#epitaph post
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sapphicplurals · 1 year ago
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Presenting butch or femme can be super hard as a system, especially when you're partnered butch4butch, butch4femme, or femme4femme (+any other combination), but have other system members who use different labels than you.
Shoutout to everyone who wants to present butch! To those who want to present femme! To those who are both and/or neither! To those who can't and those who can, to those who present differently on different days, to those who feel shame for doing so and for those who are proud of your system-wide fluidity.
You do not owe singlets a single, system-wide label. You do not owe anyone an explanation. You just owe yourself some appreciation for getting this far.
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starshipabyss · 1 year ago
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just went on a personal rant about being aro + amatonormitivity AND someone was like "its literally not that deep" like i didnt say it has to be? this is my experience? AND THEN. APROS OF MENTIONING I WAS A SYSTEM. they said "i just assume anyone who says they're a system is lying" HELLO? BLOCKED!
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schizoautisticisms · 3 months ago
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oh man we need to redo this blog
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daenerysoftarth · 1 year ago
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“Stranger, what I say is short. Stand and read over it. This is the hardly beautiful tomb of a beautiful woman. Her parents called her Claudia. She loved her husband with all her heart. She had two sons, one of whom she leaves on earth, the other she placed under it. With pleasant conversing but respectable gait she cared for her home and made wool. I have spoken. Move along.”
Roman epitaph CIL 06.15346
x
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sgt-tombstone · 13 days ago
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I feel like both of the snipers in the 141 (Ghost and Soap, sorry Gaz and Price) are such good snipers that they can use pretty much anything as a "sniper" (long-distance, pinpoint-accuracy, high-lethality)
They're both really good at using their pistols at much longer distances than anyone else and with much greater accuracy. Whenever they get their hands on a machine gun, they like to have competitions to see who can more precisely burst fire a target. Hell, one of them even brings in a revolver to see how far they can snipe with it, just for fun. They both have favorites, though
Ghost's go-to is knives, obviously; he loves pushing himself to see how far, how fast, how accurately he can throw knives, which makes him absolutely terrifying. Soap will watch him wind back and throw a knife at mach jesus across an entire field and sink directly into someone's throat
Soap's go-to is grenades, specifically grenade launchers. Sure, it's a large-scale weapon, which means that he has a lot of wiggle room because a grenade to the side of a building will do just as well as a grenade that actually makes it through the window he'd been aiming for. But his favorite thing is to aim directly for people. He'll snipe enemies by firing a grenade directly into their chest or face and even Ghost will raise his eyebrows at the carnage
something about them taking their sniper training and mixing it with their individual passions makes me happy
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nopanamaman · 1 year ago
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I'm reposting the following from Twitter, but it holds equally true for all the feedback I've received on here in tags, messages, and reblogs. The responses to my video post and checking the #pafl tag have both been extremely rewarding and brought a huge smile to my face:)
Anyways,
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Thank you all so much for the amazing support on 100 epitaphs!
I'm extremely grateful to everyone who shared their thoughts on the video in comments or messages, and I wish I could respond to each and every one.
Your kind words make all the work worth it and are the best motivation for me to try and make each episode better than the last.
Thank you from the bottom of my heart!
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twintraps · 2 months ago
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asexual kryptos moodboard
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blighted-elf · 9 months ago
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Warhammer 40000: Rogue Trader - Epitaph To Walk Bravely First into Darkness
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kagamiwalker13 · 8 months ago
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AN EPITAPH FOR BARBARA RADZIWILL (1983) dir. Janusz Majewsk
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tumblingxelian · 4 months ago
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Underrated Writing: .Hack's Morganna Mode Gone
There's a villain I don't think gets enough credit, Morgana Mode Gone from .Hack//Sign, Liminality and the four part game series, plus the AI Buster novels.
Brief summary:
Hack is set on a slightly altered history Earth, where in part due to plot & also the era it was conceived it blends the Sci-Fu futurism and "The internet is magic" together with the "Isekai" and "Trapped in a game" story concepts. Different eras of the series have different tones & structures, but this is covering the early eras overarching Villain.
Morganna Mode Gone is the "God" of a game simply called "The World", which was based on the writings of the epic poem Epitaph of Twilight.
But in truth she is more akin to a Gnostic deity, false or proto god. Because her primary purpose is actually to tend to and facilitate the birth of the worlds Ultimate AI, Aura.
I mean actual AI, as in, artificial intelligence, not some shitty algorithm tech bro idiots slapped a trench coat on.
Morganna Mode Gone is herself an artificial intelligence, one capable of contradicting herself, ah sapience, but is still bound by the rules of her programming.
