#here the more merciful thing is to intervene early

[thedragonagelesbian]

On top of luc's whole 'i have been craving intimacy and affection all my life but could never once indulge those desires because the templars could take it away from me or a demon could use it to trick me' deal, the wynne butting in on his relationship with alistair situation is made even WORSE bc. I decided. Luc's first baby gay boy crush was on the son of a merchant who occassionally did business with the Circle and who was 'planning' (in that way you do when you're ~11 and you think you're invincible) to help luc escape from the circle. Until he disappeared and luc never saw him again.

Only to find out. Years later. That irving knew about the relationship and quietly terminated the father's contract to do business with the Circle. Bc the alternative was letting luc try to escape and get caught, and given his general disposition toward antagonizing the templars, Irving was worried he wouldn't survive that particular encounter.

Better. Precisely as wynne tells him. To suffer now and avoid more pain later. :)

[lookbluesoup]

I've been pondering Nate's backstory a fair bit, and especially thinking of ways to parallel with Gale's. I really don't know ThAT much about the BG lore but I've been poking around on the Forgotten Realms wiki to at least have a rough idea of things

Early Years

In this universe Nate's father Cato was a Drow, which kinda sucked for Cato. Sorry man. Growing up in Drow society made him vicious and disillusioned and manipulative.

Nate's mother Adlevia was a human Druid from a small Circle - raided and destroyed along with the patch of woodland they loved, with many taken into slavery. She survived the longest out of those captured, owing to the ferocity of her survival instinct. Long enough for a spark between her and Cato to inspire him to abandon his homeland and elope with her - at great personal risk to both.

They fled to deep forest, strong in magic and far from civilization, where she could protect them from all but the most determined of incursions, and it was here Nate was born, where they hoped he would be safe from their own pasts.

But Cato and Adlevia had lived through real horrors, and a lifetime of pain and resentment was hard for Cato to put aside. So was all Adlevia had lost. They were in love, but it wasn't an idyllic marriage. Fights were frequent and not always hidden from Nate, who often felt compelled to intervene. Cato could be outright abusive in the name of preparing Nate for life. Adlevia was stern, demanding in her lessons on Druidcraft. They wanted to protect Nate - but they wanted him to be able to protect himself, too.

Thus self-doubt seeded itself in Nate at a young age, and he couldn't help but blame himself for his parent's strife -- as many small children are wont to do.

Cato died while Nate was in his adolescence, Drow have long lives and long memories and the slight of the lover's escape was unforgivable. He fell in defense of the wood, and his family.

Widowed Adlevia lived to a goodly age, but she was human, and made no attempts to extend her life beyond it's natural span. Even raising a child who grew so much more slowly than a human child might. She was elderly before Nate was old enough to live on his own, and gone from him before he would have liked. But she'd taught him to survive.

---

Mielikki's Favour

Nate took naturally(hah) to Druidcraft. His friends growing up were the beasts and birds and dryads of the wood. He wandered through it without fear, and took a particular mastery to Wild Shape. He would run with the wolves and flock with the sparrows.

In spite of his parents efforts to prepare him, Nate had a soft heart. He would mend wounded animals and restore withering plants, unable to watch them suffer in silence.

He found, as a young man, a wounded hind. Ravaged by some predator she'd escaped, only to have her strength fail her.

Most would have killed her as a mercy. It was only a hind. Adlevia would have urged Nate to if she'd known - for death is a natural part of the cycle of life, and trying to mend such grievous wounds might only extend the hind's suffering without saving her.

Nate wouldn't. Couldn't. For weeks he laboured tirelessly to care for her, until she could stand again and her pains were but a memory.

It was in this way he drew the eye of Mielikki.

She came to him as a woman, russet-haired, soft of step. And they ran wild through the forest together for a time. She was the wind in the leaves and the songs of the birds and the babble of brooks. Of course he loved her. And because he loved her so dearly, she loved him in kind.

He did not at first realize it was a goddess he had taken up with. These were arguably the happiest years of Nate's life and he would have been content to live out the rest of his days with her. But of course, all things have seasons.

Mielikki knew Nate was mortal, even if Drow blood made him longer-lived than most, and that, ultimately, he belonged with his own kind. He needed to be part of nature, not simply alongside it. She told him as much. Their tryst ended amicably, Nate accepted her wisdom, even though it hurt.

---

Folk Hero

From there he began to wander, leaving the safety of his woodland home for forests unseen. Always he felt Mielikki watching over him, though, and took solace in her continued favour.

A Druid with no Circle, he aided man and beast alike where troubles found him. As decades passed he developed a reputation as a Folk Hero - how could he not, a half-Drow appearing from the woods with wolves at his heels, helping strangers in unexpected - often bloodless - ways, and vanishing again.

So it went, until the Nautilus, and everything Nate cherished both in the world and in himself would come under siege.

[ohitsjoeagain]

Nuclear Annihilation of Miami will Precede the Rapture

(𝐋𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐬 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐋𝐨𝐫𝐝)

The dream that I had of the nuclear annihilation of Miami and the message and the promise that came with this just a few days afterward.

I dreamt that I was on a white, sandy beach on a sub-tropical ocean and a fishing dory was nearby with fishing nets and primitive looking implements. It was obvious to me I was not in America. It was a sunny day, perhaps midmorning or early afternoon and I was occupied cleaning a fishing net when I turned and looked behind me, over my right shoulder across the ocean, and saw a first sized cloud on the distant horizon. It quickly began to swell, getting bigger and bigger and I realized that a city in the distance, though I could not see it, had just been struck with an atomic bomb.

I cried out, "Oh, my God!" and awoke from the dream.

Immediately, I knew the dream had been from Holy Spirit. All I could do was pray for mercy. Later I looked for the location of the city and determined that it was either Houston viewed from the eastern coast of the Baha, or Miami viewed from a Cuban beach. I'm pretty sure now, looking back on it, that I was looking northward, so it would have been Miami.

"Lord, I want to know more about what's going to happen in the world and what I can do to help. You know I did not want to pry into things that are far beyond me."

At that point, this was during my prayer, before me was a beautiful white and sandy beach, edged with aquamarine waters. There's something strange, though. All the way down the beach, as far as the eye can see, large grey masses have been thrown up along the shoreline. As I looked more closely, I realized they were human bodies. It was so gruesome I dared not look any more closely.

I turned to the Lord and asked solemnly, "Where are we?"

He answered, "Nassau in the Bahamas.

"There will be carnage such as has never been seen. Do you remember the message you were given many years ago? 'Do not fear death, O' righteous inhabitants of Earth."'

And I do, I remember that, and I will share it with you at the end of this message.

We were now suspended above Earth between the Bahamas and Miami. Jesus was weeping and I was in shock. It was one blackened mass. At once we could see up close and there was not a survivor stirring.

"Are you listening to Me?" Jesus asked.

Numbness engulfed my entire being and I simply could not comprehend what I was seeing.

He began again. "You will still be on the Earth when this happens, but very quickly afterwards I will whisk you both away in the Rapture."

I asked, "How soon after this happens will You take us, Lord?"

He answered, "Within a week."

"Seven days?"

"At maximum. There's no reason for you to be here past that point."

"Lord, I don't know what to say."

"Such carnage as this has never before fallen upon the Earth. Never was it possible for a man to inflict this kind of damage on My Creation. Were not the End soon approaching, I would intervene - but it must happen this way for the fulfillment of Scripture. Because you are leaving so quickly, you will finally understand: there's no need to store up anything. Nothing to worry about, no shortage or lack."

I think it's worth noting here that there's been a lot of confusion over when the Rapture would happen: before the Tribulation, after the Tribulation, mid-Tribulation. I think that it is noteworthy the Lord said about the coming of the Son of Man in the 29th verse of Matthew 24.

Matthew 24:29-31 But immediately after the tribulation of those days the sun shall be darkened, and the moon shall not give her light, and the stars shall fall from the sky, and the powers of the heavens shall be shaken: and then shall appear the sign of the Son of man in heaven: and all the tribes of the earth mourn, and they shall see the Son of man coming on the clouds of heaven with power and great glory. And he will send out his angels with a trumpet blast, and they shall gather together his elect from the four winds, from one end of the heavens to the other.

The point I'd like to make here is this series of events that fits this particular outlining here that the Lord gave is that, if you were to see the Earth from above and there was an exchange of nuclear missiles back and forth between the Middle East and US and Europe, it would be unprecedented chaos. And of course, from all of the release of pollutants from these bombs, the sun would be darkened and the moon wouldn't give it's light. That all fits that profile. And that the Lord sends out his angels to the four directions to gather His elect - that makes sense. And the trumpet blast - that makes sense that that would be the Rapture. So, it does indeed make sense that this atomic war would begin before the Rapture. That's not to say this is the Tribulation, this is something different. This is a war, a nuclear exchange that will wreak havoc on the planet and perhaps throw things off course in the heavens and certainly obscure the sun and the Moon.

I take this prophecy, this word from the Lord very seriously and it explains a lot to me as to how all this could come about and still be a pre-Tribulation Rapture.

And as an aside here, this is very interesting to me. I was starting to, well you know we have a food bank, I was ordering extra food to store up and the Lord rebuked me for doing that.

He said, "No, I don't want you to do that." and so I gave all that food away and stopped doing it. I couldn't understand why, but He explained it to me here. I'd like to leave food for other people, but out of obedience I'm not going to do it.

One thing is certain - the Scriptures must be fulfilled. Mercy leaves boundless room for God to intervene but certain things must take place. It is in His hands and in the prayers of our hearts to see to it that the greatest mercy possible could be shed on the world and the souls of those involved in these events. Especially the grace of conversion to these souls that don't know him.

Another thing in this message, in the timing of the Rapture being right after nuclear war on our soil that caught my attention, is that there will be a tremendous amount of grieving and repentance that will take place amongst the Christians in this country and in the world. A tremendous amount of looking at their lives and repenting.

And I think this is probably going to be the finishing touch on the Bride's garment - the things that have just been hanging there, and hanging and hanging for so long. And the enormity of the situation things are going to just fall right off, just gonna be blasted right off of the garment because the real priorities of life - loving God, loving our neighbor, eternity and the last things - these are going to come up and they're going to be very strongly in our minds at this time. And I believe that that's going to be one of the forces that will help to prepare the Bride.

I still think there's great possibility in this message and great merit that He's coming for His Bride in a time of unbelievable turmoil and agony in society.

Later on in this vision He continues:

"Tell them for Me, those who are destined for the sword, if you are caught in the midst of these events and are innocent of the sins of this culture, are repentant and reformed in Me, you will wear a martyr's crown and great glory will be yours in Heaven, because you survived with your soul intact, and remained faithful to Me in a wanton, reckless ungodly, generation. You have suffered for your faith, everything from ridicule to exclusion. I have been present with you each time you suffered reproach for My Name's sake and your recompense is on the way.

"Understand that once this time of unparalleled suffering begins, the living will envy the dead. For at that time, there will be great Tribulation such has not been since the beginning of the world until now nor ever will there be. There's great Joy awaiting you and your reception into Heaven will be the occasion of feasting and merriment. Your time of exile is almost at an end."

So, several years ago, (going into the message that He gave me) several years ago I was on a mission trip in South America and I beheld the vault of the deep blue sky as if from a space shuttle. The Earth was clearly before me and there were missiles being launched from one continent to another. They seemed to originate in the Middle East and land in America. When they hit, smoky gray clouds hovered over the area and spontaneously something like fourth of July fireworks shot up into the heavens all the way to the Throne of God. The fireworks ascending to the Throne of God were the souls of the just.

I heard this: "Do not fear death, O righteous inhabitants of the Earth."

Then the Lord began to speak. "See, I will bring devastation on this Earth, not by My design but by your own, O wicked men among mankind. You who have perverted the truth and robbed the poor: you, too, shall lament and wail; for what you have engineered to destroy others shall be your own undoing.

"Truly it is written of you: "Those who have dug the pit shall be the ones who fall into it. And those who set the snare shall themselves be caught in it." Proverbs 26:27

"Woe, Woe, Woe to you wicked amongst mankind. For the hour of your great undoing is upon you, but my righteous shall shine like the stars in the firmament. Fear not the hour of your death, for that day you shall be with Me in Paradise, and inherit your eternal reward - for to you I have given a crown of Victory."

"For those who have had a hand in planning the demise of the poor and helpless of the world, while making arrangements to save themselves, it is written:

Isaiah 28:15-18 Because you say, "We have made a covenant with death, and with the nether world are we have made a pact; when the overwhelming scourge passes, it will not reach to us; for we have made lies our refuge, and in falsehood we have found a hiding place." 16 therefore thus says the Lord God, "See, I am laying a stone in Zion, a stone that has been tested, a precious corner-stone as a sure foundation: he who puts his faith in it shall not be shaken.17 I will make a right measuring line of justice: a level. Hail shall sweep away the refuge of lies, waters shall flood the hiding-place.18 Your covenant with death shall be cancelled, and your pact with the netherworld shall not stand; when the overwhelming scourge passes, you shall be trampled down by it."

And that was the end of His message.

So, it's an encouragement to believers and a warning to those who've planned all these things. Without going into the details, it's all over the Internet - the kind of intrigue and plots and planning that have happened in order to prepare us for this time, prepare themselves for this time and to wipe out and annihilate so much of America and so much of the world population.

But the Lord shall take those who are righteous and they mount up into Heaven like stars ascending to the Throne.

[buryam-soul]

oh god this turned out long. under read more i guess. warning: pretty unstructured.

When I say AU here, i mean 'a shambling mess of ideas', not a proper story. It all started because of cytham week last year, actually. There was a free day so I thought "I love cytham, i love magical girls, let's smush them together"! The thing ended up being one of my favorite drawings ever, it holds a special place in my heart.

While I was working on it, the AU had already began to expand in my head. Based on precure tropes, I thought Nahida would be a good "fairy/mascot turned magical girl" and Wanderer could be a nice classic "enemy turned good". Nahida was going to be in the cytham week piece, but I couldn't settle on a good composition, sadly.

Turned out to be a good thing though because I decided against the initial idea of her being a Ha-chan esque tiny fairy. Now I want her to be an aranara (Aranahida....) who gets a humanoid form mid-season!

Also, having the quartet as a team sort of worked out because I already gave Cyno and Alhaitham a wing/feather motif -- partially because hiropre was on the mind, but I didn't pull it entirely out of my ass. Alhaitham is obvious (eagle/falcon motif in his name, constellation, cape, etc.), but Cyno has the wings on his headdress and the feather in his character demo. The feather is of course an Anubis association (weighing hearts against ma'at, usually depicted as a feather), but the headdress wings are likely a Hermes thing (winged helmet), since Cyno's spirit is explicitly named Hermanubis.

So me picking Nahida and Wanderer to round out the team fits in pretty well! Nahida has her caged bird theming, her whole thing with that Dusk bird during Act 2, and her playing with projections idle. Wanderer aside from being able to fly has that bird in his character demo; Nahida watching over him, or an "inheritance" from Ei and Miko's idles? Either way, he also slots into the wing theme nicely.

It also fits because they're all the Akademiya bigshots gang, at least in canon. I think this AU will age them down into students (because the designs I do have are close to their canon designs, so it'd be good to have some visual distinction between magical and civilian identities). Nahida and Wanderer have more leeway tho as explicit non humans.

Also. Cyno and Alhaitham have a duo attack early on and in true precure fashion it will be giant beam while holding hands. Aranahida will be involved and of course always says "everyone hold hands! :)" at the start.

And eventually, I decided a few other Sumeru characters might be fun to rope in too, though they're all still very very rough ideas. Started with a 5 star = magical girl, 4 star = fairy/support distinction, but I might bend it around.

Dehya - cool senior magical girl who probably intervenes when cytham have their inevitable Fight Episode

Candace - some type of non-mg fighter/support (ala prince kanata or rosemary), works with Dehya

Tighnari - magical boy primarily dealing with purifying the Withering

Collei - Tighnari's serval fairy and apprentice

Kaveh - one of those types of fairies that don't do anything (can't decide if lion or birb....). he's just. there

Nilou - performer magical girl? i should probably watch smth from the idol mg subgenre before i fully know her deal, but basically she can fight but it isn't her focus

Oh wow this one got away from me. I guess before leaving I'll add on one tiny thought I have regarding the core characters in this AU. You could probably see Cyno and Nahida's justice and kindness and mercy fitting the genre; you could see redemption is a reocurring motif and so Wanderer fits in solidly. What about Alhaitham?

Well. Alhaitham's "I'll do this grandiose god-saving operation because I want to keep my job and peaceful life" mentality feels like close cousins with magical girls having mundane concerns (want to hang out with friends, dinner with family, chocolate on sale today) motivating them to fight and save the world; it's probably one reason why I like that aspect of him so much. In a genre that's about balancing the mundane and the magical, he fits right in!

it is insane about own au hours. what if i ramble about sumeru magical girl au...? i keep wanting to draw them but im struggling with the designs....

[filipinoizukuu]

hello mr simp do you have any thoughts on the leeks 👀

FIRST OF ALL. THEY CAME SO FUCKING EARLY??? BRO I WAS ASLEEP

SECOND OF ALL

holy SHIT YALL

Okay, it's no secret that I'm an All Might stan. I LOVE All Might. Very very much. Not just as a simp, but genuinely, I enjoy his character SO MUCH.

--And unlike what some people may think, I'm not totally blind to his flaws. I know he sucks as a mentor and that he's done way more harm to Deku than good. He's.... not perfect. in every sense of the word. The whole point of AM's character is that he is a DEEPLY FLAWED individual— but at the end of the day, still good.

This new chapter gave me SOOO many new feelings. I'm not gonna lie to y'all and say I was a Stain apologist beforehand because I wasn't. I disliked Stain to a certain degree, but I also knew he was morally grey enough that I was able to still quite appreciate him as a character. This chapter was about EVERYTHING to me because I honestly did NOT expect Hori to go in this direction and for things to happen the way they did. It was too good to be true! Too fanfic-y! The disbelief I felt when I read what happened was on par with when Bakugou and Deku had that apology and kinda-hug in the rain!

But this disbelief is not because it was a bad thing.

I think the writing in Chapter 326 is phenomenal. The moment that All Might was really beginning to lose hope in not just himself as a hero, but himself as a PERSON... we finally hear the opinion of someone who would abso-fucking-LUTELY make or break the last of his spirit.

Stain is, as much as his views are pretty agreeable and his label is that of a vigilante, still a pretty shitty guy. He's tried to kill literal kids who got in his way, even if said kids made pretty dumb decisions. AM hearing what he has to say is absolutely mind-boggling to him because he knows all of that. He knows Stain is a shitty person and that his worldview is perhaps terribly skewed. He knows Stain has spent a hot minute frying his brains down in Tartarus and isn't good at making judgment calls. Knows that for all intents and purposes, Stain's opinions are not to be trusted.

But the thing is... Toshinori also knows that Stain, regardless of the soundness of his mind, is telling the truth.

Regardless of how fucked-in-the-head Stain is, we as readers are able to acknowledge that he isn't blinded by hero worship. Sure, he's bitter, cynical, and quite the absolutist--but Stain is still clear-headed enough to be able to see AM's flaws for what they are and accept them, ultimately proving to Toshinori that the power of All Might was never his own but rather the legacy that he inspired.

The society MHA takes place in is flawed. We all know this. Heroes, as a concept, had been corrupted into being purely about good and evil. Purely winning fights for money or fame or the abstract concept of victory (coughs Endeavor and the no.1 spot coughs), making heroism as we know it about flashiness and power instead of mercy and the desire to help others.

