#and i'm really glad those feelings resonate with you too!

[astrhae]

AO3 is down so I'll leave my comment here: your Jesper character study is a work of the saints. Lines like "He ended up liking the bright colors, wearing his grief on his sleeve and calling it fashion." and "A mirror, broken before he could ever see himself." and "To feel the quiver of its music and understand, at last, what worship meant."

You write the Crows with so much haunting tenderness and kind understanding -- it's safe to say your writing changed me and it's inspirational and I'll forever be thinking about it. Thank you.

aksdksdfkdsfkssdkdsk anon i'm. i just read this and needed to go scream for a bit. thank you so much, i really am glad you liked the fic 💛 i just thought of the jurda petals and bright colors and jesper and thought oh, he's grown up around so many colors and now he calls it fashion -- this fic was truly a trip to write, and in all of it, i only deleted one scene: a conversation between jesper and colm. here it is, just for you :)

"It might take years for the tree to blossom," Jesper frowned. Colm only shrugged, weary, but never too weary for him. "We tried for years to have a child." He reached out, his hand moving to cup Jesper's cheek, stopping just before fear became touch. "You were worth every wait." Jesper felt his chest fill, with more than just breath. Hollow spaces he didn't know he still carried. "You never told me." "I couldn't speak to you like your Ma could," Colm turned his hat around in his hand. An act lost in translation. "I didn't know how." "I didn't need you to be her," Jesper shook his head. How much time had they wasted? How much more did they have to lose? "Da," he swallowed down all his regret, all his bitterness. His mother had given him a blessing as his inheritance, but hadn't his father gifted him a birthright too? This heirloom of sacrifice, Kaelish seas traded for Zemeni skies, traded for Kerch colors. "Da," Jesper said. "I needed you." No, that wasn't quite right. "I wanted you," he could still hear his father sing requiem, Kaelish words he'd never understand, "I wanted you to come home, too."

[loppiopio]

the chances of the people seeing this aren't super likely so this is highly inefficient but i'm too afraid to approach people personally…. yet i've been burning with the need to express my gratitude for the tags i've received individually somehow and figured, i could do it the way i do best. in the tags 😅

(sorted by most recent) (i capped the limit hard here) (some ✂️✂️ had to be done 😔) (i still like this format a lot though) (might do this again in the future idk would people like that??) (i hope it's not mortifying for anyone……..)

it's sorta the way i like it, indirect and unimposing, even if it's kinda. wieldy. but it's just on my blog so anything goes right? although in saying that, i am open to being imposed on. like if someone wants to talk about aci or something, like other fic?? i'm a big fic fiend. or anything else lol not sure what else you'd wanna chat about since so much of the stuff i've put out is just. about fic. but hey, if you're a person i don't mind being approached :>

(lol the way i've made this like a *throws out a bunch of paper slips* find your's 🎉) (might be obnoxious hm) (sorry...) (find your's if you want though 🫡)

[yellowjestertfs]

The Seed is Strong

"Alright fuel up troops! We got more work to do after this." Mr. Walker dumped the contents of the large paper bag he held onto the table, scattering plastic forks, soy sauce packets, and fortune cookies. One cookie skittered across the table coming to rest directly across from Alex. 

"Look at that," his colleague Levi said clapping Alex on the shoulder. "It's fate you gotta eat it now!" 

"Really? Alex asked nervously. "But I haven't even had my meal yet, and what if there aren't enough for everyone."

Levi rolled his eyes. "I think it will be ok Best Buy. Just eat the damn cookie." Alex nodded and pinched both sides of the crinkly plastic, pulling it apart with his meager strength and freeing the cookie inside. The nickname “Best Buy" was a reference to Alex's job in IT and was one of the tamer things he had been called in his life. Fresh out of college with a computer science degree  Alex wasn't exactly a loser but he also wasn't the envy of many. His life was painfully mundane, except for what he had done last year, he shivered at the thought.

All through college Alex had a girlfriend named Stephanie. He thought he was going to spend the rest of his life with her until he got his heart broken. In an attempt to cheer him up Alex's idiot friend had gotten him a hooker. He had ended up mostly just crying in her lap but at the end of the night, the two had rather pathetic cry sex. The memory still haunted him.

Alex broke the fortune cookie in half and fished for the piece of paper resting in one of the halves. His lucky numbers weren't of much interest although 5 of the 6 numbers were prime. Neat! The words on the front made much less sense. 

"The seed is strong," It said in simple black text. 

"The seed is strong?" What the hell does that mean Alex thought to himself trying to puzzle it out? As in the earth? Was it saying he was going to have a good harvest? Or maybe it was a metaphor, to say that the good he did would become a seed and flourish that way? The whole thing was far too cryptic for math and science-minded Alex and yet the words somehow felt resonant, right. 

Levi leaned over Alex's shoulder to try and see what message had been inside the cookie. "The seed is strong." Alex read for him seeing his coworker could puzzle it out. 

"Yeah man, I know that's right!" Levi said a grin spreading across his face. He extended his hand in the way of the former frat bro expecting Alex to dap him up. Alex was not versed in those foreign ways and so ended up shaking his coworker's hand awkwardly. Levi smirked but turned away so Alex wouldn't see him laugh. 

Alex didn't have time to dwell on Levi's reaction or the awkwardness of the interaction as Delana, Mr. Walker's assistant began to call out orders. "Who got the beef and broccoli?"

Five minutes later a steaming box of orange chicken sat open in front of Alex. Yet despite the food, Alex found his mind wandering. "The seed is strong" "The seed is strong" What could it mean? And why did his groin feel weird? He felt a strange heaviness that he was not used to. Alex adjusted his legs trying to give more room for his package to breathe. Yet the pressure only built. Suddenly his off-the-rack trousers felt horribly constricting. 

As subtly, as he could Alex examined his pants and found a bulge protruding from his crotch, the size of which he wasn't used to. His immediate thought was of a cancerous tumor but he didn't think those grew spontaneously. No this felt like well, like his balls were bigger. Much bigger. But that was impossible, right?

The seed is strong.

NO

That couldn't be what it meant. Were fortune cookies allowed to be explicit? It would explain Levi's reaction. But no there had to be some other explanation. He was saved from his introspection by Brenda in accounting who waved him over. 

"Hey there Alex, it seems I'm having some computer troubles." 

Brenda had her caps locked on. 

"Glad I could help Brenda," Alex said graciously. It was not the first time she had made this mistake. 

"Thanks again. Guess it's back to the old grindstone." The company had been audited which meant all hands on deck. 

"Hopefully we can get this done by 5:00," Alex said starting to make his way back to his seat at the other side of the conference room.

"I sure hope so, gotta pick up the kids pretty soon. What about you Alex, got your kids covered?" Alex's eyes bugged so far out of his head that he was afraid they would fall out of his head and roll around on the carpeted floor. His mind was at war with itself. Most of him was loudly screaming that of course he didn't have kids, he wasn't even married. Yet a small voice said differently. 

The seed is strong

He had three kids, two from his college girlfriend and one from Debby the sex worked he had slept with. No no no that wasn't right that couldn't be. He wasn't a father. He always used protection and besides he couldn't support a family on an IT salary. Yet Alex couldn't get the faces out of his head. Two toddlers a boy and a girl and a newborn baby. 

In a panic, Alex burst out of the conference room and rushed into the men's bathroom. He tried to splash cold water on his face like in the movies but just ended up with water in his nose and stains on his shirt. Checking to make sure no one was in the stalls Alex undid his belt, unbuttoned his pants, and pulled down the zipper. 

Balls. What the fuck was wrong with his balls. They were huge, fist-sized swollen things. 

The seed is strong.

No. Alex could feel them churning. Could feel his body producing seamen. Inside millions of sperm swam inside begging to be free. Begging to serve their purpose and impregnate. What the Fuck?

The seed is st-

NO. Alex put his pants back on not even bothering to tuck his shirt in. He left the bathroom and started walking not even sure to where. He ended up at his desk. Action figures in their boxes, iPad charging on the window, and framed photos of his children. That was new. That couldn't be. And yet the physicality of it made the reality undeniable. His children.

The seed is strong.

Of course, he had children. For men with the last name Holden like himself, it was practically inevitable. Oh sure, you could try your best, birth control, and condoms for the whole nine yards. Yet very few things can stop the seamen of the Holdens. His father always said their swimmers just kept on swimming, that's why all the men of his family had such large balls. The hyper virility of their family accounted for why Alex was the youngest of 9 children, his poor mother. She often joked that his father was the most expensive fuck in the world, one night with him meant a mouth to feed for 18 years.

For a moment Alex had the image of himself as an only child but that was ridiculous. The seed was too strong for that.

Alex had tried to be careful, he really had. Yet the very first time he and his college girlfriend Stephanie had slept together, taking each other's virginity, she had ended up with a positive pregnancy test two weeks later. He had apologized profusely and suggested they might get rid of the child but Stephanie was religious and insisted on keeping it. Thus his first son, Liam, was born to an 18-year-old father and mother. Parenting in college was tricky but the two made it work. 

While Stephanie was pregnant the two had been able to be intimate, with some care of course. Yet once she gave birth Alex knew they had to stop. He had tried to explain the risks, that no matter how much protection they used the seed was strong. Stephanie hadn't believed and so their second child was born only 10 months after their first. Her name was Lila and she was a fussy enough baby that Stephanie took his words seriously. The two had parented together all throughout college and still remained close but the lack of intimacy doomed the relationship ultimately. 

Alex resigned himself to never having another sexual encounter after Stephanie, two kids was enough for him. That was until his friend hired a hooker. Her name was Debby. He had explained to her his plight and maybe cried a little, feeling down from a lack of intimacy. She had understood and offered to let Alex do butt stuff instead, something Stephanie had never allowed. Alex was all too happy to take her up on that offer and the two had gotten intimate. Alex was thrilled thinking he had found a loophole. That was until he got a call from Debby telling him he was going to have another child. He wasn't sure exactly how it worked. Maybe some of his spunk had somehow dripped down or maybe his sperm were so enthusiastic that they had swam the distance. Whatever the case Alex ended up a father of three from two different women. 

Ding

Alex got a text on his phone from someone named Christopher. "Miss your seed baby." 

What the hell? Who is Christopher? He almost texted that exact question to the number before he saw that this wasn't their first text. In fact, as he scrolled up and up and up it seemed their conversation went on seemingly forever. Alex's cheeks reeded as he saw quite a few naughty pictures of this Christopher, a handsome man with a prominent backside, he found he quite liked the photograph. What's worse Alex saw his own pictures sent on Christopher's request, specifically close-up pictures of his huge balls.

Three dots appeared showing Christopher was typing again. "I need you to load me up, Daddy." This text was followed by two eggplant emoji and a squirt emoji. Whoever this Christopher was he sure was persistent. Of course, most of the men that Alex slept with grew somewhat addicted to his seed. Wait that's not right he wasn't gay? 

The seed is strong

Of course, he was. Or at least he slept with exclusively men now. It was being with Debby that had made him realize. His dick just felt right sitting in the tight confines of an ass. That moment of self-discovery had been life-changing for Alex. He had gone on something of a sexual rampage after that. It felt so good to be able to finally let loose and fuck with abandon. His seed yearned to be spread, and he had done so, thankfully without the risk of a new life emerging from it. 

Christopher was the closest thing Alex had to a boyfriend, although he was more like a long-term fuck buddy. Christopher often joked about how the two had first met. He said he could smell Alex's potent seed from a mile away and that he followed the scent like a cartoon character, nose in the air feet off the ground. 

Alex had been told he had a particular scent. It was his seed, of course, leaking from his balls like steam from hot soup. Not everyone had a nose for it, but to those who did it was like a drug. Christopher was something of a bloodhound for it. 

One night when Christopher was going on and on about how much he loved Alex's seed and how good it smelled and tasted, like "the raw essence of a man" were his exact words, Alex had told him of his father. He was a waterfall to Alex's trickle. Their house used to reek of seed and testosterone, especially when the 7 boys of the family reached maturity and grew Holden balls. Christopher had cum on the spot. Ever since he had been begging to be invited to a family reunion. 

Ding 

Another text. Alex expected it to be Christopher with more pleading for his seed but instead, it was from Stephanie. A picture of their son, Liam, dressed in a football uniform standing on a grassy field. How cute, must be at one of his Little League games. Yet something felt off. As he stared at the pixels on his screen he could swear he watched them move, shift. The kid in the picture was far too old. He looked more like he was in middle school. No that wasn't a middle schooler in the picture, he had the body of a grown man, and was that a college logo on his uniform? Alex's eyes widened as he noticed the sizable bulge in the football pants. He shut off his phone. 

