#and its nice when the people/citizens get involved :))

[cosmicrhetoric]

finished dressrosa on my lunch break......shrek 2 ass arc.....waauahg !

[see-arcane]

I am almost fine with people saying he has one brain cell, because I have seen dozens of people make the worse claim that he is "an arrogant, smug, proud of his rationality Victorian who laughs at the locals for their superstitions."

It is such a prevalent assesment that it's now considered a core character trait of his. When today's entry indicates nothing of the sort.

UH OH, YOU’VE ACTIVATED MY TANGENT CARD

(Text Brick Incoming)

Jonathan’s fundamental flaw at this stage does involve looking down on or viewing the locals and their traditions as quaint/idolatrous/ridiculous et al. He uses poor terminology too, owing to the Doylist reason of his author’s knowledge and biases, while the Watsonian reason is easy enough to read as Jonathan 1) Having to rely solely on biased/incomplete knowledge from his homeland’s writings on the place and 2) What I think is him trying to overcompensate as a trained reflex

I’ve always pictured Jonathan and Mina as having not only a lower social and monetary standing, but possibly a hindrance of race. (Case in point, I suspect a certain unique prop Jonathan brandishes later on is something he inherited, not something picked up by happenstance.)

That said—they are poor, they are not the idealized picture of the fair English Citizen…but they are both polite, charming, hardworking, and masters of ~making friends~ as a defense mechanism. And I’d bet money that included relying on what few positive nods their peers allowed.

“You’re so nice! So industrious! Your physiognomy really counters your origins! And you are wise enough to look down on those silly foreigners, aren’t you? Of course you are! You’re one of the good ones.”

Now, regardless of what headcanon is landed on as far as race/ethnicity/other backgrounds go, those last points are key. Because they go towards Being a Good Englishman/woman. Being wiser than to buy into fretting non-English superstitions. Knowing to ogle the people of other lands like curiosities in a zoo. Judging people by their face or the shape of their skull. This is the Norm. This is Good of the Victorian Englishman Abroad.

And we see Jonathan hold to all these stereotypes…to a degree. But we see within these same early entries that his instincts and general good nature chafe against that social training. He’s too much himself to do entirely as a Proper Englishman should.

He went out of his way to study all the limited info he had access to, incomplete or half-informed as it was. He delighted in learning everything he could of the places and people as he traveled, wanting to embrace and be educated on the land. And even when a lifetime of advising against it, of insistence upon derision, tried to take over when the crucifix was offered? He still accepted it. He still wears it even when the old woman departs, whether or not he believes in its importance.

And, vitally, his instincts are very Very awake to the fact that Something is Off. A Proper Englishman (and many an oblivious or stubborn dad in a ghostly horror movie) would shrug this unease off at once. But Jonathan doesn’t. He remains on Dracula’s route only because he has no other choice. All he does is mention quietly that he hopes Mina gets his diary if he happens to die on this journey.

Imagine that. Bracing for and acknowledging the sense that You Might Die on This Little Business Trip and just…having to go along with it. Because what will you tell your boss otherwise? What will you tell your fiancée?

These aren’t the concerns of a well-off stuffy snob of a man. It’s the resignation of someone who understands they live on the lowest rung of the ladder and that they will risk losing what little progress they’ve made if they dare to turn back.

As for sneering at the locals’ superstitions, period, consider: How likely would anyone really be to suddenly believe in monsters after coming out of the background Jonathan has? What could possibly have convinced him of the reality of the situation OTHER THAN SEEING IT IN PERSON? (Note, a key plot point for certain other characters later!)

The point of his being unable to take the supernatural aspect at face value is that, well, Why Would Anyone Immediately Jump to a Supernatural Conclusion in His Place?

What possible context does he have here!? Maybe he should have read Dracula first, ha ha—

Oh wait. He can’t do that. Why?

Because this man has never read Dracula BECAUSE HE IS LIVING AND WRITING THE BOOK DRACULA!!

Anyway.

tl;dr: I am very tired of both the Stuffy Victorian Snobprick and Oblivious Idiotbaby takes on my good friend Jonathan Harker

[shakirawastaken]

dsmp if... they were spiderman

i love spiderman just like every other bitch out there

dream: - do not be surprised if he comes out one day and claims hes a demigod and superhero and a wizard - cause if its anybody its this guy fr - if he was spiderman he wouldnt have the main and basic color scheme - hed go green like everything - green is the main color like the evermore green and black/white as the accent colors - his string also wouldnt be normal spider string i feel like itd be neon ish like miguels from the movie - he would also avoid telling you that he was spiderman till the very last moment - he would wanna keep you safe the best he can - would nEVER swing by your house - but he keeps an eye out on you when he knows ur out and about walking - but when you eventually figure it out? boy oh boy - cornering you in the street and pushing you into an alleyway - spiderman poses in front of you, hanging from his web - gives you upside down kisses???? sign me tf up - hed also get himself just the right amount involved in the crime he fought - he knows how to balance his life out, and he knows how important it is to be able to balance his life out like that - hot as spiderman  sapnap: - a reckless spiderman - leans vigilante  - out of all of them he would be the one with the suit closest to the spiderman - but im not feeling the blue - marroon and black or some other brighter color - a rash spiderman - fights crime like no business, but kinda makes a mess along the way - its okay bc the people love him - loves loves LOVES arguing with cops - tells you almost immediately after becoming spiderman bc he has to tell someone - breaks every canon event - trash talks every criminal out there - but is nice to every citizen he sees - likes webshooting your wrist to the counter or something so you cant leave or go out or smth - forces you to spend time with him :) - likes to keep out of interacting with people as spiderman  - but will use it as argument bait in day to day life - makes a hammock out of webs and lays there between two buildings - overall 7/10 spiderman

george: - is barely spiderman but when he is hes darn good at it - he leaves a lot of the petty crime to the cops - only goes out for the big stuff - dark navy blue suit with black accents - stays in the shadows/on top of buildings - doesnt interact with anyone if he can help it - the more secretive he can keep the better - he told you a fair amount of time after he went out as everyones crime fighting superhero - but he doesnt like to talk about being spiderman  - and youre fine with that, as long as he stays safe - he swings to your window every night after hes done being spiderman - hed rather be with you than someone else after the hard night hes probably had - has a habit opening your window without knowing and jumpscaring you accidentally LMFAO

karl: - oh he LOVES BEING SPIDERMAN - hes the spiderman to be on every cereal box and phone cover and talk show - loves taking pictures especially with little children in their own spiderman costumes - after he captures and ties up every criminal he leaves a little goofy aah note for the cops to laugh at - unlike sapnap he has a great rep w the cops  - he told you after he “test” ran it - actually he just showed up with the mask on and you were like “SPIDERMAN OMG LET ME CAL MY BF” - and then spidermans phone was ringing and you were like - “what” - “im spiderman!” - “WHAT” - his suits like - i feel like it changes color in the sun - its one of those suits - and hes the only one out of all to have an assistant ai thing in his suit to lead him through crime - he might be a more light hearted spiderman but he still deals with the same dangerous crime

quackity: - this guy loves to swing - he will put his headphones on and jump off the nearest building - mona lisa by dominic fike - soars to the ground and then swings up at the last moment - swings to the beat of the music to relax - he has the normal suit i think - but he has his hair comin out of the suit like pavitr  - loves to take you swinging - even if you may find it terrifying - he likes the feeling of sharing with you his favorite activity - fights crime like no ones business - he told you like a few months after being spiderman - he just jumped down from the ceiling  - “? what” - “spiderman!” - “...what” - yeah  - idk all i can think of is that quackity likes to swing around the city just for the heck of it - “WOAH ITS SPIDERMAN” “YEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA” 

wilbur: - has a black suit like miles - tommy is his guy in the chair LMFAO - in his ear like “SWING LEFT I MEAN RIGHT I MEAN LEFT” - mutes tommy half the time - leaves you little messages in web on the walls of the house - “love you!” but its in spider web - actively holds a conversation with the people hes fighting - “so hows your day?” *PUNCH* “hows ur kid doing?” *OBLITERATES* - uses physics and shit to his advantage cause hes not that built - another one whos hot as spiderman - never EVER brings you out as spiderman - EVER - will bring tommy tho - cause tommy annoys him into doing - “BIG UPS WILBUR!!” “SHH TOMMY” - is spidermans biggest fan even though hes spiderman - “they will never suspect spidermans biggest fan as spiderman!” - smart ngl 

guys all i can think about is spiderman its a dilemma an issue a problem  sorry for the short headcanons i had to get my thoughts out of the way!

[astro-pioneer]

Hello! Nice to meet you!

Could I request Kaveh, Ayato, and Zhongli's s/o telling them "You're not royalty, but you are the ruler of my heart!"?

king of my heart!

not being royalty doesn’t concern him when he’s a ruler in your eyes (and heart). 『kaveh, ayato, zhongli』

kaveh!

All Kaveh did after the Interdarshan Championship was mope, and it was starting to aggravate Alhaitham. In his eyes, it made no sense to be upset about something you did yourself, but he knew that sharing his thoughts to the blond would do nothing but cause him to start a petty argument that only he's involved in. He doesn't know how you deal with him most of the time, if he's honest.

Luckily you invited Kaveh over to your house. It was mostly to help Alhaitham more than your boyfriend. "You know," you started while at the stove, "the things you did were very noble." His head perked up from where he was setting a plate at the table. "Sure, you don't have that insane amount of wealth that was promised or were able to parade in the diadem, but who cares? You're great in my eyes, and you don't need the money or crown of a king to rule my heart."

Sniffles sounded from behind you before his arms were wrapped around you, his pretty face damp with tears. "Oh, you're so lovely! Where would I be without you?" You extinguished the fire in front of you before moving away from the hot metal on the burner. You didn't want to reply and stuck to comforting him, but he'd probably still be moping on the couch in Alhaitham's house until he got sick of it and locked the blond out.

ayato!

He was known to be the head of the Kamisato Clan, used to working more behind the scenes for the more draining issues regarding the nation. However, even though that was the role he preferred to play, it was not hard to see that the male wished to be recognized for his accomplishments.

Ayato allowed you to hear his thoughts late one night. He clarified that no, he does not regret any choices that got him in this position. That'd basically be saying that he regrets every moment he experienced while being in this position. That'd basically be saying he regrets ever meeting and falling in love with you. He also spoke about Ayaka being the main public affairs leader and that he doesn't wish to have her role either (he was also told by multiple people that he can be seen as a little intimidating with how he does things).

Ayato wishes for more recognition for the job he's had to bear and a horrifically young age. Despite how it seems, many Inazuma citizens appreciate what he does; it's just hard to express that appreciation with a figure of high authority that no one really sees. He poured out his insecurities that tender night, and you were right there to soak it all in and comfort him. "My dearest Ayato, though you have these doubts, please always remember that even though you don't think of yourself as royalty, you'll always be the ruler of my heart, no matter what."

zhongli!

Zhongli was lost when he stepped down from his spot as archon. While observing his people when he was getting accustomed to being a normal mortal, it did not allow himself to see the more emotionally intimate parts of humans. The parts of insecurities, times where unknown feelings introduced themselves.

They first appeared while you were enjoying a night out at the harbour. He mentioned it out of the blue, quiet enough for no other patrons to hear him. "Darling, do you see me as less than since I stepped down?" The look you gave him was enough for him to go back to the story being told, but not for you. You didn't want to allow him to feel even an ounce of worthlessness without you reassuring him that the thoughts are lies.

"Less than? Archon, adeptus, funeral parlor worker, whatever you wish to be, you'll always be Zhongli to me. Besides, even if you no longer rule over a nation with the title as 'god', you'll forever rule my heart." His gloved hand interlaced its fingers with yours, his thumb rubbing soothingly on the back of your hand. It was silent, the thank you, but it was there and that's all you needed.

[justmeinadaze]

Scary Monsters and Nice Sprites (Steddie X You)

A/N: This is that idea I told y'all about when my PTSD was really bad last week. I actually liked writing some of this out <3. It did help a bit. I wish I had them and a Red to help me through those rough days.

I did set this after the events of Season 4 so slight spoilers involving Max mostly. Im kind of excited to explore a bit more of Steve's PTSD involving the show. I did it a bit here. I also chose to utilize my own trauma as the readers trauma. I'll delve a bit more in the warnings.

Anyone struggling with their mental health, you are not alone <3. You're feelings are valid and we just have to take things one day at a time. I love you :)

Warnings: Steddie X Fem Reader, No smut yet, Fluff with the reader trying to make them feel better and vice versa. Angst, trauma involving the show is mentioned especially with Steve's feelings of what happened to Max, mentions of Eddie being blamed and the town treating him like trash, he does talk about his abuse as a child very briefly as does the reader. No details are mentioned just that it happened. Reader has a panic attack that the boys help her through.

I do expand on symptoms of PTSD and how the reader feels. Symptoms of mental health can be different for everyone so I focused more on what I experience with my own PTSD. As I progress in the chapters and she becomes more open with them I will most likely talk about things that happened to me. I didn't want to generalize what she was going through mostly because its hard. PTSD and trauma are complicated in it of its self so...

Word Count: 5314

You had been coming to this group for years because of your mental health. Your doctor suggested it stating that it might help you to hear from other people going through the same thing you were. Truth be told it never worked. The other people in this post traumatic stress support group were mostly military vets or officers who had just moved to Hawkins to “get away from the chaos.” You imagined it was a quite a shock for them when the earthquake hit…

While a lot of their symptoms and aftermath stories were similar to yours, you struggled to connect. If anything, you felt more alone. So why did you keep coming back?

Routine, maybe. Or the need to have any kind of human contact since you spend the bulk of your time by yourself at home. Hell, you even worked from home so the only living thing you interacted with on a daily basis was your service dog, Ren. You rarely ever spoke in group, choosing to sit there and listen to the other people speak. 

Since the earthquake, however, more people had joined to your dismay. Most of the citizens that came in took up most of the time talking about the event and how scared they were about what happened. You tried not to let the disgust show on your face when they spoke, understanding that everyone experiences things differently but they didn’t really know. 

They didn’t know what it was like to spend years replaying an event in your head even when you’re asleep. To have those moments where something that would be random to someone else meant something significant to you triggering a panic attack that knocked you on your ass for the rest of the day. They didn’t know what it was like to be so scared to even go to the fucking grocery store to get essentials without the fear that everyone is talking about you and judging you because you’ve been standing in front of the canned goods for a little bit too long wondering if you buy this will you actually eat it or will it just sit there for months at a time because some days you don’t feel like eating. 

Your PTSD consumed a lot of your life for most of your life whereas these people were just now stepping into it and were most likely going to step right back out. After a few months, you were correct. All those citizens gradually stopped coming in till it was just the regular survivors once again. 

After grabbing some coffee, you and Ren sat in your usual spot, waiting for the meeting to start. The dog grabbed your attention when he whined and without warning placed his head on the stranger beside you. 

“Oh. Hey, buddy.”, he coos as his big hand reaches down to pet his head. 

“I’m sorry. He probably senses your anxiety.”

“Well shit. He’s not wrong. I’m not really good at any of this.”, he gestures around the room. “But some of my friends insisted we come so…”

“We?”

“Yeah, um…” The boy’s eyes glance up towards someone headed for the seat next to him and it takes you a moment to realize everyone else’s eyes on him as well. 

You recognized his face immediately, Edward Munson. The metalhead had been accused of being a satanic worshipper who murdered a bunch of teens a few months ago. He had been cleared of those charges thanks to the help of the old police chief, some detective journalism by Nancy Wheeler, and his friend… “Steve Harrington?”

“That’s me. Do I know you? My memory isn’t what it used to be.”

“She had school with us and graduated along with you, Harrington.”, Eddie sighed as he folded his arms.

“Oh. I’m sorry. What was your name?”

“You look different.”, you blurted before turning away from him and closing your eyes. “I’m…I’m sorry. Sometimes…my mouth moves before…before my brain catches up.”

Ren senses your heightened anxiety and places himself between your legs so you can pet his head, down his back. 

“Alright everyone, let’s get started.”, the overly cheery coordinator grins as he sits down and crosses his legs. While glancing at his clipboard, he addresses the circle. “Does anyone have anything they’d like to share before we get going?”

“Why is he here?”, someone sneers as they point towards the metalhead. 

“He should be in a cell not in group therapy.”, says another.

“Hey now. Mr. Munson is entitled to care just like everyone else and I expect you guys to treat him with the same respect we do everyone else. If that’s going to be a problem, I completely understand, feel free to leave and meet us at our other scheduled time on Thursday.”

Half the people in the room stood up and walked out, the last person slamming the door of the room for emphasis. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Steve pat his back comfortingly as Eddie lets out a deep, heartbroken sigh.

“Would either of you like to introduce yourself to the rest of the group?” 

The metalhead continued to glare forward as Steve spoke up. “As some of you may know, I’m Steve Harrington and this is my friend Eddie. Our other friend Robin suggested we try this since we, uh, we’ve been having some trouble lately.”