All Might symbolizes the ideal version of the Hero Society. He represents doing the best you can. Being a hero until you reach your limits, and then going even past that. He symbolizes pure intention and the desire to be a hero not for material gains but because of the pure want to make society a better and safer place. Stain refers to Kamino Ward and the statue as a "holy land" because he believes that through and through, AM's only had the purest of intentions and morals. To him, Toshinori was like a deity that had no fault in making society what it was in the present because that accountability fell on the generations of heroes that failed to fulfill his legacy.

The point being, Stain understood that All Might was fundamentally not about 'being there' for everyone 24/7, but rather the message his presence had sent.

All Might's monologue at the beginning of the chapter essentially boiled down to the ideas that:

A. He regrets not being there properly for Deku

B. His image was a delusion that ultimately led to the downfall of hero society.

To break this down, his problem with Deku is his inability to be a competent mentor. It shows that he has led him down dangerous and horrible paths (Deku's stubbornness to do things by himself and his 'dark' arc post-war), and is unable to bring him back into the light even if he tries. It was only when Class 1-A had intervened that they were able to get Deku to rest and let people tag along, after all, which is why Toshinori was far too embarrassed to follow him into UA's walls even after everyone had come out with umbrellas.

Stain disproves this in two ways.

First, he says that it was never about All Might's ability to actually be there for people. The whole point of what inspired Deku to be the inherently good-hearted "true hero" he is today is because of the values that AM's brand had instilled in him as a child. AM's biggest positive impacts came from behind the screen where he was used as the proof that true heroes can and do exist. Deku does want to be exactly like All Might, yes, which is why we see Toshinori leading him down the same path that he walked--but the underlying message of this is that the very first thing All Might gave him even before OfA was the courage to help fix society.

I do believe Deku is an innately compassionate person. Most people in the series are. However, what makes All Might's smile so uniquely impactful to what it did to Hero Society is the way it gave people courage to help people. Less hesitation. Less bystander syndromes. The ability to move without thinking. Because you can feel the want to help a person, but the courage to be nosey and actually do it? That's portrayed as something AM's image teaches people.

The second way he disproves AM's insecurity of dragging Deku down is that he makes it clear that this pain is somewhat of a necessity in reforming society. He says, interestingly enough, that this is but the 'middle process' in reforming society. This spills over to how he addresses Problem B, but what Stain is essentially saying here is that this sort of brutality and isolation that Izuku faces is impermanent. A phase. It implies that even if Deku is struggling and Toshinori is unable to help him, it is something that needs to happen before they re-realize the ideal heroes All Might's image is meant to create.

The second problem in regards to how All Might feels about current society (how it's collapsing because of him, etc. etc.) is more interestingly addressed. There are many things that Stain says--like how Toshinori doesn't need to actually be the one to fix society with his bare hands. The current society is not his fault because of the fact that it is not finished developing. I'm not sure if I can go so far as to say that Stain means this in the sense of the Scorched Earth method of tearing everything down to build it back up better-- but I can say that Stain still has faith in society to rebuild after this period of chaos.

This rebuilding starts with the old generation of heroes correcting what they messed up (i.e. Endeavor v Dabi) and more importantly, paving the way for a better generation of heroes that was inspired by All Might's image. Heroes that are led by people like Deku, who is defined by his proclivity to help without thinking. The violent deconstruction of society is about exposing society to the raw truth of All Might's image that not everybody can be as strong as him-- which is why we have to take care of each other.

When the lady comes in to remove the sign and start cleaning the statue, it's symbolic. It's a clear metaphor that the past few chapters are the turning point for society as a whole, and how people are starting to remember what real heroism is. From the distrust that was seeded in society ever since LoV had surfaced, we are seeing that trust being returned TEN-FOLD now that people can see not only the mask of a hero's smile, but also the person underneath.

I think it's some really neat symbolism here too about how Deku, who's metal mouth guard was literally all about representing All Might's smile, is shed.

This is hero society dropping their masks. Letting people see them for as they are. Toshinori revisiting the statue in this form makes all the more impact because he shed his mask ages ago during the Kamino Bust, so this is him coming face to face with the image he's created and seeing the differences between them, and how his image continues to live on even after he's almost completely Quirkless. The lady cleaning the All Might statue shows off the fact that things can be repaired again--that society can be clean (hehe stain pun) again.

It's interesting to me here how Stain offers the information from Tartarus.

He doesn't care anymore about his life. It's evident. He disagrees with what the LoV is doing, but believes enough in Deku to think that it's time for him to retire the mantle of 'Stain'. Unless this is another test, it's very odd for me to hear that Stain is offering a blade and his life to someone he isn't even sure is All Might.

But the impact of this action reads loud and clear.

This is Stain taking pity on All Might. This is him realizing that All Might too is a person behind the hero. That Toshinori Yagi is incapable of doing anything past the image he had already created. By offering that knife and information on Tartarus, Stain is giving control back to Toshinori. He is giving AM the chance to do something big again to help society's reconstruction. To be a part of the revolution that he so badly deserves to see. That knife is essentially an exit ticket from the sidelines, and one last chance for All Might to be able to see what his image has done for people.

I personally think that the main reason Stain is willing to die then and there by Toshinori's hand, despite not being sure that he is All Might to begin with, is because of the final impact it creates that it isn't about Toshinori Yagi's true power as a person, but the image of All Might. It is because he looks like the symbol of peace, that Stain (the literal HERO KILLER) feels comfortable laying his life in his hands and giving away valuable information.

If that isn't a great testament to the power of AM's image, I don't know WHAT is.

I guess all I have to say is I absolutely love what Stain did in this chapter. Everything felt so incredibly symbolic and emotional and as someone who absolutely ADORES All Might and what he stands for in the story, this felt like a cool balm after seeing Deku tragically reject his bento box a good few chapters ago. I have a few more opinions about symbolism, and how I think Deku's generation of heroes is going to stray from the old gen, but I think that's a discussion for another time.

Thanks for reading 'til the end!

[loyaltykask]

Okay but I can't stop thinking about these 5 non-canon kids in JTTW "sequel" I just might an AU where he keeps them himself after the JTTW, don't know how the timeline would work but just don't think about it too hard

Like he LITERALLY ACCIDENTALLY KNOCKS UP IRON FAN is like 5 levels of funny to me when it shouldn't be.

Can you imagine that conversation:

Iron Fan at Wukong’s door: Pay your fucking child support Wukong just getting back from promoting to Buddha status: Woah, first all we never did the horizontal tango, and two, I don't even have the equipment  for that to happen Iron Fan: You jumped my stomach so hard that I have quintuplets now Wukong who was born from stone: .... THAT IS NOT HOW THAT WORKS ..... (is it?) ((IS IT?))

I like to think Iron Fan treated it as more of a surrogate mom thing rather than Wukong and her having anything romantic (She's my sister! I would never!) Iron Fan and Bull Demon King get monthly visits to Red Son as long as they stay "good" while he's under GuanYin's teaching and he gets to hear about his new half-siblings... that's a conversation GuanYin had to intervene "Skinning a monkey alive is not 'merciful'"

 And just like.... the quintuplets themselves..... just the havoc I'm going to go out on a limb here and say that the only named son is the firstborn (cause it always is) and keep that this Wukong is like JTTW 1996 Wukong so super into Buddhism so, of course, he names the first son Pāramitā after the six transcendent perfections that are generosity, discipline, patience, diligence, meditation, and wisdom

AND HE NAMES THE OTHER 4 THE EXTRA FOUR PERFECTIONS (cause he's a nerd)

The second born is Upāya for skillful means

Third is Praṇidhāna for determination, this related to the Bodhisattva vows

Fourth is Bala for spiritual power

And youngest is Jñāna for knowledge

And now he's a single father of five children

Bajie gets his revenge for the Birthing-River Situation and harps on Wukong for being "loose." After several well placed hits with a staff Bajie admits the kids are cute and proceeds to spoil his new nephews/nieces

Wujing is a crier in this one and insists on staying around to help protect them. Despite Wukong living in a literal fortress in a Mountain, inhabited by immortal fighting monkeys and escorted by his generals and marshals.

But it's Wujing so of course he's always holding one of the Quintuplets at all times

Wujing crying holding monkeys like the drunk girls from youtube: I can't protect them all

Tripitaka also ascended to Buddha-hood but you cannot convince me that man isn't going to try to hold all five of them but they keep trying to slap his bald head cause that's what babies do

Wukong: Don't hit your grandmaster! Tripitaka: It's fine Wukong, it doesn't hurt Wukong: ...(I wanted to slap the head)... Tripitaka: What was that? Wukong: Nothing, Sifu!

Bai Long Ma insists that they have to have a royal celebration because they are now Royal Monkey Heirs. Wukong takes this as just a huge party but what Bai Long really meant was to have other people come "pay their respects" to the new royalty.

Wukong ain't about that life but he does like free stuff so it becomes a mix of both where he invites everyone in Heaven to come to pay his kids respect (except the Queen Mother as revenge for not being invited to HER peach festival cause he petty like that)

 It turns out to be a full blown rager in the Mountain considering he invented all of Heaven and the local 72 Demon Kings so considering it the first cultural exchange... with lots of drinking

Our five heroes are of course good monks and don't drink and while the party rages the rest of the night Wukong slips away early on (leaving a clone) to put his babies to sleep where it's nice and quiet.

[findingjoynweirdstuff]

Hey, i kinda wanna explore the full scope? Of fundys character esp during season 1? So i was gonna ask for some Fundy vod recommendations to really understand him. Thank you!

Sure! Sorry this one took me a while to answer. I wanted to give a properly fleshed-out list

I'll just sort of give the whole list of streams that include character lore with a brief description of what happens. Not every one of these is the most important stuff, but figured it might be nice to just make a full reference post so that you can decide for yourself which ones to watch.

---

Fundy Lore VODs List: Season One (+ a bit of Season Two)

---

First up: The L'manburg War.

-

July 30: Dream SMP - joining a revolution

At this point Fundy had been on the server for a few weeks and he had already gotten involved in the hot dog drug van scheme before, but here's where his character lore starts getting fleshed out. This is where he first becomes Wilbur's son.

-

July 31: $1000 minecraft wipeout event

Towards the end of this stream is where Fundy attempts to convince George to betray Dream in the war and join L'manburg.

-

August 2: Dream SMP - THE GREAT WAR!!!!!!

Fundy's POV of the L'manburg War.

-

August 4: Dream SMP - I hurt my mouth so I can't talk a lot

This is the stream where Fundy shrinks Eret's tower. When Tommy and Jack come talk to him, Fundy comes up with some lore about his mother for the first time: "Sally," the accountant salmon who raised him.

-

After this, it's mostly a period of fun pranks and more casual hijinks. The next big thing for Fundy's character is the Pet War.

-

August 28: DREAM SMP - TIME FOR CHAOS

Fundy finds out about Fungi's death and takes his revenge on Sapnap with Niki's help.

-

August 30: SAPNAP MUST PAY - Dream SMP

This stream is mostly chill up until towards the end where Fundy plays his bee game with Punz. Tommy, Tubbo and Quackity come to back him up at the tower.

-

August 31: NO MERCY - Dream SMP

Fundy and Niki find Sapnap and Dream's hidden pets and create an obsidian chamber to house Beelloon. Towards the end, there's a confrontation between Fundy and Sapnap.

-

September 2: PREPARING FOR BATTLE - Dream SMP

This is the L'manburg civil war stream where there's a brief conflict between Fundy and Tubbo, and Tommy diffuses it before it escalates. This is the event that Wilbur references when he describes how he needs to consolidate power with an election.

-

September 8: unboxing, then becoming president! - Dream SMP

Fundy's POV of the King's Court Election Debate stream.

-

September 9: ENDING THE WAR - Dream SMP

The final duel in the arena between Sapnap and Fundy, refereed by Tubbo, to end the Pet War.

-

With the Pet War over, the focus turns to the Election.

-

September 14: ruining the Dream SMP

After Tommy ridicules Fundy in an attempt to secure Sapnap's vote, Fundy suspects Tommy might be trying to destroy L'manburg. He, along with Niki, join forces and come up with a name for their new campaign: COCONUT2020.

-

Fundy didn't stream his POV of Schlatt's inauguration, but you probably already know what happened next...

-

September 22: ELECTION RESULTS DAY!!! DREAM TEAM SMP!!!

(From Eret's POV) Fundy burns the flag of L'manburg, declaring it a new era.

From here on out, it's the Schlatt Administration.

-

September 23: DREAM SMP - A New Era...

Fundy begins to work under Schlatt in Manberg, building a new purple flag. Niki and Tommy intervene. While talking with Schlatt, Fundy rejects Wilbur as his father.

Fundy begins to write a new book documenting his experiences under the new administration: A Spy's Diary.

-

September 25: DREAM SMP THE OBSIDIAN FLAG

Following the previous incident, Fundy replaces the purple version of the Manberg flag with a new one built out of obsidian. Fundy begins to question his allegiances in his diary.

After Schlatt spots him writing, he pulls Fundy aside for a talk...

-

The next VODs are more casual work in Manberg. Fundy starts building a hidden underground bunker that uses a key in a certain spot to open with redstone. He gets Iskall to help.

-

October 7: Dream SMP THE NEW MANBERG

The legendary Dreamon Hunter stream.

-

October 14: DREAM SMP - THE DREAMON HIDEOUT

The second Dreamon Hunter stream.

At the beginning, Fundy admires his work on the Festival decorations and gives a short speech about progress in the country, asking what Tommy and Wilbur ever really did for them.

Tubbo and Fundy later recruit Sapnap into their ranks. Fundy tells BadBoyHalo about these "Dreamons" and gets him to begin digging out a certain large, underground room to be used as the headquarters for the operation.

-

October 16: DREAM SMP - THE FESTIVAL

Fundy's POV of the Manberg Festival. Chaos ensues, and Fundy learns that the person he hunted Dreamons with was a traitor after all...

-

November 3rd: Dream SMP - PRANK MARATHON

That's an awful lot of buttons.

-

November 6: [DreamSMP] The Meeting

(From Wilbur's POV) After the meeting with Schlatt goes wrong, everyone gathers in Pogtopia. Fundy arrives, revealing his change of sides to his father.

-

November 16: Dream SMP - THE FINAL WAR

Fundy fights in the final war against Schlatt.

---

That's it for Season One, but the aftermath of the explosion in early Season Two is a hugely important arc for Fundy's character as well, so I'll include a few of those here too.

---

November 17: Dream SMP - THE GREAT REBUILDING

With the first appearance of Ghostbur, Fundy helps the New L'manburg cabinet begin to rebuild. He talks about how he feels about Wilbur's death.

-

November 22: Dream SMP - REVENGE

Fundy has a conversation with Jack Manifold about Ghostbur, who has started to follow him around while invisible. He continues to work through his feelings.

-

November 23: POWER AND DOMINANCE (and vibing) on the Dream SMP (!newvid)

(From Eret's POV) While working on the museum, Eret asks Fundy if he would like to be adopted...

-

November 24: Amangus with new and old friends and Minecraft

(From Wilbur's POV) Ghostbur gets Fundy's gear and returns it as a kind gesture. Fundy breaks the news to him about the adoption.

-

November 27: Dream SMP - BEING ADOPTED

The climax of Fundy's initial arc with Ghostbur. After Eret doesn't show up for the adoption, Fundy goes fishing with Phil only to get into an argument with Ghostbur about avoiding responsibility.

---

And that's it! There's plenty more to say about Season Two, but that first arc is the most important.

Hope this helped! Happy watching!

[madefate]

There are some things I think we should talk about.

And Blitz feels like the world has disappeared beneath his feet, leaving him hovering over a deep, dark freefall.

They were - they were okay, weren't they this morning? Had he missed something - some sign, some indication that there was something Stolas wasn't telling him? Fuck - he's frozen in place, doesn't realize how much his heartrate has picked up and the blood is rushing in his ears, but he vaguely feels himself put the chest down next to the bed, between them.

His eyes are fixed on Stolas' face, taking in the drawn expression, the exhaustion in his eyes, the concern - the seriousness. Blitz's tail lashes nervously behind himself, flickering down its entire length, the tip slicing back and forth. There are some things I think we should talk about.

Fuck - why does he need to be nice about it ? There's something about it that cuts deep, instantly and without mercy, the way it doesn't when the words are sharper or accompanied by a slap upside the head or someone grabbing his collar to bring him in closer. Because Blitz knows what that means - Blitz instantly knows what that means because he has to instantly know what that means. Because if he doesn't then that leaves him to Satan knows what but it's going to fucking hurt -

I'm here, Blitz; I'm right here. I'm not leaving you, I promise.

The words come back to him in a single, brilliant flash - Blitz can almost smell the sting of antiseptic from the hospital room, taste the ashes on his tongue from the flashback. Without meaning to, Blitz leans forward just a little, sliding his right leg back a hair to strengthen his stance. He stopped being conscious of bracing himself eons ago - probably when he'd just reached double digits. His chest tightens and his arms are rigid.

What the fuck could he have done in the intervening weeks so horrific that Stolas would break that promise ?

He hasn't caught Striker yet; is the constant threat hanging over his head - threatening him and Octavia too much for him? Too much to keep the reminder around in the form of Blitz himself? - Had he hurt Octavia somehow ? His last conversation with her had been about some questions about the office and what she was studying - had he crossed some boundary ?

Or was it just - him? The common denominator here is, of course, himself. Here all the time, taking over Stolas' kitchen, half moving into his bedroom, hovering over him - fuck, was that it? He doesn't realize his hands have started to tremble as he struggles to take a single, full breath.

❝ Stolas - ❞ His voice catches a little and Blitz hates himself for the emotion that slices through it. He raises one hand, tries to find a grin - has no idea what his face is doing.

❝ - Whatever it is, we can fix it, I swear - whatever you need, I can do it. If you need more space, or less, if you need - I can take care of it, okay? If it's Striker, I've got it covered ! I'm on it, I swear, this was just a - ❞ He shakily gestures at the box between them. ❝ - We just finished early today, but I'm still working on it. ❞

He sees the chains in his dreams, still - it's just that now they feature in more than just nightmares. Blitz almost deliriously grabs for the gold around his neck, even knowing that it's merely the product of his own fucked up issues and some human drugs. Imagined.

Is it breaking, though?

Blitz scoots around the box, leaning in towards Stolas, grinning because the show must go on no matter what, desperately trying to calm his breathing before Cash - no, shut the fuck up Buckzo, you know where you are.

❝ Whatever it is, I'll do it - okay? ❞

So much had already happened today that, for a moment, Stolas thinks that he should just put this off, do it another day. But he'd been doing that for far too long already; he owed it to Blitz to make sure he had the agency he needed. Yes, they had talked, but there was still the tether of his grimoire between them, and they needed to address that.

With everything that had happened over the past few weeks, it should hopefully be an easy discussion, right? They'd kind of bared their souls to one another in the van on the way to the hospital, and then in the hospital itself. He hadn't been on enough pain medication that he didn't remember that; it was very clear in his mind.

He was still apprehensive about the whole thing; it was a big thing, moving from an established pattern, taking away the safety net that allowed him a routine excuse to be close to Blitz. They were heading into unknown territory, and for Stolas, completely uncharted, as well. The only other person he'd been with had been Stella, and that hadn't been any sort of actual relationship. Their marriage had been arranged, they had provided an heir, and beyond that had hated one another. In Stolas' case, he had left the marriage in pieces he was only just starting to pick up, to put back together. There were almost certainly ramifications he hadn't yet come across; he just hoped that, now that he was away from her, he would be able to start over, to have another chance at the live he hadn't been living.

Almost as though thinking about her at all had alerted her to the fact that Stolas was doing better, Stella had stopped by the palace that afternoon, using the fact that their divorce hadn't gone through as an excuse, shouting that the palace was still partly hers, at least until things were finalized. She had rampaged through the halls, the way she'd done so often, shouting at anyone who came near her, knocking down several of Stolas' plants in her fury. It was only when Stolas threatened to have her physically removed that she had tossed her feathers and told him that his 'days are numbered,' her tone as smug as ever, that she'd finally left.

