulating grind against yours. You jolted at the insistent friction, the blatant outline of his cock grinding exquisite torment against your own aching pussy.

"Come on..." Gen's agile tongue traced the delicate whorls of your ear in a scorching tease. "Let me have it one more time, babe."

That blatantly provocative endearment finally snapped the tenuous thread of your control. With a strangled sound of pure frustration, you seized Gen by the lapels of that rumpled shirt and crushed your mouth against his in a fierce, searing clash of lips and teeth and questing tongues.

You growled deep in your throat as you tugged him closer by the collar, using his own muscular weight to shove him backwards onto the disheveled futon. He landed with a whuff of expelled air, eyes blazing triumphant satisfaction at finally provoking this unrestrained response.

In one fluid motion, you swung a leg over to straddle Gen's powerful frame, pinning him beneath you with both hands braced on that chiseled chest. His smug grin only widened at the blatant display of aggression, hips canting upwards in a slow grind of his twitching cock against the inner crease of your thigh.

"There she is..." Gen's gravelly purr made the hair prickle deliciously at your nape. "That's my wildcat, all riled up and ready to pounce."

You snarled incoherently, fisting the fabric of his shirt until the seams strained against his broad shoulders. Gen's eyelids drifted to half-mast in pure, unabashed enjoyment of your dominance, making absolutely no move to throw off your weight or reverse positions.

Instead, his palms smoothed insolently up the flare of your hips, cupping your breasts over your suit to blaze scorching trails along the sensitive skin beneath as he languidly pulls your zipper down. Each calloused stroke of his thumbs over your newly freed nipples seemed deliberately calculated to provoke another breathless keen from your lips, another frustrated grind against his insistent cock.

"Fuck...you like getting me all worked up like this, don't you?" you bit out, fingers tangling almost painfully in those unruly locks.

Rather than reply with words, Gen simply angled his head in silent invitation, chin tilted in smoldering challenge. His tongue darted out to wet those full lips in a blatant tease.

A harsh exhale of capitulation gusted from you as you seized Gen's face in both hands and crashed your mouth against his in a molten, hungry clash. He swallowed your guttural moan of satisfaction like a man savoring the finest delicacy as your bodies strained and rolled together in familiar, incendiary tempos.

Gen's hands carded through your sweat-damped hair in blatant possession, but you swiftly captured those questing wrists in a punishing grip, pinning them against the mattress on either side of his head. A low, guttural groan rumbled from Gen's broad chest at your bold show of command.

"You like that, don't you Narumi?" you growled, leaning until your lips were a scorching hairsbreadth from his own. "Being handled so roughly...overpowered..."

Rather than answer, Gen simply held your smoldering stare, pupils blown wide with undisguised wanting. His muscular frame remained utterly pliant beneath your restraining weight.

Satisfied at his rapt surrender, you rolled your hips in one torturously slow grind, savoring the broken whimper Gen failed to stifle. His powerful arms tensed as if to throw you off, but you only tightened your grip on those pinioned wrists in silent warning.

"Don't even think about it, Captain," you purred, dipping to trail molten kisses along the corded column of Gen's neck. "This wildcat's just getting started putting you in your place."

Punctuating that statement, you sank your teeth into the fevered hollow just above Gen's thundering pulse. He sucked in a harsh breath, hips canting wantonly against yours as if seeking divine friction.

"F-Fuck...you're playing a dangerous game, gorgeous," Gen managed to grate out, words tapering into a gravelly keen as you worried that sensitized flesh between your teeth. "One you might not wanna...ahh...finish."

"Oh, I'm going to finish this..." You rasped the promise, hands roaming insolently over the grooved cut of Gen's abdomen. "I'm going to make you lose that insufferable swagger completely before I'm done with you, Narumi. Mark my words."

Gen's only response was a shuddering exhalation as you captured his wandering hands once more, guiding them over the hypersensitized flesh left deliciously bare by your unzipped suit. You drank in the undisguised rapture blazing across the hardened planes of your captain's features as he finally surrendered to your scorching possession.

[rubistella]

@relentlessgrief || fucked around and is about to find out

“Well, obviously I am.” Astarion’s tenor was flippant, almost cavalier, as if the idea of rubbing salt into an open wound amused him. Never mind the fact that the ‘wound’ in question belonged to a skeleton. The vampire made no effort to soften his words. Why should he? It wasn’t as though the creature had feelings.

Or so he told himself.

“But we have other differences too,” Astarion continued, voice laced with blatant malice. Crimson eyes appraised the skeleton from skull to phalanges, curiosity peaking. He’d seen it before, the way even a spear through the ribcage didn’t seem to faze the thing. Bone shattered and reformed, yet still...

Astarion half-wondered if holy damage would finally get the job done.

“Some of us may rank among the undead, but can still be killed.” He let the statement steep, a reminder that, despite his vampiric immortality, there were limits.

[calico-heart]

14. Telling

I'lyrha lunged. Missed. Again.

X'rhun decided to add insult to injury this time, the flat of his sword giving her rear a good slap as she tumbled past him.

Whirling to find him already returned to a ready stance, Lyrha let out a frustrated yowl and pinned her ears. "If I was fightin' ye fer real —"

"You wouldn't have had time to get the words out." X'rhun smirked, tilting his head. Blue eyes sparkled with mischief, as white hair twisted faintly in the desert wind. "You've been distracted all morning. Be grateful I'm going easy on you, Lass."

A number of rising welts and darkening bruises accross her figure indicated no such leniency. Fur fluffing, she stomped a foot. "EASY?" Months of training, and even still, she couldn't come close to matching him in a duel.

She glanced at Arya, who sat on a nearby rock in observation. As if the embarrassment wasn't enough already, Lyrha had to endure an audience.

"Focus, I'lyrha." X'rhun warned her with a cavalier flick of his tail. "Or I might start taking fur." Her eyes fixed on the curve of his lip as he spoke, which moved with the same casual grace as the rest of him. He even talked pretty. Infuriating.