“Good, very good. Nice to meet you both. This is a safe space so please feel free to be open here.”

“Thank you.”

“Let’s, uh, let’s continue down the line here. Y/N? Do you feel like talking? I see Ren is on duty today. Something you’re anxious about?”

“Everything.” The man chuckles as people around the room nod in agreement. “I’m ok today, thanks.” 

The remainder of the meeting goes by smoothly without any incident and as it ends everyone rises to leave except the two people next to you. They expect you to leave as well but when you stand, instead of heading for the door you place yourself next to Eddie. He doesn’t move or make any gestures to acknowledge your presence and you’re ok with that. You aren’t really one for small talk or anything like that but something about his demeanor gave you a gut feeling that you decided to expand on. 

Your therapist was always preaching about learning to trust your gut and positive self-talk making your eyes roll every time. 

“Um, this is Ren. He’s a service lab for me because I, uh, I get shaky and anxious really easily. He can sense when I’m nervous or about to have an attack so he helps ground me. I can just pet him or he’ll let me hold him. At home, he’s trained to bring me my medication.”

Steve watches you speak, seemingly trying to get a read on you while Eddie continues to stare straight ahead. You can tell he’s listening though because his head tilted ever so slightly towards you as you began explaining things. Personally, he was so ecstatic to hear a stranger talk calmly with him but he couldn’t display that for fear of ruining the moment or worse, it being a lie.

“Do…do you want to pet him?” 

His head finally whips around to look at you as his eyes scan yours. Swallowing nervously, he sat up straighter, rolling his eyes in faux frustration as his palm reached out to pet the dog’s head. 

“Why Ren? How did you come up with that?”, Steve asked.

“The morning before I got him, I saw Footloose at the cinema. I like Kevin Bacon’s character and his name was Ren. Do you want to see something cute?” Without waiting for an answer, you stood in front of them and motioned for the lab to stand in front of you. Holding out your hands, you sang the Footloose theme song and he jumped up to place his paws in your hands to dance with you.

Both men smiled and you knew you’d never be able to explain why but it comforted you. 

“I, um, I know this town can be full of assholes but I hope you do come back next week. Craig, the coordinator, will take care of you. He’s a little quirky but he’s nice.”

Again, you don’t wait for an answer as you gather your things and Ren before heading out the door. 

****

When Steve got home that night, he immediately went on the hunt for his yearbook. 

“What are you doing, man?”, Eddie whined as he threw himself on the bed. 

“Looking for my yearbook. I’m surprised I don’t remember her. The guy said Y/N, do you remember her last name?”

Of course, he did. When you were in school together, he had a few classes with you especially English. Junior year you wrote a story that the teacher made you read in front of the class about a girl who was hiding in a forest behind a tree as she watched two monsters argue about how they were going to eat her when they found her. The other kids thought you were weird but he identified with it; picturing his parents fighting as you read.

Eddie never found the courage to speak to you but he was always your hidden knight, watching over you. One of the party boys had talked about how they fucked you and how much of a freak you were so he slashed the kids tires and spray painted “Asshole” in big, bold letters on his car. You probably didn’t remember but on valentine’s day he had slipped a note in your locker that was a drawing of you battling your monsters you had written about. 

“No. Come on, Harrington. It doesn’t matter. It’s not like we’re going back anyway.”

Steve paused his search as he sat down and crossed his legs. “Why wouldn’t we go back?”

“I don’t know if you noticed but people weren’t exactly excited I was there.”

“Fuck those people. At least one person was excited. Two if you count the dog.”

“Yeah sure. Let ruin that by bringing her into our shit. Plus, it’s not like we can tell anyone or talk about what really happened.”

Steve sighed as he got up to sit beside him. “Ed, first off, there isn’t shit to bring her into. Vecna’s dead; we killed him. Secondly, we don’t have to talk about what happened…just what happens after.”

“Really? You want to play that game, Steven? He may be dead but we still got shit. Max is still in a coma, Dustin is still struggling, the town is quite literally cut in half, and ALL of us still have fucking nightmares with all that other fun post traumatic shit. Things are still so out of whack we haven’t even told our friends about us yet.”

“They have enough on their plates.”

“Exactly. So, I reiterate, why do you want to bring this girl into our chaos?”

The man sighs again as he hangs his head making Eddie feel a little guilty as he leans his head on his shoulder while reaching for his hand.

“I don’t know. There’s just something about her that makes me feel comfortable and safe.”

###########

“You came back.”

“Yeah, it took some convincing but…”, Steve grinned. “Hey Ren. May I?”, he asked before petting the lab when you nodded. 

“How are you feeling today, Eddie?”

The metalhead softly smiles at you as he tilts his head in your direction. When the meeting begins you can already feel that the energy is different. One of the regulars is extremely agitated today as his leg bounces and he folds his arms. As soon as Craig reaches him, he shouts his problem as he struggles to control the volume of his voice. Your eyes close as you try to stay present and remind yourself that your safe.

No, no, no. Please. I can’t have a panic attack here in front of all these people. Everyone will look at me. They’ll think I’m weak. No, no, no.

“Y/N?”, the coordinator calls your name and you fold into yourself. “Y/N, you’re ok. You’re safe.”

Ren places his front paws on your knees as he rests his head on your shoulder. You couldn’t do this, pushing him back as you stumbled out the door into the hallway before sinking to the floor.

Your service dog continued to do what it was trained to do as he ran after you and laid beside you in your arms. The sound of your bag and a bottle of water being placed beside you startled you but you couldn’t move to acknowledge it.

You felt your head being lifted and placed on something relatively soft as you continued to try and calm down. It took a few moments but once you felt like you could breathe you opened your teary eyes to see Eddie looking towards the window.

“Hey, hey, take your time.”, Steve soothed in a soft tone when you tried to sit up. “I grabbed your bag and some water. Do you need your meds or anything?”

“C-C-Can you help me?”, you asked as you reached your arms back to try and push yourself to a sitting position. He leaned over to help you adjust as you laid against the wall with your head on the metalhead’s shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry for.”

“I didn’t want you laying your head on the hard floor. I hope that was ok.”, Eddie tenderly grinned. 

You nodded, watching heavily as Ren dug his snout in your purse before producing your medicine and placing it on your lap. 

“Good boy. Steve, in there is his treats. Can you give him one?”

He smiled as he did what you asked and your dog wagged his tail happily. 

“Do you need help?”, Eddie whispered.

“I don’t want to be any trouble.”

Without saying a word, he grabbed the meds from you lap and opened the bottle, shaking one into his hand and popping it closed. He placed the pill near your mouth and your eyes met his as you slowly opened, allowing him to place it on your tongue before holding the edge of the water to your lips and tipping it back. 

“You’re not any trouble. I…we…appreciate you being as kind as you have been to us.”

As he extended his arm to place everything back in its proper place, his jacket sleeve slid up and you noticed some slight scaring around his wrist. When he felt your eyes on him, he followed your glance, quickly covering it up as he leaned back. 

“Thank you for coming out here. You didn’t have to. I struggle with aggressiveness like what Jeremy did in there.”

“Is that not normal for him?”

“Usually, no but I imagine this earthquake and the aftermath hasn’t helped him with his flashbacks.”

“How has it been for you?”, Steve asked.

“Um, not to chaotic. I had a harder time a few months prior when this town was going crazy and playing police officers like they were the law or something. Oh shit. Eddie, I’m so sorry. I didn’t even—”

“No worries, sweetheart. I’m used to it now; the stares, gossip, and questions.”

“Should you be?”

His eyes met yours again before quickly looking away as the door to the group area opened and people filed out. The man who had been yelling came over to where you were sitting and apologized in a much more gentle tone then he had previously. After accepting it and smiling towards him, you slowly wobbled to your feet with Steve helping to guide you.

“Are you ok to drive? We can take you home if you’d like.”

“No, I’m alright. I just need to eat something and get a little energy back.”

“Would you like to have dinner with us?”, Eddie offered carefully.

“Sure.”

***

As the three of you entered the restaurant, your eyes darted around as your brain did its regular anxiety check. You made sure to clock where all the exits were and how to get to them, scanned the current patrons to make sure no one was someone who would hurt you, and marked which seat you would prefer to be in just in case you needed to run. 

When you glanced towards Steve, you blinked back surprise when you realized he was doing the same thing. 

“I have to leave, Harrington, but get it to go and we can eat in my van. If that’s ok with you.”

You nodded, panicking slightly as he walked back out the door, unsure of what he was hiding from. To avoid another episode, you did the same leaving the other man to order. When you made it outside you found Eddie in the driver’s seat smoking a cigarette, his eyes darting to you when you climbed into the passenger’s side. 

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. I saw Jason’s parent’s eating at a table so…”

“I never thought you killed those kids.” As soon as the words blurted out, your eyes squeezed shut. “I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.”

Finger reached out to touch your arm causing your eyes to open again, meeting his kind chocolate-colored ones. 

“You don’t have to keep apologizing.”

When you apologize again, both of you let out a breathy, genuine laugh. 

“When I saw on the news what happened to Chrissy, I knew you couldn’t have done it. Yeah, you were always loud in school but you were also really sweet… at least from what I remember.”

You two jumped when Steve opened the back of the van and threw himself in. “Eddie, go.”

Without any hesitation, he started to put the vehicle in gear but he wasn’t fast enough as Jason’s father appeared by his window and aggressively knocked on the glass. 

“Where do you think you’re going, freak?! You’re the reason my son and his girlfriend are dead!”

“Go, Eddie!”, Steve commanded.

The metalhead slammed his foot on the gas and sped off with the man shouting behind him. The rest of the ride was silent until he parked near the hill that surveyed the town. You watched as he continued to grip the wheel like a lifeline as his chest rose and fell. You wanted to help but you didn’t know exactly how. They only thing you could think of was to grab his palm and place it on Ren’s head. The dog was used to limp pets as Eddie’s hand lazily fell down his back but he promptly rested his head on his lap as you praised him. 

Steve leaned over the seat and placed his arms around him as he whispered things in his ear furthest from you. After a few moments his hand began to move against Ren’s fur making the dog’s tail wag as the other boy released him from his hold. 

“Come on. Let’s eat.”

############

It was actually the perfect evening for eating outside. The van doors remained open as the three of you munched on your meals in the back. From this spot Hawkins looked different; less chaotic than it was.

While you guys ate you casually talked about yourself. They told you some general things about themselves and you did the same. Even though you felt safe with them you didn’t want to bombard them too much with the mess that was your life. You felt like they were holding back as well, omitting certain information they were afraid to tell.

“You can work from home, you know?”, you mentioned after Eddie brought up how hard it was to find a job because of who he was. “That’s what I do.”

“I could do that.”

“Wouldn’t that be hard for you, Ed? You’re very talkative and outgoing. Don’t you like thrive off of people or some shit.”

“Thrive off of people… No, Harrington. I’m not a vampire.” They grinned at each other when you giggled. “I mean it wouldn’t be much different. Everyone already thought I was a freak beforehand. Now I’m just a murdering freak.”

Everyone went silent as the metalhead turned away to glare outside. 

“You should stop saying things like that.”, you murmur. 

“It’s how they feel.”, he shrugs.

“Who cares how they feel. What matters is how you feel and the truth. You didn’t do it so stop saying it.” Eddie’s eyes jerked towards you as your tone got more agitated.

“Yeah, well, what would you know?”

“Eddie, stop it.”, Steve warned.

“It’s ok, Steve. I can handle this. I’m mentally ill not weak.”

“No one said you were weak, Y/N.”

“What makes you so confident I didn’t do it, hm? You weren’t there. Maybe I did.”

“Eddie…”

“No, Harrington. I’m curious. What makes her so confident? I have to know because besides my friends and my uncle you are the only person in this town who believes I didn’t do some satanic ritual to murder Chrissy, Fred, Patrick, and Jason. That I didn’t hurt Max to cause that fucking earthquake. Why?”

Steve angerly threw the water bottle he was drinking from hard against the inside of the van making you jump.

“Jesus Christ. Are you fucking kidding me, Ed?! We finally find one person who believes the truth and you have to fucking question it! Who gives a fuck why she believes you! Just embrace it.”

He crawls out of the vehicle and begins to pace as he lets off steam. Ren puts his head on your lap and you pet him as you watch Eddie climb out as well and hug the boy from behind, resting his cheek on his back. 

“I’m sorry if I startled you.”, Steve apologized without looking your way. 

“You didn’t. I…I feel safe with you, both of you. That’s why I believe you. I can’t explain it, Eddie. I wish I could. My therapist says that because of my trauma I had to learn how to read people so I could protect myself and prepare just in case. You two…I just don’t get this vibe that I need to be afraid of you.”

“Like a superpower?”, the metalhead grins softly as he comes to sit back beside you. 

“You could say that.”, you giggle and his heart melts. Abruptly, you lean over and wrap your arms around his shoulders, feeling his body stiffen only for a moment before fully accepting it. “You’re a good person Edward Munson.”

Steve watches you both as he stands in front of you, also taken aback when you turn your love towards him by hugging him to, circling your arms around his lower back.

“You to, Steve Harrington.”

****

The following week you were happy to see they attended group again and seemed so much lighter than they had the other times they had come. As the meeting started, once again you felt that shift in energy. 

“Y/N, I know you don’t talk much here and that’s absolutely fine. I was hoping maybe we could talk about what happened last week.”

“Oh, um, I don’t want to make Jeremy feel bad.”

“I’m ok. I want you to talk about it. It helps me understand…”

You gnaw on your bottom lip at his answer as Craig looks at you with earnest eyes. “I, um, he got aggressive and I panicked.”

“He did get verbally confrontational. Was it the yelling or what he was saying that triggered you?”

“The…yelling doesn’t…doesn’t really bother me or what is said. It…how it was being said.”

“Huh. Interesting. Please, go on.”

“My mom…was always kind of…forceful with her words…”

You don’t see it but both the boy’s protective modes had kicked in beside you especially Steve’s. It takes all his energy not to comfort you in some way. Yesterday, you had hugged him and Eddie but you three had been alone. Right now, you were in room full of people and he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. He settled for casually extending his legs a bit so his knee was just barely touching your own. 

“I don’t want to talk anymore if that’s ok.”

“That’s fine, Y/N. How about you Steve? I noticed you and Eddie got up pretty quickly to make sure she was okay. I’m sure she appreciates that. Are you usually the protector of your friend group?”

He smirks slightly. “They would probably say I’m more like the babysitter.”

“That’s funny.”, the coordinator laughs. “I have seen you around town with some of the younger kids like Dustin Henderson and Mike Wheeler. You and Mr. Munson there.”

“How’s Max Mayfield doing?” Both their heads shot up to look towards the member that asked the question. “Is she doing any better? I heard her mom is wreck.”

“Jackie, you know the rules. We don’t gossip in here.”, Craig scolds. 

“I’m not gossiping! Max was dating that Sinclair boy, right? Who hangs out with Michael and Dustin who apparently hang out with them so…I just want to know.”

Ren, who had been laying on the floor by your feet, suddenly sat up and waddled between Steve’s legs before lifting himself up so his head was on the man’s shoulder.

“Hug him.”, you whisper as you reach out to rub the boy’s back.

Slowly, he wraps his arms around him and pets the dog’s head. “Good boy.”

“Let’s, uh, Let’s move on to someone else.”

As the coordinator began talking to another person, Steve got up to leave as you and Eddie followed behind. Unlike you, instead of sitting in the hall, he continued to the parking lot towards his BMW. 

“Steve, wait. Wait a second!”, the metalhead called to him trying to keep up.

“I’m fine. Let’s just go home.”

“If you’re fine then why are we leaving?”

“Because I know they are going to ask about her again and I don’t want to hear it so…”, he aggressively gestures towards the car. 

“Isn’t that the point of this therapy group bullshit? To talk or whatever the fuck you said. This was your idea. You can’t just drag us here and then leave when it gets hard.”

“Ok, well, you know what? You were right, okay? We can’t talk about what happened so—”

“But they aren’t asking what happened. They are asking how she is. They already think they know what happened.”

“Fine! Fine, Eddie! Let’s go back in there and answer her question! ‘Oh yeah, Jackie, Max is fine. Just all of her limbs are broken and she’s in a fucking coma but hey the doctors say she’s not brain dead! Always a silver lining!’”

“Steve…what happened to her wasn’t your fault.”

“Fuck this. I’ll walk home.”

The metalhead ran in front of him, trying to block him with his body. “What happened to her, me, Dustin, and Lucas wasn’t your fault. You killed him. You, Nancy, and Robin saved us all but you’re not fucking superman, babe. You can’t be everywhere at once and can’t protect everyone.”

Steve’s head hung and they clung to each other as Eddie embraced him. When they disconnected, they were almost startled by your presence, forgetting you were there entirely. 

“Hey, um, before my brain glitches, I drew you something last night.” Eddie digs in his pocket and hands you a folded piece of paper. 