This is a problem for her because once Aura is born/awake, Morganna Mode Gone won't have a purpose and she can't really conceive of what happens then.
As a result, before the series even began she essentially fragmented off a portion of her own identity, forming the Vagrant AI Macha, but she couldn't solve the problem.
Because if Aura dies, then Morganna Mode Gone also has no purpose. She needs a way to Ouroboros this situation, leaving Aura always growing but never developing, never waking.
She also trapped her and Aura's creator in The World when he realized what was happening. He survives the series but never escapes, and eventually devolves/evolves into a sort of living relic.
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It was around this period that she began breaking & twisting things to try & escape the paradox she was trapped in. Re-styling herself from Harold's idea of a mother into the Cursed Wave.
This included orchestrating the hunting down and deletion, IE murder of other Vagrant AI's that were forming as a result of the Black Box meant to birth Aura, IE, proto Aura's, like Lycoris.
"I am an unwanted child. Even God doesn't want me." — Lycoris —
As well as using Macha or Guardians to 'Data Drain' any humans who get to close, which at its lightest, leaves them temporarily comatose, destroys their characters and has a negative impact on their mind.
You might notice Moraganna Mode Gone has not yet been established as making an appearance, good eye.
See, one of the things that makes her so interesting to me is that Moraganna Mode Gone is nominally omniscient, omnipotent and omnipresent figure.
She is the underlying system of The World itself and for all intents and purposes a force of nature. As a result she primarily acts through intermediaries, or by guiding others to act for purposes.
Managing to make a villain like this work, and work so effectively is one of the biggest strengths. As it is, we pure Moraganna Mode Gone as a disembodies voice that influences the world & creatures.
She also has some fantastic lines, though not quite as effective without the atmosphere and delivery, I still love them, such as:
"The higher up it is dropped, the worse the crash will be. Hope is the best spice to bring out despair." — Morganna Mode Gone —
In order to accomplish her goal, Moraganna Mode Gone has Macha manipulate and Data Drain Tsukasa. A human who she had been watching and trying to replicate for some time, but without getting what she needed for her goal.
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This also involved warping Tsukasa's memories, leaving only those of her abusive father, and creating a divide between her real world identity of Shoji and online identity Tsukasa, to further weaken his ties to the real world. Tsukasa's gender is rather liquid, as far as I can tell and either way, also a lesbian.
"The World and all of its wonders; this is my world, you see."— Tsukasa —
The reason for this was to essentially tie Tsukasa's desire to stay within The World to Aura's development. So long as Tsukasa never wanted to leave, Aura would never want to wake up.
However, other determined players, isolation, and a disconnect from physical sensation leading to alienation led to Tsukasa gaining connections and desires outside of simply staying in The World.
This, Morganna Mode Gone began... Moving chess pieces so to speak. Orchestrating traumatic incidents. Giving Tsukasa a pet monsters for protection but that would also attack those she wanted gone. As Tsukasa continues to develop independence Aura's health improves, VS her sickened, pallid state when Tsukasa is locked in survival mode.
Things eventually come to ahead and well,
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Morgnanna Mode Gone basically destroys Tsukasa's mind to ensure a perpetual state of despair and catatonia. Permanently stunting Aura's development.
Much of the rest of the series, is centered on the rest of the characters gaining the necessary knowledge to finally understand the situation.
As well as the Macha fragment of Morganna Mode Gone's ties to Tsukasa creating doubt and Subaru and Tsukasa's bond managing to slowly begin waking Tsukasa up.
Which naturally leads to Morganna Mode Gone needing to orchestrate more despair, but circumstances such as the bastion of Net Slum & her programming keep her from auto winning.
A great deal happens, including some mind fuckery and illussion conversations. Along with more classive abuser tactices like holding the threat of what awaits Tsukasa in theoutside over head.
But eventually Aura is awakened by Tsukasa's desire to return to the real world regardless of the hurled and the characters escape with Aura, thanks to the turncoat Sora.
Suffice to say this doesn't pan out well for him.
Morganna fragments more of herself and uses him as a sort of beacon & vessel to craft the first Phase of the Cursed Wave:
"Riding the Wave is Skeith, the Shadow of Death, to drown all that stands." — Epitaph of Twilight —
This is such an imposing threat that Helba, thematically the same Helba, Queen of the Dark from the Epitaph of Twilight, has to erase the entire world segment they are in just to keep Skeith away from them and put Aura beyond its reach for a time.
Skeith continues to be hosted inside Sora in an ensuing novel, with Sora flittering between amnesiac, malevolent brat and an utterly inhuman monster which violates the basic principles of the game.