The seed is strong.

Where was he? He had been at his desk, right? It was a tiny thing, shoved at the back of the office with no windows, mostly just a box for him to wait at until people could come to him with their IT concerns. Except he wasn't there now; no IT person had this nice of a setup. He was in a corner office, two walls made up entirely of glass, showing off the expansive city skyline that their tall building afforded. Alex blinked. His belongings were on the desk, mahogany rather than plywood. Action figures in their boxes, an iPad on the window, and pictures of his children in their frames. Liam and Lilia at their high school graduations and a picture of his youngest at prom, Brandon. It felt like just yesterday Debby had given birth to him, so why did that kid look so old? 

"Mr. Holden they're on the line," Delana said poking her head into the office. Wasn't she Mr. Walker's assistant, his boss? But no he didn't have a boss, how could someone with an office this nice have a boss? Hesitantly Alex picked up the phone and was met with a cacophony of greetings.

"It's good to have some senior management on this call." A man said, voice slightly distorted from the phone.

"Yes thank you so much for your time, Alexander. We will be brief," said a woman who he felt like he should know.

The two went back and forth talking about shareholders and market strategy all of which went over his head. He instead spent his time scratching his balls which seemed to have swollen even larger. He would need to empty them soon. His seed was made to be spread and got impatient rather quickly. Maybe he would take Christopher up on his request. He could leave work a bit early today, who would stop the boss?

"Mr. Holden, are you still with us?" 

"Oh umm yes yes. Everything sounds great keep up the good work." With that, he hung up the phone. He felt knowledge flooding into his brain, business experience, and social contacts that an IT person had no business knowing. Only he wasn't IT, he hired people to be his IT. He was the top dog of this company. The company that did"¦ he couldn't remember. He would do work tomorrow, right now he was feeling strangely out of sorts, like he didn't belong. 

Alexander stood up on legs that felt too long. He had always been tall but now he felt like a lumbering giant. He was glad for his height, Liam and his other son Brandon were getting far too tall for his liking. Not quite the height of good old dad but definitely too tall for him to put them on his lap. Lila wasn't a slouch either, 5'10, and nearly her brother's height when she wore heels. The thought of his children made him smile, they really were his pride and joy. They had inherited his blond hair, did he have blond hair? Of course, he did, although it was turning silver with age. The rest of his siblings had dark hair like his father but he had inherited his mother's golden locks and passed them onto his children, along with his angular face and tall stature. That wasn't to say that the children didn't have anything from their other parents. Liam had his mother's heart-shaped face, freckles, and warm green eyes, while Lila had inherited Stephanie's wavy hair and intelligence. Brandon his youngest had gotten his other mother's darker complexion and her rebellious spark.

He was something of a bad boy. With tattoos up one arm a handsome face and the soul of a tortured artist, Alex always knew he would be swimming in sexual opportunities. He had tried to explain to him the Holden inheritance. Alex tried to give the same speech his father had, telling his youngest about the strong seed of their family. Alex hadn't listened and neither had Brandon, at least not until he had gotten two girls pregnant. He had been sticking to sex with men ever since, the perks of bisexuality, although Alex suspected there would be a few more grandchildren in his future before his youngest got it all out of his system.

It felt right to be a grandfather, although it seemed only a few hours ago he didn't even have children of his own.

The seed is strong.

Liam his oldest also had children. He was far more restrained than his younger brother though. Liam had settled down with a nice woman a few years older than him who had been married before. She had tried for children with her old husband but after years of trying had resigned herself to being unable to have children. That was until she was with a Holden man. Now they had three children and she was pregnant with a fourth. Liam had confessed to Alex that his wife had gotten pregnant the first time the two had ever been intimate which didn't surprise Alex in the slightest. 

That left only Lila without children of her own. Where Liam had heart and Brandon had soul Lila had gotten all the brains. With a razor tongue and a mind for business, Alex suspected her only child would be the company she was building. Yet who was to say, maybe one day she would end up having children? If she had a boy someone would have to warn her to expect quite a few grandchildren of her own. 

Alex- no Alexander made his way out of the office. He was far too dignified to go by a childhood nickname. Three grown children, how had he become an old man? He passed a mirror and examined his reflection. Square had handsome features, a tall frame, and muscles that pushed out his suit pleasingly. Maybe not quite an old man yet. He puffed up his substantial chest. How many grandfathers could bench 250 lbs?

Come to think of it all brothers currently could, even his oldest brother Mark, who was a great-grandfather at only age 60. Ha. Yet another thing passed on by the Holdens. High metabolism and the genetic potential for substantial musculature. Alex had always suspected it had something to do with their over-productive testicles pumping in an excess of testosterone, although Lila was surely no slouch. Alexander fondly remembered how she could beat both her brothers in arm wrestling contests as children whenever it was his turn to have custody of the kids. 

Still, it was his sons who had inherited the rippling muscular physique of the Holden men. Liam was the larger of the two mostly due to playing football in high school and college. After he graduated Liam started taking his physique seriously and competed in a few bodybuilding shows. Alexander remembered the horror of realizing his 220 lbs son was bigger than him. That caused Alex to redouble his efforts at the gym. That coupled with the fact that Liam stopped competing after he settled down had restored Alexander to the top of the food chain where he belonged. That wasn't to say that Liam let himself go. Liam maintained an admirable body, one that he had confessed to his father made fitting in with the other dads difficult, a sentiment which Alexander could relate to.

"Dad, it's like every dude either wants to feel me up and ask me to be their personal trainer or takes it as an insult and acts like a dick". In Alexanders case, most of the dicks had ended up sucking his but that type of advice could never work for noble pure-hearted Liam. Brandon on the other hand rated perfectly to his father's more horny tendencies. While he didn't have his brother's brutish size Brandon was toned good arms adorned with plenty of tattoos and the abs that only a young man could have. He had done several perfume commercials displaying those abs and his notable bulge across billboards in Times Square to Alexander's shock and secret pride. 

The seed is strong. 

"Are you heading out Mr. Holden?" A young man holding a clipboard asks as Alexander makes his way to the elevator."

"I am Shayne. nature calls, I’m sure you understand." A wide grin split the youth's face and he nodded. Alexander had long suspected Shayne's lineage but looking at him now it seemed undeniable. Tall with a brawny build, Shayne had brown inquisitive eyes, short sandy blond hair, and a well-trimmed dirty blond beard covering his square jaw. To put it bluntly, he was the spitting image of Alexander in his youth. The final clue of course lay beneath the kids well ironed slacks. 

Without violating company policy or his own ethical code as a boss Alexander had tried to check out his new intern's package. Sure enough, he had gotten confirmation at the urinal last week. The kid was sporting an abnormally large pair of balls that could only belong to a Holden man. 

Alexander supposed he shouldn't be surprised. He had started being a sperm donor in college to make a little cash. One test of his seed and the clinic had been positively feral to milk him dry. Once he started moving up in the company the money had meant less to Alexander but he still would occasionally pay a visit to the clinic to donate. He liked the idea that he could help a woman struggling with fertility or allow someone to start a family without relying on a man. He would also be lying if he didn't think it a little hot they have a bunch of mini me's running around as well. His only request was to warn any potential sons of their fertility as odd as that seemed. With the amount he had donated Alexander was bound to come across one of his children at some point although it was still thrilling. It warmed his heart to think he had another son, and one who had grown up to be as responsible and respectful as Shayne. 

He would have to ask Shayne about his father sometime or get him a DNA kit for the holidays. Something that might tip the kid off without coming on too strong. Just because they shared blood did not mean Alexander had a right to be part of his life yet if he would have him, Alexander would gladly have a relationship. 

"We should be all good with preparing for the audit without you. Have a good night sir."

The elevator doors closed blocking sight of his potential son. Alexander took out his phone and brought up messages to Christopher. In the dark elevator, he had trouble reading the screen and even more trouble finding out how to raise the brightness. God if only he could trade his buffalo balls for some IT skills he joked to himself. Eventually, he figured it out and typed out a message. 

"How could I refuse? My place in 20?"

Christopher sent a gif of a mouth watering then an emoji of a man running. Would it be so hard to type out a yes? Alexander wasn't worried about Christopher being busy. Besides the fact that he suspected the man would push his own mother off a cliff for the contents of Alexander's balls, he was also a writer, a job which gave him the luxury of making his own schedule. He mostly wrote YA fiction, some of which were quite well-known. His biggest series was all the rage when the kids were in their teens, meaning they had thought Christopher was the god on earth. Now though Christopher was working on something more adult. An erotica that he claimed was loosely based on his and Alexander's romance. He told the family proudly a few months back he was going to call it "The fountain of eternal cum". Alexander's PR team told him it would be a nightmare if it was published and Lila threatened to take a box cutter to her eyes, and ears too if an audiobook version came out. Still, Alexander had let the project continue, he thought it funny and maybe a little hot.

20 minutes later Alexander reached his building courtesy of his driver and made his way up to his penthouse apartment. Christopher was waiting for him splayed out on a $30,000 couch like a house cat.

"Smelled ya coming." He said, rising from his lounging position and making his way over to his lover. With practiced hands, he pulled Alexander in using his tie as a leach and placed one hand on his broad chest feeling the warmth of Alexander's body through the thin Oxford and undershirt.

When Alexander had first met Christopher he was something of a twink, young with ample curves and smooth skin. That had been over 20 years ago. Now Christopher was more the scruffy writer type, with a cute face adorned with a few wrinkles, thick glasses, and a layer of scraggly stubble. His body wasn't as tight as it had once been but Christopher still had enough in the back, where it really mattered. Alexander didn't begrudge his lover the changes of age. He wasn't the same muscle bull Christopher had fallen in love with either. While he had retained much of his size his age had left him sentimental, the wild bull, been tamed, although it still came out on occasion when his lover was involved. 

"I needed this" Alexander purred leaning into the embrace and planting three long kisses onto Christopher's neck. Christopher pulled his head back savoring the touch. We need to get this off he said, peeling Alexander's suit jacket from his frame. Alexander's back and arms proved too large and made what might have been a sexy process rather unsexy as the two struggled to peel off the garment. Once that was done Christopher went to work on the buttons starting from the stop and working his way down until Alexander stood in an open shirt with only a white sleeveless undershirt beneath. 

"Ugh, why do you wear so many clothes," Christopher said eager to get to his prize. 

"I could say the same thing to you" Alexander rumbled. He took the opportunity to pull off Christopher's chunky cable knit sweater, a process Christopher assisted in by raising his arms. Alexander tried to make things more even by fully removing his button-up shirt but he was still left in a white tank top. His arms were thick solid things bulging with mature muscle, and the lower half covered a dusting of nearly transparent blond hair. His chest pushed out the undershirt significantly, then fell loose around his still mostly flat belly.

"Will you do the thing?" Christopher asked excitedly, a kid asking to go on a roller coaster again. Alexander plastered on a gracious smile then put both hands on either side of the shirt's collar and pulled. It ripped clean down the middle revealing his toned body. Christopher clapped and giggled then and went in for another kiss, their now shirtless bodies rubbing against one another. Alexander suspected hundreds of shirts over the years had perished to Christopher's "favorite trick" but it was worth it to see that look of glee on his face. Besides undershirts weren't particularly expensive, at least he assumed they weren't. His assistant did most of his shopping for him.

"Shall we take this to the bedroom Mr. Holden?" Christopher asked, knowing how formal talk turned Alexander on. In response, Alexander picked his smaller lover up in a fireman's carry and made its way across the penthouse to the bedroom. Along the way, they passed countless family photos framed on walls and coffee tables. Liam was the lead of the high school musical, Lila won the state debate championship, and Brandon posing proudly with graffiti art that spelled out his name. There were picnics and football games, thanksgiving dinners, and volunteering. Three smiling happy golden-haired children, all made from their father. Made from his potent seed, the seed Christopher was about to receive.

Alexander threw Christopher down on the bed and caused him to bounce on the springy mattress. With his manly hands, he gripped Christopher's pants and tried to force them over his voluptuous bottom, getting to his prize at all costs. He could have ripped them off nearly as easily as he had his shirt if not for Christopher's pleas about how much he loved these pants. It felt like it took forever for Christopher to undo his belt, unbutton his pants, and pull the zipper down, only then allowing Alexander to rip them off, taking underwear with it. Christopher had a respectable dick and balls that were he with a different company might be considered large. Yet when with a Holden man it was like comparing an ant to an elephant. Besides, there was really only one thing below the waist Alexander carried about. Not that he was a selfish lover, but rather the two after years of making love had experimented enough to know what they really wanted. "Roll over," he said breathily, his excitement getting the better of him. Now it was his turn to take the time with his pants. 