When you open it fully, you softly smile at the image of you in boots and a superhero style outfit with your palm in the air as a zig-zag force field surrounded you. Next to you was Ren with his tongue hanging out and mask over his eyes. At the top was bold 3D lettering that read “LADY EMPATHY” with smaller print underneath; “Senses Emotions and helps heal the innocent with her trustee four-legged side kick Anti-Depressant.”

You didn’t know whether to laugh or cry but you loved it. No one had ever done something nice like this for you except that one time someone slide a drawing into your locker.

Your eyes met his as a light bulb went off in your head. 

“Do you two want to come over to my house? We can hang out and eat some food. I would like to show you something.”

Eddie glanced at Steve who nodded his approval. 

“Ok. Sounds like fun.”

****

“Wow, this place is really nice.”, Steve muses as he looks around. 

“Thank you. I don’t have much but I don’t need too much so…”, you shrug as you watch them move around. 

“You seem to like a lot of movies, huh?” Eddie walks around looking at your posters hanging on the wall. 

“I do especially the fantasy ones. It’s nice to hide from reality in movies like The Never Ending Story or Dragon Slayer. I can’t wait for Labyrinth to come out. You know that new Bowie movie?”

The metalhead chuckles when Steve shrugs. “He doesn’t know who that is, sweetheart. Steve isn’t exactly well versed in most media.”

Your eyes widen as you head towards your sound system and push in a cassette. “Let’s Dance” flows through the speakers and he bobs his head he listens. “Pretty cool.”

Eddie laughs harder when you playfully sigh as his musical ignorance. “Yeah. Welcome to my world. What did you want to show us?”

After disappearing into your room, you come back with a frame in your arms, the image facing your body. 

“When I was in high school, I was pretty good at being invisible but sometimes I wasn’t so lucky. The jocks would pick on me a lot and pretty girls like Tammy Thompson would make my life hell.” Steve sighed praying that he wasn’t one of the people who hurt you. “That was nothing compared to what I was dealing with at home. My parents…they, um, they weren’t nice with each other and sometimes…my mother would take that out on me.”

“I always loved English class because I could write about what I was feeling. One day a teacher had asked me to read something I wrote in front of everyone. I told him no but he insisted and as I stood there, I could hear people snickering. It was awful; I hate talking in front of people. But anyway, a few days later, I found this in my locker.”

You turned the frame around to display the image Eddie had drawn for you as you slowly moved toward him. 

“You have no idea what this did for me. In a world full of people where I felt like no one cared, this showed me someone was listening. Someone out there did care…at least enough to take the time to draw this and give it to me.”

Eddie’s eyes met yours as he spoke. “I related to it, your story about the monsters and the kid hiding. My father used to scream at my mother until it escalated. I would always hide in my room hoping I wasn’t next.” Steve came over to stand next to him and rub his back comfortingly. “Turns out I can’t fight any monsters, can I, Stevie?”

The boy growled under his breath as his hand fell. 

“You were always amazing to me. You seemed so smart and strong; I was so afraid to talk to you. I couldn’t stop thinking about your story so I drew that and slid it into your locker.”

“So…my superpower works? I was right about you. You are a good person.” You smile when he smirks in your direction. “You guys can talk to me…about anything. I won’t judge you or hurt you or anything. I trust you and I hope that you can trust me.”

They glance at each other and you see the hesitation in their look. They a definitely holding something back but you pray that one day they’ll feel comfortable enough to let you in. Little did you know, the massive secrets they could tell.

[fallensnowfan]

Some thoughts about Luffy and Atlas as of chapter 1120.

Going back to the early parts of this arc reminded me that the food machine was her invention, and that she was angry there weren't enough resources to make more machines, to distribute more food all over the world.

Y'know... that ties in perfectly with Luffy's big promise last arc in a really neat way, make the world a place where his friends can eat as much food as they want, every single day. Which itself is building on one aspect of what Luffy's world was like as a child, when he was with Makino. She let him eat food everyday.

It really feels like no coincidence so much focus is given to Luffy as a leader through out Wano, and that he is involved in scenes where he inspires so many of its people. From Tama in Amigasa Village, to Tsuru, Kiku, and the citizens of Okobore Town, to Hyogoro and all of the prisoners in Udon, and all of the samurai on the battlefield during the raid.

Atlas having Uta's hair colors, just on opposite sides, was always interesting as well. Especially now that Luffy is getting to the point he will surpass Shanks soon. Shanks may not have been able to fully protect Uta, though Luffy and the crew may still have a chance to protect something/someone from Egghead, if they are going to prove their status as a newly minted Emperor's crew is truly deserved.

It's interesting then, that one of the mysteries of this arc is who it was who gave Luffy food from the machine, in chapter 1103. That may be more important than it seems. If we get an answer to that mystery, something really cool may happen following it. And I hope we do.

Want to give a quick mention to how great this page at showing the many key point of the story on the island is too.

We see the Sunny half way to reaching the water/Giant's ship after so much effort. With the cloud island still visible and framed in a way to the Sunny is inbetween the cloud island and the giant's ship. Stussy and CP are still up there.

Some of the Straw Hats's reactions to Atlas.

York thinking her plan succeeded(same week as we see the start of it in the anime, nice timing.)

The two Elders who have caused the most conflict for our brave pirates. Nusjuro and Saturn.

Robonosuke preparing something, as the remaining two Elders prepare to destroy him and stop the broadcast for good.

The broadcast itself, as well as people reaction to it.

It's really really effective at conveying everything we should have in focus right now, at this point in the conflict.

[xf-cases-solved]

S2E3: Blood

Case: In, ah—one sec... Franklin, Pennsylvania! It's in Pennsylvania, definitely remembered that on my own accord. Anyway, in Franklin, Pennsylvania, a bunch of people are losing their marbles and murdering people in seemingly random attacks. What ties these crimes together is that right before they went murder hobo, they were in a situation that exacerbated their biggest fears, and also they hallucinated technology telling them to kill, which is very entertaining bc it's the fucking 90s, so the technology is very silly on its own, but is even sillier when it says "KILL 'EM ALL" in big red letters, but I digress. Mulder—with continued secret help from Scully on the side, as well as the Lone Gunmen (!!)—begins to suspect that these killings might actually be related to a pesticide the government is testing on people, but you know how the government gets when you try to claim they're involved in some big conspiracy, la dee da, so it goes.

A man gets laid off work, but that's the least of his problems as technology keeps telling him to kill people; a microwave tells a lady to stab Mulder to death; Mulder gives Frohike Scully's phone number; my notes say there is a handsome cop with nice hair, but I don't know who I was referring to or why I wrote that down; and Mulder's work on the case is ALL DONE. BYE-BYE!

Does someone die in the cold open: He got laid off so he's probably dead inside, but physically everyone is alive. (This does not last long.)

Does Mulder present a slideshow: Still no one to watch. Maybe he makes them for himself and plays them alone in his office and cries.

Does the evidence survive the investigation: Mmmmmmm, not sure. My guess is that the government is planning to get rid of any evidence that they were allowing chemicals to be tested on its citizens, but I'm not sure if Mulder held onto anything or not. I mean, he usually doesn't, so probably not, but -shrug emoji-.

Whodunit: Subliminal messaging caused by a pesticide that the Pennsylvanian government okayed to be tested on the town's residents. I think.

Convictions: None, but the government has to stop spraying people with LSD.

Did they solve it: I'll give it to 'em, why not? Mulder knows what caused it; more or less got a confession, or at least got them to stop doing the thing; and I feel like his report would be one of the less annoying ones he's submitted in his time in the FBI. Good job, Mulder! (And Scully, but unofficially.)

[how do i determine if a case is solved? check the scale here: x]

THIS EPISODE IS SPONSORED BY: Not being a test subject for government issued pesticides. I mean, like... you can try, but in the end, is it really up to you? What is the government testing on you right now? What have you been exposed to against your will? Is it LSD? It might be LSD, but who's to say for certain?  Not being a test subject for government issued pesticides — honestly, you're fucked, so maybe you should just... kill 'em all*... *This company does not endorse homicide, even if those homicidal impulses are the government's fault. Please don't sue us.

***

General Total Stats:

(green means stat has changed since last ep; red means new stat added to list)

Total Cases *Definitively* Solved So Far: 14 (two in a row!)

Total Number of "Mulder/Scully, It's Me": 6 

Total Number of Times Scully Has Conveniently Not Seen Something Crucial: 6

Total Number of Times Mulder Has Been in Mortal Danger: 8 ½ (i mean, technically that lady came at him with that knife so i'll give him a half point, but i doubt she would have ever been able to actually mortally wound him) 

Total Number of Times Scully Has Been in Mortal Danger: 8

Total Number of Sexually Charged, Uncomfortably Intimate, and/or Flirty Moments Between Friendly Coworkers: 13

Total Number of Autopsies Scully Has Performed On Screen: 5 (and there were no worms in the body!)

Total Number of Times Scully Plays Doctor: 2

Total Number of Times Mulder Talks to an Informant: 16 (x come back, bb, i miss u)

Total Number of Times People Making Out in a Car Are Hurt or Killed: 2

Total Number of Times Someone Correctly Guesses a Password: 3 

Total Number of (Plot Relevant) Nosebleeds: 5 (changed stat to specify plot relevancy, so i can get away with not counting it if someone gets beat up and their nose happens to bleed or something. the nosebleed in this one did make that man homicidal, tho, so i will up the stat lol)

Total Number of Times Mulder Has Tasted/Sniffed/Touched Something Questionable Without Following Proper Safety Procedures: 3

Total Number of Times Someone Says "Trust No One": 3 

Total Number of Times Someone Says "I Want to Believe": 3

Total Number of Times Someone Says "The Truth is Out There": 2

Total Number of Cigarettes Cigarette Smoking Man Has Smoked: 8

Total Number of Maggie Scully Sightings: 1

Total Number of Lone Gunmen Sightings: 2!

Total Number of Alex Krycek Sightings: 0 (BUT GUESS WHAT NEXT EPISODE IS???!!! 😀😀😀)

Total Number of Times I Had to Look Up What State the Episode Takes Place in Even Though I Literally Just Watched It: 10½ (shut up) 

Total Number of Times I Had to Look at an Episode's Wikipedia Page to Fill This Out Because It Was Fucking Confusing and/or Too Boring for Me to Pay Attention: 5

[abbacchiosbelt]

Kinkmas ‘22 — Day 1: Heizou + Sex Pollen

you join heizou in an investigation regarding a mysterious phenomenon occurring in the narukami island’s wilderness. you get more than you expect when mere moments after reaching your destination, the mysterious phenomena starts affecting you & heizou.

CW: AFAB reader. Dub-con because of sex pollen. Explicit/not sfw.

WC: 2.2k.

Kinkmas Index

It wasn’t often that Heizou investigated something that didn’t involve people. People were simple for him - they were predictable, and even if they weren’t, he enjoyed figuring them out to crack open whatever case he happened to be working on. 

The current case he’d been called to investigate, though, wasn’t exactly about investigating people. Well, it had been a part of it, but the people interviewed hadn’t been able to remember anything about the experience except for the general area they’d been in where their memory started to fail and their rather scandalous state upon awakening. 

Heizou had dubbed it a ‘mysterious phenomenon’ in his notes.

More precautions should have been taken before Heizou had set out to investigate, but the recent lifting of the Sakoku Decree had the citizens of Inazuma on the edge and the Tenryou Commission was eager to extinguish the issue before too many rumors could spread. Heizou had readily agreed, the young detective always eager to solve cases that were out of the norm for him.

You had been roped into joining Heizou on his investigation by the Tenryou Commission in an attempt to show its goodwill towards other nations. You were a student from the Akademiya, here on Narukumi Island as part of research for your studies in the field of Amurta. Because you had been registered as currently residing in Inazuma, it had been easy enough for the commission to look you up and contact you - they had considered it the perfect opportunity, and you were remiss to refuse when they offered you a generous stipend to help your research. 

You had mainly agreed because what information you had gleaned from the notes sounded like something you’d read about in one of your many textbooks; plants that caused potential memory loss (mostly recorded in those without Visions), increased heart rate, and a number of other things… including incredibly heightened arousal. It seemed to match up with the reports of the affected persons, so it was a good opportunity for you to flex your knowledge.

You and Heizou would meet up, discuss your shared knowledge, and enter the area from a safe distance to put together a clear picture of what was going on. Then, after a short study, you could inform the Tenryou Commission of how to properly exterminate what you assumed to be an invasive species without harming the other nature around it. You would both write reports, take a nice picture, and that would be that. 

If only it had been as simple as either of you thought it would be.

-

Sweat beads at your temples as you kneel on the forest floor, chest heaving. Your heart pounds rapidly from within your chest as you try to gather your bearings to no avail. You look helplessly at Heizou, the detective faring no better than you. His carefully applied eye makeup was smudged and running down his flushed face, his eyes brimming with tears. It’s impossible, too, to ignore the tent in his pants and the damp spot that had already formed there.

[ Somewhere along the way, the information that it had rained in the area before had failed to reach either of you. Had you known, you would have set the investigation off for a couple of days. Rain affected these types of plants in different ways, and in this case, it had spread the plant spores in a wider area. That meant that your so-called ‘safe distance’ away was not safe. It meant that you and Heizou had been exposed to the offending plant the second you got close enough to the general area it had taken root in.

Well. At least you had been right about your theory that the plant was a particularly strong aphrodisiac. ]

“I can’t,” Heizou whines, drawing your attention to him. He’s flat on his back, hands clenching the grass as he writhes on the ground. The position makes the bulge in his pants even more prominent, and in your current state, it makes you start to drool. “Turn away, p-please,” he says, straining to keep his hands away from himself. “I have to… have to take care of it, I’m sorry…” His voice wavers and the mere implication that he’s going to touch himself has your pussy slick with desire.

You know exactly how he feels, of course - as if fire is engulfing every inch of his body. His mind, too, would be addled with lust and unable to think of anything but seeking relief. Worst of all was the agony of the arousal, almost like your body knew you had relief in reach but were refusing it. You knew, too, that it would take more than touching himself to even begin dousing the flames. Plants like this were incredibly powerful, and their effect on both the mind and body made them even more dangerous.

You know what has to be done, even through the haze of the aphrodisiac. 

“Heizou,” you slur. You begin to crawl towards him and he practically wails out your name, his lust-addled gaze falling on you. He drags himself up from the ground onto his knees. “The fastest way… Most effective…” You struggle to get out full sentences, the haze of arousal scrambling your brain. “Together, we have to do it… together.” Your plea clearly affects him, the detective biting his lip so hard it bleeds.

“Please,” he starts. He swipes his tongue across his lips to lick up the blood he’d drawn, and you have to stop yourself from closing the distance to press your mouth to his. “I won’t be able to stop myself, I don’t want t-to hurt you.” Heizou tries to turn away, but he can’t tear his gaze from you. “You’re… You should get help.” Every word he gets out is a struggle. His eyes suddenly widen. “Not that I don’t w-want to- with you.”

Heizou’s admission doesn’t help either of your conditions. If he had insisted, you would have dragged yourself off somewhere to clear your head as much as possible before going for help… But he had unconsciously crawled closer to you instead, and every moment that passed continued to make the arousal burn brighter in both of you.

It’d be impossible, now, to turn away from him.

Once you’re close enough to touch him, there’s no more holding back. Heizou surges forward to press his lips against yours, his hands immediately darting out to paw at your clothing. He’s burning hot to the touch, and the heady masculine smell radiating from him makes your pussy clench hard, desperate to be filled. The kiss is sloppy, his tongue sliding against yours with no real goal, the detective nipping at your lips between swipes of his tongue. Any experience the two of you had is thrown out the door in favor of raw pleasure, your bodies chasing the most immediate gratification they can get.

The kissing isn’t enough, not when both your bodies are strung so tight that you feel as if you might truly die if you don’t get to touch each other. You break apart from the kiss and Heizou whines.

“More,” you say. “I need… More. We need…”  

Heizou nods in assent and presses forward against you until you’re flat on your back, the effects of the aphrodisiac making the forest floor feel as soft as a blanket. It both heightened and distorted your senses, any discomfort apart from the burning lust erased so that you could solely focus on chasing pleasure. 

With little restraint he presses your shirt up and nearly rips your underclothes off to expose your bare breasts, his head immediately darting down so he can take one of your nipples into his mouth. He sucks hard and you cry out, the sensation amplified beyond what you’d ever felt. Heizou plays with your other nipple, clumsily playing with the bud between his fingers. He lifts his mouth from your nipple with a loud pop before moving to the other one, taking it into his mouth and lathing his tongue over it. 

It feels beyond incredible, but it’s not what either of you really needs - and it’s obvious Heizou knows it from the way he’s rutting against you, needy little whines dropping from his mouth while he works your breasts. 

“Heizou,” you moan, drawing out his name. He glances up at you, mouth still covering your nipple, bright green eyes nearly engulfed by his dilated pupil. “I need you, need you to fuck me.” 