"Like t'see ye try! Decrepit bastard!" She hissed back, stancing up and then advancing on him again with even greater aggression than before.

X'rhun's gaze kept fixed intently upon her. He held himself steady. And still that cocksure fucking smirk!

Blade met blade in a chorus of ringing metal. They spun, Focuses throbbing brightly behind them in aetherbright trails. His steps were sure. Each evasion precise, each counter as instinctive as it was intentional. No matter how she pushed him, she could not knock him off balance.

A bold swing from her left an opening that he exploited mercilessly. She narrowly ducked beneath the downward sweep of Murgleis as the wind off his blade tousled her hair. X'rhun forced her into a hasty retreat, pressing his newfound advantage. Huffing, Lyrha took a great leap backwards to regain distance.

He pursued — as expected. Giving a Red Mage space to cast would be a costly mistake, and X'rhun was too skilled a duelist to take the risk.

But knowing what he would do and being able to thwart him were entirely different beasts.

Momentum thrust him against her as their rapiers crossed, and here his superior height and weight were brought to bear in pushing her down. She'd lost, again. There were only the last few steps to play out to confirm it. Lips pulled back, Lyrha hissed. And then, to further the point, she spit right in his flushed face.

X'rhun flinched, and retaliated immediately by kicking her in the shin. "You devil!"

Balance faltering, Lyrha kept her sword arm steady even on the way to the ground. She rolled, scrambling away and cussing profusely. Yet inexplicably, he gave her the space to retreat. She found this almost more insulting. What, now she wasn't even good enough to properly defeat?

Rubbing the edge of his hand across his face, X'rhun cleared it of her fluids. He flicked his gaze toward Arya, then back to his errant apprentice. "Must I remind you again? This isn't some — tavern brawl. Try to have a little decorum, at least. We are dueling, I'lyrha."

They were doing something.

Beneath the stuffy bright crimson of his coat, he was panting. Sweat slicked off his brow. Lyrha's ears pricked over the possibility she'd tired him. The fact her own sides heaved mattered little. If she could exploit his flagging strength and win through sheer endurance — that would be a worthy victory.

He took a heavy breath to steady himself. But instead of returning to the ready, X'rhun lowered his blade and decided, "That's enough for now. Take a moment to recover, and return to your kata."

She blinked, gaping. "What! Fuck that ye fuckin' coward! I'm not yet finished wit'ye!"

"You are meant to be practicing your forms." He frowned. "Unless you intend to tell me you've found some means to channel through that mouth of yours better than the blade, I fear you are too angry to find the lesson productive I'lyrha." His gaze softened, "Don't be discouraged. You've been improving steadily — if you can learn to curb the impulse to attack in anger, you'll find yourself on a much better foot next time. But for now, return to kata. Our match is finished."

When a chance at victory was within her grasp? Hardly!

He made the mistake, then, of turning his back to her. I'lyrha dropped her sword and flung her Focus at him with all the force she could muster. A thread of silver aether trailed behind it, so when the metal-caged bauble collided with the back of her mentor's head all Lyrha had to do was leap along her web and the whole rest of her came careening after it.

Then ninety-eight ponze of pure unadulterated fury latched itself onto him in a fit of swinging claws, kicking boots, and biting teeth. X'rhun barely turned in time to catch her, holding the worst of it at bay as he, too was forced to drop his sword and address the more intimate threat. "I'lyr-ghhhk!"

They fell to the ground in a flurry of sloppy wrestling. He was agile, but she was angry.

When the dust cleared and she straddled him in victory, I'lyrha couldn't help a little crow of triumph. Claws digging into his forearms, she leaned down close to his face to gloat, "How's that fer decorum, pisswank?"

He cocked an unimpressed brow.

Her own furrowed. His sweat was a distractingly heavy musk, this close. Salt and iron and that peculiar flavor unique to his individual. She swallowed. Licked blood that dripped off her nose down to her lip.

And then, in a swift motion, X'rhun pitched his hips upward and yanked his arms down, and any semblance of balance Lyrha had got chucked head over heels with the rest of her.

"Fuck!" She screeched, and managed only muffled profanities after that as X'rhun, who had recovered startlingly fast, flung his black cape around her head and yanked her back, trapping her in its nefarious folds.

"That's quite enough of that." He chuckled, pulling her tight against him and restraining her arms, legs splayed to avoid retaliatory kicks.

When he finally gave her back use of her eyes, she certainly wasn't any calmer, but if she was being honest, this whole ordeal was starting to feel a little disorienting and anger was not the first thing on her mind, anymore.

Pushing away from him hard, Lyrha staggered several fulms to the side and began aggressively smoothing out her fur.

"You've the heart, I'lyrha — but you neglected your steel. And fair abandoned your wit." X'rhun teased, bending down to pick up his hat and keeping one eye trained on her. "You see, Arya?" he asked, waving his fingers and turning his head towards her, "Sword or no, victory begins with observation and a steady mind."

"��Oh! Yes." Blinking, Little Sister wore the most peculiar expression, but she smiled as she glanced between the pair of them and affirmed, "I do see."

(FFxivWrite 2024 - Prompt 14)

[theunkown-yachirusan]

The Crimson Moon

Opening File......

File name : Y/n

.......

Y/n Uchiha the eldest sister of Uchiha Itachi and Uchiha Sasuke. The very well known "Akai me no Kaibutsu" or as "The Red-eyes Monster" of Konoha as that time her team was ambushed by a fully armed Shinobi which her friends and teacher was killed and in the process her Sharingan and then her Mangekyou has appeared and she killed everyone and then a ninja from Konoha saw it all. A 10 year old girl killed an army . Her Susano'o barely was barely complete but it did not failed to protect her. When growing up and rising to rank Jonin she and her brother Itachi become Anbu together.She was then imprisoned by Danzo and sealed her never to be seen by anyone after the massacre of her clan, but years later she was released by the man named 'Madara' and recruited her to Akatsuki. She has hidden herself to anyone but her brother and the organization,but when the war has come she revealed herself and was killed by the hands of Kaguya Otsutsuki but unbeknownst to Kaguya, Y/n was the reincarnation of her.