Normally, Stella's threats were empty, idle words, but considering the fact that she had Striker on her payroll, Stolas knew that those words actually meant something. He did his best not to react, but he couldn't help the little chill that went down his spine. He's well aware that Striker would have succeeded if it hadn't been for Blitz, and for Stella to remind of him of that in person means he can't let his guard down.

There's too much going on to think too much about that, though he'll have to remember to tell Blitz what had happened, since he was already looking for Striker. That might help, at least a little; if he was still in contact with Stella, it gave them a starting point, didn't it? Though he supposes that they already knew he was working for her, which doesn't give them anything new.

He can feel Stella's words getting to him, can feel his feathers raising, trying to help defend him against a threat that's no longer present, and he does his best to take a deep breath, to calm himself down. Which is the point at which he realizes he didn't take his meds this morning, dutifully making the trek to the bathroom to make sure he takes them. He's trying to take better care of himself, and that includes being better about taking his meds regularly.

But when he reaches for the little bottle, when it doesn't make any sound, he takes off the cap to reveal that he's out of pills entirely.

That couldn't be right; he'd had at least a couple of day's worth the last time he'd checked! But then he realizes that that had been at least a week ago. The days had been something of a blur, blending together as he'd mostly spent them working on his recovery.

He takes a deep breath, letting it out slowly, doing his best to control the ways his heart was pounding. This wasn't the first time he'd run out of his meds; he'd be okay. It was just going to be a rough few days until he could pick up his refill.

Which just solidifies his need to talk to Blitz tonight instead of putting it off any longer; he should still be mostly okay tonight, right? The rest of the week would be so much worse, but tonight would be fine!

That's what he'd been telling himself, at least. He just had to focus on what he was planning to do, planning to say, and it will be okay. It had to be okay.

But between Stella's unexpected visit, knowing that he's out of meds (knowing how that affects him, too), and his own self-loathing threatening to overwhelm him again, he only blinks when Blitz makes his way into the bedroom, very clearly in a good mood, a sharp contrast to the cloud that is practically hanging over Stolas.

He blinks, and it takes him a minute to fully process what Blitz is saying, his mind a little foggy, moving slower than usual, thanks to everything. By the time Stolas has caught up with his words, Blitz's grin has shifted, fallen, and Stolas tries for a reassuring smile of his own.

It likely comes across as more of a grimace, with the way his nerves are frayed at the edges.

"There are some things I think we should talk about," he says, mentally going through his script, through the checklist he'd put together. Because once they got those out of the way, everything would be better! They've been doing better at talking, so this would hopefully just be more of that, would make sure they were on the same page. He just hopes he's found the right words.

[thisisarcanereverie]

What it Means to be Worthy (Thor x Reader)

ULTIMATE MASTERLIST

THERE IS SMUT IN HERE 18+ YOU THIRSTY SONS OF BITCHES.

WARNINGS: unprotected sex (wrap it up pals) Do NOT read unless you are 18+. 

Also I have never written smut before so I hope it’s ok. I honestly couldn’t have written it if I hadn’t been listening to Deity by Valeree (highly recommend listening while reading the smut. It will probably make it better.) 

“Thor,” you called the God of Thunder, “Thor it’s (Y/n).”

You heard a small grunt coming from the living room as you entered through the front door. You immediately went to cover your nose from the stench that invaded your senses upon entering. 

It seemed as though the whole house smelled of rotten food, sweat, and something akin to a pigs feces. It was a smell that you never quite got used to, even after 2 years of smelling it every day. 

You quietly made your way through the house until you saw a sight you were quite used to seeing now. 

Thor on the ground, shirtless, covered in sweat and grime. His beard was filthy from vomit and dandruff and his hair greasy and matted to his head. 

There had been a time where he cared so much about his hair that he got triggered if you had tried to trim it. 

After 2 years of seeing this scene before you, it failed to surprise you. 

Now it just angered you. 

You knew you couldn’t understand the pain he was in, he lost his entire family, half his people, and Asgard. 

Sure, the people of Midgard were generous and gave your people sanctuary, a place for your people to call home once again. 

But that didn’t stop you from missing Asgard’s golden palace and it’s mountains of lush green forests. How you missed running with Thor and Loki through those forests after dark to get to the highest peak you could to watch the glittering of the gold during sunrise. 

You had been playmates with the Princes since infancy. You had trained and fought alongside them in battle, joined them in celebrations after each conquest, mourned the loss of Frigga with them. 

You went with Thor all those years ago to retrieve Loki and joined the Avengers with him. 

But now the Avengers were gone, long since disbanded before the battle of Wakanda. 

You weren’t angry at him, your anger was towards the cruel fate that had befallen your precious friends. You had cared for Loki, almost as much as Thor if not equal to. 

If you were honest, you weren’t in better shape. Your grief had taken hold of you as well. Your kind smile had turned cynical. Anyone who tried to get close to you often was met with your icy glare and scoff. 

Thor was the only one who brought out the caring person you once were. 

With a deep sigh you expertly walked around the empty booze bottles and to the grieving man before you. Thor may have gotten soft around the middle but he weighed about the same as you slumped his arms around your shoulders. Thor groaned and went pale, his eyes barely opening. 

“C’mon blondie,” you softly spoke, “let’s get you washed up.”

You half dragged the god to the bathroom, he threw up halfway there but you paid no mind. You would clean that after getting him in the shower. 

You didn’t bother stripping him before setting him in the tub. Without warning or mercy you pointed the shower hose directly at his face and turned the water to icy cold. 

Thor yelled at the icy feeling, borderline pleading, for you to turn off the water. However, over the course of 2 years the patience you had for him had worn thin and so you continued to spray until the stench subsided a little. 

Thor was fully awake and sober now, seeing your figure as clear as day tower over him in the tub with a look on your face akin to a mother scolding a misbehaving child. 

Thor felt so small and powerless under your gaze and he loathed it. 

“You could have stopped a while ago.”

“This needs to stop Thor.” 

Your hands motioned to him, Thor once admired those hands and the strength that they had. Now he just found them annoying. 

He found you annoying. 

You came by everyday and pulled him out of his stupor, clean up after him a little, and try to clean him up. You treated him like a child who couldn’t take care of himself and he loathed it so. 

“I am King of Asgard you do not get to tell me what to do.”

“What King would wallow himself in such a way.”

He bolted upright and stood in the tub, successfully towering over your frame, you had gone too far. You didn’t get to say such things to him. 

What Thor didn’t count on was the world getting fuzzy and a little dark when he stood up, so although he towered over you he was as stable as a wind chime. 

You held onto his frame to prevent him from falling flat onto his face. You felt Thor stiffen under your touch. 

You knew Thor was now sensitive and insecure in areas he never was before. 

It seemed like yesterday that he was admiring himself in one of Asgard’s golden mirrors, his long hair had looked like spun gold in Asgard’s sunlight and his figure was that befitting of a god. 

But none of that had ever mattered to you, even when Thor became full of himself to the point of him being ill tempered and arrogant, you couldn’t find it in yourself to ever give up on him. 

Not that you tried to give up on him anyways.

Loki had asked you one day why you didn’t. Why didn’t you give up on the golden prince when he clearly would never feel the same way. 

“I love him too much to be without him. Even if that means watching him parade himself around as a peacock and watch women fly to him like bees to honey.” 

Then Thor was banished and the only reason why you didn’t follow was due to Loki’s intervening. 

Then Thor met Jane Foster. 

The memory of the beautiful scientist brought back bittersweet memories. You had never seen Thor so deep in love, and that made you both sad and happy. 

Happy that he finally found someone who could keep him humble and who he loved just as much as you loved him. 

Sad that when you often caught Thor daydreaming, that it wasn’t you he was daydreaming about. 

You shook yourself out of your thoughts and sat the giant on the edge of the tub while you went to gather fresh clothes for him. 

You gathered a simple sweatshirt and pants for him to pull on once he was finished with his shower. 

As you set the clothes beside the sink you couldn’t help but feel the gnawing feeling in the deepest parts of your heart and the nagging thoughts in your head. 

You knew that Thor was hellbent on this self destructive path and you knew that there was nothing you could possibly do to prevent it. 

It was either you let Thor drown himself in his despair or you let him drown you with it as well. 

You had accepted long ago that Thor would never see you as anything more than what you had always been. 

His playmate since infancy. 

The girl who got a starry look every time he entered a room. 

You had saved up money from the jobs you had worked over the past 2 years, you finally saved up enough to get away from New Asgard. Leave its people to the hands of their self pitying King and Val. 

It wasn’t like they needed you or the other way around. 

No one would notice your absence. 

You began to pick up around Thor’s home, recycling empty liquor bottles and trashing pizza boxes and rotted food. Vacuuming the carpets and dusting here and there. 

This will be the last time you do as such. 

You needed to leave, staying here and wallowing in Thor’s despair and depression as much as your own wasn’t good for you. And you knew deep down you had been enabling him, every time you cleaned his house and washed and fed him you knew that he only got worse and that you were supporting him when you did this. 

You needed to leave for Thor’s sake as much as your own. 

You wondered how long it would take him to notice. 

You couldn’t bring yourself to tell Thor, you doubt he would even care at this point. 

The walk back to your house was only a few minutes, having moved into the house closest to his in case of emergency. 

Most of your things were packed and already in your apartment in New York waiting for you. Well things of value, the rest you had sold online, it was amazing what the internet could do. By far one of the greatest inventions on Midgard in your opinion. 

All that was left to do was, pack a few pieces of clothing and toiletries. 

And write a goodbye letter to Thor explaining where you went and why. 

You had avoided writing it, not wanting to say goodbye. Not wanting Thor to not care. 

It wasn’t like you were completely leaving Thor, Valkyrie (Val as you called her) assured you that she would make sure he didn’t starve or drink himself to an early grave. 

You trusted her to make good on her promise. 

You leaving wasn’t even your idea in the first place, Val had tried to get you to leave a year earlier, but you were too stubborn to leave then. 

You grabbed the piece of stationary and began to write. 

‘Thor, 

By the time you're sober enough to read this I’ll already be gone. I don’t predict that I’ll be back. 

Val will be making sure you don’t starve or drink yourself into an early grave in my place. 

I just can’t do this anymore Thor. 

I had loved you since we were but children running around the palace gardens, I still do. However I accepted the fact that you could never see me as anything more than your old playmate and dear friend so long ago. 

I had tried to be by your side in a supporting role no matter how much it had hurt me. 

When you became an arrogant ass I tried my hardest to explain away your tantrums. 

When you came back from banishment I listened to you swoon over Lady Jane Foster with a smile on my face even though it tore me apart. 

I had stayed with you, took care of you. It took me so long to realize that I had just been enabling you this entire time. 

I had been supporting your self destructive behavior and I refuse to play that part any longer. I need to leave, not just for me but for you. 

You need to sort through your emotions, you need to learn how to handle yourself by yourself. You need me not holding your hand when you do that. 

I need to discover for myself what it means to be worthy-’

A loud pounding at your door disrupted your train of thought as you wrote. Normally no one would bother you, not unless it had to deal with Thor. 

The floorboards creaked as you made your way to your door. The pounding had not ceased until you flew the door open to reveal Thor. 

His hair was still damp from his shower and the sweats you had picked out were already stained from the beer he held in one hand. His sky blue eye was hidden behind dark shades. 

“(Y/n),” Thor said, “I need a thing.”

“Thor right now isn’t a good time.” 

“Don’t worry Lady (Y/n) it won’t take even a second I’ll be in and out.” Thor assured, flashing you a smile that could make your legs go weak. Despite how much hurt you were in you were still no match for Thor’s charms. 

“What thing do you need?”

“Just a thing I’ll know the name of it when I see it.” 

You stepped aside as you let Thor in, hoping that he won’t notice the lack of furniture or the note left on the table. You decided to let him be while you went and finished packing whatever was in the bathroom. After that you went back to the living area where you had left the note only to see Thor sitting on the couch, his fingers clenching the paper tightly. He had taken his shades off, the deep dark circles stood out against his skin a tribute to how tired he truly was. 

He looked up and you were taken aback by the sorrow that filled his eyes. red rimmed the blue eye as fresh tears began to fall. 

“You weren’t supposed to read that yet.” 

“And when was I supposed to read it then?! When you were god knows where you will be!” His voice bellowed as tears continued to fall down his cheek. 

“Thor please don’t yell.” 

“No (Y/n)!” he cut you off, “you,” his finger pointed at you, his gaze as intense as lightning, “you don’t get to leave like this. You don’t get to leave me too.”

“Thor I don’t have a choice,” you argue, “I need to let you go. I need to find who I am without you and you need-”

“DO NOT TELL ME WHAT I NEED!” 

You could hear thunder roaring in the distance outside, lightning danced around his fingers faintly. Thor had never scared you, but right now you were close to it. 

“Thor,” you say calmly hoping somehow your calm tone will calm the God of Thunder, “I’m sorry for choosing the cowards way, I wanted to avoid this.”

“Did you truly think you would be able to avoid me for long.” The lightning had yet to cease but his eyes seemed to stop glowing ever so slightly. 

“I didn’t think you would have noticed for at least a few days.” 

“Why would you think I wouldn’t notice immediately?” He asked like it was the most incredulous question. He took a step closer to you while you took a step back. Thunder still roared outside and lightning still curled around his fingers. Thor furrowed his eyes in confusion until he finally seemed to hear the thunder storm outside and realize he had scared you. 

Thor had scared you. 

Immediately the pain in his chest worsened with the guilt that he had scared you. That he had so little control over his powers when he was so emotional. Slowly he closed his eyes and he took a deep breath in and out. He then felt his powers subside and the thunder had stopped. 

You could see his shoulders hunch forward with shame and you instictivly placed a hand over his shoulder to comfort him. Thor was quick to envelop your hand with his. Holding onto your hand for dear life. 

Your eyes then met, closer than you had ever been before. 

“What thing were you looking for?” you asked softly, “you said you came over for a thing.”

“I lied,” Thor admitted softly, “I just didn’t want to be alone.” 

The next thing you knew was the faint taste of beer and blueberries on your lips and strong, calloused hands making their way to your shoulders. 

Thor was just as good a kisser as you imagined. Lips moving expertly over your own, moving against yours so desperately. Like a man dying of thirst. 

You knew you should push him off of you, but for one second you wanted to enjoy his lips on yours. Kissing you like you had always wanted to kiss him. 

You moved your lips against his, relishing every moment. Because you knew you wouldn’t be able to kiss him again. 

Only when Thor's hands traveled to your waist did you break away. Albeit, you couldn’t push him further than just enough to give you some breathing space. 

“Thor,’ you said, “you’re drunk you don’t want this.” 

‘When will you stop telling me what I want and don’t want.” His lips moved from your lips to the corner of your mouth and slowly made their way to your neck. 

“Thor I do not want this if your reasoning is impaired.”

“I appreciate the thought dear one, but I only had half a beer tonight.” 

Asgardians could handle their booze well, especially Thor. For Thor to be the least bit intoxicated he would have had to drink 3 large bottles of Asgardian booze. However, when it came to Midgard it took 4 large barrows of Midgardian beer for it to have the same effect on him. Thor mostly drank it for the taste.

“Unless you would rather I stop.” Thor said, before his hands had removed themselves from your waist you stopped them. 

With every ounce of passion in you, you grabbed a handful of his long hair and pressed your lips to his. 

It was a mess of passionate and needy kisses and moans. Thor’s battle-worn hands had roamed over your body in a desperate need to feel you. 

He was quick to rid you of your shirt, hands feeling every inch of naked skin as he could. Holding you like you were the only thing keeping him grounded to the earth. 

You moaned as his hands found your breasts, his large hands covering them over your bra. Your hands made quick work with your bra, removing the suffocating fabric before lifting Thor’s shirt. 

you felt him stiffen as you rid him of his shirt. 

He wasn’t as muscular as he had been 2 years ago, however it took more than 2 years to completely diminish what his body had been. Although his stomach had softened as well as his arms. You didn’t care in the slightest, loving Thor in every shape he came in. 

Your hands lovingly brushed over his torso as you began to leave open mouthed kisses down his neck, over his chest, it wasn’t until you were at the waistband on his sweatpants did he bring you back up and kissed you with fiery passion. 

Thor laid you in front of the fireplace that you forgot you lit a while ago. Honestly a little surprised that the fire was still going. 

You didn’t have much time to think about that as you felt Thor’s lips travel  from your neck and over your breasts. Your nails scratched the floor beneath you as you felt him at the waistband of your jeans. 

You felt Thor pause and you looked at him. 

“Are you sure dear one?” 

Your heart melted at the new nickname, as you nodded to him. However that wasn’t enough for the blonde adonis as he traveled up your body and littered your neck in open mouth kisses. 

“I need to hear you say you want this dear one.” 

“Please Thor,” you pleaded as he ground his hips into yours slowly, your hips meeting his as his pace slows even more successfully driving you insane. 

“I need you Thor.”

“What do you need dear one?”

“I need you to finish what we started.” 

With that Thor slammed his lips on yours as he rid you of your pants, underwear included. He leaned back and his eyes drank in your figure illuminated by the fire light. You were breathtaking, any one would buckle at the sight of you. 

Pride swelled in Thor’s heart as this view was reserved for him only. 

Just as you were about to say something you felt Thor’s beard tickle the inside of your thigh and without warning Thor dived in. 

Your hands immediately flew to his hair and grabbed fists full of it, anything to tether you to reality. 

As Thor worked his magic on your bundle of nerves your moans filled the empty house. Thor moaned as your grip on his hair tightened which sent waves of pleasure throughout your body. Thor lifted your legs over his shoulders and gripped your thighs firmly as his tongue worked faster. 

Just as you were about to reach your blissful release you felt him pull away. Your arousal practically dripped from his lips onto his beard. 

He rid himself of the last piece of clothing before capturing your lips once again. Unlike the kisses from before, this was gentle and sweet. You could taste yourself on his lips as he tenderly kissed you. 

You slowly ran your hands over his chest, committing him to memory. 

Thor pulled away from your lips as he entered you. 

Your mouth let out a silent scream of pleasure as Thor let out a shaky breath of pleasure. Thor waited for a few seconds, relishing in the feeling of you around him before finally moving his hips against yours. 

Thor was soft and slow in his thrusts, making sure to worship every part of you. His lips were everywhere, from your face to your breasts. 

You met in time with his thrusts. The only sound in the room being your shaky breaths, moans of pleasure, and skin on skin. And it sounded like a chorus to you. 

Thor’s thrusts became erratic and unyielding, the knot in your stomach was on the verge of bursting when Thor whispered in your ear. 

“Let go dear one, I’ll catch you.”

With that the knot had become undone, leaving your body shaking from the overwhelming pleasure. 

Thor had not been too far behind you before he too reached his climax. 

Thor laid down beside you, still coming down from his high. You laid your head on his chest and he instinctively wrapped his arms around you. 

This was everything you had ever wanted, to lay beside Thor with his arm beside you. Well almost everything. 

As Thor began to play with the ends of your head as you replayed the past two years in your head. 

“I think you may have been right.” Thor broke the silence, you lifted your head off his chest to see his gaze distant as he stared at the ceiling. 

“When have I ever been anything otherwise.”

Thor’s chest rumbled in laughter as unshed tears began to fill his eyes. He refused to cry, not now. 

“I agree that you need to leave dear one.” Thor’s voice cracked, “I have become a pitiful king to my people, but I have been an even worse friend to you.” his eyes left their place on the ceiling and rested on your face. “You have been faithfully by my side ever since either of us could remember. You had defended me when I didn’t deserve it and loved me when no one did. Not even myself.” His calloused hand caressed your cheek, thumb brushing the tears that had escaped your eyes away. “you don’t deserve to drown in my despair with me. You deserve a life of adventure and you deserve the time to figure out who you are.” You pressed your forehead to his as tears leaked out. “I need to let you go.”