But is eventually devoured by Skeith and continued hunting down Aura until the Phase is defeated in .Hack Infection. A memory of Sora leaves behind a reward for the one who did the deed.
Moraganna Mode Gone wasn't done however.
As all this was happening, she basically began fragmenting off parts of herself into other portions of the Cursed Wave:
Skeith:"The Terror of Death"
Innis:"The Mirage of Deceit"
Magus:"The Propagation"
Fidchell:"The Prophet"
Gorre: "The Machinator"
Macha:"The Temptress"
Tarvos:"The Avenger"
Corbenik:"The Rebirth"
Relying on the logic that Aura wasn't yet 'finished' or otherwise not not correct 7 so needed to be destroyed like any other Vagrant AI, so Morganna could start the process over again.
These phased also sent anyone they encountered into comas and even altered electrical installation and internet usage with their presence, while generally corrupting The World.
Fun fact, they all have the symbol of an eye on them representing Morganna Mode Gone's presence in them and her observing the world through them.
Skeith actually did manage to capture and fragment Aura, but not before she created the Bracelet of Twilight, and with it the Eldrich horror Cubia to combat the Cursed Wave.
Morganna Mode Gone would eventually fuse with the last of her Phases in a bid to directly end her foe that had slowly, over the course of four games, destroyed the other seven phases and Cubia.
Ultimately, Aura had to sacrifice herself to ensure Morganna Mode Gone would be destroyed, but in doing so, also allowed herself to be reborn .
Remnants of her continue to haunt and corrupt the world in the form of Data Bugs and an effort by the parent company to recreate her through the lingering fragments of the Eight Phases doesn't go quite to plan, let's say.
Conclusion:
But yeah, Morganna Mode Gone, No one is doing it like her, she has everything:
She is a force of nature and omnipresent goddess, to a Gnostic false god & a program breaking itself & everything around it in the quest for agency inside its own mind that struck down her creator.
She's a woman bound to and violently rejecting the sacrificial role of mother & seeking to destroy that which will supersede her & a manipulator and abuser, as well as philosopher and prisoner.
She is a corruptive influence on the world as well as the very foundation upon which the world world itself is built & she is the Cursed Wave, part of a story, a myth, a poem that is woven into The World itself.
What's more,
Her fragments in the Cursed Wave Phases are all a wonderful blend of eldrich, Biblical & elemental. Something only enhanced by the games Graphics of the time:
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saturn-scribbles · 1 year ago
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i really want to scream, a candle burns another photograph
[id: a digital drawing. it is fan-art of parties are for losers. there are two versions of Sanya. the one on the left has glasses, her hair down, and a yellow t-shirt. she is facing away from the camera. the one on the right has her hair up in a ponytail, a white shirt, and black pants. she is gripping the other one's shoulder and winding up for a punch with an angry but desperate expression on her face. both versions of sanya have white skin, red eyes, and straight grey hair stylized in spiky shapes. the background is dark red with the text "naive little girl" in big letters. /end id]
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sapphicplurals · 2 years ago
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We're sapphic plurals! Run by Starship Abyss, a polyplural praesigenic DID system, we hope to bring some light and positivity for plural people who fall under the sapphic umbrella.
Disclaimers:
Please don't involve us in any sort of discourse. We believe that people know themselves and their identities best, so don't involve us in any queer discourse/identity discourse. In addition, we are accepting of non-traumagenic systems, but do not want to participate in syscourse.
We are trans friendly/supportive/are trans ourselves.
Please don't involve us in any other discourse, such as shipcourse.
What this blog hopes to do:
Spread positivity!
Allow people to share their experiences via our askbox/submissions!
Provide support!
Who this blog is for:
Sapphic plurals
Sapphic singlets
Sapphic headmates who are the only headmate who are sapphic
Sapphic plurals who are all sapphic
Sapphic people who are sapphic only some of the time
Sapphic people who are sapphic all of the time
Aro sapphics
Ace sapphics
Apl sapphics
And on and on and on! The sapphic experience is much more varied and beautiful than portrayed, and if you are sapphic, you belong here
Extra stuff about us below the cut!
Call us Epitaph / Mantis / Jamie! Collectively it/its, voi/void, rot/rots, they/them (preference in that order, only use these if you don't know who is on bridge).
Here (x) is a link to our frequent crewmate list, or people you'll see more commonly on the blog.
We use a lot of spaceship analogies. "On bridge" refers to front, "crewmates" = headmates, and so on and so forth.