Plop

His package flopped out into the open like a hot man to a pool. He looked down at his balls and for a moment they seemed obscene. Baseballs attached to the underside of a penis that really wasn't that remarkable.

The seed is strong.

9 inches was at the lower end for size in his family but he really didn't have anything to complain about. Yet another perk of being a Holden man. With their large balls, it only was natural that they have the dick to match. It was a subject less commonly talked about for obvious reasons yet Alexander was no idiot. He had seen his brothers dicks through their pants plenty of times and heard stories from their wives. And his children, well a father can't help but see these things even if he tries not to. Once back when Alexander had still been in college and with Stephanie his father, the patriarch of the family, had gotten a bit too drunk on old fashions and whiskey on the rocks. He had launched into a bit of a rant.

"Oh I had some big dicked brothers, but of all them, mine was the thickest. No, it wasn't the longest, that would be my brother Kendall. We used to call him pencils dick Kendall you know. Foot long but thin as a finger. Looked ridiculous with his big balls. He ended up having eight children though so I guess someone liked that pencil dick." 

The whole family had erupted in laughter at that, much to Stephanie's horror and Alexander's delight. He had inherited that thickness, thickness which Christopher revealed in, tentatively licking the head from his ass up position before taking the whole thing in his mouth. Giving a blow job to someone of Alexander's size wasn't easy but Christopher had something like 20 years of practice. It wasn't just that he could take the whole thing that made Christoper blow jobs great, although that was nice. Rather it was the way he played with Alexander's balls, tickling them caressing them, even taking a break from his dick to suck on them. Alexander always thought he was trying to cut out the middleman and get right to the source of his addiction. He suspected his lover would hook up an IV bag of his seed to drip into his bloodstream if he had the supply.

After a few minutes Christopher got impatient. "I'm ready," he said excitedly turning to face away from Alexander and presenting his ass like a target for practice. Alexander took a bottle of lube from his bedside table and applied it generously to his dick and his lover's hole. There was no point in a condom, they both were clean and besides those did little against determined Holden spunk. Yet lube was essential even after all these years for accommodating his dick. Slowly he inserted his dick, being careful at first. Once he was halfway in Christopher gave him a nod and he sped up, ramming the rest of his member in and then pulling it out almost all the way out with a wet squish. Christopher moaned a high-pitched whine of pleasure and pleaded for more. As Alexander began to thrust he answered with his own sound, a mix between a bellow and a grunt. God, how did he keep his hole so tight? 

"Harder" Christopher panted. Alexander went harder.

Harder!" Christopher said again. Alexander thrust with his hips impaling his partner with all his substantial strength. His full balls slammed against round butt cheeks, the sound keeping time with his thrusts. 

"Harder daddy, breed me. Fucking breed me. Fill me with your seed till I have your fucking baby." Alexander gave it all he had. If Christopher wanted to be bred so bad then he was all too happy to oblige. He obliterated him, pulverized his fucking hole. Pleasured him so thoroughly he might never walk again. He showed his lover how he had created three children, the reason why his family was so prolific. The seed is strong. The seed is strong. The seed is strong.

"The seed is strong." He screamed as he climaxed. His vision went white as his balls emptied like a dam bursting. His dick became a fire hydrant for the torrent of seed that he pumped into Christopher. The two collapsed onto each other, sweaty bodies reveling in the heat, the smell, and the pleasure. They just sat there for a moment, slowly winding down from the passion of the experience. It had felt for a moment like those times back so long ago when Alexander had conceived his children. He knew even then as soon as he had climaxed his seed would quicken. He had felt it in his bones, in his balls. Only obviously that couldn’t be, a figment of his horny imagination perhaps. 

With a start, Alexander realized his dick was still inside of Christopher, half hard and plugging his hole like a drain stopper. He removed himself with a popping sound and caused a torrent of cum to spill out of Christopher. Christopher reached around and scooped it up onto his hand before licking them clean and moaning like he had just had a cold cone in the summertime. He went in for a kiss and Alexander got a taste of his own seed. It was indeed strong, like raw masculinity. Salty musky and somehow sweet, Alexander understood why Christopher had developed a taste for it. He could somehow tell that every single swimming sperm in his mouth could create a child if given a chance, ones who would be as beautiful as the ones he had now. The thought made him feel like Chronos from Greek mythology gobbling up his children whole.

"Even more amazing than usual," Christopher said once the two had broken their kiss. "I swear Alexander you are a fine wine. You just get better with age." He excused himself to use the bathroom leaving Alexander lying alone on his spoiled sheets. It was funny how much sex defined his life. It was sex that had brought him his children, the lights of his life. Sex that had brought him Christopher, his life partner and husband. Even his business, the largest contraceptive company in the country. It would be quite the scandal if it came out that their CEO could bust right through their condoms with his seed. Alexander supposed it was inevitable that his life revolved around sex. He had always been told the seed was strong and had always taken it literally. Yet it went beyond hyperactive balls. The men of his family seemed practically bred to breed, with their faces and their bodies not the mention the dicks and strong libido, it was inevitable that the Holden men lived and breathed sex. He wondered what in the family's past had happened to create such a strong seed. Was there some kind of curse placed on their family by a disgruntled prehistoric witch? Or maybe one of Alexander's ancestors was some kind of genetically mutated freak. Could they be a different species? With the rate they were going the whole world might be Holden men in a few centuries. 

Alexander had to laugh. The things he thought about in his post-nut state were always strange but he must have really needed this if he was thinking about witches and a future of only Holden humans. Besides Alexander had found a loophole, homosexuality. Not of course before before he had spawned three and potentially hundreds more through donation. Still with Christopher at least he knew he was safe. The seed was strong but it wasn't that strong. 

"HONEY. I think I'm pregnant" Christopher yelled from inside the bathroom waving a positive pregnancy test excitedly.

Shit. The seed is strong.

Hope you enjoyed, been sitting on this one for a while. I wrote an epilogue too that more comedic then hot, but i would post that too if anyone is interested.

[abitcaughtinthemiddle]

The Hypocrisy of Vex'ahlia

Before you all come for me, I am a Vex stan and I will defend her until I die - she is my favorite Critical Role character and I'm so glad we're getting a deeper dive into her psyche.

The complexities of her character cannot be overstated. She has a lot going on under the surface, and the breadcrumbs of her deep-seated insecurities have been there the whole time.

I'm really excited we get to explore those in season 3 through her relationship with Percy, in a way different than what we've seen in the actual play streams. I want to commend the writers for being able to convey so much in so little time.

We are introduced to Vex as a sexy, confident woman who uses her looks and charisma to her advantage. She takes charge most of the time, being the unofficial "leader" of Vox Machina. She presents herself as someone who doesn't really need anyone else and does not care about anyone outside of her brother. Keyleth even comments on this in the first episode, "Vex and Vax only care about themselves".

This, of course, is a complete fabrication, a mask she wears to hide her insecurities. A mask, she wants no one to see through. The irony here is that she can so easily see behind Percy's mask - "Darling, take off the mask". It takes one to know one, after all.

She so badly wants to get underneath Percy's mask, for him to show himself to her fully. There's something inside of her that sees the guilt and shame inside of him and that resonates with her belief that she is deeply broken. Vex truly believes that something must truly be wrong with her. And why wouldn't she? Saundor, who said he knew everything about her, saw this, too, after all.

Saundor says plainly, "you will never be enough."

So it must be true, right?

Why wouldn't something be so wrong with her? It would make sense. Her father carries no love for her, her mother died, and Vax had to sacrifice his life for hers. She knows Vax loves her, and she believes he is the only one who does. Even Kamaljiori, an ancient and all-knowing Sphinx, fed into this during their test when Vax fell: "you have no family left who cares for you".

Her hypocrisy lies in the facade she built as a woman who does not need anyone or anything. She presents herself as someone who does not need the love of others, when in reality, she desperately wants to be loved.

Saundor saw this as well.

Vex longs to love and be loved. And yet, she cannot allow herself to give up her facade and let Percy love her and admit her love for him.

The last person to see through her walls was Saundor, and we know how that went.

What he said really cut her deep, as we see after the Kevdak fight when she brushes off Pike's inquiries about her experience in the fey realm.

As we see her relationship with Percy move from harmless flirting to physical intimacy at the beginning of season 3, we see her embrace the physical closeness to Percy but starts to block him out the moment he wants to cement their relationship. But she can't let herself tell him how she feels because that would mean admitting her heart is his - and that would be doomed to end in tragedy, as Vex admits later in the cave.

Putting up this emotional wall between her and Percy will not give Vex what she wants: love.

Love is that emotional intimacy. Vex loves to point out the importance of love between other people- in season 2, pushing Keyleth to tell Vax how she feels ("it always matters"), assuring Allura that Kima's love for her will help her endure after Vorugal's attack, and putting faith in the rest of Vox Machina.

Vex understands what makes love so special, and how important truth and intimacy are to real, lasting love.

And while she comforts others and pushes them to be vulnerable and embrace love, her own fears prevent her from fully doing the same. It's ironic and sad, how one of the only people who can see through her mask is the one she's pushing away.

Trauma makes hypocrites of us all.

Image credits @blorbologist @aq2003

[cirilla-fiona-riannon]

Chapter 1 Part 1 Preview

Translations may not always capture the exact nuances or tone of the original text. Expect grammatical errors and inaccuracies. Not a full translation.

Spoilers ahead.

Nobunaga: "Whoever controls this madness will determine the future of the world."

His deep, resonant voice echoed through the hall, plunging it into silence.

(The Oda army is strong. Nobunaga and his men will be fine, but...)

The thought of the blank guidebook flashed through my mind.

(As Nobunaga said, the future will greatly change depending on who brings order to this chaos.)

(I hope the world becomes peaceful, but what if it doesn't?)

I clenched my fingertips tightly when suddenly—

Fwoosh!

(What the!?)

Someone slashed the sliding door.

Hideyoshi: "An enemy attack!?"

Everyone except Nobunaga swiftly reached for their sword, ready to defend themselves.

From beyond the fallen door, a figure slowly appeared.

Kenshin: "I'm here to pick up my woman."

(Kenshin!?)

His hair swayed as he gracefully stepped into the hall.

Mitsunari: "Lord Kenshin."

Nobunaga: "Oh? You're earlier than I expected."

Ieyasu: "Far too early. Mai, did you really send that letter last night?"

Mai: "Y-Yeah. I did."

(It shouldn't have even reached Kasugayama Castle, and yet...)

I whispered to Ieyasu, and Kenshin's mismatched eyes caught mine.

Kenshin: "There you are, Mai."

Mai: "Why are you here? Ah!"

He pulled me close, leaving no space between our bodies.

Mai: "Kenshin!"

Kenshin: "I'm glad you're okay. When I heard you were going to Azuchi, I felt my heart drop."

Kenshin: "If anything had happened to you, I would've destroyed not just the tenshu but the entire castle."

Mai: "What?!"

Hideyoshi: "You've already destroyed the door, though."

Keiji: "Yeah, split right in two."

(That's true.)

Kenshin: "Mai, are you listening to me?"

Mai: "Y-Yes!"

Ieyasu: "Yeah, he's ignoring us."

Wrapped in his warmth, his sharp eyes focused solely on me.

Kenshin: "You have a duty to stay safe for my sake, and you've done well in fulfilling that."

Kenshin: "I'll give you a proper reward later."

(Ngh.)

His sweet voice tickled my ear, and my heartbeat skipped uncontrollably.

Mai: "T-Thanks. But please don't whisper in my ear!"

Kenshin: "I refuse. I'll love you in any way I wish."

(Crap, what do I do?)

(Even though his entrance was so over-the-top, I can't help but feel happy to see him.)

Kenshin, whom I had longed to see ever since leaving Kasugayama Castle, was right in front of me. The fact that he wanted me so desperately made my heart flutter.

(Still, it's super embarrassing with everyone watching.)

I tried to look over my shoulder as I felt the stares from those around us, but...

Kenshin: "Hey. What are you looking away for?"

Mai: "Eeek!"

His lips brushed against my ear, and a startled sound escaped from my lips.

