#its just that THEY see it as less superior and so they just talk down to it and bash it lmao

[psychotrenny]

The thing with 9/11 is that no one cares that much about the death and destruction itself. Buildings fall down and people die all the time, including in the US. Like at the height of the COVID-19 pandemic you had entire 9/11s worth of USamericans dying on a regular basis. If all that damage was caused by an earthquake or faulty building practices or whatever, there wouldn't have been nearly as much fuss about it. It's not as if the insane response from US population was a matter of "two building fall down"

The reason why 9/11 was so upsetting to the US population was their widespread feelings of Imperialist Chauvinism and the subsequent outrage at seeing it so openly and violently defied. The US was at the height of its Imperialist power at the turn of the millennium, a hegemonic superpower that was dominant in some way over more or less the entire world. Whether they'd phrase it in such a way or not, most people in the US were very well aware of this; as far as they were concerned the US was truly the greatest country on the Earth. For some this was a point of pride, for others it was a simple fact of the world. This made them feel secure; bombings and mass killings might happen in those "shithole nations" of the earth but it couldn't happen over there. The US military could wipe entire cities off the map and like maybe that was good, maybe that was unfortunate and maybe it meant nothing at all. Either way that was normal; the violence flowed from the Core to the Periphery.

Until one day it didn't. One day a group of people from that Periphery, from some shithole group of nations, struck back. Now the sorts of destruction they'd seen on TV were happening right outside their window; the US got the smallest taste of the sort of brutality they had long inflicted on the rest of the world. And they did not like that taste at all. The US people as a whole went mad with grief and rage, not at the death of any people but the death of their sense of unquestionable safety and superiority. And the only hope of getting that feeling back was to inflict a revenge so terrible that no one would dare resist or retaliate again.

If bloodshed was how they'd built their empire, only more bloodshed could keep it safe. And this time they didn't even have to feel bad about it. It's not as if the US empire had ever given the world any peace, but now they had the perfect pretense to escalate it to levels not seen in decades. If they talked about this isolated and comparatively limited attack as though it was some great invasion, the US government and its supporters could take all the moral high ground of "self defence" even as they slaughtered impoverished peoples on the other side of the world. So it made sense to treat the 11 September attacks as though they were the greatest tragedy of all time. 9/11 didn't break the US psyche, it just made them express it in a more shameless way. It's not as though genocidal Imperialist violence was anything new to the USA. Afghans were just the new Apaches; the "Middle East" a new "Wild West"

[iovetecchou]

Circumstances ⧸ Aki Hayakawa.𖥔 ݁ ˖

summary:  Trapped inside the hotel that has been taken over by the eternity devil, your superior: Hayakawa Aki, is the only comfort you've found. As the days go by, you find yourself seeking more than just comfort from your usually stoic leader.

༞ Contains...! smut, porn with a slight plot, and a sprinkle of fluff, only one bed trope, virgin!aki, inexperienced!aki, touch starved!aki, consent, dry humping, handjob, pussyjob, no penetrative sex, pillow talk, confessions, overall very soft and clumsy, the reader lovingly teases aki throughout the entirety of this fic

༞ AFAB Reader.

༞ 3,064 words.

kinktober masterlist!

It had been days.

Days; since you first stepped foot inside this forsaken hotel with your unit. Your Captain, Aki, was the only individual keeping your crew from losing their minds. Although, Kobeni was way beyond saving at this point.

You tried to stay optimistic, putting your trust in your Captain. You had no reason to doubt him, anyway. You admired Aki. If he asked you to follow him blindly, you would.

Aki always made you feel safe; it would be a lie if you said you had not fallen for him.

You admired every version of Aki, but your favorite side of him was the one only you got to see. The Aki who helped you get stronger, never giving up on you even when you stumbled and screwed up. The Aki who would go out after a harsh mission and eat almond tofu with you. The Aki that allowed himself to smile when he was in your presence, letting himself forget about his trepidations. Even if it was briefly before you witnessed the sorrow creep back into his cerulean eyes.

You could not help but feel as though Aki might have a soft spot for you. He always requested to be stationed with you on assignments and spoke highly of you to Miss Makima when you did exemplary work.

So when you got paired up to share a room with the captain himself, you could hardly contain your excitement.

Arai and Kobeni were in shambles, so Power locked them in a room together. She laughed menacingly on the outside from the sounds of them wailing and shrieking. Power and Denji took the next room, unintentionally pairing themselves up. You could hear them bickering through the thin walls before it got quiet. Ultimately, assuming that Denji must have fallen asleep.