That’s all it takes - he’s off your nipple and tearing off your pants before you can even think to help him. He doesn’t bother taking off his clothes, hurriedly dragging his cock out, his gaze not leaving yours the whole time. “I’ve been waiting,”  he starts, giving his cock a few sloppy pumps with his hand. You eye his cock with hunger, the head flushed an angry red and slit dripping with precome. “Waiting for you to tell me I could fuck you,” He kneels in front of you and practically bends you in half, pushing your back as far as he can go so that your pussy is fully exposed to him - his strength makes you whine, desperate to have him in the most carnal way. “Need you now, can’t hold back,” he breathes out. Heizou lines himself up with your entrance, and unable to hold himself back any longer buries himself to the hilt in one swift thrust.

“Oh, archons,” you wail, your hands shooting out to his shoulders to grab on. Heizou growls, huffing out your name. Any pain that would come from the sudden intrusion is negated by how wet your pussy is and the aphrodisiac. It’s euphoric, how good it feels to finally have something inside of you. 

“Do whatever y’need to me,” Heizou slurs, using every bit of his willpower to hold on for one more second. “Scratch me, bite me… Feels so good. You feel s’good,” The second your pussy clenches down around him in response, Heizou begins to thrust into you in earnest. 

Every nerve in your body is singing with pleasure at finally getting relief, the feeling of Heizou fucking you rivaling anything you’ve ever felt before. Deep in the back of your mind you know it’s just the aphrodisiac talking, but you can’t help how your body is naturally responding to him. You cling to his shoulders as he fucks you, your body unable to do anything else. The position allows him to fuck you hard and deep, and every pass of his cock feels better. The head of it presses against the spongy part inside of you and makes you cry out with every thrust - surely, anyone could hear you from miles away.

Heizou is no quieter - he’s shamelessly moaning, slurring out your name between thrusts and rambling about how good you feel - how beautiful you look, how good you smell… He can’t get enough of you, and neither can his body.

It feels like it’s been hours when it’s only been minutes, the bliss from the aphrodisiac muddling your perception of time. You don’t want it to ever stop. You could lay here forever with Heizou, letting the detective fuck you for an eternity. The aphrodisiac is only intensifying, the effects ramping up before they eventually begin to simmer down.

Heizou stutters and you claw into his back, a whine falling from your throat. “Don’t stop,” you say. He leans down, his lips a breadth away from yours, and you whimper out his name.

“M’not,” he replies. He begins to fuck you again, panting against your lips. “Just didn’t want to come, not before you.”

You’re amazed that he has the clarity at all to be so conscious of you coming, but your brain gives you little time to dwell on it. Heizou leans back and presses a hand between your bodies - and just the touch of his palm against your clit has you orgasming, the swollen bud hypersensitive from the plant’s effects. You grip his shoulders so tight that you’re sure you’ve drawn blood, his bare shoulders not protected by cloth. 

Your reaction sets off Heizou, the detective biting his lip as he comes inside of you, cock throbbing with every pump of come that shoots out. His cock doesn’t soften in the slightest, nor does your clit feel overstimulated. The effects of the plant would run their course, and there was nothing either of you could do to stop it.

Heizou looks down to meet your eyes, his face bright red. His eye makeup, what remained of it, was incredibly smudged. His lips were bitten pink - he was the picture of beauty and unrestrained lust, and you couldn’t get enough of it. 

Heizou thought the same looking down at you, unable to tear his eyes away. He begins to shallowly thrust his cock in and out of you, his body screaming at him for moremoremore- Your body returns the sentiment, pussy clenching down around him. If he wasn’t aware earlier, he was now - the aphrodisiac was going to take a long time to wear off, and if you didn’t appease its effects, it would be bad for everyone involved.

At least, he thinks, it was with you - the one he’d specifically requested out of both intellectual curiosity and personal interest. Not that he ever expected this to happen.

It was going to be an interesting set of reports.

[yumeka-sxf]

A chronological analysis on Twilight and Yor - Part 2

*This is part of an ongoing post series. If you missed the Introduction/Part 1, click here*

----------

The Forgers' first family outing is when we start to get an idea of how well they complement each other. When he realizes that Anya and Yor aren't exactly Eden tier citizens, Twilight is understandably upset. He even goes so far as to think he may have chosen the wrong child and wife for the job (also the last time he ever thinks this).

As for Yor, we see that she has a noticeable liking for weapons, which makes sense considering her job as an assassin. She stares almost longingly at a painting of a guillotine at the museum, and fondles her knife at the restaurant, much to Twilight's confusion.

But what's interesting is that this is the only time we ever see her exhibit this behavior, and I think it's because she's since found more important things to feel deeply about, like motherly love for Anya and tenderness for Loid (she's always had Yuri, but she's not together interacting with and observing him as often as she will be with Anya and Loid). Whether this was an intentional tidbit of character development from Endo, I can't say, but from a narrative perspective, it definitely fits.

This episode also shows the first of many eventual times where Yor has just the right words of comfort for an exasperated Twilight. Despite the fact that, at this point, she hadn't fully embraced her mother/wife role yet, she takes notice of how worked up he had gotten at the restaurant and suggests that they go outside for some air.

When they see the old lady being robbed, Twilight shows no intention of getting involved – spies aren't supposed to attract attention to themselves with showy heroic acts after all. But once Yor rushes over to help, he decides to follow her lead because, again, he's a decent guy who wants to help people even though he prefers doing it secretively. There was no benefit to Yor for helping the old lady except for the fact that, like Twilight, she's a good person who wants to help others, but isn't inhibited by having to keep up a spy persona like he is. But as for why Yor is so quick to react when others need help, but is at a loss when she herself is a target, like when her coworkers were insufferably rude to her at the party, is a part of her personality that I'll discuss more later down the line.

This is also the first of a few scenes where Anya insists that Loid and Yor are flirting/going to kiss, and they immediately deny it, in an almost uncharacteristically abrupt way.

While it's a very short scene, it's especially strange for the calm and collected Twilight to get worked up about some silly thing Anya says. I don't think Twilight and Yor are romantically in love this early in the series, but the fact that they reacted like this does hint at the possibility that they know the other is not a typical man/woman (in a good way) and they're not sure how they feel about it. Hence the exaggerated reactions when confronted with those ambiguous feelings.

Later that day, as an exhausted Twilight tries once more to go over the interview questions, we get a scene from his POV of Anya and Yor happily sitting on the couch with their teacups. This causes Twilight to think back to the old lady's words about what a nice family they are, to which he tells himself that means they must have made some progress. There are several scenes like this throughout the series that show something from his perspective that is, what I like to call, "softly emphasized." The scene itself doesn't seem like anything major, and Twilight isn't making a big deal about it, yet the scene covers a decently sized panel in the manga and has a sort of "fuzziness" to its shading, conveying a warm, gentle feeling (the anime usually lingers on the scene for a few moments and/or may add fuzzy, warm filtering to the colors and sound).

While other characters do occasionally get scenes like this too, I think the reason Twilight has more of them is because of the kind of character he is, namely, an unreliable narrator. For most characters, even if they lie out loud, we as the audience get insight into their thoughts, and typically that's where we know what they're really feeling. But because Twilight is such a competent liar, and has spent much of his life donning one false identity after another, he insists on deceiving not only others, but himself as well. As a result, even his thoughts are not a reliable source for his true feelings. So to me, Endo includes scenes like this – something that seems mundane, but for Twilight, it's triggering feelings of warmth and comfort, despite whatever his expression, words, or thoughts might tell us – as a subtle yet more sure way of knowing what he's really feeling. In this case, despite his sour expression, he's slowly starting to feel comfortable with Anya and Yor, especially when he recalls that someone saw them as a lovely family.

Continue to Part 3 ->

<- Return to Part 1

[starrspice]

👀👀👀 nice ocs! mind sharing the lore with the class?

Hi yes hello Anon I would be delighted to share the lore with you all excuse me while i foam at the mouth

Please enjoy my brainworms about my precious precious babies (lore below the cut)

SO they are a group of mercinaries called The "Universal Freelance Operation Specialists" aka the U.F.O.S. and despite being mercinaries they honestly do just about any job you're willing to pay for big or small

They all just live and travel in their Ship hopping from galaxy to galaxy looking for jobs to snag and making friends and enemies along the way

You have Mars, the "captain" of the ship and the boss of the whole organization Who is an exhiled warrior from one of the most reserved and unstudied planets in the universe. Not much is known about her home life or her history since she's very tight lipped about it, but one thing is for certain. If you're the bottom of the barrel and feel like nobody in the galaxy would ever want or need you for anything, chances are you'll find a place with Mars in the U.F.O.S. even if you don't stick around. Mars is an excellent leader and knows how to orchestrate plans including every member and their own unique set of skills. She knows her group is rag tag and often considered the bottom of the barrel but holds them all dear regardless of what others might say. She's often very stern and stoic, usually acting aloof to trick people into thinking she's oblivious. She's firm but fair and loyalty is extremely important to her. She's got a kind heart and a soft side she's often afraid to show as its been used against her in the past.

Next up is Ango, a reject from a planet of one of the most intelligent species known throughout several galaxies. He's not quite as highly intelligent as some of the top scholars on his planet but he's the planet's equivalent of a mad scientist. Now he uses his high intelligence and skills with tech to tinker and invent a broad range of odd but useful devices that could change things for better (but more often for worse). He's considered extremely dangerous and somewhat mad by his own species. He's Mars's second in command and the resident Repair man (cuz stars knows stuff gets broken non stop, especially Zai and Gidget. Mars and Zai traveled together for years before eventually finding and recruiting Gidget, and later on Zai. Just like Mars he's pretty reserved with his past and gets squeamish talking about it. He tends to be a bit hot headed and exentric at times often blowing his top and making a mess of things that could've easily been handled diplomatically.

Gidget (Formally known as Aza) is a scrapped Childcare Android who used to belong to a very Wealthy politician and was in charge of caring for, raising, and befriending the politician's daughter. Gidget deeply cared for the girl and was absolutely devastated when she was thrown away after a new intergalactic law made Androids official citizens with basic rights (requiring any owners of androids to pay extra and provide for the androids they owned). Found by Zai and Mars in a sorry broken state and living on stolen charges, the pair took her in and repaired her, eventually completely rebuilding her with a new and more durable body. She became the glue of the team and helped mediate and problem solve whenever Ango and Mars reached an impass but she is the teams self proclaimed "demolition" specialist and tends to enjoy any job involving explosives, but also often plays nurse and patches up her organic teammate's injuries after a rough job

Zai is by far the newest member of the team (as well as the youngest) but is still a very capable and resrouceful member they can't do without. Often called "the muscle" of the team Zai is the combat specialist, easily able to handle large swarms of enemies on his own whether it be armed or bare handed. Humans are an extremely rare sight across the universe as earth is seen as a semi-primitive planet not yet considered suitable for intergalactic travel and Extra terrestrial interaction, so humans are usually abducted from their planet and sold as illegal and exotic "pets" to rich and powerful people. Zai however, was unfortunate enough to be abducted and tossed into what is essentially an intergalactic dog fighting ring. He spent his teenage years and early 20s fighting for his life in the arena, and was frequently augmented and experimented on in attempts to make him stronger. Eventually the other members of the fight ring came to stop calling him by his real name (Austin Beckett) and began to call him "Zai" which means "Champion". He kept the name ever since. Eventually the fighting ring was busted by the authorities, and Zai desperately made his escape during the raid (knowing if he was taken in by the police he'd be treated like a glorified animal since humans were considered largely unintelligent). By the time he was freed from the ring he had so many of his human body replaced with machines and augments, most notibly his prosthetic mechanical arm, leg, and eyes as well as his cerebral implant (which he later removes himself). With no way to go back to earth and nowhere to go after he was freed the U.F.O.S. took him in and adopted him as part of their little team (which he considers as his family) and although he is often very friendly and optimistic he has extremely violent tendencies especially when it comes to protecting his family. Despite their constant bickering Zai and Ango are probably the closest out of the bunch and spend the most time together

While they usually just run around doing oddjobs, their lives were forever changed. They were hired for an amount of credits one could only dream of to retrieve a "top secret super weapon" but would ultimately end up being the most wanted criminals in the universe after stealing it from the intergalactic federation. Their lives are turned upside down as they're forced to go on the run (and keep this "weapon" from everyone, including their original employer)

[farfromstrange]

Total Eclipse Of The Heart | Matt Murdock

Matt Murdock x Vampire!reader (f!reader)

Part 1 // Part 2 (currently here) // Part 3 (coming soon)

PART TWO - Humans are dying at the hands of her species and she has to do something about it, but how can she when the object of her attraction just so happens to stumble into her path over and over again, as if he's just as addicted to her as she is to him?

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI! Very explicit sexual language, dubious consent (inappropriate touching, dirty talk), blood, vampires, death, bad humor, plot, religious imagery (?), submissive Matt Murdock, Dom!Reader, DARK FANTASY (dead dove do not eat), really, this is absolutely filthy dark, AND not proof-read

A/n: This is so dark, holy shit… Here’s the second part! I hope you’re not mad at me that I left you waiting. 2023 already feels so weird I don’t know why, but I’ve finally finished this chapter and I’m getting to work on the third one as we speak. The smut is coming soon, I promise. Until then, I’m just going to get you all worked up :)

DARK CONTENT UNDER HERE, 18+ ONLY!

Ever since the beginning of time, humans have felt threatened by their fellow species. The goal is self-preservation rather than preserving the world around them. At the same time though, there has never been another species so hell-bent on destroying their habitat than the human race. 

She watched the seasons come and go. Where one life ended, another started. Humans were fast to reproduce, she realized, but they were also just as fast to die. Sickness and injury are the biggest threats to the human body.  You could be okay one second, then on your deathbed the next. While the female body could withstand the terrible strain of childbirth, it stands no chance against cancer. You could bleed out in seconds if the right vein is nicked, and if you fall the wrong way, a broken neck will either kill you instantly or leave you dependent on machines for the rest of your life. 

While humans are considered the most sophisticated species since the beginning of time, they are all collectively fragile. 

The last time she was actively human, she didn’t even have a quarter of the knowledge at hand that she gained later in life. Times have changed since then. The world grew into something new, something modern, and the human race evolved with it. 

They’ve never had many nice words to say about her kind, so it came naturally to be terrified of a species that was more than willing to eradicate her own.

Sure, killing and blood-sucking isn’t something that goes over well with a crowd, but she often emphasized that they weren’t all cold-blooded murderers. Not all vampires were the same, and the lore often got it wrong.

Cold, they were, but only temperature-wise. Her half of the litter, anyway. And they were murderers too, else they wouldn’t have survived this long. Drinking blood to survive was a curse she wished upon no one. It naturally made her species reborn killers; they had to take a life to sustain their own, and since death and starvation weren’t in the cards without a stake through the heart, they had to follow their most primal instincts.

She tried to refrain from murder like a good citizen, and it worked, most of the time. There are other ways to get blood that doesn’t involve murdering an innocent. In Hell’s Kitchen, she could easily roll open a map and point to a random place, and she surely would have found criminals deserving of punishment.

But there were also humans who didn’t fear her species, those who were willing to give to the cause voluntarily. They liked to call themselves blood-submissive as if it were a sexual practice on its own – the sex was a nice byproduct, and some of those people were born to be whores, but making it a new trend was something she wished would never happen.

Though she was well aware of the subculture around humans fetishizing vampires, who were all more than ready to give their blood. Humans are so susceptible to overstimulation, especially through strange forces, even the smallest taste of a vampire’s blood could get them high enough up the precipice to push them into an orgasm.

That was the one thing that enticed her the most; the human anatomy, and how responsive they were to stimuli. She knew all about it, and yet she found herself surprised again and again whenever she lay with someone new. 

That evening though, she woke up with a heavy feeling in her stomach. One that wouldn’t go away. 

She entered the kitchen of her shared home to find a stranger sitting on one of the stools at the kitchen counter. Two very obvious holes adorned the young man’s neck. He didn’t look terrified when he saw her, only overly tired and perhaps a little drained. 

She sighed heavily, moving to get herself a drink from the fridge. Not that she had one already sitting there, but he wasn’t hers to take. He had already been labeled with two very sharp fangs that could only belong to one person.

“Eli, you left your dinner in the kitchen!” her voice bounced off the high walls, doing black flips until it finally made the human twitch. “No offense,” she said. “I’m just not a fan of waking up to blood banks sitting at my kitchen counter.”

He opened his mouth, but no words would come out.

She grinned. With her mug in hand, she returned to ask the boy, “Coffee?”

He declined.

“Well, you can’t say I haven’t tried to be hospitable with you.”

Just in time, Eli came around the corner wearing nothing but a pair of boxer briefs. She rolled her eyes. It was one of those guests. 

She met Eli somewhere around 1800 when she spent some time in the deserts of Egypt. He was only a couple of days old then, bitten by a passing vampire with no regard for human life. Eli was lucky to have survived, but with no one to teach him, he went rogue and slaughtered his entire village in a hungry haze. When he came to, the life he once knew had been destroyed beyond repair.