Kenshin: "You only need to look at me."

(Kenshin.)

I looked at him as he commanded, and his gentle gaze fell on me.

(Nnn.)

His long fingers traced my lips, making my heartbeat even louder.

Kenshin: "You look so beautiful. It makes me want you even more."

Mai: "W-Wait!"

I frantically pushed against his chest as his face drew so close that our eyelashes brushed against each other.

(Uh, he's not budging at all.)

I desperately tried to apply more strength, making him frown.

Kenshin: "Are you telling me to wait after I felt like I had been waiting for you for a thousand years?"

Kenshin: "You're being cruel."

(Stop looking at me like that.)

Mai: "Um, I feel the same way! I've felt like it's been a thousand years since I last saw you."

Kenshin: "Oh, so you wanted me that badly?"

Kenshin: "Then there's no problem in wanting you."

Mai: "P-Please, just wait a moment!"

(I can't take this anymore! The gazes around us are too much!)

Exchanging a passionate embrace with their former enemy in the halls of Azuchi Castle in front of Nobunaga and his generals is unprecedented.

But Masamune and Keiji are not bothered by this, as they look at us amused.

Masamune: "What happened to the serious atmosphere we had just a moment ago?"

Keiji: "I don't really get what's happening, but this is definitely hot. Should we just tease them for now?"

(These two have no intention of stopping us.)

Mitsunari: "Then I'll fetch some water from the well."

Ieyasu: "How about some colder spring water from the mountains?"

Mitsunari: "Got it! I'll make a quick trip, so please wait a moment."

Ieyasu: "Hey, don’t take that seriously. What good will that even do?"

(Mitsunari's innocence and Ieyasu's sarcasm haven't changed at all.)

Hideyoshi: "Lord Nobunaga, shall we apprehend this intruder?"

Mitsuhide: "You want to break the alliance already? I'd prefer not to, but if you say so, I guess I have no choice."

(These two are saying something ominous!)

Mai: "Um, guys, please calm down!"

In my flustered attempt to stop them, I caught Nobunaga's gaze.

Nobunaga: "….…..."

(I wonder what Nobunaga will say.)

Resting one elbow on the armrest, Nobunaga leisurely narrowed his eyes.

Nobunaga: "Everyone, leave it be. That man's obsession with Mai didn't start today."

Nobunaga: "If Mai frowns at Kenshin even a little, you can kick him out, but she's smiling so broadly that she's practically melting."

Mai: "W-Wait, melting?!"

Everyone: "Indeed."

(They all agreed so easily!)

Kenshin: "You understand well."

Even though Nobunaga called it an "obsession," Kenshin seemed satisfied.

(Am I really that happy after meeting him again after so long?)

(If so, Kenshin is amazing.)

Before I realized it, the dark and heavy anxiety that had been weighing on me since I learned about the attack on Azuchi Castle had completely lifted.

(Kenshin changed the whole atmosphere.)

Kenshin: "Your complexion looks much better now."

Mai: "Huh?"

Kenshin: "A pained expression doesn't suit you."

(He really sees right through me.)

His genuine concern for me made my chest feel warm and full.

(But that aside, what do I do? He's still holding me so tightly!)

Hideyoshi: "Hey, how long are you planning to just stand there? You're in front of Lord Nobunaga, you know."

Hideyoshi: "Mai, you're a good girl, so sit down already."

Mai: "Sorry. Hey, Kenshin, let's sit down."

Kenshin: "These people are so disrespectful. Fine, you can sit on my lap."

Mai: "That's a bit much."

Kenshin: "Would you prefer to sit sideways on my lap, then?"

Mai: "It's not about how I sit. Um, can you let me go for a second?"

Mai: "I mean, wouldn't it be heavy if I sat on your lap?"

Kenshin: "Not at all. You're as light as a feather."

(That was a quick response!)

As our endless back-and-forth continued, Ieyasu exaggeratedly shrugged his shoulders.

Ieyasu: "Hey, how long will this go on?"

Keiji: "It'll last till sundown."

Mai: "Look, Kenshin, everyone is waiting for us."

Kenshin: ".........."

(Uh-oh.)

His eyes locked onto me without even blinking.

(I guess I have no choice.)

Mai: "Please save things like this for when we're alone."

Kenshin: "........."

Mai: "Thank you for coming to see me. I promise to do anything to repay you later!"

Feeling the heat spread across my cheeks, I averted my gaze.

Kenshin: "Fine. Don't forget those words."

A sharp, captivating smile appeared on his lips.

Masamune: "Oh, looks like he backed down."

Mitsuhide: "Kenshin has a real knack for getting Mai to say "I'll do anything" with just a little silent pressure."

Kenshin: "When it comes to loving Mai, I'll use any means necessary."

(Was that his plan all along!?)

Hideyoshi: "At least pick the right place. Do it in Echigo."

Mitsunari: "Still, it's strange."

(Huh?)

Beside a disgruntled-looking Hideyoshi, Mitsunari spoke as if pondering something.

Mitsunari: "Lord Kenshin's arrival was faster than I imagined."

Mitsunari: "What kind of trick made it possible?"

(Oh, I was wondering about that too.)

(I only sent the letter saying I was heading to Azuchi Castle last night, so how is Kenshin already here?)

As everyone's gaze turned toward him, Kenshin lowered his voice.

Kenshin: "I watched the Tenshu go up in flames the night Azuchi Castle was attacked."

(What?!)

[sflow-er]

Assorted Heartstopper season 3 thoughts (spoilers!)

Charlie's mental health issues were handled really, really well and Joe Locke acted his heart out. Perhaps the recovery could've been shown in a little more detail, but the ep4 structure was a great solution for a show of this length. I also liked how they portrayed the impact on his loved ones (especially the toll on Nick and Tori).

As much as I missed Nick's mum throughout the season, making his aunt a psychiatrist and letting her advise him about Charlie was an excellent choice! It actually felt more realistic than if it had been Sarah.

So pleased to see more Tori this season, and the rewrite of her and Michael's first meeting was cute! I do wish they had broken away from the comics timeline though, because the fast-forward to him casually hanging at their house felt very abrupt. I would've preferred a closer portrayal of her depression and them gradually getting closer this season, with their actual relationship saved for later.

Hence, I am actually glad they saved the ace reveal for S4. We saw too little of Tori and Michael's relationship or her confusion around it to relate to her aceness yet. If she had randomly come out to Charlie on the Ferris wheel, it would have just felt like lip service and a nod to the fans who knew her story from Solitaire (which is not canon in the show). I get why people feel like she was straightwashed, but there is zero chance of Alice Oseman of all people eradicating ace rep, and I genuinely feel that this was the better choice.

That being said, Michael was perfect and the casting was spot on!

As for the aspec rep we already got, Isaac's arc this season was amazingly well done! Even if his experience doesn't resonate with me on a personal level, it was relatable as hell in the show. It's also a great reminder that we are watching an ongoing show. S2 was Isaac figuring out his own identity, S3 was him living it and communicating it to others - and based on the camerawork in the scene where people wondered about Tori and Michael, S4 may be Isaac helping someone else figure out their own identity.

Another memorable thing for me was Elle's radio interview - the sheer absurdity of a trans teen being asked to respond to bad faith talking points from some adult TERF. The host both-sidesing it and unwittingly exposing her to vitriol if the interview had aired. Holy shit how appalled I was on her behalf - and how sadly realistic it felt... I hope the parents and random adults who watch this highly popular show take note.

Is it horribly middle-aged of me to say the teachers are still my favourite couple? I loved the glimpses we got of them together and the flashback to little Youssef made me tear up. More of them in the final season please and thank you!

My main criticism is that the season felt too heavily packed. There are so many characters now, and Alice and the writers want to give them all at least some kind of arc in each season. The result is that many of those arcs feel a bit rushed, and even as someone who usually fixates on side characters, I'm struggling to invest in all of them at once. Especially while the main characters and the more prominent side characters are going through very heavy stuff. So yeah, I would have preferred a tighter focus and more narrative breathing space.

All in all though, I really enjoyed this season and am looking forward to the next (presumably last) one!

[pubbamoon]

Top 5 placements from my natal chart I like

Hello, it's me! Before I get into a topic, I would like to thank to everyone who has supported me for a couple of days. It really means the world to me. My second astrology observation about the planet Venus in houses really blew up and it got over 100 likes/notes in its first 24 hours, which I did not expect at all. I'm glad you like my posts and that you can resonate with the words I write. So, I was thinking for hours about what could I do next and decided I'm going to make an observation on my favorite placements from my own natal chart, which is a very 1st house Mercury thing, hahaha, lol. Hope you wouldn't mind this kind of observation.

Moon Trine Venus - This is my tightest aspect in my natal chart (0° 12' orb) and I'm glad it is. I think this is a beautiful placement which gives natural beauty. These planets are placed in the earth signs in my chart, which gives very grounding energy. People always tell me how I'm so grounded and stable when they see me. I love this placement, you can be loved by everyone basically. Trine is a harmonious aspect which can tell about our talents, so this aspect can make someone talented in arts. Love that!

Sun in the 1st house - This placement can be truly a blessing when you use it the right way. Of course, it depends on the position of the Sun too. For example, I do have Sun in Aquarius, which is a detriment position for the Sun. But regardless, having Sun in the 1st house can make you confident and to have a strong personality, which I think it's so important. This placement answered my question why have I always been by myself and independent for my whole life, haha.

Pluto Sextile Ascendant - Pluto represents power, obsessions and even sexiness, while Ascendant represents ourself, our body and our overall life. Those natives could have very powerful presence and persona. It can make someone being beautiful and having a sex appeal too. When I'm interested in something, I can become obsessed with that and I think this could be the manifestation of this aspect.

MC ruler in Leo - Midheaven/Medium Coeli/MC is all about career, reputation and how you seem to be like to other people. Leo, on the other hand, is associated with creativity, entertainment and being the center of attention, which is great for careers in creative pursuits. My MC ruler is also at 11 degrees, which represents internet and technology. I basically make an astrology content here on Tumblr and I think that's creative. My MC ruler is also retrograde, so it could be a little bit harder for me to get successful in career.

North Node in the 5th house - North Node represents our life mission and something that could be hard for us to establish. It tells us what should be work on to maintain our life purpose. The 5th house is all about having fun, creativity, children, entertainment, hobbies and doing something what we like to do. While it's hard sometimes to work on that placement, I always feel guided to be in present moment and have fun a little bit more. It's lovely to me when your life purpose is needing to have to be comfortable with yourself and doing something creative.

That would be all for today. Thank you again for supporting my astrology journey. Hope that this resonates if you have this placement in your natal chart. Wish you all love and luck.

Best regards,

Paky McGee

[nyxisart]

Apologies to be the bearer of bad news, but I saw the other ask and, well, your comics have hit me Like That too, and I really want to say thank you. If I hadn't seen you depicting these feelings in such an understandable light, they'd still be festering deep within me.

Whether it's a bad thing that I resonate with them... yeah, I agree with you on that one, even if my emotions don't. Tricksy bastards, can't trust them. But I do know that it's unequivocally a good thing that I can actually think about those resonances now, and it wouldn't have happened without that comic, so... thank you. You're doing excellent work.

I guess, if you put it like this... Apparently I helped a lot of people figure things out, whether about plurality or therianthropy? And it's honestly a bit unexpected as this was not the goal of this comic, but I'm definitely glad that it had this impact.

[courtmartialme]

Hey! Sorry in advance if this is word vomit-y and a mess im literally crying rn lol

Ok so i found u for ur trans riza art and at first i was like yo cool explicitly trans art! Then i went thru ur blog and found there was so much here and it made me so fucking happy. Like we (trans mascs) domt get as much representation so its really meaningful when u find it in the wild but then when its genuinely good A+ quality content too and theres just so much of it? Words cant describe how fucking happy and seen i felt.

Ive been following u for a while now and just like. Youre so inspiring to me? Like your art is goals its so fucking good, when i see your art it makes me want to draw and improve my own art. Your brainrot and like willingness to do your own thing in regards to trans riza and ur AU art is also just so inspiring to me. And like as a trans masc creator i guess its so inspiring to see you succeed if that makes sense.