Upon arriving to Valhalla and meeting Brunhilde she found herself at Japanese Pantheon. Reuniting with many familiar faces that she knows back at her own world, the world of Shinobi and her love ones.

When hearing the news of the rise of the demons, she created an association together with the Demon Slayers and Valkyries and Humanities Champions(during the selection). The leaders Herself, Ubuyashiki and Brunhilde became the three main leaders of the association that will ensure the safety of all the beings.

The association was created even before the announcement of eradication of humanity or even the meeting of all the Gods.

Going back, The three main leaders has planned upon the following and the group that will be called :

Alpha squadron consist of all Shinobi together guarding the Swordsmiths and are assigned to go around every pantheons secretly and investigate if there are demons or suspicious around and will kill in secrecy. This squadron has 3 sector :

the Cavaliers who will kill without any hesitations and is grouped to any squadron or group. They are mostly assigned to protect and/or assassinate.

The Revolutionists consist of Akatsuki members but they are the group who will want changes as they all want to go against the Gods since they want to eradicate humanity they are assigned sometimes for negotiations or stealing. Some of them only agreed because they were going to be paid(hi kakuzu) they are the ones who are also called Protestants. They are mostly assigned to protest and to spread rumors.

The Investigators most likely consist of all kages but there are some who are not kages and is assigned to find any traces of Demons around and any suspicious people.

Beta squadron consist of Demon Slayers the ones who will hunts down Demons along with the Cavalier group. Yoriichi tsugikuni, Michikatsu tsugikuni, Lady Tamayo and Yushiro has also become a part of the corps ever since knowing that demons still roam around.

Delta consist of Human Champions(even Buddha is allowed) and Valkyries they are the ones on the spotlight. It was supposedly only the Valkyries but then the eradication of humanity was announced.

But then Brunhilde, Lord Ubuyashiki and Y/n found their selves at the presence of the creators of their world. Along with Nyx, her husband Erebus ,along with the Titans and the rest of the creators has blessed those who are to protect everyone. Which Blessed all those who are in the association. Especially. You.

The Alpha and Beta squad is not to be seen, they are only the darkness and shadow of the Delta squad. They are the ones who will guard down the whole place and every pantheons and never to be seen. No one, not even the Gods has noticed their existence. Except to the God of Underworld.

But before the creation of the association, she asked Brunhilde if she can work at the Norse Pantheon to which she agreed. And informed the Gods rather late.

Her duty at the Norse Pantheon is a maid which was quickly makes everyone question...even Odin was left questioning as to why such a human herself wound want to work...since...working there would be endless. And no human can last forever. or are they?

And the eyes of the Storm meets the incarnation of Otsutsuki Kaguya.

|

[four-loose-screws]

FE2 Novelization Translation - Prologue

If you would like to start from the beginning, read a missed part, etc., click here!

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———————————

Prologue

Darkness ravaged the sky.

Sometimes, a bright light flickered in that darkness and made a noise like that of a silver sword, as if writhing at the sudden realization of its own ugliness.

Beings with the ability to breathe fire knew their flames drew this darkness in closer, and also that the flames of their enemy’s suffering raged beyond trails as crimson red as blood.

The overwhelming waves of their screams, sobs, and wails blended with the great rumbling of the thunder splitting the sky, as dark clouds spewed forth lightning.

Raindrops as thick as an ancient tree trunk pelted the ground and ran across the earth, their muddy streams as fierce as a dragon, bending the knees of those clad in armor.

And the storm blew mercilessly against the dead, unfolding their arms their friends had placed at their chests, and scattering the flowers offered to them.

Why were the heavens going so mad that they birthed such a pure darkness and violent thunderstorm? If units are born to fight, then why were the heavens so angry?

Because the burden units bear is to plot the right course of history and fate. Nothing more, nothing less. They are not actually born to fight.

The heavens were angry at themselves for bestowing upon units a fate in which they are forced to perpetually fight.

ー

…That is the tale of those who fight. From the moment they are born from their mother's womb, they already bear the tragic burden of the tale told by those called units.

They believe with all of their hearts in the path they walk, and continuously fight, not once ever compromising with those who would block their path. It is a pure, genuine way of life, and the people honor that purity. That is how those who fight became known as units, from unity, as they unite people together.

Units. Why did the people decide they were different, and choose to call them by a separate name? Because they are such absolute and perfect human beings that 'unit' came to take on its own meaning. Although sometimes, that definition is filled with the sadness of their utter loneliness.

Units are the children of the two gods that founded the continent of Valentia in ancient times, Earth Mother Mila and War Father Duma, polar opposites of each other. Strange as it is, the units, both those that become enemy and ally, at the same time, and with the same devotion, worship those two gods.

Their worship is not only the method that grants them skills of the soul, brings their soul peace, and makes their soul stronger. Devoting themselves to the gods both changes their souls and immediately resculpts their bodies.

Their devotion to Earth Mother Mila and War Father Duma is the foundation for their strong bodies, combat prowess, and sometimes even their abilities to control sacred beasts. They exist on another level far higher than any normal human could achieve. Their great power is Mila's will for them, and their lust for battle is Duma's. Each unit's will becomes one with that of the gods, and they undergo a transformation not unlike a caterpillar's metamorphosis into a butterfly.

One example of a unit is the 'Cavalier,' a type of knight that attacks their enemies from atop a sacred horse. A Cavalier can become a 'Paladin,' which grants them new combat abilities and even greater mobility. Finally, they can ascend to another level even further beyond that, 'Gold Knight,' which turns their internal organs the color of gold. For those who become Gold Knight, both the unit themself and their sacred horse can breathe normally even under water.

That is the basic nature of their transformations into higher beings, which the units call "transcendence."