She saved him. Initially, she planned to just pass through, but the word about a vampire on the loose traveled fast, even back then, and so she found herself in Eli’s village soon after, convincing him to join her. She saved his life and therefore, he felt as if he owed her. They never left each other's side again.

Though sometimes, Eli was particularly hard to live with. He was almost like an unruly child, and he left his food lying out most of the time – he tended to forget that wasn’t the only hungry one in the household. 

“Would you stop calling every human I bring home a blood bank?” he said. 

“If you stop letting them stay for breakfast,” she retorted.  

He met her bitter smile with a sour one of his own. “Not everyone feels the need to submit to you as Talon does.”

“Maybe I should make that a rule then. I mean, I am the head of this coven, after all. The least you can do is give me some respect.” She eyed the young man still sitting at the counter, completely hypnotized by the shirtless man prancing around the kitchen. “And your blood whores, too, before you start giving them a sexually transmitted human disease. Or turn them into one of us.”

He scoffed. She patted his shoulder as she passed by him, taking the chance to whisper into his ear, “Would be a shame if I had to drive a stake through one of them when all they signed up for was just a little fun.”

She couldn’t help herself. On her way out, she passed by the helpless human, pulling his head back by the hair to reveal his deliciously long neck, and she dipped her nose to take him in. The blood running through his veins smelled beyond divine. Sweet temptation. She wanted to bury her teeth in his soft skin and suck until he was empty. “Ah, delicious,” she said. “Youngblood, untainted, pure. Excellent pick. I wonder if he tastes as good as he smells.” 

The tips of her sharp fangs scratched at his neck, and she had to force herself to pull away before she could make the mistake of taking Eli’s food off his plate. 

“Get him out of here,” she told him. “Before I make you bathe in holy water for the rest of the week.” 

He rolled his eyes. “Yes, ma’am.”

The respect issue was a problem she had to deal with. She wasn’t someone to play around, with except for the bedroom. She was nothing if not playful there, with someone writhing underneath her and begging for the mercy of pleasure, and they would always get what they wanted and deserved. She was considerate like that. But her lovers also never struggled to pay her respect. That seemed to be a family problem only. 

Perhaps she had to assert more dominance over them too, even if it was just for kicks. They would learn soon enough. It wasn’t exactly easy to be a leader, after all. That was common knowledge even amongst the undead.

The vibrations of the phone in her pocket caused her to look up. She checked the text – a piece of technology she was quite fond of, the cell phone – and if she hadn’t been pale enough already, she surely would have turned white as a sheet right about now. 

“What happened?” she asked as she entered the main room. 

Talon nodded his head. “I just got word from my source at the police station,” he told her.

“And?”

“There’s been several suspicious murders in Hell’s Kitchen in the past week.”

“If I wanted a broken record player, I would have gone into the attic. Spit your words out now, Talon, or I will cut out your tongue.”

He flinched, remaining in his position with his head bowed downward. He couldn’t look into her almost blacked-out eyes and be met with disappointment. 

“The victims have been drained of most of their blood, but the injection sites are sloppy, so a lot of the blood got wasted and spilled around the corpses,” he said.

“That’s… graphic.” She rolled her eyes. Chaos only compelled distraction. “But not at all the details I need,” she said.

“Yes, I was just getting to the important part. There’s security footage that shows a foreign party escaping from the site of the murder, and the same person is shown a couple of days later attacking the third victim in a blood-thirsty rage.”

The scenery sounded all too familiar. She tilted her head, intrigued by his report, and moved forward. “What exactly are they saying?”

“The police are blaming it on a new drug epidemic that has the users acting out to the point they would cause a blood bath. The drug supposedly triggers hallucinations that make them unaware of their surroundings and crave violence.”

“You mean blood. The drug is making them crave blood.”

“That’s what they’re thinking, but it’s not in the official report.”

“Yeah because that drug is called vampirism and that’s not exactly an epidemic that should be happening,” she said.

Talon nodded. “Police are issuing a warning,” he told her, “without knowing what they’re warning from. It’s just a couple of kids overdosing and bleeding out in the most ghastly of ways. They’re saying it’s drugs because they don’t understand.”

She grew more and more agitated with every word that slipped past his lips. The pedestal that kept her above the man made her seem much taller than she actually was. She paced the floor. It gave her a sense of superiority that she fought very hard to receive. Her status surpassed those of the people around her. She was older and wiser and perhaps slightly more sophisticated. Her moves were calculated yet often brutal because she learned that you get nothing in life if you’re not willing to spill a little blood, literally and figuratively. To have something or someone threaten her precious freedom like that was an obvious call for action

She halted her movements when he went quiet. “Do they have proof?” she questioned as if she expected him to tell her himself. 

“No,” Talon said. 

“Good. Call a meeting. I need to know who did this. And make sure no one knows beforehand. The last thing I need right now is a fucking vampire uproar.”

“What, you suspect it was one of us?” He had a doubting frown resting on his pale face. 

“While I have faith that you can keep your fangs in your jaw, I need to make sure I’m not misplacing that faith,” she stated. “If I’m wrong in my suspicions, that is good for you. If I’m right and one of you idiots is behind this, I will drive you to hell myself.”

“If you want to have my opinion…”

She smirked, “I really don’t.”

“But if I may?”

“You may not.” Stepping down from the pedestal, she eyed him. “Call the meeting,” she ordered. “In the meantime, I’m going to get myself a bottle of Scotch to drown my sorrows, and then I’m going to steal from the police.” 

Talon yelled after her, “Do you need any help, boss?”

“Yes. You can help yourself to stop crawling up my ass! That would help me a lot, actually. Don’t get me wrong,” she said, “I like my men submissive, but your behavior is just getting pathetic now. I’m your boss, not your mother. She’s dead. Deal with it.”

It wasn’t the first time she broke into the police station in Hell’s Kitchen. Crime rates exploded at night, which meant a higher police presence in the building, but at the same time, the cells overflowed with the many criminals they caught. They were always drowning in paperwork, and the crime never seemed to take an end. 

She waited until the commotion in the bullpen caused the officer at the front desk to jump from his seat and escalate the situation. She sped toward the file cabinet, retrieved what she needed, and disappeared just as fast as she had come. 

The officer looked up to find nothing but a strong breeze knocking the documents off his desk. He frowned, choosing to ignore it as the man underneath him writhed against the handcuffs.

Talon said a lot yet nothing at all. She eyed the pictures in the moonlight, the dead eyes staring straight into the security cameras, the man’s body covered in blood as he left a trail of bodies along the Hudson’s riverbed. He downplayed it. This was bad, a monster out of control, someone who shouldn’t even have existed in the first place and yet somehow came to life. There were clear rules. Those rules had been broken in more than one place, shattered on the ground, and then walked over with utmost disrespect. 

And he wasn’t the only one. Every murder was accompanied by one of the herds escaping, later appearing on the scene of another crime. To the untrained eye, it appeared as if these kids were high and just playing around. The blood around the bodies was significant, so the ordinary human might sort it as an overdose after all. An accident. Though none of the things she saw were accidental. 

They killed without a care, without remorse, and at the rate they were going, she was sure they wouldn’t stop anytime soon. 

It wasn’t the first time she had to run against the clock, but it had been a while since she was tossed into such a situation where she had to choose between peace and her most primal nature. She had to appeal to her common sense. She knew better than to let them continue this.

Humans aren’t stupid but often underestimated. At this rate, if they kept going, war seemed inevitable. 

These strangers were hunting on her turf and they turned everything upside down. She wasn’t having it. She had to do something. 

The wind came from the far east and blew through the streets. Many different smells lay in the air that night, but the most prominent hit her nose at the front step of the precinct. 

She tilted her head. She could sense him clearly now. He still smelled the same, his blood a bittersweet taste on her tongue, and she craved more. His heartbeat filled her ears, an elevated sound. She searched for him in the night until the sound of his scruffy, careful voice caught in her ears. 

He stood on the fire escape of the precinct’s second floor. The metal creaked. A door fell shut. He wasn’t alone. 

“Look, man, I’d be happy to help you, especially because we are way in over our heads with this case, but I told you,” the second voice said, “The file is gone.” 

She stared down at the brown folder in her hands. 

“What do you mean gone?” he asked, finally, and her eyes rolled back at the mere sound of him. 

He was everywhere, so goddamn overwhelming, all she wanted was to pull him off that fire escape, into the alley, and turn him into a helpless mess until he was begging her for mercy with tears in his eyes – she could only imagine the soft color behind the red glasses. Were they brown, green, or perhaps even blue? They surely would turn black with lust and then gloss over with exhaustion from the sheer overstimulation when she was done with him. Though she would only stop when the color of his eyes would disappear behind his eyelids as he slipped into a state of unconsciousness, the pleasure causing his mortal body to shut down and submit even more to the power she wielded. 

“Apparently, someone took it.”

“Since when do people steal files from a police station, Sergeant?” 

The man shrugged. “It’s not the first time,” he said. “Happens more often than you might think.”

“What now?” her nameless stranger asked. 

She could only imagine his mouth moving in sync with his gravelly voice, the movement of his Adam’s Apple in his throat as he swallowed, and the way his hands balled to fists at his sides, the beautiful veins protruding and his knuckles turning white. She wondered how those hands would feel somewhere other than a cane or a metal rod. How they would look tracing not the brim of glass but rather a different opening. Playing with wetness until his hands were coated in it the same way he played with the condensation on the glass of his drink. 

“Sergeant, if you want me to help you, I need more than a whim to go on. Do you have anything you could give me?”

“Look, I can’t help you,” the Sergeant said, “but if I did know something, I would suggest scouting out the docks. Ground zero seems to be close to the docks, but I’ve also got word that the rest of Manhattan might be involved too, so I’d be careful if I were you.” 

“Thank you.”

“Yeah, whatever. We have heightened police presence there since the first suspected overdose, consider that before you make any wrong moves.”

That stopped him. “Suspected?” he questioned.

He was a smart one. Her lip curled into a distant smirk.

“I’m not saying it’s not an overdose, I’m just saying they’re too suspicious to be instantly ruled as such. It’s my opinion, not the official statement, and everyone else here at the station and even the DA’s office agree with the drug epidemic explanation. But I’m not sure it’s right to assume that, not yet, not without evidence,” he said. “We judge people way too quickly these days.”

The stranger chuckled again, his voice darker than when she met him, but the darkness he displayed was something she thoroughly enjoyed. It was enticing, eliciting an excitement she hadn’t felt in quite a while.

“Are you talking about me?” he asked sheepishly, and she imagined him smirking. He seemed more confident in that alley, fully in his element, not at all as submissive as he had been around her. 

She wondered if there were two sides to that man whose name she still hadn’t figured out. 

The Sargeant scoffed, opening the door back into the precinct. Hot air met the cold one outside, causing the air to condensate. She could feel it even from a distance, the changes in temperature, the warmth that felt more wrong than it felt right. 

“Just be careful,” he told him. 

The fire escape squeaked and the sound of his boots disappearing into the distance had her frowning. Blind men don’t jump rooftops and they don’t do parkour. There was more to him than she first suspected. He wasn’t the innocent man he made himself out to be. He had dark secrets that went way below the surface. Her curiosity was spiked. She needed to see him again and she needed to have him now. 

She held the file in the air, watching as the edges started to crinkle and the fire spread from her fingertips, infecting the paper. The folder lit up, filling the night with yellow flames and the ashes of the several documents gone with the wind. 

When the paper fully dissolved, she closed her fist and the last remaining flame vanished. 

As the mysterious stranger made his way over the rooftops of the city, she turned in the opposite direction. Her first instinct was to follow, but there was no fun in chasing him just yet. She wanted to play some before she did that and wanted him to know more about her before she completely destroyed and corrupted him. His beautiful soul would only remain a faint memory. 

The doors into the old, abandoned church swung open. The benches were occupied with exactly five people, two of them Eli and Talon, and the rest of what she liked to call her family, but historians would have called them a coven. An assembled group of vampires qualified as such, as did more than one witch sharing the same ideologies and sharing the same living space. That’s what the two species have in common - they are both widely hated by all kinds of religions except for Satanity. 

Six vampires living in a church sounds like the beginning of a bad joke, but the place had been abandoned years ago and there was no official owner, so it was run-down and, most importantly, they didn’t require an invitation to enter. So they made their home there, choosing Hell’s Kitchen as their turf and claiming it as their territory. That had been years ago and the small chapel grew significantly to feel like home since then.

“Cold-blooded murder,” she recited as she walked down the aisle, “Blood baths, two injection sites on the neck, suspicious behavior making humans thirsty for blood, and the police declared it a fucking drug epidemic!” she said. “What century are we living in, people? Is this the seventeenth or the eighteenth? Have we traveled back in time so that these words can be used in the same sentence again, right here in New York? What bad dream am I having right now, because it surely can’t be real?”

She reached the pedestal, stepping up in front of the altar. 

“Seriously, what is happening?” she asked. 

They all stared at her with wide, confused eyes. Those weren’t the faces of people who were about to cause a supernatural war of the undead. They were pretty much caught off guard by her accusations and that gave her hope, considering she knew them pretty well by now to know their tells when they were lying. 

“Please tell me that it’s not one of you currently going on a rampage in Hell’s Kitchen, turning innocent teenagers into ruthless, blood-thirsty vampires, and breaking every rule that was set for us when it comes to hunting humans. Tell me none of you is going on a fucking murder spree!”

Her voice boomed off the high stone walls, almost cracking the colorful windows that adorned the church, pictures displaying passages of the bible and glowing bright red under the moonlight while others shone in blue and green. Though that night, red was truly prominent, and it fell right on her pale face, making everything appear dangerously dark about her. 

One of the younger men raised his hand. 

“William,” she called. 

He stood up, clearing his throat, his hands tangled together in front of his body. He was the shy one, the one she had to pick up because he was starving himself due to his fear of what he had become after he was brutally turned by a woman he thought he could trust. It had been a very dark time back then, early twentieth century, and vampires in the States were still on the loose without a care in the world. There were no rules, only bloodshed, and the covens had body counts higher than the entire population. 

“None of us is going on a murder spree,” he said. 

“Are you saying that just because I want to hear you say it or do you actually mean what you just said?” 

“I, um… you know what, I’m just gonna sit back down.” 

“Wise choice.” She nodded. “So, William’s not a killer. What about the rest of you? Anyone trying to start a rebellion?”

Eli shrugged. His answer was obvious, “It’s not me.”

“I figured. You let your dinner stay for breakfast, and you know, you prefer blood whores. Gives you a sense of superiority, which of course, is not how this works. But anyway…”

The group burst out in laughter and Eli glared at her from across the room. “Very mature,” he said. 

“I’m just giving you a taste of your own medicine,” she said. “Now, anyone else wanna share?”

Another hand rose in the air. “I’m honestly just knitting,” the woman said. As a demonstration, she lifted the half-finished scarf - they didn’t even wear scarves - and threw the ball of wool in the air. “I tried my hand at a very complicated cardigan, but that project failed, so I’m just going back to my roots.”

“Thank you, Helen, but I never doubted you, not even for a second. You’re a total sweetheart.”

“It also wasn’t me,” Talon spoke up. “But you already knew that.”

“Yes, because you are too stupid to cause such mayhem,” she stated plainly. “That leaves only one…” she let her eyes roam over the pews until she found who she was looking for. 

His head hung low. Was he… sleeping?

She rolled her eyes. “Oh, for fuck’s sake! Can someone please punch Adam in the face?”

Eli stabbed him with his finger. The man shot up, causing the bench to creak. “I’m awake!” he declared. 

“Thank you for gracing us with your presence,” she answered sourly. “Did you hear anything I just said?”

Adam looked around. All eyes were on him. He rubbed his very heavy eyes. “I zoned out after you said bloodbath.” At least his confession was honest. 

She sighed. She was living with a bunch of idiots. She shouldn’t have suspected them. They weren’t capable of the monstrosities that she saw in the police file. 

“Never mind,” she said in exasperation. “You’re all dismissed. Now please, fuck off. I need to be alone so I can fucking shoot myself.” 

She wondered how they even managed to make it this far without getting caught. 

“Talon.”

“Yes?” he replied.

“I need to get back out there. You’re in charge while I’m gone. Make sure that these idiots don’t kill themselves or each other.” 

“Are you sure that is such a good idea? Going out there, I mean? We don’t know what we’re dealing with,” he said. 

“No,” she stated after a slight moment of hesitation, “but I’m the only competent one in this house, so I have to step up.” 

Her version of stepping up was simple. Scout the docks, stake out if necessary, and confront anything she deemed suspicious enough to risk getting caught. She hoped to run into one of the young vampires, at least, so she could make them answer her – the young ones were never bright, always controlled by hunger and the new intensity of their emotions. The anger was the most brutal one. 

It’s like that even for humans – anger blinds, anger poisons, and anger can tear worlds apart and start new generations built on the same ideals. She witnessed anger and greed topple empires that had once been strong and flourished. There is no limit to what anger can make a person do. And vampires, like any other enhanced species, experience most emotions ten times deeper and worse than the ordinary human being. 