We're an adult bodily
We're all queer
We're all neurodivergent + mentally disabled
We are white + TME
We are all collectively on the aromantic spectrum, and might post about that occasionally
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starshipabyss · 2 years ago
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sigh....
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schizoautisticisms · 7 months ago
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Deleted our last three posts, we want to talk about it but don’t feel comfortable sharing anywhere rn. We thought we’d feel safer on this blog but we don’t
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graveyardrabbit · 5 days ago
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sgt-tombstone · 20 days ago
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When Soap caught a glimpse of the red and white app on Ghost’s phone, he wasn’t sure he saw it correctly. It was the quickest flash, out of the corner of his eye, in a dark and crowded pub the night after one of the longest ops they’d been on in a long time. Surely, it wasn’t…
But then he saw it again, a few days later, when Ghost pulled out his phone to message Price about something inane, Soap sitting next to him like always. And there it was: Clue Period & Cycle Tracker.
He knew he’d recognized it the first time; it was the same app that his sister used when she and her husband had been trying for their second child, and he’d know the app logo anywhere with how often she’d shoved her phone in his face, complaining about fertility windows and PMS. But, contrary to popular belief, John MacTavish knew when to keep his mouth shut, so he didn’t mention it, despite the questions crawling up his throat like ants.
That didn’t mean he didn’t acknowledge it at all, though. It was a little hard to come to terms with, his hulking lieutenant being trans, but it didn’t change how he felt about him, the smoldering lust (and love) that he felt just by being in the same room as him. He needed to show Simon that it didn’t bother him, that he’d be supportive of him no matter what. That he would love him no matter what.
So, in typical MacTavish fashion, he started talking. Small stuff, at first, comments about how fucking stupid anti-trans laws were or how he’d always prioritized the people he loved over whatever was in their pants. It was awkward at times, and maybe a little heavy-handed, but he was trying his best. All it gained him, though, were confused looks from everyone around him, Ghost included. At one point, Gaz even pulled him aside and pointedly asked if there was anything he wanted to tell him, but Soap didn’t dare out his lieutenant, so he stammered through a denial and beat a hasty retreat.
Maybe he needed to be more explicit. The on-store base sold the bare minimum of period supplies, and he didn’t know anything about Ghost’s cycles, so he grabbed what he vaguely remembered his sister mentioning, along with some chocolate, pain killers, and a heating pad. It wasn’t much, woefully inadequate and almost comically small in the only box he had in his room, but… he was trying his best.
He knocked on Ghost’s door that night, box under his arm and heart in his throat. When Ghost opened the door, he practically shoved the box into his chest, his face burning with embarrassment, and Ghost leveled him with a questioning look as he waved him inside. The last thing Soap wanted to do was have this conversation, but he stepped in anyway, heart hammering as Ghost closed the door behind him.
“What is this, Sergeant?”
For once, Soap didn’t know what to say. Maybe this was a bad idea. How did one tell their superior officer that they were aware of and fully supported their gender identity, despite said superior officer never having actually told them about it? They didn’t, that’s how. Except that’s exactly what Soap had to do, somehow.
“I, uh,” he stammered. Great start. “I just wanted tae-“
“Why are you giving me pads, Soap?”
Soap wanted the floor to swallow him whole and leave nothing but a soot stain on the floor to indicate his swift descent into hell. Ghost had opened the box and was looking over it at him, one eyebrow raised in bafflement.
“I just,” Soap said, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. Was it hot in here? He felt sweat drip down the valley of his spine as Ghost continued to fix him with that same expectant stare. “I just thought ye might-“
“Do you think I have a period, Soap?”
It wasn’t said with an air of disgust, or even derision, just earnest curiosity, but it prickled something defensive in Soap anyway, and he rushed to explain himself.
“Ah saw ye had an app on yer phone and it’s the same one my sister uses so I figured ye were trans and just hidin’ it well so I just…”
He drifted off, words petering out when he registered Ghost’s chuckles. In fact, he was full on laughing, curled slightly over the box still in his arms, one hand raised to his face, pulling off his mask to wipe at his eyes. Hot rage swept through Soap at the sound.
“You bastart,” he cried. “Ah was just trying tae be supportive and yer laughin’ at me-“
“I’m sorry, Soap,” Simon said, schooling his expression slightly, but Soap could still see mirth dancing in his eyes. It was a good look on him, and it was hard to hold onto his anger in the face of it. “I’m feeling very supported, thank you.”
Hard, but not impossible. Soap glared at him through narrowed eyes, crossing his arms over his chest.
“If yer gonna mock me, I’ll take the box back, ye bampot,” he muttered, but Simon pulled the box closer to his chest, protective of its contents.