Despite any differences between them, all units hold the same belief in the two gods. That belief is the basis for their desire to transcend into higher beings, and the hard work they devote themselves to every day towards achieving their ultimate combat form.

But if that is so, then why must units fight each other? If you ask them, the answer they will likely give you, and the one they believe in, is this: though no one remembers why or when it started, history has always divided humanity into the defeated and those who defeated them. And so, the question traces back once again to ancient times. And if we ask ourselves who weaves history, then we find ourselves directing the question towards the gods. The two gods that founded the continent of Valentina are polar opposites. They created the units, and so none other than Duma and Mila themselves could be the answer as to who gave units their fate that forces them to fight each other.

Though she fought, Mila's true purpose was creation, and so she grieved the need for war, instead desiring to rule her country through kindness and love. Hers is the gentle and beautiful Kingdom of Zofia.

In direct contrast, Duma believes that war nurtures people like milk does a baby, and desires to rule a country guided by that ideal. His is the Rigelian Empire, home of countless valiant knights.

Because Valentina was the world birthed by two such gods as Duma and Mila, they were fated to rule as polar opposites over the north and the south. Zofia was established in the lands to the south, and Rigel the lands of the north. And so, as Valentina was one continent home to two nations incompatible in their ways of life, it became necessary to establish a treaty.

The Divine Accord stated that the two nations must understand each other - or at least ignore each other - and one must never invade the other. Duma and Mila, unaware of the characteristics of human nature, formed this vow called the Divine Accord, and ruled over Valentina.

But Duma and Mila are different. They had always been different. When water and oil are put together in a pot, they repel each other, separate, then stabilize. At first, they exist in harmony. But once the oil becomes dirty, the water becomes dirty. The boundary between them gradually disappears, and they mix. The resulting liquid becomes cloudy and muddy where the two meet, causing the two incompatible personalities to sharpen the fearful fangs they bear towards each other.

The Divine Accord was nothing more than a short-lived illusion. This mistake of theirs caused Mila and Duma to once again become hostile towards each other.

Meaning that Valentina was now on the verge of its most violent war yet since the dawn of its history.

[annawayne]

Victorian AU The lady and the gardener.

All boundaries are made by people for people. The curved line on the map leads to a conflict between countries, the wooden fence marks the boundary of someone's mansion, the old bridge divides the city into two different world, the social status dictates how to live and tries to kill even hints of love between two from different worlds. But there are no barriers to love- it's like the wind wanders around, invisible and full of force. Someone is blessed with the gentle breeze of quiet life, while others find themselves in the untamed tornado of passion. Sometimes, it's the instant blow, like a spark - blinding chaos of sensations. At times, it's the steady air of slow burn, but periodically it fades away like the strong tempest dissolve into the calmness. Then there are times when it's just the oxygen to breath, the natural, essential, element of living. That's why the wild wind brought them together, carrying their hearts above all the obstacles and barricades.

The weight of the noble name of Leonhart was always one of Annie's the heaviest accessories - it hangs on her shoulders like the iron shall, each letter engraving into her skin like the permanent ink without a way to wash it away, dictating her surroundings and her future. But love doesn't ask as it sinks further, right there, where each erratic ta-BUM is ready to rip apart her ribs when she sees the blond mop, the hazel eyes and the warmest smile of her father's mansion gardener.

Their secret relationship smells like the morning fog, when they meet in the maze Armin takes care of; it hides in the almost ghost glance across the room when they're surrounded by people; it wanders in the velvet touch of the shadows; in longing kisses between the green of the garden; in sweat on their bare bodies when one of them sneak into the room of another.

Their love - forbidden by society and blessed by nature - doesn't witness sunny rays or clear sky, but every time Annie puts roses in her hair and on her hat, she knows they will carry their affection beyond any borders this life forces onto them. Only she knows the gorgeous field of roses, the snowy with the feeble hint of blues, he is growing for her and her only.

Armin found this sort some years ago, and, following his words, he "wanted her to have something to remember him even when he is not by her side". It started as a small bush, such a contrast between crimson red and sunrise orange roses as if in the middle of the gorgeous richness of autumn colors suddenly the winter decided to appear with snow. However, Armin didn't stop - just at the end of the plant maze, there's a spot of their secret dates under the weeping tree, and it's flooding now in the sea of roses .

Annie would pick a few flowers from the bouquets Armin presents her with a shy smile while avoiding her gaze. He would mumble something about how sorry he is about not giving her something more beautiful, about his clothes she knew he always wears the best of them on their dates, being so shallow, something about being a commoner, something… Something, that doesn't matter for her, because when others give her their artificial attention, Armin gave her his soul and body, when someone presents her a small flower, he gives her a whole field.

Even when the palm of someone who her father wants to see as her husband touches her waist in a dance during the ball, even when the dull compliments like the script from the cheap novel fly from the mouth of another potential cavalier her father sent, even when their clothes are so heavy decorated like the palace, even…even in every circumstance, Annie wears roses he grows for her and silently declares to everyone that her heart already belongs to someone. All these gallants would say her eyes are the sky, the ocean, the lake, the winter…but only her Armin knows the truest color of her eyes.

"The moonlight crystal", he says in a lazy whisper, brushing some wet strands from her flushed face. Her bare frame shines in the silky haze of the night, breaking through the window of his small cabin at the end of the mansion yard, and the smile, her genuine one, adorns her face with the sensible lace of her sincere affection. And when someone at the ball would ask about the name of the roses in her hair, Annie would tilt her chin, a proud smile would curve her lips, and the words, full of adoration and respect, would fly like petals,

"The moonlight crystal".