She felt that effect even after years of being trapped in the same body, in the same state she was left in back then, and especially as she stood on the roof of the warehouse by the docks, overseeing the Hudson and the city that laid on the other side of the shore. She learned how to control and live with her anger. She learned how to survive. Though there were moments when even the highest form of self-control failed and she was stranded with the blade of a hot knife stuck in her sternum, digging further to tear apart her cold, dead heart. 

The hunger was the worst part. It had the ability to cloud her mind completely and dictate her every behavior with the purpose to stave that hunger, which was a near-impossibility. There was no satisfying a hunger that had been there for centuries, that not even pints of blood could satisfy. In the years she lived, she learned how to live with it, but always going hungry was also no real way to live. It was awful, constant torture, and with every passing century, she grew more tired of the life she was forced to live. 

In the distance, the wood creaked. One of the boats on the harbor displayed movements in its belly. The light only faintly fell on the source of the noise. A figure emerged behind the barrels stocked on the pier, heading straight for the oblivious fisherman who seemed to have stayed around to have a celebratory beer after bringing home quite a large catch of fish. She could smell them across the docks, already tied in bags to take home, but the victor was still inhabiting his boat. Humans have always been particularly obsessed with the art of fishing; it had once been their largest source of food income and fish is still pretty high up on the list of shippable goods. Though there was nothing worse to her nose than the smell of several fish perched together in one place. The stench was astronomical. 

A young vampire was far more sensitive, though once hungry, there was nothing but blood on their minds and so none of them would run at the smallest hint of fish in the air, let alone the fear of getting caught. They didn’t have that kind of perception, not yet at least, because this particular behavior was taught. Primal nature dictated them to be monsters and without the proper training, the hunger would control them instead of them gaining control over the real monster – the insatiable thirst. Self-control is one of the hardest traits to gain, but it goes a long way, especially for creatures of the night who were born to be the opposite of compliant and self-aware. 

If you want to live amongst an emancipated species, you have to learn how to conform to their rules and compromise, if necessary. You have to be willing to change your true nature to fit in and become something more than what history made of you. All of it comes back down to self-control. Without self-control, there can be no rules and without rules, society is doomed to collapse. Rules are what make a society habitable. 

If there was one thing all young vampires had in common it was their lack of stealth. The young boy she had heard lurking behind the barrels across from the fisherman’s boat only checked the corner to his right, his eyes bright red as the moonlight fell on his blacked-out irises. 

She cocked her head to the side. Someone trying to preserve themselves would have gone about this much differently. He stopped tip-toeing when he caught her scent in the air, slowly turning in her direction, and the way he looked straight at her reminded her of a frightened deer or a child caught in the act of stealing something. He was stealing, it just wasn’t something so easily explained. What he was stealing and risking went beyond what the human mind was capable of comprehending, let alone the brain of a young vampire that had absolutely no rational thoughts left behind. 

He froze dead in his tracks and she sighed, almost like a condescending mother trying to teach her disobedient son a valuable lesson.

“I see what you’re doing,” she stated.

The boy licked his lips, revealing parts of his very sharp fangs. Another thing about the young ones – they didn’t know how to mask. One look at them and your first thought would be a vampire. Red eyes, protruding veins around the sockets, pale, clammy skin, and strength and speed they couldn’t control yet. Stealth was little to non existent, as was their sense of self-preservation and control. They were like unruly babies turning into toddlers overnight, the Devil on their shoulders whispering sweet sins into their ears and causing them to make the worst decisions. Right or wrong didn’t exist in their world. They knew what they wanted and they would try everything to get it, rules be damned. 

Even though they all started out like this, not many chose to stay that way anymore. Once you learn how to live by the rules, it’s not that hard, and she grew to love the routine. 

Without someone to teach them, young vampires could turn into everyone’s worst nightmare, and then everything she had worked so hard toward for centuries would have been for nothing. 

“Fair warning,” she said, “Don’t.” 

He bared his teeth. 

“Oh, I’m shaking in my boots. Not. What’s your name, kid?”

He looked no day over seventeen, at best. His mother was probably worried sick. Little did she know that her worst fear, her son dying, had come true but in a far worse sense than she could ever imagine. Who he was now had nothing to do with the boy he used to be. The young vampire staring back into her eyes dark and empty had nothing left inside of him but insatiable hunger. His soul was clouded by the demon inside of him and chances were that it would never fully recover from the monstrosities he committed and would still commit. 

She couldn’t stop him, she knew that. If she took him with her, whoever was responsible for the sudden spike in bloodless corpses would only create more of him, and take more teenagers from their parents until they got what they wanted. She needed to know what that was so she could stop the war that was looming on the horizon. She couldn’t have an apocalypse, not when her life was going semi-normal for a change. She quite liked New York, she wasn’t done yet. 

“Who did this to you?” she asked again. 

“Leave,” he growled. 

“You see, I can’t do that. I want to, believe me, but I can’t. You’re too young, too inexperienced, so I’m trying to tell you this as easy as possible. What you’re doing right now is breaking all sorts of rules. You’re hunting on our turf,” she said. “My turf. My coven and I live here now. If you continue causing mayhem and destruction and turning innocent people into vampires, you’re breaking a truce that is far older than you, your parents, and great-great grandparents together. There is a set of rules for a reason…”

“You need to leave,” the boy repeated.

She ignored him. “This truce,” she continued, “was put in place over a century ago to assure that vampires and humans can live together in peace. Covens are not supposed to turn innocent people into vampires, let alone leave them without someone to teach them the ropes. A vampire out of control poses a danger to all species and if you continue what you’re doing, your actions will lead to war.” Her eyes narrowed. “Or perhaps that’s what you want. Is that it? Do you want us to be at war again?” 

He smirked. 

“You weren’t there the last time. It was ugly. That’s why there are rules, right?” She motioned as if explaining the way the world worked to a toddler. “To prevent such unnecessary bloodshed from happening again. To prevent us from killing each other,” she explained. “That’s what those rules are for, okay? Prevention, not causation. You’re supposed to stick to the rules to prevent a war that would destroy more than it would fix, and world domination doesn’t happen just because you say ‘fuck it!’ And shine a dangerous light on all vampires in the process. We’re not all alike. Every coven knows that,” she said. “Whoever made you is only using you to get ahead. In other words, you’re fucked and doomed to get slaughtered in the end. Either by your own kind, a war, or maybe even one of the very ancient vampire hunters that are only waiting for a chance to get back at us.”

Talking to him was futile. He didn’t follow a word she said and even if he had, he wouldn’t have understood. Young vampires were so stupid, naïve, useless and a nuisance. To think they all started out this way grossed her out, even though she made saving the lost causes of the world her life’s work. 

Her logic was twisted and more often than not illogical, but she was wise and considered herself above average in intelligence, simply because she had been around for quite a while. She saw empires rise and fall. She stared into the darkest pits of existence and still managed to come back from the abyss. Her life had been a series of doors in her face, which led to several life lessons being taught over the course of centuries. She was no angel, but she wasn’t stupid and she had one job: make sure the truce would remain intact. And she would do just that, even if she had to eliminate that young boy in order to do so.

He didn’t say anything for quite a while. “Get out of my way,” he growled. Of course, he would settle on something as dramatically pathetic as this catchphrase. “I’m starving and I won’t hesitate to hurt you if you keep me from my meal.” 

“Ouch,” she cocked an eyebrow, “You really bruise my ego, thinking you can get through me without getting hurt yourself. I’d suggest you think about your actions,” she said, “but I know that I’m practically talking to a wall right now, so thinking isn’t an option. You’re incapable of rational thought.”

Fear was the last thing that came to her mind when he showed off his teeth again.

“Listen, I just want to know who’s behind this. Who’s leading your coven, kid?”

“Fuck you!” he spat.

“Hey now, no need to get vulgar. I asked you a normal question. Who’s behind this and is there a chance I might get to have a conversation with the one in charge? Tell me and I will gladly point you in the direction of a different hunting ground,” she said. 

The boy nodded toward the boat. “I want that one. He’s mine. Don’t even try to stop me.”

“Yeah, but you can’t have him.”

“I’m going to have him.”

“No, you won’t.”

“Stop disagreeing with everything I’m saying!”

She shrugged. “Can’t help that you’re wrong all the time. I’ve never learned how to shut up. It’s genetic; centuries of untreated trauma are at fault here, and of course, your general wrongness plays a big part in my need to disagree with your embarrassing hypotheticals.”

“Go to hell!”

“Already did. You know, of course, pride always goes before the fall. Such a human trait to have; multiply it by a thousand, where does that leave you? Certainly not more sophisticated than me, someone with hundreds of years of experience. You need to be careful, young vampires like you are at an even higher risk to be discovered and murdered before you even get the chance to learn what you were given with this transition.” 

Finally, he launched at her. She sped away, gone in a matter of a second, and appeared a few feet behind him, heaving a heavy sigh. “You kids are all the same,” she declared, looking into his very distraught eyes. He couldn’t believe she had switched that fast. “Fast but reckless and extremely easy to trick.”

A moment later, he stood in her spot and she was gone again, crossing her arms behind her back.

“You done?” she asked. His attempts to attack her only made her laugh, “Oh, so terrifying.”

She had him right where she wanted him, so agitated that he spiraled out of control, no longer aware of where he was going or what he was doing. She watched him dance for a bit. By now, he surely must have realized he wasn’t going to win. But the pride was stronger and he kept going, trying to get to her in all kinds of ways, though never succeeding. 

“I feel bad for you. What would your mother say if she saw you like this?”

He stopped. His left eye twitched. She saw the wheels on his head turning and she thought, finally, I got him. 

What did she say? Pride goes before the fall.

She caught the billy club that soared through the air in their direction only a few inches from the boy’s face. Her lips pursed and she stared at the red object, feeling the heavy metal between her fingers and the small ripples in the material. 

When she turned her attention back to the target, the boy was gone. He had sped away, using the moment of distraction to run. She couldn’t sense him anywhere; he must have escaped the docks completely, not even staying close to the Hudson. He was on his way home. The fisherman was safe and she had diverted quite the disaster, but she still deemed the interruption rude, including the attempt to impale that poor boy with the billy club. She had thought about it, but she would have never gone through with it. Whoever the weapon belonged to had to have been close by. 

Her night just kept getting better and better. That was her assessment, at least, until she heard his heartbeat again. The scent of him brushed the hairs in her nose and she took a whiff, feeling his presence so close in the air, she stopped to let the sensation wash over her. The fire inside of her belly ignited once again, the excitement tickling her cold skin and leaving nothing but lust and hunger to rummage through her veins. 

Footsteps thudded against the asphalt, stones crunching under his weight. They were slightly wet from the previous rain, causing a slight slip. 

She lowered her hand with the billy club, turning to look over her shoulder at the supposed blind man in a suit. She had seen that get-up before in the papers when he first showed his masked face in Hell’s Kitchen. She never thought much of it since he had never posed a problem before. 

The tables had officially turned.

Her lips parted to chuckle. “This is awkward,” she said. In the distance, the waves of the Hudson crashed into the riverbanks. It was colder than usual with a breeze in her hair that caused the water to go wild. 

She fiddled with the red billy club, smirking, “Does this belong to you?” 

“Who are you?” his voice sounded significantly lower than the night she first met him at that godforsaken gala. 

To think she didn’t want to go in the first place; she would have never met him if she hadn’t let Talon convince her that she was supposed to show her face. A political move, he called it, to assert her dominance, which she did, but not in the areas that mattered. 

“What are you doing in my city?”

She pouted. “So many questions.”

“Who was that boy you were just talking to? Where did he go?”

“What happened to hello, how are you? What’s your name?” She retorted. “Take a girl out for a drink first, would you? Back then men used to still be gentlemen.”

His chuckle was rather dark, a sound that made her shiver and imagine what it would sound like to reduce him to whimpers instead. The man was a brat, no doubt, not easy to force into submission, but she had cracked worse nuts. Surrendering wasn’t her forte, but she could make it everyone else’s.

“I’m not here to play games,” he told her.

“But I am,” she said. 

“What do you want?”

“As far as I can recall, I made that pretty clear when we first met.”

“When we- I don’t know you,” he lied and she realized how bad he was at it for a lawyer. 

She licked her lips, the fangs threatening to come out. She was starving. “I quite like an oblivious man. Makes things so much more exciting.”

“Listen, I don’t have time for small talk. There have been several suspicious murders around this part of New York and you’re currently my only connection, so you better talk before I make you.” 

“Just out of curiosity,” she said, “what does making me entail?” 

“Oh, for fuck’s sake!”

He headed straight ahead, determined to grab her, and she watched with an amused crinkle in her eyes. The downward tilt of his lips was truly something to laugh over. 

She allowed him to push her against the wall behind them. His force was surprising – those arms didn’t just look scrumptious, they actually carried a lot of strength for a human. 

The stranger bared his teeth and she smirked, eyeing his focused expression. He tried to look intimidating but failed miserably. One of his hands braced against the cement beside her head and the other landed around her neck, a threatening motion to assert dominance. They were all so predictable and foolish enough to think that a woman like her couldn’t fight back.

Everywhere she went, she was underestimated. If only everyone knew her true nature, they wouldn’t be so reckless as to push her into corners over and over again. Or in this case, against cement walls on the docks in the middle of the night, right in the middle of her hunting ground with not another human soul close enough to hear him scream. And water is knowingly a great way to dispose of a dead body.

He squeezed tighter and she unclenched her jaw, wriggling out of his grasp in the process. “You’re a kinky bastard, aren’t you?” she asked. 

“Answer my question,” he bit back.

“If you answer mine first.”

“This isn’t a game. Lives are at stake here! Listen, I don’t know who you are or what you are,” he said, “but if I find out that you had anything to do with these innocent kids getting slaughtered or know something about this new drug everyone is talking about, I will find you and I will destroy you.”

“You know, if it weren’t for the way you smell, I wouldn’t have recognized you, all confident in your little devil’s costume,” she purred.

Her finger slid up the leather of his suit, brushing over his tensing abs hiding behind the protective gear and she sucked in a sharp breath at the illusion she received.

“All of this tension and I still don’t know your name.”

He caught her hand and pinned it over her head. She squealed. He was full of surprises, and it only turned her on more. She wanted to bite him, really bite him, and suck on his pulse until he was crying her name and praying for God to save him, but the pleasure would only drive him further to hell and God wouldn’t be coming. She wanted him to writhe under her touch, taste him and make him come undone over and over again and once he believed she was done with him, she would start her torture anew, right from the beginning, pushing him from the precipice just far enough so she could catch him, bring him back to the top and then do the same thing in repetition all over again.

He roamed her face aimlessly, as it seemed, but barely visible behind the mask. “How?” he growled.

“Wouldn’t you want to know?” She chuckled. “It’s unfortunate that we had to meet again like this, but…” In an instant, she had them flipped around, her arms pinning him to the wall instead of herself and her strength remained unmatched. He could struggle, it was of no use. She had the upper hand.

Her breath tickled his ear as she spoke, far too close for comfort, “You smell absolutely divine. It’d be a shame to waste all that sweet, sweet blood for a second time,” she said.

He couldn’t move. Sharp nails raked through his hair and over his scalp, tugging his head to the side until his throat was completely bare to her, naked, exposed. His aorta pulsated wildly under his skin. She could see it bulge with every beat of his heart. That strong, masculine heart, stronger than anything she had heard or felt before.

She tasted the sweat on his skin and the salt of threatening tears in the air. If he was turned on or scared, she wasn’t sure. The lines between fear, pain, and pleasure blurred. It was all the same to her, anyway. Getting close to her would most certainly draw everyone under her spell at some point, no matter the sex or gender, and all the heads would continue turning to her whenever her presence entered a room full of lively human beings. Only then her pheromones could work their wonders.

The Devil of Hell’s Kitchen struggled against her grasp but to no avail. He was powerless, just how she liked him, how she wanted and craved him.

She licked a long stripe over his pulse point. “I want to taste you so badly,” she whispered. “I want nothing more than to dig my teeth into your pretty little throat and suck you dry, and then I want to get on my knees and eat your cum so I can feel it mix with the essence of what your heart has to give, and then you’d be mine. I’d own you. You’d be completely at my mercy, you’d be bound to me and it would feel so fucking good. It would feel so fucking good for the both of us.”

Her fangs began to scratch the surface, enough to make him feel it but not nearly enough to break the skin. She tasted the salt of his sweat even clearer now, wondering how much deeper she had to go to finally reach the source of the sweetness that surrounded him.

“Don’t you want that?” Her hand joined the words slipping from her silver tongue and wrapping around him like a poisonous snake. “Don’t you want to let me corrupt you, to bite you, to eat you until all you can feel is the pure pleasure of having me all over you? My lips, my tongue, my teeth, my body on yours everywhere, all the fucking time… oh, that would be such an orgasmic sight, and the pleasure you’d be feeling, I can’t even describe it. You won’t know until you at least try and believe me, you should. Isn’t that something you want, darling? Doesn’t your body crave to be caressed and receive undivided attention from someone who knows how to make you feel good?”