As to why im crying rn, i just found ur trans riza comic and its Unlocking things in me its making me cry so hard rn dhddhddnbdjdbdfbnffb like it just makes me feel sm hope for my own future? And idk its just really nice to see such good content and representation that really understands and gets the "trans experience" if that makes sense. So like yeah dhdjdjf just thank you so much for being so inspiring to me and (others bc im sure its not just me that feels like this) and for sharing your art!

that's a very sweet message thank you !!! i'm glad my trans riza art resonates with you ^_^

though anon, i don't think we are "under represented" at all. maybe in big media? sure, idk, i don't pay attention tbh. but anon there are a lot of transmasc artists making transmasc art out there you just have to pay attention :] and i think this kind of art is better appreciated when you stop using words such as "content" and "representation" to describe art made by artists in the wild and save it for big tv shows lol. ofc i get the trans experience, i'm trans. but maybe my trans experience isn't the same as yours. who gets to decide if something so personal is bad or good content? or representation? i think by applying those standards you're only limiting yourself and others

of course, i know you only meant well with your message! but i took the opportunity to ramble about something i think about a lot <3 i'm honored you find my art inspiring bc i honestly mostly draw whatever i feel like drawing lol even though trans riza au isn't very deep or personal or anything, it's important to me so i draw it. i hope all of us can forever create more art about our experiences without worrying if it's good representation or whatnot because that's a silly word to describe the feelings of real people :]

[kaurwreck]

I saw your recent headcanon bsd post and honestly you really get the characters (or you get me <3 because i fully agree with them) especially the Atsushi and Dazai one which is practically canon for me. Do you have more Atsushi and Dazai headcanon you can share? I really love it when people talk about those two

I'm so glad the Atsushi and Dazai headcanon resonated with you! I call them headcanons, but they're canon to me; it's my sandbox and I'm building sandcastles.

I don't think I'm articulate enough to adequately express my thoughts about Atsushi and Dazai's relationship, so rather than try, I'm going to share more bulleted snippets of headcanons that hopefully relay the vibes if not the substance.

Atsushi is emotionally brilliant, but has the intellect of an idiot kitten. Dazai is intellectually brilliant, but has the emotional intelligence of an idiot kitten. Nevertheless, Atsushi is NOT self-aware, in the slightest, while Dazai is excruciatingly self-aware. They would devour each other in the wild but are a bonded pair in captivity.

At least once a week, Dazai loses Atsushi at the store and then doesn't listen to the intercom when he's called.

Dazai thrusts himself into the thick of villains and conflicts because the narrative will not let him die, but he can't move it forward from there. Atsushi can and is compelled to, even, because it's the only way he'll survive.

In 55 Minutes, Atsushi indicates that maybe all skills come from elsewhere and are imposed upon us. In that way, he's drawing a parallel between skills and the cultural, societal, temporal, familial influences that construct our understanding of our existence. He's also saying that perhaps what Dazai and Kyouka have going on with their otherness and inability to control their skills is kind of what happens to all of us, just in different ways. This is why he is the protagonist. He does not see separation. He sees people and he sees the constructs and frameworks that people build around themselves, but which they can also deconstruct and rebuild. Dazai isn't convinced he's a person, but Atsushi guilelessly and unwaveringly looks at him and sees a person anyway. He has that effect on others; he did the same thing to Kyouka, and Lucy, and Akutagawa, and even Ango when Ango aimed a gun at Kyouka and Lucy. Worse yet, they see reflections of their personhood in his eyes. It's intoxicating, and enlivening, and frustrating, and terrifyingly vulnerable. Dazai experiences it as absolution. Atsushi experiences it as obvious.

Dazai tries to give Atsushi shaken baby syndrome when Atsushi annoys him, even though Yosano keeps telling him that Atsushi's too old.

Chuuya and Atsushi unabashedly want to love and be loved, it's second nature to them, albeit in different ways. But Akutagawa and Dazai convinced themselves they were perfectly fine not loving and never being loved; up until they met someone who everyone loves, which is so, horribly vexing to them because they're so different and unique and no one understands them and yet here they are, vying for the attention of someone who seems to know something they don't. So, they cope by loving those they love in ways no one else does. Which is to say: like freaks.

Dazai gets involved with Atsushi and Akutagawa not just because they need mentorship or for Atsushi. He's there in solidarity with Akutagawa. Dazai is there because he needs someone who understands the reality of the idiot situation that they got themselves into because they're idiots. Dazai and Akutagawa were both supposed to die young and in abject misery. And yet here they are. Being yanked around by objectively unreasonable people who seem to think they know better. Worse, Dazai knows that he and Akutagawa want to believe them.

Atsushi and Dazai are cat-coded, when the others run it activates their predator instincts.

dazai is so afraid of feeling; he doesn't think you can survive emotion, he thinks emotions exist to trick you or destroy you and that others' expressions of emotions are disingenuous or naive; emotions burn him terribly and he can't imagine it's any different for everyone else. and if it is, then that just further evidences that he's not human after all, that he wasn't built to survive in a world that hurts him so terribly. it's why he's so certain kunikida is going to get swallowed by his ideals. it's why he raised akutagawa in pain and neglect and why he was so disgusted by akutagawa's lack of emotional control. it's why he can't hold onto chuuya for longer than it takes chuuya to fall asleep after corruption. it's why he slapped atsushi and demanded disassociation from him when atsushi started to panic about what he'd done to naomi and haruno. but fyodor is what it looks like when you succumb to that, and chuuya and atsushi and oda are what it looks like when you don't, and as much as dazai thinks he's capable of loving anyone, he loves atsushi and chuuya and oda, all of whom grappled with their own humanity and then elected to be human anyway. and as much as he thinks the others are deluding themselves, and as much as he still believes he's right about humanity's insincerity and insipidity, and since oda asked him just before dying over his own fruitless emotions anyway (although it began before oda asked), dazai has decided he would rather fiercely protect the outcasts who refuse to see their own futility than exert any energy proving himself correct. and if he can bully a reflection of himself in the process thereof, then all the better.

Dazai lies and claims Atsushi is his son for Father's Day discounts. It's so obviously untrue and outlandish that store clerks are too distressed by his thick face to call him out and so he gets away with it. Atsushi plays along because he wants the discounts too.

[annabelle-creart]

TF KINKTOBER DAY #1: Exhibiscionism || Filming/Photographing

CW: Valvepluge. Sexcall. Videocall. Masturbation.

Ship: BumbleBlades

Au: Shattered Glass

"Pff- HAHAHA!" Blades voice resonated on all the place, disturbing a bit the audio, it was like those crying toys Blades showed him before "For Unicron's sake! Bee, You're so funny!" Fortunately the ship was alone today, so no one would distract the bot from his call with his 'cutsie'

"Ah, it's just some things big OP tell me to do, nothing from other world" Goldbug boasted, shifting his legs on his chair for comfort, usually, when Gold says those kind of things, bots feel disgusted, but (still not sure if it's a blessing or a curse) Blades only feels admiration and delightment each time Gold tell him about his "adventures", he was so trustful with him that he wasn't scared or shameful of calling him by his old name, and Bee never said anything about it

"You know" Blades calmed the tone, getting closer to the screen, "that excites me"

"Pff, am I rizzing you up?"

"Yes, you do"

"I'm not even trying!" Gold started to laugh, hiding his face with his servo, but Blades was already looking deeply on his optics, supporting his head with one servo, when Gold looked a little bit down, he saw Blades' other servo too close to his clutch, enough to actually think what Blades means "I'm glad is so easy for me to high your day"

"You do it all the time" Blades lowered again the tune, now more playful, his orange optics placed on Gold's frame

"You look like you want to play something"

"Not 'play', but yes, I would like to"

It was obvious, the call always sends a notification when the other starts recording the video, but it was not the first time and Blades didn't care for it, actually, he liked it too much.

Bee openeded his legs, letting see his clutch, his panel wasn't opened yet but his optics tell everything. Blades was more of play pretend first, hiding a bit was his fave part, he opened his legs and his panel was open, but didn't showed to the camera, only his wrist going up and down was viewable for Bee

"Oh, come on!" Bee begged for Blades, knowing it wouldn't work, but Blades liked that Bee beg for him, to convice Blades was their favorite part "let me see a bit"

"No" Blades joked, but did so, he raised one leg only to let Bee know he had to beg a little more "I'm not hearing you"

"Why do I always have to beg you?" Gold rolled his optics but kept a mischevious smile, and got closer to the camera as if he could see more by it "please..."

"I don't see you properly" Blades laughed a bit, feeling his cold digit agasinst his valve, Gold understood the indirect, so, he moved the camera, enough for Blades to see his face but he could also see his clutch properly

"Hm, how I miss it" Blades passed his own digit around his chin, licking some, remembering how he played with Bee's spike back on Cybertron

"I miss your mouth on it too" both chuckled, at the same time, reminiscing those moments with both fun and pleasure

"You just want a cock warmer"

"I don't remember pushing your neck to me" Bee replied Blades' joke "But I do remember you get out of my spike only to eat it whole" Bee had one servo on his spike, caressing it with his digits, Blades could see it, figuring the way Bee caressed himself was pretty similar to how Blades remembered he did "and I remember you were really good at it"

"I'm sure I still am, I'm just out of practice" Blades moved again to have his valve more on the view, finally Bee could see more of it, and Blades was already wet "But I also remember you never let me go even after you had an overload, I remember I once thought you wanted more, and then you said your frame was cold!"

"Please, let's make like that never happened" Bee's breath changed, it was a bit more fast now, feeling like a goosebump on his clutch

"I can't" Blades breath was also different, maybe to see Bee like that excited him more "it was so cute!"

"It was stupid"

"No... it was hot" Blades reclined his head on the chair, his valve felt like bumping and his digits were also full of transfluid, Bee could see it, wishing to be with Blades, to handle his hips, to do jugling with his glossa and pass his digits through the wet valve, to press them inside while kissing his neck and then dip his own spike with Blades transfluids and be inside him, he wanted to be the reason of Blades' moans, which only excited him more, moving his wrist through his spike up and down, spitting coolant on it to make the movement easier, he wanted to be for Blades, imagining what is Blades feeling, he was moaning, inserting his digits on his valve and passing his other servo through his mouth, was he also dreaming of have inside Bee's spike or fingers, or maybe was he dreaming of a glossa instead? Bee could also think of Blades long and playful glossa on his spike, he was a terrorcon after all, that wasn't strange, and it was actually what Bee missed the most of interfacing.

"Bee?" Blades called between moans

"Hm?" Bee replied softly, wondering if it was just Blades excitement or was actually calling, never letting his servo appart

"I wish you were the one fucking me right now"

"I know"

"No, I mean" Blades was interrupted by his own frame, like a tickle and a high, his vents and motor were hot and his clutch was sensible, nothing ached but the feeling of exhaustion hit him for a moment

When Blades saw the screen, Bee was just on it, not letting go until his spike couldn't more, also with some exhaustion but also some relief, he breathed properly after a moment of relaxation

"What were you saying? Sorry" Bee retook the conversation, Blades paused a moment, this time glued on his Bee's optics

"I miss you"

[namazunomegami]

Into the Void

Pairing: Geto Suguru x gn!reader

Synopsis: Geto is so succumbed to his ideals that you have no choice but to run. But the hunt for you is more than a simple chase. It's resurrection. It's repentance. Just like in the parable of the lost sheep.

CW: canon compliant, established relationship, predator/prey, injuries, blood, toxic dynamics, heavy religious symbolism, emotional distress, dissociation, tiny bit of hurt/comfort, yandere behavior, Geto is a manipulative ass how surprising

WC: 5.2k whoops

Credits: my dear @notveryrussian for proofreading but tbh I should start calling you my editor from now on lmao. I'm glad you enjoyed my sneak peeks so much 💕

Song rec: since I can't control myself, I picked 3 songs by Nine Inch Nails that gives the perfect vibes to the story. For the exposition, I recommend Heresy, mostly because the lyrics resonates with the reader's thoughts about Geto. For the escape/chase part, I picked Eraser for the creepy vibes and reader's slowly deterioriating sanity. For the closing part, I picked A warm place because it's a comforting yet a bit gloomy track

A/N: Saying that this idea possessed me is an understatement. Initially I only wanted to put effort into the whole chase scene but obviously I started to add lore into the whole thing. And since they grew on me and I simply love their dynamic, a part 2 is on the way yaaay.

Minors shall not interact unless they wanna get punched.

And a usual warning for dark content. I wanted to keep it mild but I couldn't. Maybe I'm a lil bit too skilled when it comes to writing about fear.

It’s all too painful to think that maybe running away with Geto wasn’t the best idea.