---

Thor had spent the night committing every touch and every scent to memory. He had no idea when his feelings for you grew to such lengths but he knew now that he had figured it out much too late. 

He wasn’t the man you deserved by your side. 

Thor waved you off at the airport and watched as the metal contraption took you away from his side for the first time since his banishment all those years ago. 

He hoped that if you returned he would be a man worthy of you again. 

Thor only wished he knew where to start.

[ddarker-dreams]

Icy Wind. Yan Alucard x Reader

Warnings: Isolation and typical yandere elements. Word count: 1.3k. Note: this is my secret santa gift for @monstrouslyobsessed​!! i was excited to see that you liked hellsing ultimate... your taste is immaculate... anyways, i really hope that you enjoy your gift! <333333

You long for a fulfilling night of sleep.

To be able and close your eyes when the moon shines above, uninhibited by troubles, no longer plagued by all-consuming anxiety. It is but a simple request, you believe. There were days where for hours on end you’d bargain for more than that. Freedom used to be the primary objective, what you believed to be your only salvation, a possibility never within reach. No longer do you aim for the stars and beyond. You’ve had to settle for what’s in front of you, a realistic goal such as a good night’s rest, and even then you’re denied it. 

Blades of grass brush against your bare feet, a winter chill reducing your body to a shivering mess. Teeth chattering and body bunched over, your arms wrap around your torso in a pitiful attempt to preserve heat. It makes logical sense to return inside the manor. At least then you could sit by the fireplace to ward off the cold. Whether it’s foolishness or out of malice towards him, you’ve elected to stay out here, holding nothing but contempt for the mansion walls that serve as your prison.

Another gust of wind whistles by, biting your flushed cheeks. Barren tree branches, overgrown thickets, and dry leaves rustle underneath the wind’s intensity. Maybe it would be best to go back inside, you consider. Still, the thought of proving Alucard right is too strong a blow to your pride to concede yet. It’s a childish thing you’re doing -- even you can acknowledge that -- but what else do you have, other than to spite your captor? 

He had instigated this. Tempting you by temporarily removing the locks in the rickety mansion that you’ve been forced to occupy. What had started as a late-night walk to fend off your insomnia escalated into you confronting him, belittling his possessive nature, and demanding a real opportunity at freedom. Much to your surprise and his amusement, he had relented. Or at least on a surface level. Alucard himself had swung the doors wide open, presenting you with an opportunity for time outside. 

Which leads to your current predicament. 

Traversing the surrounding woods at night would be a nightmare, so you’ve been passing this time outside by sitting on a moss-covered bench. The initial high from being outdoors has worn off, replaced with frigid temperatures cutting deep into your bones. You wonder if Alucard would allow you to freeze to death. Or would he intervene at the least possible second, the curse of being his lover never coming to an end. Damn him. 

“So you intend to keep up this stubborn act,” a deep voice drawls, the hairs on the back of your neck standing. “Should I be impressed or insulted?” 

When a person out of sight is speaking, it’s a natural response to search for where they stand. You’ve learned that this rarely works with Alucard. His voice reverberates from every conceivable location, engulfing and drowning you, a testament to his inorganic disposition. 

“Do with it what you will.” Your response doesn’t sound as malicious as you wanted, weakened by your deteriorating state. It looks like your earlier guess of Alucard interfering only when your life is in danger turned out to be true. Even now, when facing an icy demise, you refuse to beg for help. He can go to hell for all I care, you think. If even hell would muster the courage to try and chain him down.

Alucard’s voice hums, a deep, guttural sound. “Was it something I said?” 

Clutching your knees to your chest, you huddle together even tighter for warmth. To narrow Alucard’s grievances against you down to a single statement is impossible. He’s always had a penchant for working you up, now is no different. The wintery weather seems to have gotten worse. Every time you manage to exhale, a white cloud appears in front of your face, a further testament to the extreme temperature. 

“Let’s go with that.” You rub your shaking hands together and blow air onto them.

“Strange, I thought I was doing you a favor,” Alucard’s voice swirls around you like the wind. “You did say that you wanted to go out if memory serves.” 

Really? He’s out here to poke fun at you? It shouldn’t come as a surprise, but the audacity he displays is never short of amazing. Even working up an emotional response like frustration is too much at this point. Your entire body is working overtime to hold onto life. Ah, that’s strange, you think. The way your ears are ringing, an eerie, high pitched noise. Black dots appear and disappear, obscuring your vision. It’s light. Everything feels so, terribly light. 

You’re not sure what happens next. 

When you wake, the setting is vastly different from where you had just been. There’s warmth, that’s the first thing you notice, coming from different sources. Blankets on top of your person and a roaring fireplace. So he brought you back to your room. Groaning, you wince at how your head pounds violently, not having the necessary strength to even lift your head.

“Next time, I’d prefer it if you let me die.” 

There’s no tangible evidence that Alucard is nearby, but you still say the words, uncaring if he hears them or not. 

“It’d be a pitiful death,” comes his response. “Why not ask for a more memorable one?” 

You sigh, knowing that answering the question will lead to more provocative remarks, but still do it anyway. “Are you telling me you’d grant it?” 

“I never said that.” 

“Figures.” 

Exhaustion weighs heavy on your weary soul. Maybe now you’ll be granted the mercy of a good night’s rest, though you try not to get your hopes up. You see Alucard beginning to materialize into a physical form, the sight nothing new, yet you’ve never been able to get used to it. Glimmers of midnight black and deep crimson create a shadow reminiscent of a human man. Flesh forms, filling out over bone, pallid in its coloration. His typical attire of blood-colored fabrics flows into creation around his person before he finally towers over you by your bedside. Inhuman eyes pierce through your weakened form, holding no flickers of humanity. 

A monster. 

“And here I thought you might thank your savior for saving you from an early death,” Alucard’s voice is amused, despite the dark context. “Instead, I find you glaring at me.” 

“For good reason.” You bring the blanket over your head, not wanting to see him any longer, irritation growing. Why can’t he just leave you alone? It’s a question that, when asked, serves only to perturb you further. Alucard claims each time that your little interactions are of great importance to him. Whatever that means, you think. 

“You’re the only human I’ve seen fit to have pity on,” he reminds, making you frown. “Thousands have begged for what you so easily dismiss.” 

Indignant, you pull the blanket down, blood boiling at his inflaming comments. “Like any of that is my fault. What did you expect me to do? Praise you to the high heavens for keeping me far away from any other living being?” 

He’s smiling at your outburst as if it were an entertaining show. It’s too late, but you realize this is exactly what he wanted, to see you getting all worked up over his purposefully upsetting words. Sighing in defeat, you lay back down on the mattress and squeeze your eyes shut, fully intending to ignore anything else he sees fit to say. If he wants to play dirty, then so be it. 

Alucard reaches his gloved hand out to your face, brushing his knuckles against your cheek, displaying a gentleness you thought impossible from a demon like him. It’s a featherlight touch that leaves goosebumps in its wake. Almost as if your body was attempting to reject it, aware of the heinous crimes those very hands have committed. 

“Rest well, my sweet little [First].” 

[rnelodyy]

C!Dream, the status quo, and why conflict is okay sometimes.

In this fandom, there is a lot of talk about conflict, who causes it, who avoids it, who is to blame for it, et cetera. An argument often heard from c!Dream apologists to justify his abysmal treatment of L’Manburg in general and c!Tommy in specific is “He was just trying to stop people causing conflict! He was protecting the server by stopping these conflict-causing maniacs!”

And it’s not hard to see where they get this idea from, because c!Dream repeats this sentiment a lot, from his “happy family” speech, to the speech during the final disc war about how c!Tommy causes constant conflict, to the fact that he always portrays himself as a reasonable authority figure trying to calm down these feral creatures always fighting with one another (and we’ll get to that idea…).

My reasoning for explaining how c!Dream’s worldview is deeply flawed may be a bit controversial, so I decided to write this essay to explore the following idea:

Sometimes, conflict is good actually.

(all /dsmp /rp, names refer to characters, not content creators)

Conflict, in itself, is morally neutral. It’s the context surrounding the conflict that allows us to ascribe morality to it. This fact makes this topic a LOT harder to discuss, because morality is subjective. What I’m writing here is all my own opinion, you may agree or disagree on some points, I just ask that you read it through and please don’t start shit over this.

Anyway, the context. It’s dependent on a number of factors.

Justification. Why was the conflict started?

Intent. What is the desired outcome for either party?

Proportionality. If the conflict is started out of revenge or punishment, is it proportionate to the wrong committed?

Power Dynamic. Is the person on the receiving end more, less, or equally as powerful as the person starting the conflict?

For example, let’s compare the L’Manburg War for Independence with the intervention during the Final Disc War.

Justification:

Dream declared war on L’Manburg because he saw them as traitors, and the land they occupied as rightfully his. Therefore, them making a country of their own where his rules didn’t apply was a violation of the status quo he wanted to uphold.

Punz and the others intervened because they didn’t want Dream to kill Tommy and/or Tubbo, and were tired of his constant meddling in their affairs.

Intent:

Dream’s intent was to attack L’Manburg until they surrendered, no matter how much hurt he’d cause or how many lives he’d take.

Punz and the other’s intent was to stop Dream from killing Tommy and Tubbo, and stop whatever plan he had to keep the server under control.

Proportionality:

L’Manburg declared independence in response to brutal violence as retribution for clumsy attempts at crime, on land nobody except Wilbur was using, were explicitly pacifistic and invited Dream to make an embassy in their land to discuss trade. Dream responded by declaring war, destroying their land, luring them into a trap and killing them, and continuing to beat them down until they surrendered.

Punz and the others intervened after Dream dragged two teenagers out into the wilderness to fight him, with little chance of them ever returning. This was after months of Dream’s meddling in conflicts he had nothing to do with, trying to control people’s actions, ripping Tommy away from his home and abusing him in secret and, in the end, destroying the place most synonymous with freedom from his rule. They intervened by getting Tommy and Tubbo to safety, letting Tommy (the kid who arguably suffered the most at Dream’s hands) take his items and beat him to death twice, then locking him up in prison.

Power Dynamic:

L’Manburg was significantly less powerful than Dream and his goons, with less skilled fighters and heavily inferior gear. They held their position fairly okay at the start, but after the Final Control Room, they were basically defenseless against Dream’s assault.

Dream had always had unprecedented power on the server. He’s leveled entire countries, crowns and dethrones kings when he feels like it, overruled the decision of a court of law, and in the end, had Tommy and Tubbo completely at his mercy before the intervention. Even beating Dream was seen as such an insurmountable task that it took fourteen people (excluding Clingyduo) to take him down.

The thing about conflict, even violent conflict, is that it’s not always negative. If your sister is being abused by her boyfriend and refuses to report it out of fear, you’re gonna be hard-pressed to find someone unable to sympathize with you if you go over to his house and break his nose.

What is a defining feature of conflict, is that it disrupts the status quo.

That’s not to say that some characters are always disruptors and others always preservers of the status quo. For example, during the Disc War, Tommy is the one trying to preserve and Dream the one trying to disrupt (the status quo being: Tommy owns the discs), and during the L’Manburg War for Independence, Tommy and Wilbur are disrupting while Dream is preserving (the status quo being: Dream has absolute power and the entire server needs to follow his rules).

It’s ALSO not to say that this disruption is always bad, because sometimes, the status quo fucking sucks, and throwing it on its head is the right thing to do. Overthrowing Schlatt is seen by everyone on the SMP and pretty much every fan as morally correct, as while Schlatt being president was the status quo, it meant he was ruling as a dictator, exiling his political opponents, imprisoning and heavily taxing dissenters, being verbally and physically abusive to his cabinet members, and forcing a guest at his festival to execute a sixteen year-old boy for spying for the political opponent he exiled.

Conflict being a genuinely good force of societal change isn’t usually brought up in the fandom though, at least not consciously. A lot of people, both on the server and IRL, see conflict only as a source of hurt and pain, and try to prevent or avoid it as much as possible.

And here’s where Dream differs from someone like Ranboo. Because while both Dream and Ranboo operate on the assumption that all conflict is bad all the time, Ranboo shows this by becoming conflict-avoidant to the extreme, to the point where he refuses to pick sides in pretty much any conflict, no matter how obviously good or evil one side is. Meanwhile, Dream shows this by becoming controlling to the extreme. Mitigating conflict isn’t enough, he needs to control everything to prevent all conflict ever.

In Ranboo’s case, this is less due to ideology and more due to personality. Ranboo is a deeply anxious person, and hates being in the middle of fights. He’s also… not very self-critical? He has issues with self-worth, but he very rarely takes a look in the mirror to inspect what it actually is he believes and says, making him very gullible and convinced of his own righteousness. But while that’s a VERY interesting character trait, Ranboo’s conflict-avoidance doesn’t make him a very good character to examine in the context of conflict and what it means.

So let’s look at Dream. Because, despite claiming to want to stop conflict, Dream CONSTANTLY starts conflicts or escalates existing ones. The L’Manburg War for Independence could’ve been entirely avoided if Dream hadn’t lashed out so heavily at a nation of pacifists who made their own area to avoid violence from authorities. As I explored in my George Vod Analysis, the griefing of George’s house would’ve been a lighthearted dispute between two people if Dream hadn’t taken over the entire thing and turned it into one of the biggest diplomatic crises in the server’s history. Mexican L’Manburg hadn’t even existed for an hour before Dream came by to kill its residents and destroy its land.

So why is Dream so focused on stopping conflict, despite constantly starting it himself? Why is THAT his hill to die on?

Simple. Dream wants to prevent disruptions to the status quo. That status quo being “Dream is the one in power and everyone has to listen to him.”

But you can’t say that out loud. If you say “everyone needs to listen to me otherwise it’s not fair”, you sound like a whiny five year-old at best, and a tyrant at worst. So, instead of saying that, Dream says “I just want to prevent conflict, keep the server peaceful.”

Remember what I said about one party being the disruptor and another being the preserver? Well, Dream’s status in the early days of the server is almost always preserver of the status quo. The only times he’s the disruptor is if disrupting that status quo serves to strengthen the status quo of him being in power. For example: Stealing Tommy’s discs is a disruption of the “Tommy’s discs are his and his alone” status quo, but strengthens the “Dream is the most powerful dude on the server” status quo, because the discs give him power over Tommy.

By fighting L’Manburg, he was trying to preserve the status quo, because having a government on the server meant he no longer had absolute power. Hell, REALLY early on, he decided to kill George and burn all his stuff because George had full diamond while everyone else was still running around in iron armor.

However, after L’Manburg’s independence, Dream’s focus shifted. Instead of preserving the status quo, he’d disrupt it in order to return to the status quo as HE wanted it, with no nations, and himself at the top.

But again, that wouldn’t look good. Making yourself the undisputed ruler of the entire server is not good for optics, so instead, Dream hides behind the excuse that he’s just trying to stop conflict, or seeking retribution for slights against his nation.

By this point, Tommy, the only person who CONSTANTLY refuses to bow to his demands, becomes his scapegoat. Tommy is loud, enjoys chaos and getting on people’s nerves, and causes, admittedly, a LOT of conflict. Lighthearted, non-serious conflict with very little actual consequences, but conflict nonetheless. It’s not hard for him to start smearing Tommy’s name, painting him as this feral child at fault for every conflict ever, mostly because a lot of people already believed something like that to be true.

The idea that Tommy is uniquely destructive or chaotic is complete bullshit. Tommy is definitely on the more chaotic side, but he’s not that much more chaotic or destructive than your average server member, he’s just really loud and annoying about it, which makes the things he DOES do stick out more. But Dream, especially during the Exile Conflict, continuously pushed the idea that Tommy is the only one creating conflict on the server, that Tommy is responsible for all conflict ever, and that without Tommy, everyone would be at peace.

And at some point… Dream started believing this himself.

His speech during the Final Disc War illustrates this perfectly. He tells Tommy that ever since he joined, there’s been nothing but war and terrorism and conflict, and that those originated from the attachments Tommy brought to the server. That, by cutting off his own attachments, exploiting everyone else’s, and getting rid of Tommy, he could restore the old status quo, before L’Manburg, before Tommy, when everything was peaceful and no conflict existed. Except, Tommy is too fun to fuck with, so instead of killing him, Dream was going to lock Tommy up in Pandora’s Vault, probably for the rest of his life, to continue breaking him.

This is a prime example of Dream falling for his own bullshit.

First of all, Tommy didn’t cause all those wars, he was actually on the receiving end of most of them. A vast majority of the wars and terrorism Tommy got caught up in were actually started by Dream, or Dream was actively helping the guy who started it.

Second, Tommy didn’t bring the concept of attachment to the server. He gets very attached to things, true, but attachment is a very basic part of the human condition. Even Dream, the guy openly shunning all attachment, isn't immune to it, in the end, he’s attached to the server as a whole, and Tommy, who he gave almost biblical importance in his narrative. Like Tommy said, if you have no attachment to things, why does anything matter at all?

Third, getting rid of Tommy and controlling the entire server with their attachments… that wouldn’t have restored the status quo, because the status quo exactly as Dream envisioned it never existed. He’s not chasing a past that was ruined by Tommy, he’s chasing an idealized fairytale version of the past where everyone was friends and frolicked around in the fields and there was never any conflict, before Tommy came along and ruined everything. Before Tommy joined, there was a SHIT ton of conflict, from minor disputes over theft, to the above-mentioned incident where Dream destroyed George’s stuff, to the lemon tree conflicts that wound up being taken to court!

Except, even this idea of Dream wanting to restore an idealized, made-up past is only partially true. What Dream is looking to return to and uphold is a world where he was the only authority and nobody questioned him. The status quo he wants to return to, no matter how much he denies it, is the one where everyone was at his mercy and he could do whatever he wanted without impunity. However, because he’s convinced himself that conflict is the issue, not disobedience, even if his plan succeeded, he’d have to keep the entire server in a chokehold to get them to follow his ideal plan.

Because conflict is inevitable. Anywhere where there’s two or more people sharing a space, you’re going to run into conflict at some point. People will have disagreements, they will fight, they will have miscommunications, they will have a bad day or accident and antagonize someone else.

Resolving these issues through conflict, whether it’s verbal, physical or legal, will result in a healthier community in the long run, because people’s pent-up frustrations will get an outlet, and people will try to hash out compromises or accommodations based on the reactions they get. It’s not always the ideal solution, but it’s better than just sitting everyone down, telling them to play nice, and smacking them over the back of the head as soon as they start complaining.

But conflict threatens the status quo. And as Dream involves himself in more and more conflict, they increasingly start threatening HIS status quo. So in order to maintain his status quo, conflict needs to be stomped out as soon as it crops up, no matter how minor it is.

So, now to paint a timeline through this lens.

Dream started off as the ultimate power on the server, able to do whatever he wanted without consequence. Tommy joined and threatened that status quo, but he was just one guy, so keeping him away and occupied wasn’t too hard. It was fun, even.

Then L’Manburg came, and posed the first substantial threat to Dream’s rule. Dream tried crushing this rebellion before it had a chance to take root, but in the end, Tommy traded his discs (the things Dream was using to control him) for L’Manburg’s independence. The status quo changed, L’Manburg was here to stay.

However, L’Manburg still posed a threat to Dream’s rule, so manipulating events to destroy it became Dream’s next priority. He supported Schlatt during the election in the hope he’d destabilize the nation, then sided with Pogtopia in secret to help overthrow the government, then helped Wilbur with the TNT to blow L’Manburg sky high, then betrayed Pogtopia for Schlatt’s side for the revival book. When Pogtopia won, Dream was egging Techno on through whispers to try to get him to go ape shit, so with Techno’s withers and Wilbur’s TNT, L’Manburg was gone, and the old status quo had been restored.