He sounded small, fragile, and utterly broken when he next spoke, and she hadn’t even started yet. “What are you doing to me?” he asked. The heat of his breath mixed with the cold night air. “What are you?”

She chuckled. “The better question is, what am I not?” The tip of her tongue moved from his neck to his cheek until she reached the corner of his luscious lips. Her nose dug into his cheekbone. “Fuck,” she said. “The things I want to do to you are far from innocent.”

But so fucking good. 

Even with fear holding the reins to his body, he melted into her touch. He turned into a puddle of melted chocolate right at her feet. She could have asked anything of him, he would have done so just for the sake of pleasing her. But she wanted him to do it voluntarily not because the smell of her pheromones managed to drive any man into a state of co-dependency. 

She wanted him to want her for the sake of wanting her. Like this, she would only compel him to do things he would never choose to do out of his own free will, and while the thought of having him right there on the docks was exciting and had her cunt squeezing around thin air, already wet and wanting, the only treacherous thing about her that was entirely defenseless and could be forced into submission with just a simple flick of the tongue over plump, rosy lips. He had her on the cloud of dangerous euphoria in seconds, already stumbling on the edge and about ready to slip, lose herself, and lose control only to have him, finally, in all the ways she pleased and all the ways that would make him feel good. 

She could give him anything he had ever wanted, give him a time that not a single human could give him, and make him come undone inside and outside so many times, he would pass out from the pure pleasure. But he wouldn’t regret it. He would go out this as the winner, fucked out and blissful and perhaps a little addicted to the taste of her as well – she was sure she would be addicted to him as well. She almost already was, just from the scent of his blood and the way his body shivered at the slightest touch. He was so responsive, so human, yet stronger and more unique than anyone else could ever be. He was the one thing she wanted and she was ready to take it as soon as he wanted it, too. 

She was used to taking what she wanted however she wanted and screwing the consequences, quite literally, but not with him. With him, the need bubbling up deep inside of her belly was different. It wasn’t just a hunger for blood or a hunger for sex and pleasurable violence, he caused much more than that within her already conflicted soul, and as enticing as that was, the connection confused her. There was a reason she didn’t let anyone close, using sex as a mere pastime activity to get the edge off – she couldn’t toy with him because chances were she would reduce his survival chances to zero. 

Allowing a human like him close would only cause pain in the long run, and she’d been through enough of that for several lifetimes. And that wasn’t even an overstatement. 

Her lips brushed over his momentarily before she forced herself to pull away, widening the distance between them. 

The poor man slumped against the wall, his world rotating. He took it much better than most people, but the sweet taste of his fear in the air reminded her that he was just human, after all. A curious, enticing, and mysterious human, but a human being nonetheless.

Humans serve only one purpose for vampires like animals serve a purpose to humans – predators hunt their victims to feast, sustain themselves and survive. Humans are essentially animals and vampires used to be humans turned into hunters, predators, and dangerous perverts who craved blood to survive while at the same time using it for twisted, sexual purposes that had God locking the gates of heaven to anyone who even dared to fantasize about it. There is no ancestor ready to turn around in their grave because vampires were born from lust and hunger, and the first vampires had been carnal creatures as well, ready to go at it like animals without a single brain cell at their disposal.

Vampires weren’t like that anymore. Sex still played a huge role in their existence, but their main purpose was to fit in. They wanted a peaceful life. Taking everything they wanted was no longer possible, their chances were limited, but at least they didn’t have to fear imminent death anymore. Not ever since the truce was first established, anyway. 

If those young vampires continued killing and turning innocent children without mercy, and their coven even supported their decisions, the peace would have been short-lived. She could already see it swindling with every passing second, though fear was not something she wanted to concern herself with, not yet. Her life had more important things to offer before she rang the warning bells on all the vampires she knew, therefore causing a certain commotion that would send the gravestones rolling. Not yet, she decided, but if they kept going at this rate, certainly very soon. 

“Go,” she growled into the night. “Do yourself a favor and stay away from the Hudson until further notice. You can never know what blood-thirsty and murderous monsters might lurk in the dark around here,” she said. 

He didn’t move. 

“Did you hear what I said?”

“You don’t get to tell me what to do,” he said, his voice remaining steady. 

She frowned. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah, you don’t scare me. Manipulate me all you want, this isn’t the first time an otherwise scary woman fails to put me under her spell. But,” he smirked, “don’t take it personally. I’m sure you look pretty scary.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” she cooed, her eyes switching from their natural color to a glossy black. “You have no idea who you’re talking to, do you?”

The red nails adorning her fingers grew sharper and in size. If only he could have regained his eyesight, he surely would have changed his mind. Her skin turned even whiter, the bags under her eyes sinking deep into her skull, replaced instead by thick, purple veins that transported the venom from the core of her existence into them. She was chaos, an abomination, humanity’s biggest threat – not scary was a description she wouldn’t accept.

No matter how blind he was, he had to follow the natural order of things like everyone else. He was supposed to be afraid of her. If he couldn’t find it in himself to show her, all of her games would inevitably lose their fun factor. And her ego would suffer the most. 

Open an ancient book about demons and a picture like that might stare back at you. 

“It takes a lot more than dark magic to scare the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen,” he told her.

It was cute. Remarkable, really. She laughed at his attempt to make himself feel better, and partly because she was starting to grow upset with him.

“Somehow, being infuriated with you only makes you so much more attractive to me,” she said. 

“You still don’t scare me.”

“Enjoy it while it lasts.”

Five seconds. The heartbeat of the fisherman rang loudly in her ear. She was starving, her last meal far too long in the past. He wriggled in her grasp, crying, begging for her to let him go, to have mercy on him and, “Oh, God, your face- what happened to your face? Are those- are those fangs? Please, I have a family!” 

Her laugh reverberated in her chest. The man stiffened when she tore at his hair to position his head sideways, his neck in perfect reach for her mouth. She looked at the man in the suit before her, his jaw clenched, and he had his billy clubs at the ready. They weren't going to hurt her, he knew that. She would catch them with ease. He could only stand by and pretend he wasn’t scared even though he had never been more in sync with the feeling. They were a package deal when it came to her. 

“Don’t worry,” she told the poor fisherman, “You’ll see your family again, and you won’t even have to remember a thing.” 

Her mouth opened.

“Don’t,” Daredevil threatened – yes, it was a threat, not even a warning – from the other side of her, and she saw the conflict dance clearly over the revealed lower part of his face. “You don’t have to hurt him,” he said. “The man’s innocent.”

She shrugged. “I know.”

“He has a family.”

“I know. My ears are quite impeccable, can you believe that?”

“How about you think this through before you act? There’s a lot of ways you can go about spiting me, but pulling an innocent bystander into this is not fair. Come on, you said you wanted me, so take me.” 

As lucrative as that sounded, she had a different plan. 

She hummed, “No.”

“Why? Are you scared? Perhaps you’re not such a bad person after all. Is that it? You want me to be afraid of you, so you’re trying to hurt that man until I cave? Well, I won’t, but I’m offering myself to you instead of him, so don’t try so hard. Just take me. Take your shot.”

Oh, he sounded so amused – time to wipe that smirk off his beautiful face. 

“Ancient advice,” she ignored everything else he had said, “Don’t be a martyr,” she said and her lips rained down on the fisherman’s throat in a fiery passion. “History hates martyrs.”

“No, history only consists of martyrs.”

“The official version. The truth lies much deeper than your little human brain could ever explore.”

Daredevil was right about one thing; the man was innocent. No matter how she turned it, there was nothing wrong with him, so death would have been unnecessary punishment.

She wasn’t going to kill him just to spite the man she craved to actually have a taste of. She was just going to take a sip, still a quarter of her hunger and then move on, heal the man’s wounds and make him forget this ever happened. He would be disoriented, but he would be fine. 

Humans are the most susceptible to manipulation.

“Don’t be afraid,” she told the fisherman, “I’m just going to have a little taste of the forbidden fruit.”

Her teeth dug into his aorta and she sucked, tasting the blood that squirted into her mouth and all over her face in thick stripes. He tasted nothing like the feast standing right across from her, but it didn’t matter. Her mind shut off. The hunger moved to the forefront and at that moment, everything else stopped existing. It was just her and the life of this particular human in her hands, the taste of his blood exploding on her tongue and her stomach churning with the endless hunger that only got fueled with the small taste. She wanted more, needed it, but she knew better than to let the desperation overpower her. 

Passed out and short of a few pints of blood, the fisherman fell to the ground. She licked her lips. He was everywhere, even stuck on her clothes and traces of him had gotten tangled in her hair. He was a bleeder, that much was sure, and if she hadn’t licked over his neck to seal the wound, he surely would have bled out. 

Poor thing, but sentiment was useless in a case like this. He would make it. No use crying over a blood bag, she was taught. Humans lived to feed them. It was their purpose and she had no reason to feel bad for wanting to be full for a change, not go to bed hungry because she wouldn’t dare touch someone that wasn’t already in a plastic bag. She deserved this. 

And Daredevil cowered in fear at the sounds he was met with. Her night had turned from a total shit show into the sight of victory. 

She stepped forward and he flinched away, finally. “You wanted to know what I am. This is it!” she declared. “I’m the monster parents warn their children about and I’m the one thing every church fears because I happen to stand against everything religion stands for.”

“Dear God,” he breathed out.

“God can’t help me now,” she said. Her eyes moved to the sky, watching the stars disappear behind a thick cloud of smog and thousands of lights from the city center. “He stopped doing that the second I died. He’s dead to me now. He cannot be found. There is no God, there is only hunger and I’m probably the most merciful of them all, so I’d run if I were you. I’d run before another one of those demons God gave up on saving, jumps out of the dark and decides to suck the life from your pretty little body. I’d run,” she said, “because there is not a millisecond that goes by in which I do not want to tear your neck open and drink your blood while I also desperately want to suck your dick between my lips and do the same to those veins too, and the longer you stay the more my self-control starts to fade into the thin smoke that comes out of your mouth whenever you speak.”

He shivered and the color faded from his skin, blood pooling in his veins at twice the amount and the smell almost knocked her off her already hazy feet from the first course. 

More, her body screamed, but she held back. She learned how to hold back. No one had to die tonight.

“Run now or I’m cutting this short, and then Hell’s Kitchen will no longer have a Daredevil to protect them from the likes of me. They won’t even get the chance to mourn because it’d be impossible for me to drop your body in the Hudson after getting a taste of your blood.” 

He turned around, finally getting the hint to run. He jumped the wall up to the rooftop too gracefully for a blind man. She watched, her bloody lips moving into a smile. 

“Fear is healthy,” he heard her loud and clear. “Don’t let your pride cloud that healthy feeling from manifesting. And find me,” she said, “when you’re ready to talk without underestimating me.”

By the time she looked back up, Daredevil was gone with the wind, but his scent still lingered long after he had left and she would take it to bed with her where the most unholy of things would happen to the sound of a name she didn’t even know. 

She should have fucked him when she had the chance.

[sardonic-the-writer]

Do you recall the restaurant mod video Tom made?

With Schlatt running a Schlottzky's? Do you have any HCs regarding them as a team at the restaurant?

- 🕷️

art in the middle by @/waddei on tumblr!! not mine

• I'd like to imagine that you'd work as an inspector of sorts—visiting once every other week to check on the place and talk to Schlatt behind closed doors

• You don't spend nearly as much time at the restaurant compaired to if you were a full time employee at the establishment, but you still see enough to feel like you're a part of the chaos in some weird way

• It probably all started on your first visit to the place—when you were grabbed at the wrist by a frantic Charlie just as you stepped through the doors to the diner; afermentioned man screaming (in a very high pitch) at the top of his lungs as he ran from Schlatt chasing after him with you as his human shield. All the while yelling something about how he didn't want to be circumcised again

• That was just your first time meeting them

• Schlatt had apologized to you at first after he had caught up to Charlie and sent him back to the kitchens where he would deal with him later. But after learning that you weren't going to press charges, and honestly found the whole thing kind of funny, he stopped giving a so much of a shit

• "Oh, you're one of those laid back asshole up at the Big Corp? That's nice, that's nice. Business can always recognize business, as I say here at Schlottzkys." He had cackled, popping open a bottle of something from behind his desk to pour in what looked like an alcohol glass

• "With all due respect Mr. Schlatt—"

• "Call me Big Man, toots."

• "—the most business I've seen from you was threatening to circumsize your employees."

• He laughed loudly before changing the topic, still leaving you to wonder what all that had been about to this very day

• Eventually on your second visit back, this time to answer a complaint a customer had sent straight to corporate about a dangerous looking stove, you got to meet both Tommy and Niki in the kitchens

• Tommy was as energetic as a fast food employee could be, which was still overwhelming to say the least

• The first thing he asked you after shaking your hand at the speed of light was if you wanted to see how he cleaned the bathrooms. Only after catching Niki vigorously nodding for you to say no out of the corner of your eye did you politely decline

• Niki was a sweet person in herself, if not very outwardly disturbed. You could see that Schlottzskys had taken its toll on her, and the more you stuck around the longer you wondered if it was the restaurant doing that, Schlatt, or even the customers

• Seriously. Some of the customers you had had the pleasure to meet were downright crazy. One was even dressed up as a milkman carring what he called his 'blood boy' around. The last you saw of him was through a cracked door to Schlatts office. And personally, you didn't want to get involved with whatever that was

• Schlottzskys is filled head to toe with crazy people, questionable morals, and was probably being run by some sort of weird citizen mafia. But the longer you spent ganging around the place, the more you found yourself growing attached to the joint

[anthonybialy]

Ivy League in League with Hamas

I hope Columbia students are as dedicated to their studies as they are to LARPing.  I doubt it.  They seem to not know much of anything.  Portraying aggressive foes of Israel confirms such.  Refusing to move from ground that was never theirs shows commitment to the cause.

College brats crave pretending they’re something other than political science majors doomed to beg Joe Biden for debt evasion.  A university that wanted to continue to pretend to be taken seriously would deny outdoor squatters the right to Sha Na Na presale access codes.

Instead, expect a flurry of senior theses based on how leaving plants unwatered in an Amsterdam Avenue apartment for three or four days allowed the non-Israel parts of the Middle East to finally prosper.  This is the school where a showy phony lied about being raped so she’d have an excuse to drag a mattress around campus as a regrettable standard of performance art, which makes today’s showy truancy unsurprising.

Acting violent while pretending to not be reflects a wholesale refusal to interact with reality.  True cosplayers act just like their beloved terror cause.  Man, they are focused on playing along.  Their habit of harassing Jews shows solidarity.  Claiming they were the victims all along is what the keffiyeh represents.

Tom Wolfe’s ghost has never been busier.  Earth’s most entitled brats throwing a tantrum while camping on Manhattan’s Ivy League grounds to show fondness for an invading terror squad means he’s still releasing novels a page at a time as news reports.

A Peoples’ University doesn’t sound quite elite.  Those seizing land are presumably honoring prominent Democratic activist Jim Jones’s naming conventions without realizing it.  Like every other contemptible notion that preening quad radicals believe, the inadvertent hilarity stems from their patent ignorance.  While it’d be nice if they were informed, the rest of us can use the laughs.  What are they supposed to do during college: learn?

The sort of students you’re glad you never drank with get to pretend they’re doing something righteous with a lawn campout.  Guilt over unbelievable privilege leads to fretting about the less fortunate.  Enrolling in a moral vacuum prompts sympathy for terror instead of victims.

Columbia students think The Diary of Anne Frank has a happy ending.  Confused reading list participants know what they would’ve done during World War II, namely defend Normandy from invaders.  The claim that 2020’s city torchers were the equivalent of Allied soldiers got sillier just when you thought that was impossible.

These advanced times sure are unenlightened, at least for those at the costliest and therefore best colleges.  Society regresses without learning from primitive times.  Let’s say there’s precedent involving campus radicals defending terror movements.  Collegiate nitwits once again romanticize ghastly assaults against decent people in respectable societies.  A useful degree would feature learning how many of them are not.

Praising the terror side is how the smuggest brats from your high school class battle for the underprivileged.  Hamas engages in rather intense bullying they’d surely condemn if it involved misgendering.  Total non-anti-Semites just happen to be ganging up on the one Jewish state.  Tormenters get every last detail wrong, including which side features people who want to be left alone.

Students fume about a sliver of land that at its narrowest is smaller than the island upon which Columbia lies is long.  It’s not just the lack of real estate that makes Israel an underdog.

The one Middle East country that would tolerate idling undergraduate uselessness can afford to on account of that whole natural rights bit.  Citizens could claim it was awful without consequence.  Go ahead and hold a pride parade in Tel Aviv.  I’d envision a permit tie-up for anyone trying the same in Gaza. Rather confused observers add exercising the right to self-defense to their appalling list of reasons they loathe Jews.