BONUS Victorian photo version,

[hyakilove129]

Part 1

En español

Bueno unos garabatos que hice cómic no me salieron muy bien ya que iba en taxi

in English

Well, some doodles that I did comic did not come out very well since I was in a taxi

Part 2

En español

Bueno beacon ya no le tiene tanto miedo a absorbó pero cavalier si

Absorbo lad trata de llevarse mejor con ellos ahora solo es una pequeña visita le pone incómodo beacon

in English

Well beacon is no longer so afraid of absorbed but cavalier is

I absorb lad tries to get along with them better now it's just a small visit makes him uncomfortable beacon

[hoshinoyozora]

The Mermaid’s Demon

🖤 Pairing: Yandere! Jade Leech x Female! Reader

💛 Word Count:

❤ Warnings: -

[Edited]

Do not re-upload my writing to another website or use it without my permission. Also, don’t ask for a sequel unless I like the story enough to write one. Please reblog so other people can see my stories!

***

Reading A Long Fatal Love Chase by Louisa May Alcott and hhgghh let’s just say the antagonist really inspired me to write this.

“I’m neither good nor bad. I’m simply an adaptable person.”

Was Jade’s cavalier reply as you hunched over the bodies on the sea floor. Your poor, pitiful parents who had been adamant not to marry you off to him just to repay their humongous debt, now had to exchange it for something much more valuable than your consent. Your brother, who had tried to protect you behind his valiant body, eventually succumbed to the same fate as your parents.

It wasn’t their fault. Jade simply had the advantage of having magic, on top of his vast and frightening influence to restrict your family from any possible exit.

In your tearful rage you’d called him ‘evil’, but Jade defended himself with the confounding easiness and the contemptible amusement of a man who didn’t fear the consequences of his actions. He might as well find joy in them, for he abhorred predictability beneath his unruffled demeanor.

“And your parents failed to repay their debt, so it’s unfair for you to accuse me of being ‘evil’.” he paused, then smiled. The sadistic glow in his eyes overshadowed his bioluminescent body, and you wondered if he was the demon that you overheard so many humans feared. “Don’t you think so, Wife?”

“No, I will not be your wife! I refuse!”

“Your parents said that, and look at where it led them. Perhaps you haven’t learned the lesson yet?”

He grinned wickedly, showing off a row of sharp teeth. It was a sight that spooked you more than facing a shark head-on, for a mindless beast was still better than an astute criminal. Still, you dug your nails into the sand and fought the urge to cower.

“Well?”

“Screw you.” you hissed. “I’d rather die than marrying you.”

The grin vanished, and you almost preferred it to stay for his seriousness forebode misfortune upon your already wretched self.

“Do you even know what you’re saying right now?”

You gulped, but you remained steadfast.

Jade closed his eyes and shrugged.

“Alright, if that’s what my wife wants.”

A flash of light, and your ears rang as you slowly felt yourself falling onto the sand. Glancing to your left, you saw a wisp of blood floating like a crimson ghost. Your hand went to touch your side, and pain shot up to your spine.

It hurt.

“I’m not the most merciful person, but I ask you again.”

You looked up, discerning Jade hovered over you with his magic pen poised.

Did he just… shoot you with his magic?

“Do you really want to die?”

You gaped at him, still stunned.

“Even if you refuse to answer, you’ll still die from either bleeding or eaten by other fish.”

Sadly, you had no time to answer for your consciousness failed you, and you were left under his complete mercy.

***

“Good morning, Wife.”

Jade’s simper was the first thing to greet you as you fluttered your eyes open. A bandage around your stomach hindered your movement slightly, but he helped you rest against the headboard.

“Where am I?” you rasped, scanning the cold and spacious room.

He hummed and handed you a glass of water, affirming your suspicion of his ownership.

“Why, you’re in our room, of course.”

You glared at him through the rim of the glass.

“Father isn’t very pleased about my choice to marry you, but I’m sure he’ll change his mind once he meets you.”

“And what if he won’t?”

Jade shrugged.

“Then, there’s nothing he can do about it.”

“You’re awfully persistent.” you hissed. “I don’t even know you beyond being a debt collector and my family’s murderer.”

“Still sensitive about it, aren’t we?” he sneered, arousing the indignation that lay dormant from your faint. “Let’s just say, fiery people pique my fancy, because they make docile spouses once handled properly.”

You ground your teeth.

“You will not break my spirit.”

Jade chuckled.

“That’s alright. I love the chase as well. I think it adds to the romance,” The sadistic glow in his eyes returned, and though he was a regular merman in the eyes of the humans, he was a demon in yours. “and it makes the reward all the sweeter.”

[chipen]

drip, drip, drip .. the fall of droplets against concrete fills the air, you can hear the splatter of it as it collides against the hard surface, how it alters the color from grey to a dark crimson. all you can think as you look at this is 'it'll stain'. sure, the rain will wash most of it away soon, when the storm clouds fill the sky and cleanse the earth again, but until then, it'll still be stained; a remanent of this incident will be left, an imprint of what occurred. you stand up on jellified legs, clenching your teeth together when a flare of pain erupts in your knee (either you landed too harsh or your arthritis is acting up again). you can feel a warmth spread 'cross face as the blood trickles down from exposed wound on forehead, spilling down your face in thin streams. the wooziness that blood loss brings is there but you ignore it. like always, you push onwards, acting almost indifferent about the whole affair. " i do it just for you. " monotone voice still manages to retain that sarcastic lilt, reaching up to swipe at brow line with sleeve, annoyed that you'll have to handwash your costume once your home to get that blood out of it. your hands will freeze from the cold water as you try and get very bit of blood out (which is made harder by the dark fabric of it). you sigh a bit just knowing you won't be sleeping much at all. your gaze finally settles onto him, no longer occupying eyes with bloody cement or the wetness of your sleeve, face void of emotion as you wait for him to speak. the silence doesn't bother you as it blankets over, used to the feeling and finding comfort in the quiet; you weren't much of a conversationist anyways. though, the metallic scent in the air is starting to get to you a little and it's taking everything in you not to lean against the wall, a slight tremble from exhaustion and pain. / con't @bulletshot