Except it hadn’t been. L’Manburg was rebuilt, with Tubbo at the helm this time, and a new status quo was put in place, with L’Manburg still there and still a threat. However, with Wilbur’s death, Tommy was left almost completely unprotected, and Dream took his chance to get Tommy thrown out of the country, hoping to get his biggest threat out of the way, as well as being able to sink his claws into the L’Manburg Cabinet.

Dream isolated Tommy in exile and tried to break him to the point where he wouldn’t put up any resistance. During this time, he also commissioned the prison, which he claimed to only be for the most dangerous members of the server, but is a pretty transparent attempt to enforce his rule by making a place where he can stick anyone who disobeys him. The server is slipping more and more out of his control, with more factions popping up and more people outright defying him, so like any dictator, he takes harsher and harsher measures to stay on top.

Tommy escapes exile, and while Dream is keeping tabs on him, he can’t directly control him anymore. So, to prevent Tommy from returning to L’Manburg and stopping his plans at disrupting the status quo, he blows up the community house, frames Tommy for it, and goes to Tubbo to demand Tommy’s disc, the only reason destroying L’Manburg was disadvantageous for him. Tommy jumps in to defend himself and takes L’Manburg’s side, but in the end, Dream takes both the discs, then destroys L’Manburg with Techno.

By this point, the status quo Dream wanted to craft is almost complete. L’Manburg is gone, there are no other major factions threatening his rule, and he’s pretty much set a precedent for what happens to dissenters. All he needs to do now is get rid of Tommy.

Except he can’t kill him. Over time, Dream has become obsessed with Tommy, to the point where he’s started seeing Tommy as the lynchpin of the server that everyone else gravitates around. Tommy is almost a living MacGuffin: he brings chaos and attachment which gives him power, but in the right hands, that power can be harnessed to create order.

(This is absolute nonsense of course, Tommy is just A Guy, his presence itself doesn’t create chaos, and controlling him doesn’t mean controlling the entire server because a lot of people just plain don’t give a shit.)

So instead of killing him, Dream tries to put him in prison. He even outright says that he wants to finish what he started in exile, this time with even tighter control and no possibility for escape.

He goes to kill Tubbo for multiple reasons: Tubbo is no longer useful to him, Tubbo can be used as leverage to keep Tommy compliant in prison (the possibility to revive someone’s best friend is a pretty valuable bargaining chip), and Tubbo would absolutely raise hell if Dream threw his best friend in jail for no reason.

If Dream had gotten his way, he’d be able to blackmail everyone on the server into compliance. Tommy, his scapegoat, would’ve been in prison, so now without a scapegoat, he could’ve probably gone one of two ways.

He could’ve created a new scapegoat to blame all new conflict on. Quackity would’ve been a good candidate, he’s VEHEMENTLY anti-Dream, and would’ve had no qualms about starting shit with him. Whether it was with El Rapids or with Las Nevadas, Quackity would’ve been the biggest anti-Dream voice in Tommy’s absence. So c!Dream would keep Quackity around, blaming him for everything that goes wrong… Until Quackity would get too uppity and either gets murdered or put in jail with Tommy, and the cycle repeats until either people rise up, or everyone who isn’t completely subservient is in prison.

Or, he could’ve cracked down EVEN HARDER on conflict. Anyone creating a new nation gets stomped into the dirt, anyone fighting over resources gets murdered, anyone squabbling over griefed property gets thrown in prison for weeks at a time, all the while their property and pets that they care about more than anything else get dangled in front of their noses. Anyone who’s ever read any more than five pages about the dynamics of dictatorships can see that this kind of repression is basically ASKING for revolution, especially since Dream has shunned all friendships at this point and his only ally is only there because Dream pays him.

(this is all speculation, we don’t know what would’ve actually happened, dont yell at me)

The status quo Dream is trying to return to never existed, and the one he creates in the process isn’t sustainable. Stopping every conflict ever is completely unsustainable and detrimental to the larger community, which Dream knows, because he uses conflict CONSTANTLY to get his way, while still presenting himself as a peacekeeper. What he’s really against is disruptions of the status quo, because the status quo allows him to do whatever he wants and control the server as much as he wants.

Conflict isn’t inherently bad. Some conflicts are harmless, some are necessary disruptions of the status quo. Conflict itself is morally neutral, and trying to prevent all conflict ever leads into some… iffy territory. Remember when Ranboo yelled at the L’Manburgians for participating in conflict the day before Doomsday?

Anyway. Please examine situations with more nuance than “conflict bad”, it’ll make for much better analysis. Trust me. /nm

[fallout-drabbles-n-stuff]

Hello! Hope you're doing great! I love your blog ❤️

I was wondering how romanced and non-romanced companions would react to Sole being ass grabbed without their consent by a random dude. Thank you!

Romanced (❤️) and Non-Romanced (✨)

Cait:

❤️-

“Oi- look here for a sec..”

Unlike how some may assumed she would act, she would first sneak up on the asshole- waiting until he turned and gave her a nasty sneer before swiftly swinging her fist and making contact with a *crack* to the son of a bitch’s stupid nose. However once Cait got ahold to something, she doesn’t really let go. One punch wouldn’t be enough- this asshole just assaulted you- right in front of her face! Before she knew it, she had reduced the sick fuck into a groaning, swollen pile of bruises and blood. She just couldn’t stop.

✨-

“Hey dickface! I fuckin’ saw that!”

Flashes of the sleazy raiders she knew too well would be the first thing that came to mind- sending cool shivers of terror all throughout her body.

That’s when the adrenaline kicked in.

She’d still beat their ass, whether you like it or not.

Curie:

❤️-

“Excusez-moi, i don’t believe that is proper behavior- oh never mind, I doubt you even comprehend what proper means...”

She wouldn’t outright hurt someone- but damn, she sure wanted to then. Instead of doing it though, she just got all up in the man’s face, sticking her finger in his chest and telling him off. Much alike Tinkerbelle if you squint.

✨-

Kind of the same thing here tbh. I just don’t foresee Curie being the type to be excessively violent.

Danse:

❤️-

“What twisted thought made you think you had the right to do that? No- actually there isn’t anything you could say that would justify violating someone..”

Yes, Danse is composed- but no, he would not just sit idly by and watch someone do such a thing to his love. His automatic reflex is to go into protective mode, which involved him promptly shoving the man away from you- letting the perpetrator fall to the ground- only to pick him back up by the collar of his shirt and practically seethe and he confronted him. Had he not been in the right state and fear causing a too big of a scene- he just might’ve roughed the man up worse.

✨-

“That was an extremely poor decision, civilian.”

Similar to a romanced Danse, he would still be hella

Protective over you. Instead of letting his heart speak too much though- he’d simply grab the little shit and pull him aside, giving him a harsh glare and the promise of being crushed by a power armour boot.

Deacon:

❤️-

“Like how that feels, dickbag? Didn’t think so..”

Instead of causing a huge scene by slitting his throat, Deacon smoothly pressed into the man from behind- his hands leaving an imprinted bruise from how harshly he grabbed the man. It caused said man to yell and turn- but he didn’t do anything- he understood. As a matter of fact, he would shamefully apologize to you, silently pleading for you to tell your lover to stop violating him as well.

✨-

“See? Now we’re all uncomfortable..”

Unlike his demonstration shown above, Deacon would go for the more mild “return ass grab”. A quid pro quo, an uno reverse card if you will. Who even knows how to respond to that? No one. It just leaves the whole lot of you with a mural feeling of discomfort and awkwardness where usually rage and violation would’ve taken place.

Gage:

❤️-

“Shit, betcha wished you would’ve done something else- huh? Just think about it this way, now you can go into early retirement with your little situation..”

Gage is ruthless.

As soon as the man laid a hand on you- as soon as he saw the look of fear and embarrassment that graced your face..he grabbed the poor sack of shit’s hand and cut it off- leaving him to bleed and cry out. Most likely to die..after all, no one would dare help the man that just tried to cop a feel on the boss.

✨-

“Wrong move, shit stain. *chuckle*, Get ‘em boss.”

He’ll intervene if you do nothing- but honestly Gage just wants to see how you punish the man. Best you set a good example.

Hancock:

❤️-

“You know, it takes a special person to do that...*chuckle*.”

You remember what he did to that man that tried to distort you? That was before he fell in love with you- so what I want you to do is take that event and triple the brutality. It’s exactly that.

✨-

“....damn, think I’ve got a little something on my shirt.”

Again- he stabbed a bitch just for fucking with y-

Macready:

❤️-

“Are you serious? I’ll give you the count to ten, best start running- I’m pretty good at long range target practice.”

It would take every fiber of his being not to beat the man’s face in with the butt of his rifle...so making his life easier and not risking sitting in jail, Mac just threatens the man and proceeds to load his gun.

✨-

“Haha, Youre so funny- bet you get all the ladies by showing them how small your cock is without them even having to see it.”

Have you ever notice how mean Macready can be? Well, now you can hear it for yourself. The man such words were directed too would likely try to beat Mac up for saying it- which by doing so Mac would have no problem whopping him. Remember, he’s scrappy.

Maxson:

❤️&✨-

“I assume you enjoy having hands, correct? If so, I advise you to get as far away as humanely possible this instant.”

Had he been any other person, Maxson would’ve surely knocked teeth out- but seeing as he was so painfully aware of the reputation he must uphold, he restrained himself. If the man was someone in the brotherhood though, he would show no mercy- being court martialed for sexually assaulting a higher ranking officer would be the least of the perpetrators worried.

Nick:

❤️-

“How dare you..?”

Nick is thankfully a very well thought out and morally unquestionable individual. Thus being said, he will do everything within his power to make the man who touched his lover in such a horrid way pay. He may not kill them..but who ever said that death or being beaten is the worst thing to happen to a person? Regardless, remember ghat Nick has connections with the fallout version of the mafia.

✨-

“Dontcha got a better place for that hand?”

Even though he might’ve seemed a little too calm, Nick would be sure to shoo off the perpetrator and have him dealt with later.

Preston:

❤️&✨-

“Look you piece of trash- I don’t know what ever made you think you can just do whatever you want, but there are consequences for being so stupid.”

Despite his peaceful and gentle way of being- Preston would have absolutely no problem throwing hands with someone who threatened the General of the Minutemen.

X6-88:

❤️-

“.....”

Have I mentioned that X6 is borderline obsessive? Have I also mentioned that he can be entirely ruthless? Hope so- because someone sexually assaulting you is a sure fire way for a bullet to find its way into their head with absolutely no hesitation. He wouldn’t even flinch as the blood sprays and soils his clothes- only seeming phased and slightly annoyed whenever he had to take his shades off and clean the gore.

I don’t advise that you reprimand him for such eggless behavior either.

✨-

“Why did you do that?”

Although he was calm, his words soft like rain- the actions that followed shortly thereafter were anything but relaxed. As soon as the man turned to mouth off and say it was “just a joke”, X6 grabbed his hand and squeezed- watching as the appendage turned red and the poor assailant turned victim tried to desperately get away. Poor thing- he wasn’t going to go until he provided an answer that X6 accepted.

Trick is- nothing would satisfy the brutal, still man.

[everyonewasabird]

Brickclub 3.4.2 ‘Funeral Oration upon Blondeau, by Bossuet'

The first thing we get about Laigle, maybe among the most unassuming of the Amis in his intro, links him immediately to Jean Valjean:

Laigle de Meaux was leaning lazily back against the doorway of the Café Musain. He had the appearance of a caryatid in vacation; he was supporting nothing but his reverie.

One of our early images of Valjean was his holding up a caryatid that had fallen. Is Lesgle being linked with Valjean? Or with the fallen statue?

Either way, it invokes the idea of Valjean, with the difference that we’ve never really seen Valjean at rest.

I’m charmed that the thing that saves Marius is his and Lesgle’s mutual aimless loafing. If either had been going anywhere at the pace of a person with somewhere to get to, none of this fortuitous meeting would have happened. “To loaf is Parisian” indeed.

Lesgle is being absurd and roundabout in his explanation, and Marius’s first fear is that he’s being ridiculed. Because: of course it is. Maybe “fuck Gillenormand” isn’t entirely fair here, but I’m going to say it anyway. Fuck Gillenormand.

And then, we launch into another fable about the law, like we’ve seen before. Only this time, it’s not so much the law as law school.

Law school seems just as rule-bound and bent on punishment, though. Blondeau’s “tawny eye” is surely related to the “falcon eye of Javert,” and his “gentleness of a tiger” to Javert’s recurring tigerishness. This place is where the people who work in the legal system are taught its rules, and Blondeau is one of the ones who teaches them. And he has for a long time:

Listolier and Fameuil, who were engaged in discussing their professors, explained to Fantine the difference that existed between M. Delvincourt and M. Blondeau.

These are the same professors the Amis complain about. This is the system that enabled Tholomyes. It’s even the same people in the system.

Like Valjean, Lesgle intervenes in that system for the sake of mercy--only, like Myriel in his best moments, he couches it in so much self-deprecation and humor that Marius almost forgets to be grateful. Pilf has pointed out before how unbelievably gracefully Lesgle does this: Marius takes on life debts at the drop of a hat, but Lesgle plays the buffoon so well here that he doesn’t get mired in gratitude. And Lesgle takes up enough of Marius’s time that Courfeyrac can get there and give him a place to live.

There’s a lot about saving people in this book, and a lot about the ingratitude of the people who do the saving forgetting the humanity and equality of the people they save. Lesgle, almost imperceptibly, threads that needle flawlessly.

Then he delivers the eulogy from the chapter title--which really is an amusing joke about Actual Bossuet, who I’m sure was famous for many more serious funeral orations:

Here lies Blondeau, Blondeau the Nose, Blondeau Nasica, the bullock of discipline, bos disciplinae, the great watchdog of order, the angel of roll call, who was straight, square, punctual, rigid, honest, and awful. God struck him off just as he struck me off.

Seriously, that might as well be Javert. The link Hugo is making isn’t subtle.

I’m absolutely charmed that Courfeyrac doesn’t even know what’s going on when he invites Marius home. He’s barely walked out of the cafe. I love them.

I don’t think I understood Lesgle at all before this readthrough. It’s startling how much like the Bishop he is.

[tintentrinkerin]

nothing on my tongue but hallelujah...

Rating: Explicit

Pairing:

Jared Padalecki/Jensen Ackles, Jared/various, Jared/Alex Calvert

Warnings: 

Gangbang, Barebacking, Jealousy, Top Jared Padalecki, Bottom Jensen Ackles, Religious Cults, Power Dynamics

Summary: Jared's Cult, the "Church of Grace" is a peaceful and harmonic little community in the South. Then young Jensen appears and rocks the Cult leader's world - moreoever, it rattles Alex awake, who's been sure to be his leader's most loved member.

Written upon request

Word Count: 9.9k

Read below the cut or on AO3

Kudos are love <3

The Divine Five Pillars of “Church of Grace”

Obedience

Purity

Community

Free Love

Kindness

The “Creed”

I believe in God, the Father and the Almighty,

who created the world, the people, the seas, the animals and the trees.

I believe in God’s son, who is his true Vicar on Earth

For he brings joy, love, community, kindness and hope. 

I reject the Devil and his kin. I turn my whole existence to 

the true Vicar of the Holy Father. 

I hereby swear to follow the five divine rules of the Church

and give myself into the hands of God’s most graceful creation.

May He and God’s Angels lead me into Paradise.

Amen.

2 Corinthians 11:13-15 

For such men are false apostles, deceitful workmen, disguising themselves as apostles of Christ. And no wonder, for even Satan disguises himself as an angel of light. So it is no surprise if his servants, also, disguise themselves as servants of righteousness. Their end will correspond to their deeds.

Siddharta Gautama

Through true honesty deeply believe that all sentient-beings are one.That all beings have the same true nature, wisdom, virtue.

If people knew how much effort it took to get an orgy going, they probably wouldn’t even bother and settle for porn instead. 

Jared and Alex had to plan every monthly “gathering” very thoroughly, especially, when new recruits and adepts arrived. The new boys and girls would maybe chicken out at first, but that wouldn’t be punished. Later, yes. At their first time? No. Jared was very kind to those he found. In other communities they’d be punished right on spot. But Jared, no no, he wasn’t that barbaric. He wanted everyone to feel happy and included. Everyone had to use the headquarter’s communal showers or baths after they had an extensive cleansing plan, to purify their body and also a very intense work out session. All for purity’s sake. Jared loves purity. 

The garden behind the Church of Grace’s headquarters was around 400 acres, enough space to celebrate free love, the holy spirit within all of us, and most importantly, worship the true Vicar of God on Earth. Forget Jesus. 

Jared was pleased when he saw his usual very busy adepts who were about to be initiated in the second step of Priesthood. They were so eager and they had a fantastic taste in decorating. There will be a bonfire, it’s May 1st after all, one of Jared’s favorite dates for a gathering. Pagans used to celebrate Beltane, well, they still do. In tiny groups, the Wiccans and the Druids. He has no affiliations with them, but as a shepherd of his sheep he needs to be informed. Wise. He wants to be the one who can answer all their questions, give interpretations. His interpretations. His view of the world. And in his world, only his Church will bring them peace and harmony and closer to God’s grace and mercy. 

The bonfire wood is piled right in the center of the garden, the part of the garden that members are allowed to see and walk on. Around the bonfire a lot of big wooden logs are placed for the followers of Jared to sit on. As soon as the fire burnt down a little bit and some chalices of holy wine were emptied and some delicious weed was consumed, the orgy might start. Jared will let the believers start first. There’s always a couple or a single horny person that will start wooing a person of their interest. Jared will join later, when the ecstasy is palpable and the adepts play the drums, letting the mass of naked bodies find their rhythm. Behind the huge pile for the bonfire, there’s Jared’s seat. A massive chair made of dark wood, polished, carvings all over. Still a thing someone could find a little too pagan, but Jared doesn’t care. The truth is what he speaks, not the others. And the truth is, that people still are just the same as in the early Middle Ages. The same things struck them with awe, and it’s not churches in white marble and Jesus hanging from crosses. Nature and it’s forces, the hidden desires. Intimate, primal and authentic. That’s his motto. No nude angel chiseled out of porcelain will make people feel this kind of raw euphoria and devotion as a bonfire and some drums do. Let the drums shake their cores and make their blood rage. This is how you make people feel their primal truth, and then, they’ll realize why doing this once a month is so freeing. They will get back to work, back to Jared’s mass, satisfied and their needs soothed. Then they will happily obey, stay pure, pray and make the community itself a functional unit of people with the same values.

And their money. It’s always gonna end up in such a community running itself, on donations, the members’ money and other things. 

When the sun sets, the members of the community sit down on the wooden banks or logs, or they bring a white towel to sit on. Jared counts the members and everyone is there. Alex sits beside Jared’s chair, obeissant. 

The white flowy cult dresses start billowing in the wind. Jared sits down on his chair, with a graceful flowing movement. He’s dressed in white too, linen, see through even when dry. When he sits all the heads turn to him. In the twilight of the remaining sunbeam, you could think, Jared just descended from heaven. He likes that idea. He raises his arms and in his strong, rough voice he proclaims “Brothers, sisters, it’s time for our monthly celebration. You cleansed your bodies, you prayed and did good service to the community. Now is the time to reward you, my brothers and sisters. Let’s have the holy communion, break bread and offer it to your neighbours, offer wine to your friends. Connect.” There’s faint applause and Jared puts his hand down. “No need to applaud, my dear sister, tonight, we celebrate you and your devotion and purity!”