“It was a gift, Sergeant,” he said, shaking his head. “No take-backs.”
“What are ye, five?”
“Thirty-five,” Simon corrected, a glimmer of mischief in his smile. “And not trans, either. Though I’m sure every trans person is very appreciative of your wholehearted support.”
“Fuck ye,” Soap said without heat. The tension drained out of his shoulders and he slumped slightly where he stood in the middle of Simon’s room. “What’s the app for, then?”
“It’s to keep track of the side effects of my medications,” Simon shrugged, putting the box on his desk and stepping back over to his bed, but not before Soap noticed him pocketing the chocolate. “My psychiatrist recommended it. Works well, even if it gets confused that I never actually have a period. Good for keeping track of trends, though.”
And that… Made sense, all things considered. He knew that Simon took a small handful of pills everyday when they were on base, medications to help with his anxiety and other PTSD-related symptoms, but he’d never thought about the side effects that they might have. His confusion must have shown because—in a jarring moment of deja vu—he abruptly had a phone being shoved, albeit more gently than his sister had, in his face. He immediately recognized the app’s calendar, tracking various symptoms in colored tabs on each day. Most of them were orange, having to do with mood or sleep or energy levels, but some were blue or green, and he wasn’t sure what those were for. None of them, notably, were red.
“Oh,” he said dumbly, a little shocked at how forthcoming Simon was being about all of this. “Ah guess… Ah can take the stuff back then.”
“Don’t you dare,” Simon said quickly, a little teasingly. He put his phone back in his pocket and stepped unsubtly between Soap and his desk. “When your sergeant shows up at your door with chocolate and pain killers, he’s not allowed to leave with them, too.”
“Surely ye don’t need the pads, though, LT,” he said, cheeks heating with embarrassment again.
“I’m sure they’ll come in handy the next time you get shot in the field,” Simon smirked, dodging Soap’s badly-aimed smack with a chuckle.
“Ahm sorry,” Soap said quietly, not letting himself get swept up in Simon’s good mood. “Ah didnae mean tae assume-“
“Johnny,” Simon said quietly, suddenly in his space, his bare hand rising to tilt Soap’s chin up, forcing him to meet Simon’s eyes. They were soft and genuine where they bore into Soap’s, and the sight made his breath catch in his throat. “Thank you. You were wrong, but I appreciate the thought.”
“Yeah?” Soap said, embarrassingly breathless. When Simon nodded, he risked placing his hands on Simon’s hips, heat searing through the black fabric of his shirt.
“You noticed what no one else did and tried to be supportive the only way you knew how,” Simon continued, gaze still pining Soap in place, and Soap really needed him to step back or else he’d be very aware of exactly what effect his voice had on Soap.
“I always will, sir,” Soap breathed, and then abruptly stopped breathing at the darkened look in Simon’s eyes.
“You always take care of me, Johnny,” he rumbled, and the dam broke. Within a heartbeat, their lips met, a slick slide of teeth and tongues and pent-up desire, their hands sweeping across each other’s bodies, touching everything in reach. Soap felt one hand tangle at the base of his mohawk, the other splayed across his lower back, a radiating heat diffusing across his skin. His own hands were clenched in the back of Simon’s shirt, holding him as close as possible as he pushed himself up and forward, as far into Simon as he could get with layers of clothes and skin and muscle between them.
After an indeterminate amount of time—Soap couldn’t have guessed minutes or hours for all the money in the world—Simon gently broke them apart with a palm on his cheek, his hand so big that it covered the entire side of Soap’s face, and the thought made him whine even as he let himself be pushed away. They didn’t go far; Simon pressed his forehead against Soap’s, both of them gasping each other’s air as they caught their breath.
“Fuck, sir,” Soap panted, eyes pressed shut as he struggled to process what had just happened.
“Want to find out what exactly you were wrong about, Johnny?” Simon asked. Soap looked up at him, eyes flying open in confusion, then glanced down when Simon tilted his head with a smug smile. In the scant space between them, he could see the clear tent in Simon’s pants, and he couldn’t have stopped the moan that ripped out of his throat if he’d tried.
“Fuck, sir,” he repeated, looking up again, his eyes dancing with excited lust.
“I was hoping to,” Simon replied, and his laughter echoed around the room as Soap shoved him down onto the bed, his grip on his sergeant pulling them flush.
Later, as Soap laid on Simon’s bed, sprawled and strung out, the scent of sex heavy in the air, his limbs even heavier, he couldn’t help but to be glad, for the first time in his life, that he’d been wrong.
Read it on ao3 here!
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