RARE  -  THESE  DAYS,  THAT  YOU  CHOOSE  TO  TAKE  the  night  shift.  but  sometimes  the  memories  curdled  beneath  the  skin  like  spoiled  milk,  sometimes  that  same  dream  haunts  you  over  and  over  again,  and  the  empty  house  with  only  your  eldest  son's  shrine  greets  you  when  you  come  home.  it's  better  to  be  away.  you  see  it  their  faces,  and  it's  undoubtedly  better  for  you  in  the  end  too.  but  that  doesn't  mean  you're  not  chased  out  the  front  door  by  phantoms,  back  into  the  city  streets  at  one  am  with  the  comforting  heat  of  your  flames  the  only  balm.  on  nights  like  this  -  the  sky  yawns  wide  and  sheds  tears  for  the  lives  you  wrecked  with  bare,  open  palms.

but  he's  the  one  bleeding.

you  stare  down  at  him  -  blue  eyes  lit  stark  beneath  the  curtain  of  your  flame.  steam  rises  from  your  body  beneath  water  droplets,  and  your  youngest  son's  illustrious  teacher  looks  the  part  of  a  bloody  wet  cat.  he's  never  without  his  verbal  sabers  though,  and  for  that  you  feel  no  small  amount  of  respect  as  well.

❝ if  you  wanted  my  attention,  you  could  have  just  called. ❞  it's  almost  like  a  joke  -  except  you  don't  really  do  that,  not  anymore.  instead  -  you  dull  the  flames  upon  your  body,  reaching  out  with  cavalier  intent.  the  flame  patterned  cloth  is  produced  from  utility  pouch,  and  you  fold  it  neatly.  giant,  surprisingly  gentle  hands  smooth  away  inky,  blood  and  rain  damp  hair,  before  you  press  navy  cloth  to  that  leaking  wound.  you  step  closer,  unnatural  warmth  hopefully  a  balm,  before  turning  the  cloth  over  to  press  the  clean  side  to  the  still  leaking  cut.  ❝ not  too  deep,  but  judging  by  your  clothes  i  guess  you  took  other  hits. ❞  no  disapproval  -  just  a  statement  of  fact  -  and  you  pause  only  long  enough  to  glance  towards  the  rainy  night  sky.

❝ come,  my  agency  isn't  far. ❞  it's  not  really  a  suggestion,  but  he  should  be  grateful  you're  polite  about  it,  offering  a  steadying  arm  devoid  of  hellflame,  ❝ you'll  catch  your  death  out  here,  and  your  quirk  is  too  valuable  for  that. ❞

[gasha40k]

At long last! It’s been a while since my last post, although I’m sure I could probably start every post by saying that. Warhammer has taken a back-burner position in my life for the past few months. I haven’t played a game of 40k since October! If I’m honest, this is primarily because of money. I’ll spare everyone the rant and say that 40k’s prohibitively expensive nature has become, well, prohibiting, I guess. But that being said, the fixation always returns. And return it has! In the last however-many-months since my last post, I’ve spent most of my 40k time playing Kill Team and avoiding finishing my reading of Angron: The Red Angel, but I’ve done a little bit of fun stuff on the side that I’d like to share.

First time using colored primer went pretty well! Certainly saved me a lot of time and Mephiston Red paint

Angron is progressing! Since my last post I’ve primed him and most of his subassemblies. I’m painting him sort of in half, with his left arm and wing detached, as well as his bronze armor plating. I’m doing this so that I can get in and color the backsides of his wings properly.

This guy has been a big challenge so far. A model this large is both imposing and resource-intensive, and I’ve done literally no painting as of recent, so I’m likely not going to finish him for a long while, but I’m excited for when I eventually do.

Formerly known as Urayen’s Reavers, the Eclipse Cavaliers are a band of opportunistic Aeldari Corsairs who all seek one thing and one thing alone: profit

Moving on. As I mentioned previously, I started playing Kill Team this year, and I gotta say, KT fucking rocks! The rules are super approachable and the small scale of the game allows for much more focused and cinematic battles. It’s also a lot quicker, which makes it much easier to get pickup games in, which means I can actually play some 40k sometimes nowadays.

These xenos boys are known as the Eclipse Cavaliers. They’re a band of scumbag Corsairs and my squad of choice. I’ve written a lot of backstory for these boys so as to texture my games a bit more for myself, so I’m gonna put all that stuff in another post where I can talk about these characters in a bit more detail.

The 2nd Company is lead by the boisterous Captain Zaraf Gorfried Redfale. They specialize in the utilization of heavy war implements, such as Gravis armor, tanks, and artillery vehicles

Now that we’re onto more conceptual subject matter, I’ve been doing a lot of thinking about how the Thunderbearers actually function as a Chapter. Each Company of the Thunderbearers controls a massive warfleet—much larger than the average fleet of most Successor Chapters—and acts as a semi-autonomous fighting force in and of itself, with the ability to prosecute independent campaigns so long as they remain aligned and in accordance with the Chapter as a whole. The 1st Company is functionally the “core” of the Chapter, made up of the Chapter’s command fleet, veteran company, and portions of the 10th.

The 2nd Company is technically the first of the Chapter’s autonomous fighting forces, and they’re also the only Company for which I own a Captain (the big Gravis fucker who I show off pretty often). The 2nd Company’s culture can largely be sourced to that of a feudal desert world known as Manticore. As the 2nd Company makes up a good amount of the Chapter’s infantry regiments, I felt it necessary to give them their own heraldry.

The special heraldry on their armor pays respect to Manticore in a few different ways. First and foremost, the red armor is a visual homage to the cold, crimson dunes that cover Manticore, but secondarily, it is a holdover tradition that comes from Manticoran warrior culture, wherein it was standard practice to color one’s armor with any number of red pigments so as to camouflage themselves in the dunes. Over time, different colorations of red grew to signify different things, with the 2nd Company’s crimson and gold coming to represent wealth and nobility.

I think that having a squad or two with a splash of red will really make my Space Marines pop out a little bit, and will definitely add some variation into my annoyingly uniform army. I’m thinking of doing little streaks of red on a few of the vehicles, as well, which will make them stand out too.