He turns to Alex, dressed in white linen trousers. “Brother Alex will light  the fire and then, brothers and sisters, enjoy the bread and wine, let your spirits flow and find your matches for tonight!”

The crowd cheers and they end the chorus with a loud and enthusiastic “Amen!”

“Amen!”Jared echoes and his voice layers upon everything else.

When he sits down and Alex lights up the fire he watches all these people, the four new recruits. A young cute redhead girl, she looks like condensed sunshine - a young boy, looks like he’s here because the redhead is here (he’d be weeded out tonight) - another redhead, looking fierce. A snake. He might take a closer look at her - and then, there is Green Eyes. The boy that Jared picked himself. Usually one of his lower assistants would pick them but this time, Jared had to intervene. He needed these assistants to weed out the no go’s just before Jared could even see them. He couldn’t check on every person willing to join, they needed to make a first sighting and then the few ones who might be of Jared’s interest, would be invited to meet the True Vicar himself. Usually, that was 10 out of 200 or even less. And Jared was just as rigorous with ditching the foul seeds. But Green Eyes was his favorite all along. Those eyes… 

Alex breaks the loaf of bread and offers it to Jared. Of course, he’s on his knees and only looks up when Jared takes the half of the loaf and gives him his blessing.

“May you be blessed by our Lord and his Angels,” Jared says very formally. Alex looks up, his face has tiny sprinkles of ash on them already and his robe turned transparent from the sweat. He’s decent. Will he try as the first one today? Like always? 

“May you be blessed by your Father, Our Lord and his Angels,” Alex replies until Jared gestures to him to stay up. 

“Amen.” 

“Amen.”

Jared eats and then receives the wine from Alex too. That’s a golden rule. As his personal assistant, Alex receives the blessings from Jared. Just after him, anyone is able to be blessed by their Master. They share half of the bread, they will need the rest later. In this community it is not necessary to receive Jared’s blessing to consume the holy communion as his liberal practice says that any true believer in their community, on one of the 12 holy days of their community “gathering”, can offer and receive blessings from a brother or a sister. Jared’s happy about that, because blessing 120 people would make him pass out drunk and he can’t have that. He is in control. And he needs to stay in control, too. 

Around him, the wine, the food are eaten and some herbal cigarettes are lit, the thick smell of weed is everywhere. Four cult members responsible for music start playing the drums and flutes now. Quietly still, just a hint that soon, the gathering will start with their original purpose. The physical and mental connection of the members with each other. Jared can already see people who are done eating, wine tipsy and a little herbally relaxed. Hands wander under togas and robes, simple shirts and wide hippie trousers. Alex stays with Jared, looking down on the obedient sheep doing what they’re supposed to do. The fabric in his crotch is tenting. One look in Alex’ face tells Jared everything.

“You won’t give up, huh?”

Alex shakes his head. “No. I will never give up.”

Jared now stands up and stretches like a cat that has just awoken and now is on their way to do some mischief. “Boy, all of you try so hard, but none of you can take it.”

“It’s about receiving your mercy,” Alex says, now sounding a little sulky. 

Jared heads towards the bonfire where some couples (or more) are intertwined with each other, laying on the bare grass, sitting on logs or they found a nice spot on the white towels everyone brought. Right in the center, around the fireplace, it is too hot to sit there. Jared makes his rounds, ruffles some hair here, kisses a girl there, even helps a young girl settle on her lover’s cock.

“There you go, sweetheart,” he coos, “that’s how you show your love and devotion.”

She would be too tight and small for him though. All the women here would surely love to try again and again, but none of them would be prepared for his cock. 

When he is done doing rounds around the bonfire he sits down on an empty white blanket and just like it’s natural, the free members gather around him. The drums start playing a hard and catchy rhythm. 

The psychology behind music and rhythm. His members really know how to play a mass of people and put their bodies in the right directions. Alex joins and everyone respects Jared’s assistant too much to try and get Jared before him. In absolute devotion, Alex pulls Jared’s white linen pants down to his naked ankles, then off his naked feet. The participants murmur and gasp, such a delight every time. Jared didn’t wear boxer briefs or anything else underneath and so, everyone can admire his massive cock. It’s big, the erection growing strong and hard and the tip bounces against Jared’s toned six pack, above his belly button. Even Alex with his long filigrane and very skilled fingers can’t wrap around the shaft fully. 

They all watch, not even Alex dares to touch him yet. 

“You. Alex. Claire. You were such a good team last time. Would you show me how perfectly you harmonize?”

The blonde girl blushes deep red and Alex first raises an eyebrow. It’s clear who he wants, but he would never deny one of Jared’s commands. And that’s what it is. A command. 

Alex pushes Claire on all fours, one strong hand in her hair and presses her down while he sucks on two of his fingers and then penetrates her with them. She squeals and giggles, but before Alex fucks her he knows he has to give his true interest a show, and he will. While fingering her he presses his face between her buttcheeks and starts sucking. The scene gets very loud with pleasure noises very soon and another guy asks to accompany them. 

Jared supports himself with one arm and the other he uses to stroke his cock, throbbing and hot, he loves it when his followers put on such a show. He’s leaking some precum already and a boy next to him looks at it. Greedy and inexperienced. Jared doesn’t let him taste yet, and instead the nameless boy bends down to kiss Jared’s very muscular thighs. Another follower starts doing the same on the other side, everything with Jared stroking himself slowly. He wants to enjoy every minute of it. His toes are sucked on, submissive followers suck them like it’s his massive member. The first brave adepts gather around them too and Jared can’t help but smile. People stroke his hair, kiss his neck and leave their marks, but what Jared really needs is someone taking his cock like a champion. He knows he’s intimidating. Thick and lock, and even grows bigger when hard. The first adept who is bold enough to come forward is very much welcome. He has himself oiled pretty well, he smells flowery and when he sinks on Jared’s cock (just the tip!), he freezes. 

“Oh… God”, he hisses, “oh my f… so big…” Jared smirks, his hands on the twink boys hips. Such a beautiful boy, Jared would love to fuck him and fill him up, but it looks like he is already failing at the tip. 

“Go slow, my dear,” Jared says nonetheless. A guru can hope. 

Two hands on his shoulders push the boy farther down and he cries out, half in pleasure, but also in pain. The hands disappear and the young man on Jared’s cock looks like he’s about to cry. 

“It’s too much for you, hm?”

The boy nods and gets up, legs shaking. You can tell he never had a guy fuck his ass before, bonus points for using oil as lube. He might try again after he gets used to it with another cult member. He stammers an apology. Jared pulls him down for a second and presses his thumb on the boy’s forehead. 

“I bless you, brother.”

It’s a ritual, it’s a necessity, or the boy will maybe consider leaving. But most of the boys, like Alex, stay close to Jared and try it again and again and again. Some people are overachievers, maybe one day it will be successful. 

The boy mumbles an Amen and then strolls away, looking for another group he can find a place in. Jared still feels the tight ass of this boy and, damn, how much he loves it when they’re tight, maybe an anal virgin even, and he’s the first to fuck them. Another brother sucks him off, but  he also has trouble swallowing more of Jared’s wand than just the tip. His sucking is superb, ambitious even. Drool runs down his throbbing cock, damn, he even makes delicious sounds! Jared’s head falls back and he wishes he could blow his first load, but all these attempts of his followers just leave him just ‘almost coming. The man takes him deeper now but is interrupted by heavy gagging and he has to give up. Now it’s Alex who claims to be next. Alex is the kind of guy who acts like a passionate lover with anyone, even though he only craves  Jared’s attention. He’s open and gaping already, must've gotten into a very nice threeway with Kathryn and the other member. Alex sinks on Jared’s cock, his back pressed against Jared’s sweaty chest. Alex is able to take more than just Jared’s tip after extensive dilating practice or when he’s been fucked already by two or more of his brothers of the Church, but that leaves Jared only semi turned on, too. He feels loose, not as tight as when he tried it the first time and cried for several minutes because Jared’s dick almost tore him apart. It’s enough to make Jared cum and bless Alex with an intense prostate orgasm, but still Jared is not satisfied. When Alex leaves and some others follow him to the pool, he sits down again, crotch still throbbing, his need still not satisfied. Around him the orgy is at its peak, no one is alone by now, everyone is sharing their love and energies. Jared is gifted, his cock is ready again five minutes later and he mounts that ginger woman, the adept. But she winces when he’s halfway in and Jared has to pull out. She’s biter and a scratcher, her thick accent is sexy and he makes her cum multiple times with his tongue and fingers, but he holds back now, he waits for the perfect one. Someone to form a union with. A tight one, but skilled and resilient. A man that can take his cock and even if it hurts a little, push through. 

Jared sinks down on one of the blankets, lies down and stares in the clear starry night, a follower brings him a pillow and others massage his thighs and arms, his feet. God, yes, his feet are so sensitive. Another guy shyly asks if he may be of service and when Jared opens his eyes and looks up it’s Green Eyes. He hasn’t seen the boy since the beginning of the orgy. Jared immediately hikes up and shoos his other followers away. 

“Sure, sit with me.”

The boy with the forbidden pretty pouty lips, the rough voice and piercing green eyes sits down, facing the self proclaimed Vicar of God.

“You want to be of service, what was your name again? I’m sorry that I have to ask, I am terrible with names – most people change theirs after initiation anyway and that’s what stays in my memory.”

Green Eyes looks at him. “I’m Jensen.”

“Hello Jensen. I’m glad you came to our monthly free love gathering. Is that the kind of religious practice you seek?” 

A girl offers them some bread and a chalice of wine, plus some mushrooms on the side.

“It would be an honor, Jensen, to break the bread and drink the wine with you. Mushrooms are not mandatory if you’re allergic to that kind.”

Jensen grins and echoes the girl’s “amen” and gives her a smile. It’s gotten a bit quiet around them, some followers watch Jared and his new recruit very, very closely. 

“I don’t want to break the protocol, who is supposed to break the bread and offer it?” Jensen asks with a shy grin. Jared chuckles.

“We do not have a strict protocol, not on these special nights when we celebrate freedom and harmony. And free love. When we surrender to our primal instinct, you understand?”

Jensen nods seriously. “Yes, I get that.”

He rips off a piece of loaf then a second and offers one to Jared without the ceremonial motto. Jared ignores that (at least today) and receives the bread. “May you be blessed by our Lord and his Angels,” he says, presses his thumb on Jensen’s forehead and mumbles an “Amen”. Jensen echoes again, then takes a bite. When he’s done Jared offers him the wine with the same motto, and this time Jensen copies it, even though the Vicar is addressed during that sentence with “May you be blessed by your Father, our Lord and his Angels”. He will learn that, Jared will make sure of it. 

No one dares to come any closer after they’ve been offered shrooms, bread and wine. Some couples, or whole piles of copulating people don’t care what’s around them but some very devoted followers of Jared’s doctrine watch their Messiah and the new man very closely. Some are envious. Some are in awe of these two beautiful men sharing the body of Jesus Christ (strictly speaking Jared’s ‘brother’, just a few thousand years earlier) in such a manner. Jared’s tanned body glistens in the light and sparks of the bonfire and his hair started curling a little lately. Several people’s eyes turn wet. Given the beauty of their leader. Or given the fact there’s a new boy in town. And this boy is too pretty for his own good.

II

The wine is dry and aromatic, nothing you would just chug down and Jensen and Jared empty four chalices which are refilled by a maid that was brave enough to disturb her leader and the new recruit. It’s gotten chill and the bonfire shrinks and shrinks, some members of the Church try to revive it for a little longer and throw thick and heavy branches on it, along with brushwood that would burn easily and then transfer the fire over to the branches.

Just like in the 16th up to the 18th century – this is how you build a pyre to burn witches.

Jensen carefully, even a little shy now, lays a hand on Jared’s leg. The leader is surprised, given his attitude and behaviour he didn’t count on Jensen to take part in the orgy, he seemed more the watching type. The bonfire reflects in his intense green eyes and Jared feels an aching towards his new recruit. 

Now he realizes that Jensen’s white shorts are tenting. The way he looks up at Jared, through his thick blonde eyelashes it’s absolutely acting. Jensen is not that shy. Maybe a little. 

“The others told me…” Jensen started, “that I should under no circumstances give in to your… advances. You would, how did they say… tear me apart…? I wonder why…”

Jared snorts as an answer. Amused. His followers keep saying this to either see if someone’s brave enough to come forward right in their first few months here or if they’ll chicken out. 

“Well!” He has to laugh again. “Look, I think you’ve… you’ve watched a little without participating in this celebration, right? You’re still dressed, to my dismay!”

Jensen blushes, one hand on his crotch. Now, this reaction is a little more honest. 

“I can, I mean…”

Jared laughs louder now and then lays his hand on Jensen’s, that is covering his erect penis.

“Don’t make it awkward, Jensen, it’s fine. Not many participate in their first orgy and you are not obliged to, either. This is about free love. Father gave us free will for a reason. Because without free will, there is no love on this Earth.” 

There’s one streak of Jensen’s chin long hair, it’s styled but now the hairspray or the gel isn’t working it’s magic anymore. Jared brushes the strand behind Jensen’s ear. He’s closer to the recruit now and Jensen’s hand under his pulls away for the messiah to feel what’s underneath. 

“Regarding your concern about ripping you apart… I would never. But as you can see…”

Jensen’s eyes fixate on Jared’s growing cock and he gulps visibly.

“Yes, I…”, he looks up again, doe eyed and his mouth slightly opened, his pink silky tongue wets his lips. 

“You have the face of an angel, do you know that? I wonder what hides behind that…”

Jared’s voice is low and rough now, he groans when under his fingers Jensen’s cock jumps. 

“Jared, but… what if I can’t--”

“Shush, I’ll prepare you for it. And we have masses of oils. We’ll go slow. Very slow.”

A whisper erupts amongst the witnesses, their leader and idol! – wooing Jensen. A newbie. Some figures in the dark hurry for more oil, whole cans of it, juices, towels and fresh clothes. This is a choreography of duty to care for Jared. Everyone knows this is an occasion they won’t be able to witness that often. So far only one person could take Jared’s cock and fulfill his most aching wish. 

It’s Alex’s now hated duty to bring it all over to the blanket where Jensen climbs in Jared’s lap, panting faintly between two very passionate kisses. There’s fresh bread, more wine, water from the Church’s own well, fresh clothes for both and a big bottle of lube, oil based. It will stain every inch of fabric it’ll meet. Jared doesn’t even look up at him when he retreats, but he throws a ‘thank you’ in his direction. As soon as Alex is out of reach he is forgotten. 

Jared takes his time with this one. His commune members are in such harmony with each other already that prolonged foreplay isn’t necessary, but of course encouraged. Jensen is vocal, moans in their kisses and Jared loves the effort and the devotion he shows already. Jared pulls Jensen’s clothes off and bathes in the glow of this beautiful sight. Jensen’s skin is flawless, soft. It’s a joy touching him. Jensen pulls him in another kiss and arches in the leader’s strong arms - so responsive, in every way! 

“I want to try it,” Jensen then whispers, shakily.

“What exactly?”

“Take you. Suck you.”

Jared chuckles and gets up, pulls Jensen along on his lap. Jensen’s hand is big, he has deliciously thick fingers and Alex would appreciate some good fingering from him. He should introduce these two a little later

Jensen slides between Jared’s legs, who’s supporting himself with his arms to be able to watch Jensen try and gag on his cock. Jared senses some of his sisters and brothers coming closer, silently, to not interrupt them in their exploration ritual. He can’t blame them for being curious, and this is the exact purpose of their monthly gathering. Enjoy each other freely. 

Jensen’s mouth waters and when he opens his lips, a thick streak of drool runs down his face and chin. He doesn’t hesitate to bend down and wrap his lips around Jared’s tip.

A moment of breathless silence from everywhere. 

Jensen. slides. deeper. 

Jared moans and his head falls between his shoulder blades, so that he can see the clear starry night sky.

He will stop now, it’s too much. Oh God it’s too much, he can’t do it, Jared thinks, and then he starts praying Please let him go deeper. 

Jensen’s mouth feels tight, soft, and hot and he produces so much drool, it makes it messy. Perfectly messy. Jared’s head falls foward again and he watches Jensen taking him inch by fucking inch. Jared’s cock disappears in Jensen’s tight throat to the root. Jared stays perfectly still and tries to not even move a hair’s breadth. Jensen’s hand slightly presses on Jared’s stomach and then pulls away slowly. Painfully slowly, while working Jared’s incredibly thick shaft with his tongue. As soon as he’s able to look up to Jared everyone can see streaks of tears in his angelic face and his flushed cheeks. He keeps on working Jared’s tip, circling the bundle of nerves under the tip and then, with a high pitched gasp, pulls away completely.

He looks over to Jared and smiles. “Did I do good?”

Jared nods. It’s been ages since someone took him completely. It takes all of his willpower to not grab in Jensen’s hair and force his mouth down again to suck him off.. and then fuck his recruit’s face. He would gag and whine so pretty…. Jared needs a moment to breathe in and out very deeply, call himself to reason. 

“You are perfect,” he says, his voice shaky. “By the Angels, you are the best.”

Jensen blushes even deeper and looks away. He notices the other believers have gathered around them. Jared combs through his hair. He feels that Jensen now really is shy.. that’s not a show.

“Don’t bother, my dear. They won’t touch you if you don’t want to. I’m here for you and only you. Okay?”

Jensen nods. “So I really did good? Did no one before me take you that deep? I mean it’s a bit tricky but -”

Some of the watchers moan. 

“Did I say something wrong?”

“They all tried, dear. And failed. I guess you just earned yourself a title.”

Some of the watchers lurk in the dark, some are illuminated by the fainting bonfire. The sound of drums is gone. Jared watches Jensen look around and get used to it, after all. Then he turns to Jared and grins.

“I will work to keep the title then…,”

Jared pushes his delicious mouth on his cock again, and yes, fuck, holy fuck YES, Jensen can take him. He takes him so deep that Jared can feel his throat tighten and contract, but he’s not gagging in the bad way. Tears fall and drool runs down his reasonably thick shaft. Jared’s hand grips in Jensen’s hair and pulls. Jensen utters a surprised but pleased moan and keeps going faster and faster. One hand sneaks around Jared’s balls and massages them. Jared’s hips buck up and Jensen needs a break for a second, deep, hectic breathing, his teary eyes, the rest of the bonfire glistens in his eyes. Jared has a hard time holding back his possessive nature when Jensen just worships him like that. Faint and aroused moans around them show Jared that the others enjoy Jensen’s show as well. Some couples even have started fucking. Girls stand close by, rubbing their swollen and wet parts. 

“Look around,” he orders Jensen, “look around, how much love you spark.”

“Your voice… so deep… so much deeper,” Jensen is still fighting for breath. It makes Jared only crazier. 

“That’s you, you do that to me.” 

Jensen’s hand is still stroking him. Jared would be ready to come just now, preferably he’d shoot his massive load right in his throat, but what he wants even more, what’s the source of the deepest aching is the longing to finally be inside someone fully. He wants to ram his cock in Jensen up to the root and make him come first, then Jared could let go. 

“You’re close,” Jensen whispers and presses a kiss on Jared’s lips. “I swallow if you’re into that…”

Jared’s answer is a low and growl. “What I really want…”

“Let me guess… you want to fuck me? Here in front of all these people?”Jensen sounds out of breath, thrilled, over excited. His hands are shaking when he pulls himself on Jared’s lap.

Jared holds him close, his raging, painfully hard cock pressing on Jensen’s asshole. It’s slick from all this spit, but he wouldn’t dare to just enter him now, without warning. Without giving him something to chew on while Jared has to push his way in. 

“Free love. My pleasure is their pleasure,” Jared manages to say. He’s very proud to have that uttered in a manner that makes him seem still in control of himself. 