Of course you loved him, you loved the twins too and the makeshift family you created, it really healed some of the wounds you received in the past. But you wished it would’ve stayed that way. Living together, somewhere far away, isolated, in peace. Have a fresh start, build a nest for the four of you and fill it up with love.

But he had other plans.

There were a lot of improvements in the initial phase of your plans. Building community, uniting the herd. You enjoyed some reverence from the followers too. Eventually the initial number of breakthroughs began to stagnate, despite all the effort. It became routine, like you were being dragged through the same day for years and years without end. When you were faced with even more setbacks, you started to realize that you basically never left the temple and it soon began to feel like a cage. Golden and holy. It was draining to see people lose their sense of individuality and how he became their only source of validation. It was torment. Living life as an idol of worship tucked into a forgotten corner of a church. Praised like a twisted Gothic Madonna with a blue cloth over your head, but in reality you weep, you’re their Mater Dolorosa, with swords piercing your sorrowful heart.

The most devastating thing about realizing you’re not fit to run a cult, is the fact that you lack the most understated yet important aspect of it: believing in the agenda you want to spread. How could you guide all those helpless, simple-minded sheep while questioning whether your destination is real or not? Maybe that Canaan has nothing to do with milk and honey, instead it’s just a pile of rubble.

You soon got tired of it all. His drive, his goal, all too impossible to achieve. Maybe he knew he could never make it happen, but it consumed him regardless. You’ve lost the most cherished parts of him to his hatred, his deeply repressed rage against any injustices he had to deal with after the infamous Star Plasma incident.

You weren’t sure about your feelings towards Geto anymore. Were you afraid of him? Angry at him? Bitter? Disappointed? Worried? It all turned into mush, a grotesque, black liquid as the thin walls of the temple slowly made you feel like they were closing in on you. You had no idea how much time you had, until your unresolved feelings will taint the whole place.

You always circled back to the worst possible action to protect your soft, aching heart… When you thought that nothing will change for the better, you wanted to run away. You wanted to hide. The ambivalence of your feelings towards him weighed on your heart and conscience, like a thousand stones. You loved him, yet you loathed what has become of him. Despite that you trusted him with the map of your soul, made it through all the highs and lows of your relationship so far, all the deep abysses of pain and suffering.

Maybe you should run, just for the sake of it. To test how it will make you feel. Will it make you feel freed? At ease? Will it lift the weights on your chest? Will this sense of incoming doom vanish?

Maybe you should find Gojo. He wouldn’t condemn you, but he would be disappointed. If you set your judgement and resentment to aside, he’s the only one who can talk with the higher ups to scratch your name off the list of curse users who are on death row.

How much time did you need to forge your plan? Not even a single minute. It was only natural for you to memorize everybody’s routine, how to distinguish the sound of their steps, to pick a timeframe when nobody is lurking around the halls. The first (and probably last) time you were glad those who have hurt you gave you a skill, besides the ability to harness cursed energy of course. They made you stealthy, alert, observant.

And when Geto left you to cater to his followers, you decided to put your plan into action.

Your body is strung tight with the tension of waiting, agitation making you feel as if you were unraveling at the seams - but something deep inside of your mind pleaded for you to stay. Agony and anxiety were plaguing you until you’ve found enough courage to get up and sneak out. Now, you had the chance to show off everything you’ve learned: sliding the doors shut so slowly that they don’t make a noise, walking down the corridors with socked feet, carefully putting the middle parts of your feet on the floor, instead of your heels, easily avoiding those parts that creak.

Sometimes, when he was immersed in his thoughts, he was amused by how faint your steps sounded.

An involuntary instinct warns you. It’s trying to convince you that he can see you through the eyes of bodhisattvas residing in the thangka paintings decorating the walls. You almost give up your quest as you glance at the depiction of Vajrabhairava. In all its anger, with its six faces and twelve limbs. A dreadful beast that defies death itself.

You don’t want to do this to him, do you?

You look away from the painting, focusing on getting your shoes on and climbing out through the window. As you’re squatting on the windowpane, you can see all of Tokyo stretched out beneath you. You’re a little bit annoyed that all temples are built on a mountain. A long way to go, but you can never know when this place will turn into a funeral pyre.

It’s a little bit too easy. There’s no sign of surveillance curses nearby, you only need to slide down on the wet tiles, jump up high, land in the mud and let yourself be swallowed by the darkness of the forest. You specifically picked your least conspicuous clothes to blend into your surroundings perfectly. And the cold and murky night will let you go safely. The leaves will conceal your tracks.

So many things are working in your favor tonight.

You know there’s no need to rush. You can only draw attention to yourself if you are running around, creating noise and disturbing the wildlife. You don’t even use a flashlight, you have to get used to the darkness, the full Moon will guide you with all her dazzling light. And after that, Tokyo will do the same, with its crowded streets and all its places to hide.

There’s a weird kind of tranquility in your heart. How the cold prickles your skin, the moisture in the air, the faint noise of the creatures dwelling under the leaves, up in the trees, singing, chirping, crawling. The scent of wet soil, the gentle caress of the wind…

Now, you feel free.

As you walk deeper and deeper into the woods, you feel lighter, you feel like you could fly away, like you could dance all the way towards your destination. You’re thinking about actually doing that, as if you got possessed by a strange spirit…

But the uneven, slippery ground makes you fall right into the mud. You squirmed a little, trying to get hold of a tree trunk and then…

Silence, dead silence.

Your heart sinks deep in your chest.

You know what it means. When nature falls silent. There’s…

There’s a threat nearby.

A primal instinct tells you to run.

There’s no way, there’s no fucking way that he already noticed you were gone.

Twigs whip at your skin as you’re running mindlessly. Wherever you end up, it will be fine, as long as you can enter the outskirts of the city. The cold night air stings your throat, your heaving breath leaves your mouth in puffy clouds. You feel the urge to cough, deep from your bone-dry lungs.

The ground beneath you turns soft and steep. You lose your poise, stumbling and rolling all the way down until you fall from a high clod of rain-washed soil. Your body collides with a cold, wet, yet incredibly hard and flat surface, fraying the skin on your palm and face. Your back and shoulders will be bruised by tomorrow, painting your body with black and blue spots. The pain ripples through your entire being, paralyzing you for a couple of moments.

As you slowly gathered your battered self from the ground with a grunt, you realize you landed on a road. It’s a good sign, you’re not so far from civilization. But instead of following the road, cutting through the forest is the wiser decision.

Your relief is short-lived, just like a may fly.

A sinister feeling takes hold on you. It makes you freeze, squeezing your insides. Like you’re sitting in the jaw of an eldritch beast. You slowly turn back to the direction of your fall.

The lights are flickering.

You grab on the guardrail for dear life. You try to fill your lungs with shaky breaths, your heart desperately beating against your ribcage. Your trembling knees barely keep you upright, yet nothing can make you move. You have been found, you’re defeated, there’s no point in running away from him. The injuries, the already forming bruises will only deplete your strength.

How could you fight him? You’re aware that if he wanted to, he could break your bones and twist your body at the joints with an arm behind his back.

How could you outrun him? He’s capable of summonning a swarm of curses before you even take a step.

How could you make war with him?

Three of the lamp lights were already out, you stared into the darkness, the boundless abyss right before your eyes. You can’t even force yourself to blink.

And when the lights came back on, he was just standing there. Without breaking a sweat. Your pulse feels non-existent.

What infuriated you even more was that he wasn’t wearing his gojo-kesa. The motherfucker even gave you a head start by changing into something comfortable before he came to fetch you. Or simply he noticed your absence later than you expected.

Whatever, both is bad news for you.

He doesn’t utter a single word, he merely walks towards you. Slowly cornering you. Feasting on the terror on your face. Meanwhile you can’t unravel what could possibly be going on in his mind. The only thing you notice is that those violet sparks in his eyes are so sharp they could cut yours out of their sockets.

Should you give up? Should you beg for forgiveness?

But then, an idea blooms inside your mind.

You don’t hide your fear, you let your body tremble freely, fingers desperately clinging onto the metal, with your shoulders hunched to protect your neck and your wide, frightened eyes stare back at him. Letting him believe that you won’t fight back. That he can take you back to the temple and throw you back into your cage.

And when his foot hits the bisector, you jump. Right into the nothingness behind your back.

You fall on leaves and broken twigs again. You roll and roll with such speed you can’t comprehend the growing distance. Not even having an idea of how far you’re from him. Small rocks, branches, hardened roots of trees, bones all cut, scratch and pierce you. But you endure it, you’ll undergo any torture if it meant you’ll be freed. Your only hope is that the adrenaline will deal with the pain.

Suddenly, you violently crash into a tree, the ridged texture imprints deeply into your stomach. Acid bursts from your throat. Your diaphragm didn’t avoid the hit either, breathing is not unlike Sisyphean task as you try to get your shaking limbs to stand. Your mind is disturbed by the lack of air and your desperate attempts at getting yourself together. You’re wheezing like a dog. You must look pathetic, you think.

It takes almost all of your mental strength to calm down and slowly breathe through your nose, your lungs finally opening. But Geto won’t let you recover, you hear the fallen leaves getting crushed under his feet. You take a few sharp, ragged breaths, like it’s the last drag of a cigarette before the train comes and then, you move.

You hide behind a thick pine tree, palms covering your mouth and nose. The lack of oxygen is just another frustrating hindrance to your successful escape plan. Dizziness fills your head like a thick fog and sucks the strength out of your shins, needing to lean against the trunk to keep yourself standing. You try to conceal your cursed energy with all your might. A tracker who’s untraceable is a useful pawn in the hands of the higher ups, this skill made you a cherished student back in the day. Back when everything was so… no, it’s only the nostalgia making you wistful, it wasn’t any better.

The rustling gets quieter, you wait until the sound eventually dies. An almost muted sigh of relief leaves your lips in a thick cloud, dancing in the cold air.

From the corner of your eye, a floating form cuts through the pale moonlight.

Looking closely at its shape, you realize what kind of curse it is. The beetle looking one that attacks instantly once it senses movement. You can’t believe it, you’re going to -

The curse drags itself into your aura, scanning your form that is fused with the pine. Every muscle is tensed, you’re stiff as a board, you suppress every reflex in your eye and empty chest. You’re just like a statue, a corpse, showing no signs of life. Only an agonizing scream echoes inside your skull. A scream that puts mental breakdowns to shame.

It’s like an eternity until the curse finally disappears from your sight.

You definitely look exhausted, your body is limp and heavy like lead. But you must keep going at all costs, even if you have no idea how many curses are sent after you. You walk around the mountain instead of going down like he’d expect it.

Slowly yet surely, you calm yourself down. You know that you’re still in his grasp, but you still have a chance to outsmart him. You go deeper and deeper, you’re near the heart of the forest now. The moonlight barely crawls through the leaves, it’s easier to navigate according to what you hear rather than to what you see. The surroundings are growing eerie, you ache for light and warmth. And the longing sucks a bit of spirit out of you.

Before you can start questioning yourself, the sound of running water fills your ears.

A narrow, yet fast running stream plowed through the forest. Though you were unsure of staying close to the stream, going through it and getting to the other side sounds like a smart idea. As you take a reluctant step, you realize the water is ice cold. And when you dive into it further, enduring the strong current, it’s not as shallow as you believed. You’re submerged all the way up to your thighs. At its deepest point, the stream hugs your waist. The cold makes your movements slow and rigid, your teeth clang together in a frenzy. The bottom is filled with smooth, flat pebbles, they make it easy to - 

You slip on the rounded, polished stones and fall into the stream. The freezing temperature makes your skin shrink, it prickles you like a thousand needles. Scared, you crawl around the bottom, trying to get a hold of something and emerge back to the surface. A sharp, burning pain wakes in your palm, tears streaming down your cheeks. You try to swallow your scream, but it wants to burst from your lungs, you grunt and whimper until you can bite down on your sweatshirt, letting the material muffle your shout. Your gaze fixates on your hand and even in the darkness of the night, you see blood oozing from the deep cut, from your own torn flesh. The urge to retch is strong.

You palm is plunged back into the cool water, in hope of easing the pain.

He calls out your name right behind you.

You crawl out of the water, running from him, just as before. It doesn't matter how many times you trip, fall, stumble. It doesn’t matter how your fresh wounds end up in the mud, you don’t have it in you care about the pain or the looming threat of an infection. You hear him trying to reason with you. You must come back home, you’re injured, you’re bleeding. He must take care of you.

Why are you running? Where could you go? Who’s going to help you recover?