And then there was Aki and yourself.

You would be lying if you said the prospect of sleeping in the same bed as your crush didn’t excite you, just a little bit. You knew it was wrong, considering the situation was less than ideal. You secretly wished your first time sharing a bed with Aki would be under better circumstances, but there’s no time like the present.

You could’ve sworn you saw Aki's cheeks flush when he noticed there was only one bed before he blurted out,

“I’ll take the floor. You take the bed.“

A frown etched its way into your visage, coming up with a solution to change his mind on the spot.

“But, Mister Hayakawa, I think it would be safest if we stuck together and stayed as close as possible. Who knows what the eternity devil might do next? It might try to separate us, so we must have eyes on one another at all times. That’s why we all paired up in the first place, right?”

You watched as he lit a cigarette, inhaling deeply and holding it in his lungs for a few beats before ultimately exhaling with a sigh. You could tell he was thinking over your proposition from the way his eyebrows knit together.

“Alright, you have a point. But only if you are comfortable with that.”

Your eyes lit up as he agreed to your proposal. You turned on your heel, making your way toward the messily made bed. Trying to conceal your grin from Aki.

“Of course I’m comfortable! You always make me feel safe, Mister Hayakawa.”

Aki's cheeks dusted a pretty pink from your words. With your back still turned, you kicked your shoes off. Shrugging off your blazer before rolling up the sleeves of your white button-down. He took another drag of his cigarette, making slow strides toward the bed. Aki propped his sword against the nightstand before unbuttoning his suit jacket. Trying his hardest not to overthink resting beside you.

“I will only need a few hours until I am back on patrol, but I want you to get as much rest as possible. I will try my best not to wake you when I leave.”

All you could do was nod in agreement as you lifted the covers, making yourself as cozy as you could; regarding the circumstances.

You turned on your side from beneath the sheets, observing Aki as he put his cigarette out. He slipped his shoes off, lifting his side of the duvet before crawling underneath. He was as stiff as a board as he rested flat against the bed. You could tell he was nervous, and you were not sure if it was because of the proximity or because of the devil, which was still at large.

“Mister Hayakawa, are you okay? You look a bit tense.”

Aki let out a deep sigh. He turned his head slightly so that he could glance at you before he spoke softly.

“It’s just… I want to make sure we all get out of here alive without having to sacrifice anyone. Defeating this devil, getting the gun devil chunk, and making sure you get out of here unharmed, are my top priorities.”

You felt your cheeks heat up from his words. To learn that Aki prioritized your well-being in such a way made your heart flutter.

“Don’t worry mister Hayakawa! With you being our captain, I have no doubts that we will succeed in all of those departments. Also, don’t feel like you need to bear the burden on your own. You can lean on me, I promise.”

Your words forced Aki’s chest to tighten. You put so much faith into him, and knowing that you believed in him to such an extent eased his mind. For the time being.

Aki took in a deep breath before sitting up swiftly. He reached over toward the lamp resting atop the night table, tugging on the copper string. Enveloping you both in complete darkness.

“Thank you… Now get some rest. I’m sure we have a long day ahead of us,”

Aki whispered, turning on his side to face you. A tight-lipped smile pulled at his lips before he finished his thought.

“And one more thing, you don’t need to call me Mister Hayakawa while we’re on the job. You can always call me Aki. You know that, right?”

You watched as he tucked a hand under his pillow for support, adjusting slightly to let himself slump further into the bed. A small giggle slipped past your lips from his words before you retorted,

“Of course, I know that! I just figured you liked it when I addressed you as Mister Hayakawa. I mean, considering how your ears turn a pretty shade of pink when I do.”

You teased. Inching yourself closer to your superior from where you lay atop the mattress. Practically sharing the same air at this point.

“Hey, cut that out.”

Was all Aki could blurt out before he turned his back toward you. He silently thanked the darkness for shrouding the room, concealing the rosiness that painted his face.

That didn’t stop you from shifting impossibly closer. You pressed your chest against the expanse of Aki's back, closing the distance between you two before letting your arm sling around his hip.

“I’m sorry, Mister Hayakawa… I didn’t mean to tease.”

Your voice laced with faux innocence. But Aki could hardly focus on the words you spoke only moments ago. The feeling of your arm wrapped around his midsection and your chest pressing into him had his brain short-circuiting.