Idle grifters with student IDs get to pretend they’re standing up for a noble cause.  The side against Israel is way less nicer, and underdevelopment must be the fault of oppression.  That sort of logic is common amongst attendees at more prestigious schools.  Ignoring what happened at the music festival to people about the same age helps maintain consistency.

The Morningside Heights campus of Hamas University is a popular study abroad program.  But enrollees can only harvest so much knowledge.  An internship would help.  They can learn from their heroes.  Columbia campers should transfer to Gaza colleges.  There’s a hospital on every corner, which means there must be at least that many schools.  You know it’s bad when the rest of 2024 New York City seems sane by comparison.

Class is boring.  Learn about the real world out on the Columbia quadrangle.  It sure is fun camping out while shrieking insults at civilization.  Real-world experience is supposed to be school’s goal.  Professional terrorists blaming success is the default Columbia student ideology in practice.  Feeling insulated on campus leads to guilty role play.  Flaunt uselessness in the name of awfulness.  This is the best time to dine at Katz’s, as none of the uneducated students will be there.

[saltygilmores]

Thoughts While Watching Gilmore Girls, Season 2, Episode 17, "Dead Uncles and Vegetables", Part I

I have little to no recollection of what happens in this episode except that it involves Luke's dead uncle (duh), which probably means it's filler. Glorious, glorious filler. And I can be free to be SILLY! This one will be silly. Read my reviews of all previous episodes here. The episode opens with Lorela growing irritated as she listens to an excessive amount of answering machine messages left by her mother. Oh, but when Dean does it, its cute?

I feel like I should put this screen capture in my pocket for later use, it might come in handy.

Oh Michel, how I've missed you.

I hope this is one of those episodes where everything is calm and I can just bask in references to outdated technology. Luke calls Lorelai at work because his uncle his dead and he needs to book the inn.

She found 9 available rooms that quickly, business must be slow.

"Today's Desserts" haven't changed in 2 years.

Haven't seen this guy in a while.

Sure, it's bad customer service, but I think Luke should tell more people to shut up. The citizens of Stars Hollow need to be humbled. Where's Jess to help juggle all those orders? Is a little bit of child labor too much to ask for?

I love how Stars Hollow in general is always behind techology wise (I'm not convinced they even have dial up internet yet) but Luke is always even further back. While the citizens are enamored with this new technology called a "cellular phone" Luke has banished them from his establishment and hasn't even caught up to "cordless landline" yet.

Okay, but Luke asking you if you know how to make coffee is a reasonable question. You are in here every morning, afternoon and night where Luke makes your coffee for you. I never see you brew it at home.

The answer to this question is always "Upstairs, jerking off."

If Jess should be at school, then why aren't you at school? Just sayin.

Rory dared to go upstairs alone to look for Jess and Lorelai didn't follow behind her and lasso her with the Rope of Sexual Abstinence? What is the urgent and pressing business that Rory needs to discuss with Jess? Why does she sound, idk, angry? This is puzzling.

Whoa, mama! He looks smoking hot here! His hair is gorgeous and that shirt looks great on him! I'm a slut for rolled up sleeves! I have no memory of this whatsoever. What a nice surprise.

Listen Rory, I like you, but like, why don't YOU get a job? Luke is the Kingpin of Teenage Labor. He's employed Jess, Lane, Zac, and April and he's even had his own girlfriends pitch in and wait tables. He wouldn't be against employing his future stepdaughter.

Rory never worked a paid job in high school except supposedly, working at the Inn in season 1, which I don't believe was a real thing.

Blah blah, she's focusing on academics, blah blah.

Love the bright orange dildo lamp complete with balls.

"I'll be down in a minute, the Spice Channell just unscrambled for a few seconds and I thought I saw a booby."

"I was just about to take my pants off." "Just assume that Jeannie's going to get Major Healey out of whatever scrape he's in." I've never seen that porno. #IDreamOfWeeny #ICreamOnJeannie #OkayOkay #IllStop

TOMATOS SIGN! MY BELOVED! I MISSED YOU! Lorelai's shirt says "For good luck rub my tummy." Lorelai accuses Kirk of hoarding packets of sweeteners to bring home, as if Luke didn't just offer Lorelai a gigantic no strings attached loan some episodes back and he couldn't afford to lose a few sugar packets. Jess emerges from upstairs with Rory close behind him after being out of sight and alone with her for several minutes and for once Lorelai doesn't seem all that concerned that Jess could have been having 2 minutes of raw unprotected sex with her daughter. Remember when she said Christopher got her pregnant in under 10 minutes (lmaaaao, what a sick burn) so she can't leave Rory and Jess unsupervised?

She's even being suspciously nice to him. Huh. Weird. Oh, right, Teach me Tonight is coming up so she's just conserving her energy.

Jess says Rory is gonna break his neck and Rory replies at least it's not his arm.

J: "I need my arm for jerking off." How many masturbation jokes can I fit into one post?

To be continued.

[sisteroutsiders]

Audre Lorde's 1989 Commencement Address to graduates of Oberlin College

Audre Lorde

Oberlin College

May 29, 1989

I congratulate you all on this moment of your lives. Most people don't remember their commencement addresses. Next year, when someone asks you who spoke at graduation, I wonder what you will say. I remember she was a middle-aged Black woman. I remember she had a nice voice. I remember she was a poet. But what did she say? After all, there are no new ideas. Only new ways of making those ideas real and active through our lives. What you most of all of do not need right now is more rhetoric. What you need are facts you don't ordinarily get to help you fashion weapons that matter for the war in which we are all engaged. A war for survival in the twenty-first century, the survival of this planet and all this planet's people.

Thanks to Jesse Jackson (Poem)

The US and the USSR are the most powerful countries in the world but only 1/8 of the world's population African people are also 1/8 of the world's population. 1/2 of the world's population is Asian. 1/2 of that number is Chinese. There are 22 nations in the Middle East. Not three.

Most people in the world are Yellow, Black, Brown, Poor, Female Non-Christian and do not speak english.

By the year 2000 the 20 largest cities in the world will have two things in common none of them will be in Europe and none in the United States.

You are all so very beautiful. But I have seen special and beautiful before, and I ask myself where are they now? What makes you different? Well, to begin with, you are different because you have asked me to come and speak with you from my heart, on what is a very special day for each of you. So when they ask you, who spoke at your commencement, remember this: I am a Black feminist lesbian warrior poet doing my work, and a piece of my work is asking you, how are you doing yours? And when they ask you, what did she say, tell them I asked you the most fundamental question of your life—who are you, and how are you using the powers of that self in the service of what you believe?

You are inheriting a country that has grown hysterical with denial and contradiction. Last month in space five men released a satellite that is on its way to the planet Venus, and the infant mortality rate in the capital of this nation is higher than in Kuwait. We are citizens of the most powerful country on earth—we are also citizens of a country that stands upon the wrong side of every liberation struggle on earth. Feel what that means. It is a reality that haunts each of our lives and that can help inform our dreams. It's not about altruism, it's about self-preservation. Survival.

A twenty-eight-year-old white woman is beaten and raped in Central Park. Eight Black boys are arrested and accused of taking part in a rampage against joggers. That is a nightmare that affects each of our lives. I pray for the body and soul of every one of these young people trapped in this compound tragedy of violence and social reprisal. None of us escapes the brutalization of the other. Using who we are, testifying with our lives to what we believe is not altruism, it is a question of self-preservation. Black children did not declare war upon this system, it is the system which declared war upon Black children, both female and male.

Ricky Boden, eleven, Staten Island, killed by police, 1972. Clifford Glover, ten, Queens, New York, killed by police, 1975. Randy Evans, fourteen, Bronx, New York, killed by police, 1976. Andre Roland, seventh grader, found hanged in Columbia, Missouri, after being threatened for dating a white girl. The list goes on. You are strong and intelligent. Your beauty and your promise lie like a haze over your faces. I beg you, do not waste it. Translate that power and beauty into action wherever you find yourself to be, or you will participate in your own destruction.

I have no platitudes for you. Before most of you are thirty, 10 percent of you will be involved with space traffic and 10 percent of you will have contracted AIDS. This disease which may yet rival the plague of the Dark Ages is said to have originated in Africa, spontaneously and inexplicably jumping from the green monkey to man. Yet in 1969, twenty years ago, a book entitled A Survey of Chemical and Biological Warfare, written by John Cookson and Judith Nottingham, published by Monthly Review Press, discussed green monkey disease as a fatal blood, tissue, and venereally transmitted virus which is an example of a whole new class of disease-causing organisms, and of biological warfare interest. It also discussed the possibilities of this virus being genetically manipulated to produce "new" organisms.

But I do have hope. To face the realities of our lives is not a reason for despair—despair is a tool of your enemies. Facing the realities of our lives gives us motivation for action. For you are not powerless. This diploma is a piece of your power. You know why the hard questions must be asked. It is not altruism, it is self-preservation—survival.

Each one of us in this room is privileged. You have a bed, and you do not go to it hungry. We are not part of those millions of homeless people roaming america today. Your privilege is not a reason for guilt, it is part of your power, to be used in support of those things you say you believe. Because to absorb without use is the gravest error of privilege. The poorest one-fifth of this nation became 7 percent poorer in the last ten years, and the richest one-fifth of the nation became 11 percent richer. How much of your lives are you willing to spend merely protecting your privileged status? ls that more than you are prepared to spend putting your dreams and beliefs for a better world into action? That is what creativity and empowerment [are] all about. The rest is destruction. And it will have to be one or the other.

It is not enough to believe in justice. The median income for Black and Hispanic families has fallen in the last three years, while the median income of white families rose 1.5 percent. We are eleven years away from a new century, and a leader of the Ku Klux Klan can still be elected to Congress from the Republican party in Louisiana. Little fourteen-year-old Black boys in the seventh grade are still being lynched for dating a white girl. It is not enough to say we are against racism.

It is not enough to believe in everyone's right to her or his own sexual preference. Homophobic jokes are not just fraternity high jinks. Gay bashing is not just fooling around. Less than a year ago a white man shot two white women in their campsite in Pennsylvania, killing one of them. He pleaded innocent, saying he had been maddened by their making love inside their own tent. If you were sitting on that jury, what would you decide?

It is not enough to believe anti-Semitism is wrong, when the vandalism of synagogues is increasing, amid the homegrown fascism of hate groups like the Christian Identity and Tom Metzger's American Front. The current rise in jokes against Jewish women masks anti-Semitism as well as women hatred. What are you going to say the next time you hear a JAP story?

We do not need to become each other in order to work together. But we do need to recognize each other, our differences as well as the sameness of our goals. Not for altruism. For self-preservation—survival.

Every day of your lives is practice in becoming the person you want to be. No instantaneous miracle is suddenly going to occur and make you brave and courageous and true. And every day that you sit back silent, refusing to use your power, terrible things are being done in our name.

Our federal taxes contribute $3 billion yearly in military and economic aid to Israel. Over $200 million of that money is spent fighting the uprising of Palestinian people who are trying to end the military occupation of their homeland. Israeli solders fire tear gas canisters made in america into Palestinian homes and hospitals, killing babies, the sick, and the elderly. Thousands of Palestinians, some as young as twelve, are being detained without trial in barbed-wired detention camps, and even many Jews of conscience opposing these acts have also been arrested and detained. 

Encouraging your congresspeople to press for a peaceful solution in the Middle East, and for recognition of the rights of the Palestinian people, is not altruism, it is survival. 

In particular, my sisters and brothers, I urge you to remember, while we battle the many faces of racism in our daily lives as African Americans, that we are part of an international community of people of Color, and people of the African diaspora around the world are looking to us and asking, how are we using the power we have? Or are we allowing our power to be used against them, our brothers and sisters in struggle for their liberation?

Apartheid is a disease spreading out from South Africa across the whole southern tip of Africa. This genocidal system in South Africa is kept propped into place by the military and economic support of the U.S., Israel, and Japan. Let me say here that I support the existence of the state of Israel as I support the existence of the U.S.A., but this does not blind me to the grave injustices emanating from either. Israel and South Africa are intimately entwined, politically and economically. There are no diamonds in Israel, yet diamonds are Israel's major source of income. Meanwhile, Black people slave in the diamond mines of South Africa for less than thirty cents a day.

It is not enough to say we are against apartheid. Forty million of our tax dollars go as aid to the South Africa-backed UNITA forces to suppress an independent Angola. Our dollars pay for the land mines responsible for over 50,000 Angolan amputees. It appears that Washington is joining hands with South Africa to prevent [the] independence of Namibia. Now make no mistake. South Africa, Angola, Namibia will be free. But what will we say when our children ask us, what were you doing, mommy and daddy, while american-made bullets were murdering Black children in Soweto?

In this country, children of all colors are dying of neglect. Since 1980, poverty has increased 30 percent among white children in america. Fifty percent of African American children and 30 percent of Latino children grow up in poverty, and that percentage is even higher for the indigenous people of this land, American Indians. While the Magellan capsule speeds through space toward the planet Venus, thirty children on this planet earth die every minute from hunger and inadequate health care. And in each one of those minutes, $1,700,000 are spent on war.

The white fathers have told us: "l think, therefore I am." But the Black mother within each one of us—the poet inside—whispers in our dreams: "I feel, therefore I can be free." Learn to use what you feel to move you toward action. Change, personal and political, does not come about in a day, nor a year. But it is our day-to-day decisions, the way in which we testify with our lives to those things in which we say we believe, that empower us. Your power is relative, but it is real. And if you do not learn to use it, it will be used, against you, and me, and our children. Change did not begin with you, and it will not end with you, but what you do with your life is an absolutely vital piece of that chain. The testimony of your daily living is the missing remnant in the fabric of our future.

There are so many different parts to each of us. And there are so many of us. If we can envision the future we desire, we can work to bring it into being. We need all the different pieces of ourselves to be strong, as we need each other and each other's battles for empowerment.

That surge of power you feel inside you now does not belong to me, nor to your parents, nor to your professors. That power lives inside of you. It is yours, you own it, and you will carry it out of this room. And whether you use it or whether you waste it, you are responsible for it. Good luck to you all. Together, in the conscious recognition of our differences, we can win, and we will.

A LUTA CONTINUA [The struggle continues].

[domoz]

Alright, @firecoloredwater tagged me in a self-recc meme for fanfic, so:

Rules: Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass this onto other writers. Let’s spread the self-love

Tagging uhhhhhhhh @hashiramashonkers if you want to!

Posted in chronological order because it makes as much sense as anything else:

Hesitation - Critical Hit Included not because I'm still particularly fond of the writing in it, I've definitely improved a lot since then, but because the era of me writing for Critical Hit and the audience of 'literally myself because i need to get the ideas out of my head, and if other people even SEE this it will be so cool' was very formative for how I approach writing now. Summary:

The portal home stands open, but Ket, unclear on what he’s meant to do, hesitates. In just one moment, his window of opportunity has passed. And that is how Ket spends the next five years trapped in the feywild with one Orem Rivendorn.

My Boyfriend is (not) a Vigilante- BNHA I just still think I was so silly for this... It was just very fun to write. I feel like if I had to pick a most underrated fic of mine (at least for this fandom) it would be this one. Summary:

In which pro-hero Chargebolt takes the night shift, meets a cute guy, gets radicalized, and totally forgets that underground heroes exist.

Just a Concerned Citizen -BNHA ...The popularity of this one kind of speaks for itself, I think. It's the first fic where I got an idea, sat down, and wrote the whole outline, and its not perfect, but I think it feels more cohesive story-wise than anything that came before it. Plus its long and it's DONE. Summary:

Midoriya Izuku is a normal, quirkless, college drop-out. He's not a vigilante. Everything he does is perfectly above board and totally legal -- He's double checked. It would be nice if everyone else could see it that way, though. (Izuku becomes an informant, sort of. Trouble follows.)

Hand Over Hand Over Hand - Naruto (Founders) Oops, an unfinished fic slipped in here. Weirdly it's sort of the opposite of the last fic, where the outline is so much more vague than I normally make, but I like writing it, and I like thinking about it, and it is my sincere hope that I can make something good enough that it will make people ship the pairing(s) involved like I do.

Summary:

Uchiha Hikaku, asked by his clan head to join his household as a dignified beta, does not think of saying anything other than yes, knowing he will have no opportunity to ever be closer to Madara than this. His duties will include caring for the household, including Madara's new mate. Which is perfectly fine, Hikaku can deal with that easily. At least, he can until Tobirama turns out to be nothing like he expected, in ways that really shouldn't be a problem, but are. It is a decision he may, or may not, come to regret.

The Bandage the Holds Together - Naruto (Founders) One of those fics that was just an idea that wouldn't let me go until it was written, but this one was actually at a reasonable scope. For the first chapter, then I thought "what about Hikaku's POV" and did it AGAIN, and it turns out the difference in how characters think about stuff is fun to think about. Summary:

Soulmates are rare and prized in the world of shinobi. The healing and implicit loyalty always makes for something powerful and prized -- and not something that's supposed to be found between two members of an enemy clan. So, no. Tobirama wasn't expecting this.