No, you mustn’t let your determination crumble. But oh… it sounds so easy. Giving in to your hopelessness.

An evergreen bush becomes your shelter to collect yourself and check on your wound, which is aching from all the dirt and is still bleeding. Water is dripping from your hair, your clothes are soaked, makes it easier for the cold night air to bite into you, to shake the whole length of your body. Your fingers are hardly moving and have no strength in them. The adrenaline is starting to wear off. You feel alone, small, and vulnerable. You’re freezing, scarred and aching. All the things you see in the dark twist into creepy, threatening forms. Everything that surrounds you is suddenly dangerous. As a lonely spider crawls within your field of vision, you flinch. The world around you is evil and everything is after your flesh.

And the only person who can save you is the one you’re running away from.

What are you going to do now? Fight, flight, or freeze? Which instinct is going to win this time? Because comprehensible thoughts won’t work on you. Every little layer of a fully-fledged human with a conscience has been stripped from you. You left them scattered everywhere in the woods. You’re nothing more than a primordial shell of a being.

Ceremonial horns wake in the distance, soon followed by howling. They let the dogs out to hunt you down. Poor, little hare. Your own stupidity has woken up the beast.

Who is like unto the beast?

You defeat the paralyzing dread and decide on flight. You dash out from the bushes, but - Oh… your eye. Your soft doe eye. There’s something in it. And your tears have an oddly metallic taste on your tongue.

And power was given him over all kindreds, and tongues, and nations.

You wish you could see yourself from the outside, but you’re probably nowhere near as majestic as you think you are. Right now you feel like you’re the fastest, stealthiest creature who’s ever lived, even if your muscles are almost torn, weak, and tensed. This is the last crumb of your strength, this is your all.

And all that dwell upon the earth shall worship him.

You don’t dare to look back. You know he’s there. He’s so close, he’s orbiting around you like a moon does with its planet. As if all of this is a dance. A hunt is a dance with a coital rhythm. And mother nature is the audience to your deadly waltz.

And he doeth great wonders, so that he maketh fire come down from heaven on the earth in the sight of men.

He takes your hand in his. Gentle and kind. To not scare you any further. You snap like an electric current under his touch, but you break free and zigzag between the trees.

He grabs your waist. Forcefully. It scares you this time. You escape from his embrace before he can swallow you whole. But he might have bit your throat during the process, you feel something trailing down your collarbones. You hear your bones crack.

It was all a mistake. You are a mistake. But mistakes can be forgiven, right? He has forgiven you so many times, you can’t even think of a number.

You slide down on a slope, leaves stick to your clothes, and you drop onto a thick trunk of a fallen oak. Tensive pain ripples in your side. You should stand up and run, but you can’t move. You won’t move. What’s wrong with you? What kind of prey gives the fight up before its last breath? But you think about your frozen limbs, the pain in your palm, your back, your shoulder blades, everywhere. You think about home… you want to go home or be left here to die. But the thought of dying here, alone, makes your heart palpitate rapidly, like there’s not enough air to fill your lungs. Your breathing becomes desperate, panicked even. Your chest hurts, your ribcage is ready to break apart by your racing heartbeat. You press your palms against your head, clawing into your hair. Every little morsel of you is bursting into a tremor. The connection between your mind, your body and the world cease to exist. And that lovely, unlimited stretch of space inside your consciousness is shaken, it’s in utter chaos. Breaking into tiny little pieces, like glass, like porcelain. Tears and plucks like paper and fabric. Shrieks and wails, rejecting the only thing that makes all creatures on this plane of existence agitated over their own mortality.

You’re doomed.

Unconsciously, your limbs curl into the very same position you took when you saw the world for the first time, protecting your belly and face, making you seem small. Geto knows you only do that when you fear what might happen to you, despite being unaware of the kind of terror your brain had subjected you to. That’s why he approaches you slowly, making no sudden movements as he picks you up gently, like one would lift a porcelain figure from the ground. When you open your eyes, he had already settled you into his lap as the manta ray curse lifts the two of you up to mount the skies.

You have no idea if he hunted you down or saved you from your own demise.

What a defiant, ungrateful creature you are, you think. You tried so viciously to run away from your burden, and now you feel safe with him again, you dare clinging to him, you dare seek his warmth. The contradicting thoughts and desires torture you on the way back. There’s only one faint voice inside your head that’s capable of calming you down, able to keep your sanity intact…

You’re the lost sheep, and he’s the shepherd who searched all over the world to find you. And he’ll bring you back to the flock, and he’ll love you more than the rest of them.

Your false god. Your fallacious savior. Will he forgive you if you repent on your knees? Until they get bloody and bruised?

Back at the temple, he refuses to let you take even a step on your own. You weren’t born to run, to soil your soles with the ground that filthy monkeys walk on. You’re meant to be worshipped, to claim the whole world as yours beneath dainty, soft feet.

The warm lamplight and the comfort of your shared room helps you unwind. To shift back into a much more civilized, humanlike state. And as you practically glue yourself to the heater, you notice more dirt, more cuts, more blood marring your flesh than you expected.

When you take off your grimy sweatshirt, shoes, and socks, Geto is towering over you. There’s nothing imposing about him, he looks rather troubled as he sighs.

“What do I do with you?”

You roll your eyes. Oh, the good old rhetorical question. He has no idea if he should treat your wounds first, bathe you or break your leg just like the Gospel says.

“Come, let me take a look at your hand.”

You see your reflection in the mirror, and you’re horrified. Your right eye is bloodshot, a deep cut is splitting through your lower lip. You’re drenched in mud, already dried on your face along with some patches of wine dark blood. Together they seal the scraped skin on your cheek, makes your hair stick together into thick strands, accessorized with pine leaves and other remains from your little hike. You’re blistered and torn, you can barely recognize yourself.

It's pleasant to rinse your hands with warm water at the sink, but the sight makes your stomach twist. That nasty wound is too deep, it has to be sewn shut. A shiver races down on your spine when you see the first aid kit. He soaks a fresh gauze pad with wound solution and guides it towards the gaping cut with a pair of tweezers. The sting is horrible, the burning sensation rivals acid being poured straight into your flesh, it makes you grunt and hiss. He gives you a moment to breathe and collect yourself then he continues, despite your whimpers and twitching, tensed fingers. But the pain pales in comparison to when he swipes a new, clean pad inside your wound, cleaning it of all the filth. A pathetic cry erupts from your throat.

“Stop.” you sob, pulling your hand away to hug it close to your chest. You’re too distressed to realize that the temporary discomfort is necessary. But maybe this whole act is nothing but another one of his silly little games.

He places a finger under your eye, close to your lashes and collects your tears. The sight of you crying is somehow not worth of savoring to him. Before any little drop of your sorrow and regret can roll down your cheek like diamonds, he smears them, as if they could make your misery vanish. Well, they can’t. It frustrates you that you can’t let your feelings manifest because he’s ready to devour them just like his curses.

He doesn’t care that your face is caked in dirt, blood and tears, he lifts your chin up to kiss you. Deeply. You’re not reprimanded for not kissing him back.

You were right, he’s definitely toying with you. He makes it hurt before he soothes the ache. He creates a connection in your mind. Like you’re the dog of Pavlov, slowly conditioned to associate him with anything that makes the human heart fill with delight.

The tiles attract your attention much more than watching how the curved needle dives into your skin, how the thread closes the wound proficiently. Your features soften for a moment. Shoko would be so proud of him... Not for the reason he got so good at it though. He learnt to treat his wounds for the sole purpose of not letting a non-sorcerer doctor ever touch him.

He’s crazy. Vile. Petty. And delusional. It drives you crazy too.

But when your stitched hand is wrapped up in bandages, you seriously think about thanking him for putting up with you. For not being angry at you.

“Maybe this will make you reconsider your actions next time.” he remarks in a flat tone, concealing what’s going on in his mind.

You keep your gratitude to yourself.

But it’s not an easy task when he continues spoiling you, with so much care that it rivals motherly love. How he rinses all the grime out of your hair, how he gives you a moment of peace in a tub filled with plain, warm water, no bubbles or scented oils to irritate your scarred, sensitive skin. He dries you, brushes your hair and fills the whole bedroom with the calming notes of lavender and cedarwood coming from the incense burners. But he’s just so fixated on your injuries… every scratch, every surface level cut is thoroughly sanitized. It’s still humiliating, even when you’re the one sitting comfortably on the bed and he’s kneeling on the floor.

You’re afraid the extra pampering will twist your reasoning and resolve. That’s all part of the mind games he plays. You know he’ll go out on his way to prove that the world outside is cruel, that this is the only place where you’re safe, loved. In his proximity, under his hand.

And somewhere, deep down, you admit that he’s close to convincing you.

It makes you mad, you want to tear him to shreds, you want to weep for him just like Mary did under the cross. There’s still care, there’s still love under all those layers of burning hatred. What remains is twisted though, but it is there.

After you’re patched up, he glances up at you, thumb brushing your lip right next to that nasty cut. His other hand is resting where your thigh and knee meet. It’s a sign, a warning.

“Was it worth it, little lamb?” his tone is soothing and playful. So close to being outright mockery.

You reflect in silence, averting your gaze from him. All those scars and discolored skin, your disturbed mind, and the ache in your bones - you realize that your stupid little plan was futile. Totally unnecessary, it’s no achievement you can be proud of. At least if you’re not as masochistic as to pride yourself on your injuries. But the fact that he can recognize the parallels coats your answer with bile.

“No.”

Because you know that you can be so much more… There’re unlimited possibilities to a repented non-believer. And now you know that being his doubting Thomas has no benefits.

Maybe you did lose your faith in him, like the lamb in that story, to eventually realize how much you need him and vice versa. But you’re not satisfied with being a lost sheep. You just haven’t decided on your role in his Gospel yet. This is your call, you don’t know exactly which part of him calls out to you, but you’re satisfied with either of them. Whether it’s a prophet, a messiah, a beast, or the devil itself. The fallen Morningstar who used to be the favorite.

This can be your true Genesis.

“Go on, break my leg if you want to. There’s meaning in that, at least.” you dare echo his last words to Gojo, clean and low.

And your bones remain whole.

You’re relieved. Though you’re sick of his maneuvers with your mind, you’re aware their purpose is not to hurt you or punish you. These aching limbs of yours go limp as he crawls into bed next to you. The arm you were scared of coils around your waist. Viciously tight, much like a snake. The snake that corrupted Eve in the garden. The one that made her sin, got her cast out of paradise, the one that turned her whole world upside down. And maybe Eve did fall in love with the serpent, the worst creature that God had ever created. But even though he caused the fall of mankind, the serpent freed you from the clutches of a jealous, ungrateful god who denied knowledge from his own creations. Now you have the passion to rebel, to prove your creator wrong, to avenge his mistreatment. Give in to the temptation of your snake, believe his honeyed words, accept the fruit for a second time. Because you still remember the taste, oh so sweet and luscious. And with all the power he wields, you can win back your lost Eden or re-build it on earth, the home you’re both yearning for. It’s a promise between the two of you, silent, because words are not needed, only closure.

Something warm blooms inside your chest. Yes, that’s it! You can finally feel it now…

The very first ounce of belief.

[works-of-heart]

The fandom is so lucky to have you! We appreciate having you here and all that you contribute to it ❤️❤️

1. What brought you into the fandom?

2. What character(s) do you feel the most connected to and why?

3. Out of all of SJM’s books, which one means the most to you and why?

4. Out of all of the SJM couples (fanon, canon, endgame, etc) which one means the most to you and why?

Keep doing you ❤️

Awww!! Thank you so much! This really warms my heart!

1. I got into ACOTAR in 2020, I am not sure why I delayed so long, I was eyeing the series since 2018, and decided to dive straight in. Since the first book I was hooked and immediately picked up the rest of the series! I loved it so much but there wasn't anyone else I knew to talk about it with. So I found reddit and wanted to share my feelings.

I found some parts of the fandom so polarizing, and many of my thoughts and likes were the unpopular ones, so I retreated for a while. I recently stumbled back into Tumblr when I found that there were quite a lot of people here who enjoyed the books as I did and art and fics to share. I wanted to add to that, to be in this space and contribute my own works that I've been dying to share and geek out with others.

I've met so many incredible people in this fandom, many who are super talented and skilled artists and writers, others who contribute in their own ways, and I have been glad to be here ever since!