Speaking of vehicles, the Thunderbearers have received some reinforcements!

This is a Ballistus Dreadnought that I got my hands on through a friend of mine who was selling his Astartes. I kitbashed him a little but tried not to overdo it with the baubles, since my Redemptor is a bit of a piece. Design-wise, I tried to make this a sort of “Primaris update” of one of my first models, Big Harold.

The Aurum Eternatus, one of the Chapter’s most sanctified relics, is a Venerable Dreadnought whose chassis contains the body of the previous fallen Chapter-Master

The thing that I like the most about the Venerable Dreadnought is the ornate look to it. It’s got a lot of trim and fancy panels everywhere and kind of looks like a church-mech.

This aesthetic choice is most noticeable in the lascannon, in my opinion. Combined with the gold trim, the cool indented archway designs on the side panel of the las sorta gives “Gothic castle wall.”

While I couldn’t really replicate the trim, I did use a bunch of bits from the Venerable Dreadnought kit to up the Gothic factor. There’s also a noticeable lack of purity seals on Big Harold, which was something that I absolutely had to remedy. There’s 7 seals! Now we’ve got a proper 7-times blessed Primaris-scale lascannon to snipe tanks with.

Harold has sort of fallen out of use in my lists recently because, uh, Venerable Dreadnoughts do not exist anymore. Awesome! The older Dreads just aren’t as good as Redemptors as well, so Harold has sort of retired to a more ritualistic position on the Chapter.

In his stead, though, we’ve got quite a few new additions to the army alongside our Ballistus. Not included here is another drop pod and a bunch of new infantry units.

Sternguard Veterans of the Thunderbearers 1st Company

Here’s one of ‘em! This is my first squad of Sternguard Veterans, but I’m in the process of building another. Like the Ballistus, these dudes are as of yet unnamed, but I like them quite a bit! To be critical, though, I think I overdid it with some of the bits, but I’m sure the silhouettes will look less obnoxious once they’re all painted and voluminous.

My favorite of the bunch is probably the Veteran Sergeant. His heroic pose and classic bits give “default Space Marine.” And the Veteran on the left is using a bit of a unique shoulder pad that may or may not be a cleansed and sanctified Chaos relic, which may or may not be a common practice in the Thunderbearers Reclusiam Cataegis.

Next post will include the Eclipse Cavaliers and a new Thunderbearers character guy.

[ariesgamesandminis]

Restocks are up from Iron Wind Metals!

20-181 Liberator Cruiser 20-250 Anubis ABS-3L 20-264 Marauder MAD-9S / MAD-5R 20-278 Heavy Hover APC (Standard) (2) 20-289 Daimyo DMO-1K 20-300 Odin Scout Tank (Standard) (2) 20-309 Blizzard Hover Transport (Standard) (2) 20-332 Behemoth "Stone Rhino" 2 20-346 Crimson Hawk 20-396 Avatar AV1-O Prime 20-418 Huron Warrior HUR-WO-R4L 20-440 Fireball ALM-7D / ALM-8D 20-474 Peregrine Attack VTOL 20-5010 Koschei KSC-3I 20-5030 Onager 20-5054 Mjolnir MLR-B2 20-5082 Gyrfalcon (Standard) 20-5093 Lament LMT-2R 20-5094 Jackalope JLP-BD 20-5096 Dragon II DRG-11K 20-5130 Kheper KHP-7R 20-5168 Vixen 6 20-5207 Black Knight BL-9KNT 20-5214 Jade Phoenix Prime 20-628 Athena Combat Vehicle (Standard) (2) 20-655 Fire Scorpion 20-690 Owens OW-1 20-723 Warrior Helicopter H-7 20-752 Canis (Standard) 20-756 Akuma AKU-1X 20-793 Hollander BZK-F3 20-800 Hex Bases (4) 20-818 Drillson Heavy Hover Tank (2) 20-854 Hunchback HBK-4G 20-913 Perseus P1 Prime 20-941 Men Shen MS1-O Prime 20-977 Cestus CTS-6Y 20-9122 Battleforce Hex Base 99-201 Large Flat Top Hex Base #1 99-202 Large Flat Top Hex Base #2 AC-010 Large Cast Stem BT-007 Rottweiler Battle Armor BT-028 Cavalier Battle Armor BT-029 Sloth Battle Armor BT-031 Infiltrator MK 2 BT-063 Track Bike BT-067 Golem Battle Armor BT-120 Sabutai Mech Scale Fighter BT-134 Gray Death Legion Battle Armor BT-164 Tracker Surveillance BT-189 Kobold Battle Armor BT-199 Asura Md. Battle Armor BT-224 Heavy Jump Infantry BT-231 Ironhold Battle Armor BT-237 Recon Infantry BT-238 VTOL Infantry BT-239 Jump Support Infantry BT-256 Branth Aerial Beast Infantry - In Fight BT-276 Maxim Hover Tank (3058) BT-303 Vulture Mk III Prime BT-315 Chimera CMA-1S BT-319 Wheeled APC BT-320 Tracked APC BT-346 Griffin GRF-1A BT-350 Doloire DLR-OD BT-364 Gabriel Hovercraft BT-368 Cecerops Protomech BT-371 Davion Infantry (3) BT-372 Savannah Master Hovercraft BT-373 Centaur Protomech BT-375 Gorgon Protomech BT-381 Basic Inner Sphere Battle Armor (3) BT-383 Longinus Battle Armor (3) BT-385 Grey Death Legion Battle Armor (3) BT-386 Undine Battle Armor (3) BT-387 Gnome Battle Armor (3) BT-388 Salamander Battle Armor (3) BT-389 Purifier Battle Armor (3) BT-390 Fa-Shih Battle Armor (3) BT-391 Fenrir Battle Armor (1) BT-412 Amazon Battle Armor BT-436 Buraq (Standard) Battle Armor BT-466 Wheeled Scout (2) Closed & Open Top BT-476 Ares ARS-V1E Apollo FT-025 Samurai Mech Scale Fighter OP-013 Thor E ATM Pod OP-067 Puma E Pod OP-093 Fenris "Ice Ferret" D Left Arm RFLIICLTD-11 Limited Edition Rifleman IIC 8 20-208D Wolverine Antenna 20-393F Gladiator "Executioner" Prime Small Jump Jet Sprue 20-5182C Catapult CPLT-C1 Arm Sprue 20-5182D Catapult CPLT-K2 Arm Sprue 20-685C Bandit Hovercraft Gun Sprue 20-741H J-27 Thumper Tow Vehicle Gun 20-770B Axman AXM-1N Arms / Head Sprue 20-983MSR Mad Cat MK II Missile Rack 20-994D Marauder Bent Leg 20-994I Marauder Small Gun Sprue 20-994I Marauder Small Gun Sprue