Jensen laughs quietly and then climbs down Jared’s lap. He stands up. And everyone can take a look at this beautiful body, shaped by God to strike people in awe. His own cock is thick and looks just delicious, Jared might want to get a taste one day, too. Then Jensen turns around and lowers on all fours, his perfectly shaped ass in Jared’s direction, head down, almost submissive. 

“Make your pleasure my pleasure,” he whispers, only Jared seems to hear it. 

Men and women formed a crescent around them now, the opening pointing to the dying fire. Jared licks his lips while he squeezes a very lavish amount of oil in his hand. He doesn’t cover his cock yet, he will help Jensen first. He enters him with one finger and Jensen bucks away first, in surprise but then lowers himself on the finger, starts fucking himself with it. His broken and sweet moans make Jared’s blood boil and also the participants around them start jerking harder. One hand gesture from Jared, and his followers stop. They shouldn’t finish before Jensen does, that’s just and right. 

“More,” Jensen demands, looking behind him with big teary eyes. His pupils are tiny and the iris of a thick and rich green. Jared gives him more. Jensen literally sucks the second finger in and when Jared starts massaging his prostate from outside with his thumb, Jensen cries out, stretching more and swallowing Jared’s long fingers to the root. He gasps tiny “oh god’s” and “fuck’s”. And then Jared isn’t able to hold the urge back and test if Jensen really is what Jared needs. Someone who fits him. He covers his long member with a lot of oil and also spreads generous amounts around Jensen’s anus.

“You think you’re ready, yeah?”

Jensen nods. “Positive.”

He even grabs his buttcheeks and pulls them apart, Jared has perfect sight of his slightly mouthing, dilated hole and all he has to do… He gulps violently, but then places his tip on Jensen’s entrance and sloooowly pushes in. Inch for inch. Jensen has to let go of his buttcheeks and his hands press on Jared’s hips.

“Holy… sh…”, Jensen huffs, “Is swearing even allowed?”

“Too much?”

“It’s a lot, but not too much… fuck…” 

Jensen breathes heavily but slowly, as slowly as Jared goes, his hands don’t push against him anymore and Jared can slide in even deeper. He’s amazed by how Jensen’s hole just swallows him, inch by delicious inch. He’s tight, extremely tight, thanks to the thick oily lube he won’t be hurt. Quite the opposite. Jared pushes in, freezes and rubs over Jensen’s back, soothing him. Jensen doesn’t need that much soothing though, after a few seconds of Jared holding perfectly still and just twothree inches away from going inside all the way he sinks against Jared’s hips, taking him fully with a low, needy moan that seems to last an eternity. 

“Please… move…” he moans, while Jared still holds Jensen’s hips and stares. Just stares in awe.

He really did it.

Jared can’t believe it’s really happening, that he feels so close to someone, again, finally, after such a long time. As he doesn’t start moving, Jensen rolls his hips back and forth, his back stretches and his hands clawing in the blanket. He just fucks himself on Jared’s member, doesn’t wait any longer and the moans he utters are - there is no other word -- they’re downright vulgar. It shows how much he lets go and it washes Jared away, his fingertips dig into Jensen’s hips as he meets his recruit’s pace. Now Jensen cries out, the words and moans just drop from his lips, he wants more, and Jared can feel how greedy he is. 

The audience around them is a choir of pleasure sounds, each of them takes Jared up so high he feels like he’s more than drunk. More than high. He feels like he’s elevating.

“Jared… Harder!” 

Jared fucks him harder. Jensen around him stretches and clenches like he wants to milk him dry, make him cum, but not now. It’s too good to let it end too early, he’s been starved too long and he wants to enjoy every second of fucking this angelic but oh so slutty adept. No one ever met his pace, wanted to be fucked harder and harder, no one asked to be sore, but Jensen does.

His moans are so loud his voice breaks and trails off, chokes on his own sounds. Jared loses it at this point, he grips in Jensen’s glossy hair and pulls him on his knees, closer to his body. Pounding his ass now makes beautiful wet sounds. Jensen leans on Jared’s chest and reaches for the prophet’s ass to push him deeper. And deeper.

“Can’t get enough, huh?”Jared growls, his hand in Jensen’s hair is pulling stronger, the other on Jensen’s hip holds him steady. “Want every inch of me?”

Jensen nods, sobbing. “Yes, never been fucked so good… just how I need --” He can’t even finish the sentence, Jared’s mighty deep thrusts make his voice fade into a cry. “Oh, God!”

Jared needs to slow down just for a bit, give himself time to breathe and hold back the orgasm that’s building up. He’ll shoot a massive load for sure, he wants it to be worth it. He bites Jensen’s neck and feels the violent shudder. They cling onto each other, hands in hair, fingernails scratching and leaving red trails. 

“No, no, don’t stop now… I’m so close,” Jensen huffs, turns his head to Jared, their lips meet and Jared kisses him until both are too breathless, too close to be gentle or patient. 

When Jared picks up his pace again it’s only a matter of a few seconds until Jensen cries out and sinks back on all fours, hiding his face in the blanket. He doesn’t have to touch himself to cum, with a loud and guttural sound he spills. And spills. It’s such a mindblowing orgasm. Everything about it is perfect. Jensen’s moans, how he pulls out handfuls of grass. His clenching asshole around Jared. The amount of cum he splatters on the sheets. Jared bends forward, pulls Jensen’s face up and turns it to the crowd.

“Let them look at you,” he hisses, “share the love.”

And then Jared cums, grunting and thrusting as deep as he can. His cock pumps and pumps masses. He’s never come so hard, so long, so satisfying. For a couple of seconds he doesn’t know anymore where he ends and Jensen begins, that’s how good and intimate it feels. Jensen’s tightness squeezes him tight and makes it impossible to move or pull out. 

Jared collapses on Jensen’s back. He’s dizzy. He needs a moment.

Around them the noises turn from moans to grunts. Heavy breathing. Jared gestures to the watchers to stop jerking. He wants to have Jensen for himself for another moment when he pulls out. Jensen winces underneath him but his face just shows blissful exhaustion. Jared loves to watch his cum pouring out his partner’s holes and it’s no different tonight. Not after this divine intervention. Not after he’s been blessed with such a partner. 

It’s a lot. Jensen turns his head to Jared, his face puffy and red, strands of wet blonde hair on his forehead. And now there’s the hint of a smirk. 

“Did I do well?” he asks.

“I think you know…” Jared replies.

His hand strokes Jensen’s still half hard cock and Jensen moans. So sensitive. Next time, Jared might return the favor and suck that pretty cock.

“Your brothers and sisters want to show you how much they enjoyed watching you.”

Jensen looks around, then back to Jared.

Now the smirk is undeniable. 

“Let ‘em come.”

Jared gets up, his muscular body beaming in the light of the moon and embers of the fire. He feels like he’s about to rise above anything and anyone. This union has given him the deepest peace he could ever feel. He still feels painfully hard and when he looks down he still is. His glossy cock perks up, but he won’t take Jensen a second time and risk really tearing him apart. 

Jensen is on his knees, arms stretched forward like a satisfied lioness, sticking out his freshly bred ass to the audience.

“Children. Time to welcome Jensen in your midst.”

Alex approaches Jared to wash him off with a fresh wet cloth and a sponge while the others gather around Jensen. No one touches the recruit, after Jared united with him, but he will be showered in attention and much more.

Two days later, Jensen is still a bit sore. 

He didn’t sleep much on the night of the celebration, he’s been too hyped, too high from the rush of alcohol, adrenaline and sex. Especially the sex. He can still feel Jared’s massive pole in his ass and everytime he gives in to the memory he shudders and feels his white robe tent. 

Everything in this commune is white. The community houses in which the members live, white. The Church, white. Jared’s residence, white. The only thing that seems to be different is the massive wooden chair in which Jared sat during the celebration and watched his followers unify. 

The blankets are white, the towels, the plates. Purity is an important pillar of this group, and everyone who’s not familiar with the customs might argue that collective orgies aren’t really pure, but Jensen knows better already. Purity is based on keeping your body healthy. The diet here isn’t vegan, but the community has their own farm. 120 people need food and water. Most of them live and work here. On the farm where vegetables and fruits are grown seasonally, or they take care of the cattle, pigs and chickens. Others help keep the houses intact. 

Days are warm, the nights are pitchblack, there’s a lake and a river closeby. Women wash the clothes of the community. There is no “mine” and “yours” in the Church. There is only “we” and “us” and “our”. 

Jensen has his own room, because the morning after the orgy, after the morning prayers and morning sports, in the great hall at breakfast, Jared proclaimed that Jensen was indeed heaven sent. Chosen by the Angels. That makes him special enough to have his own room for a while and it helps him acclimate in this environment. Most new members need that. They come from their picket fence life in the suburbs or the pulsing lives of a big city. They had day jobs, night jobs, family, addictions and almost everyone of them has been materially wealthy. 

Everything that keeps them away from living a pure, devoted life with God is taken away here. Jared provides everything they need. 

Some take a week to find their place in the community, some struggle for years. Some pack their bags as soon as they realize that the sense community here also consists of freedom in love, friendships. Children are born in this community and are raised by everyone, not only their genetic parents. No one here claims to own someone or something.

Well.

At least they say so.

Alex’s room is - as it’s appropriate for his position - in Jared’s residence. This morning he decided to cut his shoulder long, honey blond hair and trim his long beard.

Purity doesn’t mean to be shaven clean or have short hair. Purity comes from the heart, free will and the ability to love. Alex doubts he is quite pure at the moment. The community is free of the toxicity of a material life - in the community, you don’t aspire to climb up ranks. There are simply only three ranks. The community, Alex, Jared. Jared is their natural leader, it is supposed to be like that. Alex is chosen. Alex is confident.

He was. His heart is full of love for the cause and for Jared. 

Until a few nights before he looked in the mirror every morning and smiled at his reflection. Because the reflection showed him a confident young man of faith. Full of love, not bound but blessed with free will. 

Then, his heart started to hurt. 

Now he hates his blue eyes, he hates his long hair, he hates the beard. He hates that he isn’t able to provide Jared the one thing he ached for.

It feels like an inconsistency of Jared’s teachings. Or Alex just isn’t at the point of enlightenment he always thought he was. He finds the fault in himself rather than Jared. But he likes it most thinking that it’s Jensen’s fault.

Jensen with the dazzling green eyes that tantalize Alex. And his damn ability to merge with Jared. Something no one in the community ever could provide. 

Alex hates that someone other than him satisfies Jared in any way.

When he looks in the mirror he sees the man who came here all these years ago when Jared’s predecessor was still alive. The man who crashed here after drugs and sex addiction ruined his life.

Growth is something that never stops. And any day you don’t work through your struggles puts you one step further away from divinity and back into the life of materiality and toxicity.

Jared mustn’t know.

Alex stares blankly in the mirror while he shaves his beard off. Completely.

It takes a few days generally for the community to calm down after such a night. Jared knows that. He feels sore himself, but in a good, satisfying way. His community is thriving, they have new members. Fresh blood. The prayers are inspiring. Jared insists on holding the divine services all by himself. These days he’s beaming with love and the rich and satisfying feeling of being connected. This is Jensen’s merit. His sensuality, his sexual aura, everything about him reminds Jared of the Archangel Michael, the fiery son of God who guarded Eden. Everything about Jensen seems to set Jared on fire. And not only Jared. The others feel it too. The women, the men, everyone stares when he passes. It takes Jared a lot of introspection, prayer and exercise to not just drag him back in his bed. Jared is known for being considerate, kind, and balanced. He leads these people on their path to God and divinity, he is their idol. The true Vicar of the Holy Father. Preferring Jensen in his first month here would weaken his own strong will. He’s sure this man is sent by his Father to heal his hurts, but he needs to care for his community first. 

Jared must not be selfish. He obeys the Lord and he will follow His guidance wherever it may take him. When he knows that his community is safe. 

After morning’s prayer and exercise Jared retreats to the communal bath. Alex prepared everything like always. He’s shaven clean and his hair is way shorter than before. While Jared sinks in the hot tub, Alex hesitates to accompany him. He looks bitter. Some of the old worry lines reappeared. Jared makes an inviting gesture.

“Come in, Alex.”

Today, Jared notices, it sounds like more than an order. 

Alex first shakes his head, but then looks up and his face softens. The lines disappear. He undresses and joins Jared for a bit.

Jared pulls him on his lap, it’s unusual for Alex to be physically distant. He recognizes his assistant has a razor cut on his chin. He runs his thumb just right under it and Alex inhales sharply.

“Why did you shave your beard?” he asks.

Alex looks away, bites his lip. His tooth gap is adorable. 

“I didn’t like it anymore.”

Jared frowns. 

“Do you doubt yourself?”

A scoff. Jared knows he just hit a nerve. Alex never scoffs at him.

“It’s just hair,” he replies. Now he even sounds a bit defiant. 

“Alexandros.”

Alex stiffens. Jared has a habit of calling him by his full name when he fucks up, just like a mother would.

Jared cups his face and looks straight in those bright blue eyes and he sees the vulnerable boy that Alex still is. His progress is phenomenal, but part of him will always stay in the darkness he escaped. 

Alex writhes but doesn’t honestly struggle against him. 

“Your looks are not important. Be careful with your heart.”

A faint nod. Jared kisses his forehead, then his lips. Suddenly no writhing, no defiance, no stubborn behavior. Alex is pliant. Good.

“I have to go”, Alex mumbles, “I have to prepare our departure to Seattle… Our original flight was cancelled…” 

Jared nods. Actually he has no desire to attend this event, but as the leader of this religious community, he has to fulfill some duties. Like going to charity events. It’s not that he hates charity, quite the contrary, as a son of God, it’s his pleasure and deepest wish to make the world a better place, but he hates the whole attention. He hates being compared to apocalypse cults or worse. His teachings are as pure as they can get under given pretenses and the struggle of humanity to overcome the Great Tribulation. 

Alex knows. “I know you don’t want to go. But I will make it worth the trip.”

“You always do.”

Alex gets up with slightly shaky legs and a very impressive erection. When he jumps back in his clothes he even turns away. Suddenly he is so shy. When they’re back from Seattle, Jared will have to hold some very intense prayer and service sessions with Alex. He seems in need of healing. And that’s what Jared was chosen for. Provide for people like Alex.

Alex isn’t gone for five minutes when Jared hears a shuffling behind him.

“Did you forget something, Alexandros?”

Someone’s clearing their throat and it’s not Alex. When Jared turns around he sees Jensen standing in the entrance, blushing and looking at his feet.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to… umm, am I disturbing you?” 

Jared’s face lights up and he turns around fully, crossing his arms on the brim of the pool. Jensen is in his white robe, bread crumbs along his collar. He probably just ate breakfast. His hair is messy. 

“Not at all,” Jared replies, “usually, I don’t have guests when I bathe but you’re welcome to join today. You’re new, you can’t know.”

Jensen frowns. “Alex doesn’t count as a guest?”

“No. He is wherever I am, unless he doesn’t want to be.”

Now Jensen’s eyes glow. 

“Like now?”

Jared grins. 

“You are a cheeky one, aren’t you?” he asks.

Jensen stands there, looking at him like he’s about to say ‘yes’, but ultimately doesn’t. 

Jared gestures. “Come in already.” 

Ruffling of clothes tells him that his recruit followed his wish and now gets undressed. A moment later Jensen slides in the water beside Jared, about an arm’s length away. His cheeks turn pink.

“Are you well?”Jared asks, just as the caretaker of his people, he is always worried about them. Always ready to provide care if needed or wanted. 

Jensen’s teint turns even brighter. Ah. The orgy. It was surely his first time.

“I mean, I think I got a little rough with you there,” the leader admits.

Jensen shakes his head a little, a shy smile and a dreamy gaze show that Jensen might indeed be well. It would be reassuring to hear it though.

“No, no, it wasn’t rough at all but I would lie if I said I don’t still feel you inside me. It was a very world-shaking experience.”

“Uh-huh,” Jared replies, “it was.”

The memory alone makes Jared’s body fill with a need to do it again. Just right here. His pliant and slick body, how hot and tight and damn, how responsive and eager he was to take his cock. And that he succeeded!

Jensen turns to him, comes a little closer to get in touch, physically and Jared is very fond of the idea to have him close. Without a word, Jensen’s hand under the water’s surface, lays a hand on Jared’s thigh. Very close to his member. Flaccid. Yet. And still very big. Jared knows he’s gifted with this large cock and people who can take it, they won’t want anything else after they’ve tried it.

“I wondered, why, umm, everyone treats me like I’m super special, you do too…” Jensen’s eyes are fixated on the tiny waves his hand causes when he strokes along Jared’s thigh. “What makes me special?”

That is a very interesting question and Jared needs some time to think about it. Take deep breaths. It also shows that his new member has not ingrained all of the lore of the Church of Grace. That’s normal. No one knows it by heart after joining so recently. 

“Being special is a gift from the Lord, my Father. Everyone is special in their unique way. Take Alex. He’s devoted and tough, loyal and very good at organizing things. Ruth and Judith, you probably crossed their paths already, they’re the best cooks I’ve ever been blessed to taste. Also they are very skilled in sculpting. Everyone is special. Some special things seem to be common, like, so many people on this Earth are talented cooks, tailors, musicians, yogis. And you, you are special, because you give me a feeling of unity in such a primal way, it may seem succinct or superficial. What is it worth, being able to take me? It might not be special to others, but to me this is a thing that brings me peace. And this peace, I can multiply, share it with my people. And by the Lord, it’s not only your physical perks. The way your brothers and sisters here look at you. Some are jealous, but most see in you the most important addition to the community in years. You have a spark in you and you will do great things for the Church. I’m sure of it.”

Jensen stares and Jared notices the slight squint of his deep green eyes. His utter beauty is a gift to humanity already. He radiates purity. If he knows that?

“Is that understandable for you?” Jared asks. He lays a hand in Jensen’s neck and gently squeezes. Pulls him closer. Just an inch but it’s enough to feel Jensen way better and catch his vibes. 

“Yes, it is,” Jensen says, “I’m glad this community welcomed me, I’m glad I met you.”

Now he wraps his hand around Jared’s shaft, which is still too much and he won’t be able to embrace it completely. 

“I was worried, I am worried, it will be the only time to be close to you.”

“You will be close to me every day. At the service, at the monthly celebration. We share everything here.”

“But, can I be alone with you, just like now?” Jensen huffs, his grip tightens. Jared is just a man, his body reacts and he grows hard, so big that the tip would break the water surface now if Jensen let go. 

“I’m a man of my people, I will not deny you. To be honest, yes, I invite you to be with me.”

It would be so easy to lift Jensen up and let him sink down on his cock. It would be amazing to feel him right now. But he is still a little sore. Complete physical unity has to wait. 

“Jared…” A sigh. “What you made me feel that night… I think I felt closer to my true self than ever.”

“I’m glad this is helping you. There will be a lot of occasions for you to discover your deepest self, your fears, your worries… Everything will come to light and I know, you will overcome, you will shine and rise above your plain human being.”

Jensen’s hand moves now. He knows how to touch a man, strictly physical. It's a mechanical reaction after all, but when Jared looks deep into these green eyes he discovers his own need and how much he suffered without a mate that would be close to him. 

“Tell me, how do you like it… I feel it, I need it… you need it…?”

“I long for it.”

Jared wraps his hand around Jensen’s to guide him with the strokes.

He wants it to build up slowly, and his hand on Jensen’s neck holds him steady, whispering his instructions to keep eye contact, when to slow down and when to get faster. And Jensen is all in with it, he’s passionate, his tiny moans and curses, just from seeing Jared, make it extra hot. Actually Jared doesn’t need to climax here, because the mere anticipation of his partner is more than satisfying. They sink in a kiss when Jared’s instructions turn into a breathless staccato of ‘yes like that’s. He’s noisy when he comes and jerks in Jensen’s hand, forceful first but rapidly turning lazy and soft. 