2. Honestly? Lucien and Elain.

Lucien because he doesn't ever really fit in. He's made a home for himself in spring yes, but then thar fell apart. He lost everything and is with two others who have been his companions and made their own way. He doesn't think a whole lot of himself, he doesn't believe he's needed, as he said "a whole lot of nothing." I resonate with this so much. I've had friends whole dumped me and left me for their own group, I've known what it's like to be invited into gatherings but feel so utterly alone and unwanted, those moments really sat with me when reading his parts of the story, and so I'm excited to see him find himself and grow into truly valuing who he is, realizing he isn't just some seventh son of a lord.

With Elain, the way she's seen by her family is something infeel all too well. She's the people pleaser, the one who tries to balance out the bad with good. She's the one people think is just simple, plain, and 'pleasant'. People think she's uninteresting because she isn't causing waves, that she just enjoys her hobbies and that's it. No one thinks she's capable of more and generally deny her of trying anything else. This really spoke to me on a personal level.

I resonate a lot with Elain who tries to make the best of every situation, but also has a side of her that many have yet to see.

3. I don't think I particularly have one that means the "most" to me persay. At least not yet. I would say the CC books hold a special place in my heart. My husband bought HOEAB on audio book and during a long road trip we listened to it and he was so into it, that it made me smile. He enjoys the series and eagerly bought HOSAB audio book so we took a long drive to listen to it.

4. This will come as no surprise to anyone that it's Elucien for me! The moment Lucien lunged for Elain to try and stop her from being thrown into the cauldron, I was already shipping them, and him whispering with shock "you're my mate" I was sold!

I don't know what it is about them, but the potential they have, the slow burn, the thought of Lucien having given up on true love after Jesminda, only to be given a mate in Elain??! I want it all! I want to see Elain and Lucien having the most tsundere romance, the kind where she's denying her feelings aloud as if it would assure her that she's totally not falling in love with him. The way we can see how their powers will sync, and find home in each other. Their relationship reminds me so much of my own journey with my husband that I can't wait to see it unfold.

I could go on and on as to why I personally love these two together, but at the end of the day, they bring me so much joy and have been the inspiration to so much of my artwork. ❤️

[cheesemonky]

Chapter 4: Leave My Heart For Scraps

Pairing: bsf!hyunjin x reader (college au)

Series Masterlist

Word count: 1.7k

Summary: Boys come and go, but you don't know how long this has been going on. You date, you break up and then you're running back to your best friend for support. Little do you know, it's more than support he wants to give.

The afternoon air was crisp, and the sunlight painted a warm glow on the bustling street. But there was still that lingering sense of irritation from the morning. As you entered, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the air, and you spotted Yeonjun sitting at a corner table, engrossed in his textbooks.

"Hey!" he greeted with a bright smile, his eyes lighting up as he saw you approaching. You returned the smile, the tension from the previous day's events slowly dissipating. As you settled down and opened your books, there was an unspoken agreement to focus on the task at hand — studying. The study session progressed smoothly. Yeonjun proved to be an excellent study partner, and you found yourself immersed in the material. Between discussions of coursework and shared laughter over study-related jokes, the atmosphere became increasingly comfortable.

As the day unfolded, you couldn't help but appreciate the stark difference in dynamics between Hyunjin and Yeonjun. The simplicity of your interactions with Yeonjun felt like a breath of fresh air, a departure from the complex web of emotions that had defined your recent experiences. During a break, Yeonjun looked up from his notes, a thoughtful expression on his face.

"Hey, do you want to go on a proper date sometime?" he asked, his words hanging in the air. The question caught you by surprise. Was Hyunjin right? Could you be getting yourself into a risky relationship again? The question hung in the air, and for a moment, time seemed to slow. You looked into Yeonjun's eyes, recognizing the genuine intent behind his words. Part of you wanted to say yes because he was such a nice person. Another part of you wanted to accept just to spite your best friend.

"Yeah," you replied, a smile forming on your lips. "I'd like that." Yeonjun's face lit up with a grin.

"Awesome! How about this weekend? We can grab dinner or do something fun — whatever you're in the mood for."

“Sounds great.”

The anticipation for the weekend date with Yeonjun lingered in the back of your mind as the week progressed. The simplicity and genuineness of your interactions with him were a welcome change from the complexities that had defined your recent experiences. Yet, there was a small voice within, echoing Hyunjin’s words of concern. Could you be diving into something new too quickly? As the weekend approached, you decided to set aside those doubts, determined to enjoy the evening ahead.

Yeonjun arrived at your date with a casual charm, a smile playing on his lips as he greeted you. The two of you decided to start the evening with dinner at a cosy restaurant known for its delicious cuisine. The atmosphere was light, filled with laughter and easy conversation. It felt as if you were getting to know each other on a deeper level, beyond just classmates or study buddies. After dinner, the evening spiralled nicely as you and Yeonjun explored the city. The city lights twinkled in the night, creating a magical backdrop for your date. Whether it was stumbling upon a street performer, trying out desserts at a local food truck, or simply strolling through a quiet park, each moment felt like nothing you had experienced before.

"I'm really glad we did this," he said, his voice carrying a warmth that matched the atmosphere around you. "It feels like we're on the same wavelength, you know?" The sentiment resonated with you, and you found yourself nodding in agreement.

"Yeah, it does," you replied, a genuine smile on your face.

As the night drew to a close, Yeonjun walked you home, a sense of contentment lingering in the air. The date had been everything you needed — light, enjoyable, and devoid of the heavy emotions that had characterised your recent past. As you stood at your doorstep, Yeonjun hesitated for a moment, as if contemplating something.

"Can I see you again?" he asked, his eyes earnest. A smile tugged at your lips.

"Of course," You replied, genuinely looking forward to the prospect. As the days unfolded, you and Yeonjun continued to spend time together. Whether it was grabbing lunch, studying together, or simply enjoying each other's company, the connection between you two deepened. The initial doubts you had harboured began to fade, replaced by a growing sense of comfort and companionship.

However, as your bond with Yeonjun grew, the space between you and Hyunjin seemed to widen. The strain in your relationship with Hyunjin continued to grow, and it became increasingly evident that he was grappling with a mix of emotions. Frustration, concern, and perhaps a hint of jealousy were all simmering beneath the surface. Your attempts to bridge the gap and maintain the friendship were met with subtle resistance. Conversations became more guarded, topics that were once shared freely now felt like walking on eggshells. Hyunjin's body language spoke volumes – averted glances, brief replies, and a noticeable discomfort whenever Yeonjun's name was mentioned. It seemed like every interaction was laden with unspoken tension. But Hyunjin knew that the dreaded day was soon to come.

If only you had noticed. If only you had tried to notice. You would’ve seen how long he’d been waiting. All the things he’d put himself through just so you’d feel at least an ounce of what he felt for you. But not all things can work out well. Sometimes he has to remember he’s not God’s favourite. All Hyunjin can do is watch and listen as you introduce Yeonjun to him. He wants to feel angry at both of you, but you look too good together. Likely better than he would’ve looked with you, he thinks. He was taller, his face giving off a radiance one could only dream of and a presence that could put even the angriest of people at ease. His fist clenched on its own as, through the corner of his eye, Hyunjin saw Yeonjun’s arm slink around your waist to pull you closer. They way your laughs harmonise was the only thing he could focus on. The amount of things he would tell him if they were alone. How he’ll never know her like Hyunjin does.

“Hey, you good?” You asked out of concern, your voice as sweet as usual.

“Yeah, you’re looking a little pale.” Hyunjin’s unwarranted anger only boils hotter as Yeonjun speaks. He doesn’t know, it’s really not his fault, but he just can’t help it. Nodding once, he replied.

“Yeah, ‘m fine. Just a little light headed. It’s whatever.”

“Do you want me to go to the infirmary with you? I don’t mind.” You suggested. That was a good idea, he thought. He could let himself cool down with the one person he really cared about.

“I’ll come with you both. In case.” Yeonjun butted in. Hyunjin thinks that, didn’t feel so strongly about her, they could’ve become great friends. Another him would’ve liked that, he thought. But this Hyunjin just wants him to leave. To leave and never return.

“No it’s fine, you have a class, and my next one is in a few hours. I’ll catch up with you later, okay babe?” God, she was the most perfect angel in

 his eyes. It was like she could read his mind. He smiled curtly at Yeonjun as he made his way to the infirmary with you, but not before Yeonjun managed to kiss her cheek. Hyunjin didn't know what was worse, the fact that you seemed to like it or that he had to watch it. Though, when the two of you left, it was a quiet walk, quieter than your usual conversations. It’s mainly Hyunjin’s fault, pushing you away like that just because you got another boyfriend.

“You’re looking a bit better now. Maybe you just needed some fresh air, hm?”

“Probably. Thanks for offering to come with me though.”

“You’re my best friend, I had to.” Best friend. Nice words, but still not what he wanted to hear.

“So do you like him?” Right. Best friend. Best friends talk about other men.

“I don’t think he’s good for you. I’m sorry.” Hyunjin blurted out. You went quiet after that. Maybe you shouldn’t have asked a question where you knew you weren’t getting the answer you wanted.

“Are you really okay? I mean, you’ve been distant for quite a while now and you haven’t talked to me as much as usual. Or anyone for that matter.”

“I would talk to you, but you're all busy with your new boyfriend."

"Hyunjin." Both of you knew it wasn't true. You had tried so hard to make plans with Hyunin but his stubbornness wouldn't allow it. "Tell me the truth. Please?"

"I'm fine, okay? Don't worry about me. Just a little upset over... work stuff and all that." He smiled sweetly, bringing his hand down to ruffle your hair softly. "I'm also sorry. About our last argument. I shouldn't have said those things."

"You're good, you were just trying to look out for me. And I get it, even now, it hasn't been long since the last one. So actually I should be saying thanks for caring." His small chuckle was like music to your ears. How you had missed that sound. Youd do anything to have your happy Hyunjin back. For a moment, neither of you had anything to say, just looking into each other's eyes without making a sound. He shuffled closer and placed his hand atop yours. Before he could come any closer, your phone buzzed in your pocket. He groaned internally as you pulled it out.

[JJUNIE] is hyunjin ok now?

[ME] mhm why??

[JJUNIE] can we talk in the library after my class pls?

[ME] sure omw!! I'll wait there for u

"Do you have to go already?"

"Yeonjun wants to talk in the library later." His hand fell away from your own. He hates the way you look so excited to talk to him.

"Right. Bye, I'll see you around..?" You nodded truthfully at his question. You wanted more than just seeing each other around, you wanted to hang out like you used to. But for now, he just watches as his best friend leaves his heart for scraps again.

taglist: @mumusreblogs @2minstan @jinnie-ret @want2besomeoneelse @luvyblossom send an ask to be on the taglist!!

leisel's note: erm i wrote 3/4 of this in half and hour so my apologies if some bits make literally no sense :3

[barbthebuilder]

Recently, someone close to me sent me a video (coloring pridecats for pride month) and it was about the identity genderfaun. I didn't know what it meant at first but once it was explained smth kinda just, clicked? I guess? The description of being genderfluid but never feeling very feminine really resonated with me and I think that might be what I am. Should I start using this label? I know that most people don't even know what being genderfluid IS let alone the separate categories of it, so I'm worried that a lot of people won't get it when I explain it to them. T-T What do you think the best course of action is?

(sry for the random ask i was just feelin kinda conflicted on this topic)

Yo! I'm glad you reached out to me in the times of uncertainty. We all need a little guidance sometimes :)

Finding a new label, especially a more specific one, can be both a source of comfort and stress. Just like you said - even though you like the label and it fits, you are worried how others will perceive you because of that.

My advice is: put yourself first. There are some people that won't understand and that's okay. Be okay with people not really getting you. Sometimes, just wanting to understand is enough. Be authentic, be yourself - offer what you have and if someone is not willing to accept it, so be it.

I'm sure there is a community of genderfaun people there that will offer support and help you embrace your true self. It can be helpful with self-discovery and slef-expression, to help you shape who you are.

However, sometimes when it's appropirate to you can simplify your label. If you don't want to get to niddy-griddy you can just say "I'm genderfluid" or "I'm nonbinary" or even just "I'm one of those queers". It's okay. You don't need to explain your identity to everybody if you don't want to.

Supressing it may be not the best idea (however sometimes it's the only way out) but forcing it out may be harmful too. Just stay true to yourself and listen to your heart.

There is no "should" there is no "must". You can do whatever you want to forever.

Super proud of you for exploring your identity even if it's scary :) you got this! Good luck <3