[enarmor]

“ Sain. ”  The greeting is as it perhaps always is, but there is something slightly different to Kent's mood today. It is a bit embarrassed, a bit more lenient, perhaps a bit more lax, as he announces his reason for looking for him today.  “ Today's the Winter Festival. I hope you are keeping yourself out of trouble lately? ”

Not that he ever needed a reason to see the man. His question is filler, a way to allow himself to figure out the motions of conversing because he trusts Sain to pick up his slack. Some things take time. Some things take experience.

This one takes Sain's kindness, and for as much as Kent might exasperate himself looking over his fellow cavalier, he thinks the other man is just as patient with him in his own way as he always has been.

“ Stay out of trouble, and I might very well keep getting you gifts for seasons like these. ”  A fib, for he would still do it regardless.  “ ...It's been a while since we've last celebrated a holiday together, hasn't it? ”

He hands the man his gift in a bid to cover up his waxing nostalgic, mourning that it was the truth at all.  “ You're free to open it now, if you wish. ”

Underneath wrapping paper is a sleek box and inside is a small pocketwatch, chain and all. Its outer face bears the design of roses.

“ I don't think I need to tell you why I gave you this. ”  It's an exercise in keeping the man on a leash, in trying to train him to be more punctual and responsible as per usual, but...  “ ...However, I suppose I can confess that there's more to it than whatever you're thinking. ”

It's at that point Kent pulls out a similar pocketwatch out of his own outfit, holding it up for his other half to see.

“ You seemed keen to match when you first arrived here. So I also... ”

The pocketwatch Kent holds is not exactly the same. Instead of roses, his bears a design of lilies, but it's undeniable from even just a spare glance that the two were twins made by the same craftsperson.

Just the thought of it makes the Shield grow a bit more crimson in the tips of his ears.

“ ...Nevermind. I need not explain myself! ”

And he puts away his matching item, lest his embarrassment make itself any louder...

"Kent!" answers the Lance, his hand shooting up to the back of his head in tandem with him turning around. Instantly he's on his feet, trying to cover up what he had been fiddling around with before Kent arrived. The man speaks of 'trouble', which seems to make him skittish. Could there have been something sinister brewing?

He isn't the least bit surprised by Kent's gift--and on the contrary, had come to expect it--but the delivery throws him off. His shoulders slump and a frown quivers on his lips. To imagine the two of them, them, missing a holiday together... It's almost pathetic. That they missed a few, that it's been a while, stings worse. Sain finds himself wishing he could shake his younger self before he resigned from Ostia, that he could slap his face in the direction of Kent and show him what he would lose.

But the Shield continues, sort of stumbling his way through conversation as he normally does. He mentions a gift, and Sain sticks out his hand to receive it. The wrapping peels off very slowly, betraying the rip-and-tear one might expect from the roguish cavalier. This was touched by his partner's hand, though, and that makes it special. Special enough to want to keep it intact until it begins to rot.

"Ah, Kent..."

Once the lid pops off and the watch enters his grasp, he is overcome with emotion. Sain, after a moment of quiet, starts drowning in his own tears. They only wet his eyes like a soft and damp rag touching dabbing them down, but they feel like so much more. A torrent against a ship's hull, a storm over garden roses, a tidal wave dragging starfish back to sea. And Sain, too, feels like he's being dragged back. Back into the past, back into memories of Kent. It's almost like he could turn back the hands of his clock and he'd be there, and he'd see Kent too.

He's hardly being realistic.

But maybe that's not the point. Looking at his watch, and then its sister, and then his soul and then Kent's soul, Sain thinks he understands. Their days tick by the same second's hand. They'll never live a moment out of sync. They watch the turn of the same hour's hand, so no more will there be any 'while's where they haven't done this or anything else. And when they call for one another, when one says "I'll meet you in five," those are five ticks of the same minute's hand. They'll know exactly what the other means to say.

Sort of like now, how Sain knows that Kent means to say he wants them operating on this same rhythm. "...You always were kind of awful with words, weren't you?" he laughs, wiping his tears away as his umbrella of a smile opens over his mouth.

"You don't need to explain anything to me."

He reads his partner's intent to swallow the humiliation of this encounter, but dredges it back out of him by pulling him into a tight hug. It constricts his back, presses his chest, and lingers a few seconds longer than it should. There's a slight tremble as he pulls away.

Once he's finished, he gives the other a pat on the shoulder and a damp smile, and focuses back on what he was doing before his Shield arrived.

"Good timing, though! I've got something for you." Scooping one of two bundles off the bar table, he hands it off. "From now on, we're writing to each other! No more losing contact, no matter the distance."

He waits for Kent's gift to be opened first, then tears the wrapping off his and holds their sets together. They are each a stack of calligraphy papers and matching pens: red for Kent, green for Sain. The parchment, in addition to its color, sports a floral scent. This is the gift of space, where Kent had given him time. Now that their hearts beat as one and time won't keep them apart, the space between them will prove to be trivial. No matter where in the world they wind up, their letters will arrive--kept on-schedule by their matching pocket watches.

"Happy Winter Festival, partner... Let's never miss another one again."