“Teach me more,” Jensen whispers, his face burning red, making his freckles pop even more.

Jared's head sinks on Jensen’s chest. 

“About what?”

“About, what you like, how you like it… how we… connect… unify… Physically, I know… I can do that,” Jensen bites his lip.

“But you don’t know how it works spiritually?”Jared asks, placing a kiss on Jensen’s freckled shoulder. 

“Is that a stupid question?”

A headshake. Why should it be? But Jared knows, Jensen is insecure, he longs for answers and guidance. 

“Believe me, you didn’t ask a stupid question so far. You crave unity?”

Jensen nods.

“Just like you do.”

“I would love to show you more of it. But I will have to go to a congress in Seattle in three days. Alex and I will be gone and you’ll be on your own for a couple of days,” Jared replies. There is indeed some longing in his voice. 

“Oh, that is… it will be long and I’m new, I…”

Jared clicks his tongue while he combs Jensen’s hair. “You don’t have to worry, everyone will take care of you. They will do what I’d do. You will be shown around.”

Jensen shakes his head. His muscles stiffen just lightly.

“That’s not my worry, but- I wish I could be with you.”

This causes Jared’s eyebrows to raise. He wants to be with Jensen, too. Show him the world that Jared lives in and help with the settling. It’s hard to find a place in a community. Jared also fears (and hopes) that Jensen found a way in his heart.

“You are with me. And you will be. You belong to the community now.”

Jensen winds.

“I mean… could you… I would like to go to Seattle. With you…”

“And Alex,” Jared corrects.

“And Alex,” Jensen confirms.

There is no reason to say ‘no’, but there is also no reason to say ‘yes’ that is justifiable. Jensen is new. But he’s shown commitment and he wants to learn. They would bond. Jared wants it. Badly.

“Will it put your heart at ease when I say yes?”

Jared smiles and it’s a knowing one. Jensen smiles. He also knows. 

“Yes, it would.”

The way Jensen smiles and blushes is cute, maybe a little staged. Jared’s not an idiot, he knows that Jensen is wooing him. Trying to impress. Wants to appeal. He already does, there is no need to be overly pliant. Jared enjoys the attention though, who would judge him for it? He presses a kiss on Jensen’s lips and their hug turns closer, just like the last minutes of touching didn’t exist. Jared wouldn’t complain about that, either. 

“Thank you,” he utters before he can think it through.

“For what?”

Jared squeezes Jensen’s growing cock. 

“For giving me - peace.”

Peace is not the only thing Jared wants to thank his disciple for, but Jensen’s soft moan drowns any further thoughts. He wants to merge. Now. He doesn’t want to wait. Not for them to be in his room or Jensen’s. Just take him here.

Alex listens to the quiet conversation that turns into moans and splashing, Jared’s deep and ground shaking grunts. He would be a big fat liar if he claimed to be untouched by it, even Jensen’s soft noises make him rock hard. But what he feels in his heart and what he feels in his body, these two things diverge wildly from each other. He shoves a hand in his pants and hates himself for it. But who he hates more is Jensen. He will take Jared away from him. 

That mustn’t happen.

Alex has to do something about it. Soon.

[cherry-valentine]

Summer 2021 Anime Season

What I’m Watching:

Shinigami Bocchan to Kuro Maid is one of the cutest, sweetest series I’ve seen in a while. The plot sounds rather dark, following a young duke who has been cursed by a witch so that anything he touches, from plants to animals to people, will die. Touching through clothes has the same effect. This naturally isolates him, to the point that his own family have shunned him and he’s forced to live in a separate home out in the woods, with only two servants who are kind (or crazy) enough to stay with him despite the danger. One is an elderly butler who takes on a fatherly role, and the other is the beautiful, busty maid named Alice. And this is where a show that could have gone really dark brightens up to an adorable romantic comedy. Alice is not the least bit afraid of the duke’s curse, and her teasing, cheerful disposition practically forces him to open up. Speaking of Alice, I really enjoy the way her character is handled. Just as the show could have gone dark, it also could have gone sexist and gross. Alice is very busty, as I mentioned, and the show does have some fanservice, but the WAY this fanservice is done makes all the difference. Alice is a flirty character who always seems to be an enthusiastic participant in whatever fanservice we see, rather than being an object to be leered at. She’s very much in control of her body and her sexuality, which I appreciated. Also, there’s a lot of restraint on display here. There are so many ways they could have ruined this by going too far, but they didn’t. The fanservice is restricted to some cleavage shots and Alice occasionally flipping up her own dress to display her stockings. It comes across more as “sexy fun times” than “male gaze oggling a woman”. Because Alice is an interesting and well-written character in her own right. On the surface, she’s unflappable, facing a dire situation with limitless patience and optimism. But we get a few small, brief glimpses of the emotional toll it all takes on her, which is refreshing. The duke himself is a fun character, forever flustered by Alice’s antics but clearly not wanting her to stop. There are some amusing side characters as well. The animation has been criticized quite a bit, as it’s CG. It’s not the best looking CG animation I’ve seen, but it’s far from the worst. For a simple, cute show like this, it’s fine. Recommended if you like romantic comedies with a somewhat dark setup.

Vanitas no Carte is based on a manga by the woman who did Pandora Hearts, so you have some basic idea of what you’re getting into: extravagant period costumes, gothic European scenery, dark and violent themes mixed with goofy humor, and a very complicated web of character relationships. This series features a vampire society that’s being plagued by “curses” which turn the vampires into mindless beasts that can only be saved by mercy killing them. That is, until a human named Vanitas shows up with the power to cure the “curse bearers” using a legendary book that most vampires doubted the existence of. He teams up with Noe, a kind and naive yet physically very strong vampire who has been tasked with finding said book and determining whether its power is real. The result is a bizarre buddy comedy with touches of gruesome violence and gorgeous art. Of the two protagonists, Noe is my favorite. He’s sweet and good-natured, naive but not stupid. He has a disturbing back story (as most of the characters do) but he can still look at the world with excitement and wonder. He also has a hilarious and adorable cat named Murr. Vanitas, on the other hand, is an insufferable asshole. And I don’t mean in the fun way. I mean he literally makes the show hard to watch when he’s onscreen. I normally like the smug bastard types in anime, but Vanitas really pushes the limits of my tolerance. In an early episode he forces a very deep, very long kiss on a woman he has rendered immobile and unable to defend herself, groping her all the while. I found the scene very troubling, and was even more troubled when I read the comments on the episode, almost all of which calling the kiss “sexy” or “hot” or, worst of all, “romantic”. It’s extremely obvious that the woman did not want or enjoy the kiss, but aw, she was all blushy and embarrassed afterward, so it was a cute scene, right? Ugh, no, gross. The woman, named Jeanne, was established as a very powerful, badass vampire. Yet she’s quickly reduced to a red-faced, crying mess by this absolute garbage character sexually assaulting her in front of several other characters. The whole scene was so bothersome I almost dropped the series entirely, because Vanitas never faces any consequences for this act. He just grins smugly after it’s over. However, I kept watching because, aside from Vanitas, the show is amazing. The art and animation are breathtaking. The plot is highly interesting. The characters, Vanitas excluded, are compelling. And then we have Noe, who is pretty much the opposite of Vanitas. Honestly, if Vanitas was the only protagonist, I would have dropped it, but he’s one of two. So... recommended, but with caution. Your mileage may vary on how much Vanitas you can stomach.

Heion Sedai no Idaten-tachi is.,. not something I expected to enjoy. It has a visual style that reminds me of Kill la Kill, a show I absolutely loathed. The overall vibe of the show is a little off-putting for me, but somehow I got myself hooked on it. The basic set up is that, hundreds of years ago, giant monstrous demons roamed the earth. All the gods of the earth got together, defeated the demons, and sealed them away, leaving one young god named Rin behind to watch over the seal and train newly born gods to fight, should the seal ever be broken. Flash forward to the present day, where Rin has only been able to train a very small number of gods because most of them can’t handle Rin’s absolutely brutal training (it mostly consists of her murdering them over and over and letting them regenerate, as they’re essentially immortal). Unfortunately, some demons have come back, and they’ve taken the appearance of humans. This revelation motivates some of the younger gods to resume their training with Rin. And that’s about all I can say for the plot without getting into some bizarre subplots. There’s a lot I don’t like about the show. I’m not crazy about its cartoony look given the subject matter. I don’t like that there’s basically a whole subplot that revolves around human women being repeatedly raped (side note: rape is never graphically shown, though it is made extremely clear what is happening and we see the lead up to it, also this is a rather small subplot that gets little attention after the first episode). And I absolutely hate that a character involved in this subplot, who encourages it, is presented as a character we should actually like. But! There are some things I really enjoy about it as well. I think the setup is really cool. The gods, and their role in the world of the story, are super interesting. They’re practically indifferent to humans, not even taking the slightest bit of interest when one country invades another and slaughters innocent civilians, because to them, it’s like a human intervening when one animal fights and kills another in the woods. So long as humans aren’t completely wiped out, they don’t get involved. Which is a neat concept. I also like the battles, which are frenetic and a blast to watch. And I totally love Rin, who is just a straight up badass in every single way. She’s one of those ridiculously overpowered characters we sometimes get in anime, most of which are usually male. Rin is so absurdly powerful that other absurdly powerful characters are terrified of her to the point that the mere mention of her name triggers panic attacks. Watching her fight is pure joy. Also the music is great, with an absolute banger of an opening theme. Recommended if you like wild, imaginative action anime and aren’t triggered by rape.

Carry Over Shows From Previous Seasons:

To Your Eternity Boku no Hero Academia Shaman King

Best of Season:

Best New Show: Shinigami Bocchan to Kuro Maid

Best Opening Theme: Heion Sedai no Idaten-tachi

Best Ending Theme: Vanitas no Carte

Best New Male Character: Noe (Vanitas no Carte)

Best New Female Character: Alice (Shinigami Bocchan to Kuro Maid)

[suitofvibraniumarmor]

Headstrong

Part Two

Summary: Their first training session goes well ... but ends on an awkward note.  Pairing: Bucky Barnes x OFC Word Count: 1840 Warnings: Nudity (in words only, ha). A/N: Taglist is open, you can be added to the one for this fic or Buckvember simply by sending an ask. Happy Reading!

PS: This GIF is not technically applicable to this chapter, but it seemed a good excuse for Seb tummy porn. You’re welcome. 

Series Masterlist

They started the very next day with an early morning run. Bucky hadn’t run in a while, and it was nice to have Haven with him to push him a little further than he thought he could go. 

“You’ve stayed in good shape for being out for a year,” he congratulated before downing half the contents of a water bottle back at the gym behind Haven’s house. 

She nodded. “I didn’t want to lose momentum. I got my pro bid right before the — right before I got hurt. It wasn’t something I was going to pass up or miss out on for too long.”

“I like your determination. Finish off that water, then let’s do some drills.”

Haven nodded and did as she was told. She went for her wraps on the shelf and started to do them herself, but Bucky intervened. 

“Lemme help,” he offered. 

“I’ve got it,” she shrugged. 

Bucky shrugged, too. They were going to need time to get to know each other and be comfortable with each other, he understood that. While she finished wrapping, he tossed off the gloves he had been wearing while they ran, and the hoodie he’d had on, too. A couple of minutes later, Haven approached him next to a large punching bag. She nodded toward his left arm. 

“Quite the prosthetic, coach.”

Bucky cleared his throat and nodded but gave no more acknowledgment to her comment. “All right. You ready?”

She took her stance — a little rusty but muscle memory had her mostly in position. Bucky helped her adjust, apologizing when the cool metal of his prosthetic arm sent her into a small shiver. He got back behind the bag and nodded. 

“We’ll throw combos first,” Bucky informed her. “Pretty basic today, I’ve got to catch up on what you can do, so I know how to coach you.”

Haven nodded her understanding and listened carefully to the combos he called out, executing them with the same intensity she would in a fight. Bucky was impressed. She was in the middleweight class, he knew, but he had no doubts she could hold her own in fights with girls twice her size. 

After combos, they got into the ring. Bucky gave her some footwork warm-ups to do while he wrapped his own hands and pulled on some gloves. Maybe he didn’t need it for his left hand, but with equipment like that, he figured it was better to be safe than sorry. 

After a few hours of training, Bucky could see that she was waning. She didn’t seem the type to speak up when she needed to stop, so Bucky took them through a cool-down, then dismissed her for the day. 

“Good session, Coach. Thanks.”

Bucky nodded. “You did good today, I’m impressed. No reason why we can’t push off from where you are and make your first pro round a championship.”

“You think so?” Her eyes lit up like Bucky had yet to see. 

“Yeah, absolutely.” He hung up his gloves and worked the wraps off of his hands. “I’m going to go grab some lunch, do you wanna join?”

Haven stopped abruptly. “Oh, actually, I — I have plans. Thanks, though. I’m sure you’ve got your own place, but there’s showers back here, if you want to clean up before you head out.”

She rushed for the back to the locker room, leaving Bucky to finishing packing up the equipment that had used to practice that day. He wondered if he had done something wrong to make her … what? Intimidated of him? Dislike him a little? Could be that it had nothing to do with Bucky. 

Maybe it’s the arm, his mind offered. Bucky shook his head, forcing away the negativity. He’d had a prosthetic for a while now, and since getting this latest one, he had grown accustomed to people’s reactions to the strange technology. Hell, even he’d had to get used to the newest arm when the doctors first fitted him with it. Wasn’t a bad thing if Haven needed to get used to it, too, he supposed. She would come around.

Picking up his bag, Bucky fished his phone out and called Steve to see if his friend was available to meet for lunch. 

“Yeah, I’ve got time. Meet you at Wanda’s in an hour?”

“Perfect, see you there.”

Disconnecting the call, he pushed into the locker room and shoved the phone in his bag. About the time he looked up was about the time Haven looked up from drying her legs and shrieked. 

“What the hell?! Get out!” she exclaimed, scrambling to cover the good bits with her towel and retreating behind a tiled wall. “What are you doing in here?!”

Bucky had already slapped his hand over his eyes and was stumbling against the wall, fumbling for the door handle so he could leave. “I’m so sorry, I just — I was on the phone, I didn't think about knocking or anything.”

“There’s a men’s room!” 

“Yeah, wasn’t paying attention,” he called out, finally finding the door handle and liberating himself from an extremely embarrassing situation. 

His shower would just have to wait — not a chance he was staying on the property a second longer than he needed today. 

Bucky dropped into a booth at Wanda’s cafe and asked for a cup of black coffee. The redhead smirked. 

“Rough day in the gym, Buck?” 

“Rough day in the locker room,” he sighed. “Steve’s joining me, better bring a water for him.”

Wanda nodded and went to retrieve the drinks. Having skipped the shower, Bucky arrived early enough before Steve, he was on to a second cup of coffee before his friend arrived. 

“I’ve got exactly fifty-three minutes,” Steve informed when he dropped into the booth. He called out to the counter, “I’ll have the usual, Wan. And a cuppa.”

“Me too,” Bucky added. “Big case?”

Steve nodded, taking a long drink from his water. “Yeah, we’re on a hot lead. I’m waiting for SWAT to get back to me so I know if I can go question my guy.”

Bucky smirked. “Well, don’t let me take too much of your time, Detective.”

“Ha,” Steve snorted, “please take my time. Especially if it involves you out in public. How’d the first session go?”

Bucky licked his lips. “She pushed me during the run, which was good, though. Training today was mostly figuring out where she’s at after being out for a while from any serious training.”

Steve narrowed his eyes. “And what else?”

Bucky looked around to see who was within hearing distance, then leaned forward on the table. “I was on the phone with you, I wasn’t paying attention. Walked in on her naked in the ladies’ locker room.”

Steve choked on the first sip of his coffee. He recovered after a moment, dabbing at the coffee now staining his navy blue tie. “I’m sorry — naked? Your first day coaching and you walked in on her naked?”

“I did,” Bucky confirmed, blowing out a deep breath. “After that, I rushed out. I’ll be lucky I don’t get a call tonight not to come back tomorrow.”

“Oh, Buck,” Steve laughed, apologizing for his reaction, “I’m sorry, I just — naked. Wow. What a way to start out a new job. Was it worth the mistake?”

Bucky rolled his eyes. “Is that really important?”

“You tell me,” Steve smirked. 

“Yes, it was worth the mistake,” Bucky sighed, leaning back to give Wanda space to deliver their food. “She’s — I mean, she’s fit as it is, she’s a boxer. But yeah, she’s gorgeous.”

“Who’s gorgeous?” Wanda asked. 

Steve motioned to Bucky. “This new girl he’s coaching. Bucky accidentally walked in on her naked after their practice today.”

Wanda put a hand over her mouth, but it didn’t help much to stifle her giggles. “Try not to picture that every time you go back. Have you told Charlotte or Nat about this yet?”

“C’mon, let’s not spread the word,” Bucky groaned. “It was an honest mistake!”

But Wanda’s fingers were already tapping out a message on her phone. Steve was still smirking, even as he shoved bites of salad in his mouth. Bucky had a half-sandwich and a bowl of soup in front of him, but he suddenly felt not too hungry. 

After she dressed, Haven waited at the locker room door to see if she heard any sounds in the gym. 

“I’m coming out now. I have clothes on,” she called. 

As it turned out, Bucky wasn’t in the gym, and his car was gone from the driveway. Haven tossed her dirty clothes in the hamper in the laundry room, then went to start a load before putting together a lunch of leftovers from the night before. 

She ate alone at the kitchen table, contemplating what had happened and trying to figure a way to get around it when they saw each other again. She was still thinking it over when Wes came in from a training session with one of his clients. 

“You’re deep in thought,” her brother noted, drinking milk from the jug in the fridge. 

“You’re an animal,” she returned. “So … something happened with Coach Barnes today. It has the potential to make things real awkward, so I’m trying to decide if I’m going to face it head on or act like it never happened.”

Wes put the milk back but leaned on the open refrigerator door. “Well, tell me what happened, I’ll help you decide what to do about it.”

Haven thought about it. “No, I think this one might be better for me to handle on my own.”

“Just tell me, punk.”

She shook her head. “Nah, it’s too weird.”

Wes let the refrigerator door close before going to the table and pressing his cold hand to the back of his sister’s neck. Haven yelped and tried to wrestle away from him, but even once his hand warmed up, he was tickling her until she begged for mercy. 

“I was showering after practice, in the locker room, and he was — I don’t know how the mistake was made, but he walked into the wrong locker room.” She left it at that, hoping Wes could fill in the blanks. 

“Oh,” he frowned, still putting the pieces together. “Oh. He saw everything, didn’t he?”

Haven sat back down and put her head in her hands. “Yep, pretty sure. About a hundred percent sure it wasn’t on purpose, but … yeah. Awkward. So, so, so awkward.”

Wes did his best to hold back his laughter, but it was mostly to no avail. “Oh, sis. I don’t even — yeah, I don’t think that’s something you can just pass off like it didn’t happen. You’ve got to talk to him about it. After he saw all your goods, I don’t think your strictly-professional approach is going to go far.”

“Was afraid of that,” she sighed. “I’ll call him later on, see if he has time to meet. Might as well deal with it before practice tomorrow.”

Buckvember: @peace-love-hobbitness​ @disastersoldierbucky​ @connie326​ @rebekahdawkins​ @wonder-cole​ @shynara51​

Headstrong: @disastersoldierbucky​ @ashleymalfoy​ @amanda-teaches​ @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan​ @tanelle83​ @tellmewhatyouwill​ @capandbuckylvr​ @pinknerdpanda​ @mizzzpink @ntlmundy​ @siggy85​ @itsallyscorner​ @m-blasterrr​