Physical affection was not something Aki was used to by any means, and the fact that you were the one touching him made his head spin even further. Aki felt comfortable with you. He cherished the time you spent together, more than he let on.

“Yes, you did. Do you take me for one of those idiots over in the next room?”

Aki huffed, trying his hardest not to twitch when your fingertips trailed over his clothed abdomen. You scooted up the bed slightly; so you could rest your head atop Aki’s shoulder. Lips ghosting over the shell of his rosy ear before you whispered out,

“Of course not, Mister Hayakawa. You are clever, way better than the others. In every aspect.”

Your hand trailed lower, fumbling with the clasp of his belt. You heard Aki’s breath hitch as you pulled the leather out of the buckle.

“What are you—“

“Like I said earlier, you seem a bit tense. Let me help you, Mister Hayakawa.”

His heart was pounding against his sternum. Aki could feel his hands shaking as he remained silent. You could tell he was way beyond nervous.

“I’m sorry. I’ll stop if you are uncomfortable.”

You whispered, slowly retracting your hands from around his waist. What you didn’t expect was for Aki to turn in his place, coming face to face with you once more.

“No it’s not that… i-it’s just…”

You could barely make out his expression in the darkness, but you could feel his hand trembling beside you. Your hand crept down to grasp his arm, placing his large palm atop your waist.

“Why are you shaking so much, Mister Hayakawa? It’s just us.”

The way that nickname rolled off your tongue made his head fuzzy. He could feel the warmth of your skin seeping through your shirt.

“Is this what you want?”

Aki took a shaky breath, trying to collect his thoughts.

“I…”

His voice was quivering as you two shared the same air. Another moment passed before you whispered,

“Do you want me to stop, Aki?”

His breath hitched. You said his name, finally. Aki’s heart was beating a mile a minute as you slowly started to pull away.

“N-No… don’t stop.”

That was all the conformation you needed. You could hardly contain your excitement as you pressed your chest flush against his in one swift motion. You hoisted your leg around his waist, pulling a low grunt from Aki.

Now you understood the reason behind Aki’s trembling; he was hard. You could feel his erection pressing up against your clothed core from the new position.

“Ah… I’m sorry—“

Before Aki could finish his sentence, your lips were on his. His cerulean eyes were blown wide at the sudden kiss, but he wasn’t complaining.

Aki thought about this moment countless times your lips colliding with his. But never in a million years did Aki think your first kiss together would be under these circumstances.

You deepened the kiss further, swiping your tongue across his bottom lip. At first, Aki didn’t get the hint, but when your pelvis ground down against his aching cock, he couldn’t help but let out a whine.

The moment his lips parted against yours, you slipped your tongue past. Tangling with his appendage slowly, letting him get used to the newfound intimacy. Aki was still shaking, you noted, as your hand came up to unbuckle his belt; for good this time.

Aki only pulled away from your lips when he felt you unzip his pants, tugging on the waistband of his boxers.

“W-Wait… I’ve never…”

Aki could feel the perspiration trickling down the side of his neck as he swallowed the lump in his throat, adams apple bobbing in the process.

“I know, and it’s okay. You don’t have to be embarrassed about it, Aki. I want to make you feel good, and I promise I’ll go slow.”

You muttered against his lips, slipping your hand through the hole in his boxers. Aki gasped against your lips as you seized his needy cock. Gently pulling his length through the cut-out of his underwear.

“Is this okay?”

You asked, halting in your movements. You placed a small kiss on Aki's nose as you awaited his response, being as patient as ever with him. Aki nodded fervently before whispering,

“Yes… more— please…”

Aki’s plea sent heat rushing to your core. He was too precious, and who were you to deny him?”

Your hand slowly began rubbing his leaky cock. There was so much pre-cum coating the head of his dick; making it even easier to glide your palm along his twitching length.

“Does this feel good?”

You picked up the pace ever so slightly, letting your thumb circle around his ruddy tip.

“Fuck— yes, so… so good…”

Aki’s head fell forward, now resting his forehead against yours as you continued to stroke his cock.

“Better than when you do this to yourself?”

You asked earnestly, reveling in the little whines and whimpers that slipped past his lips.

“Mhm…”

That was all Aki could muster out. He was too drunk off the pleasure you granted him. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt this good. Your hands worked him so carefully— so tenderly. For the first time in a long time; Aki allowed himself to forget his worries. He allowed himself to succumb to you entirely.

You could feel him throbbing in your hand. You knew he was nearing his end. Aki’s perspired forehead stuck to your own, his breath was warm against your lips. You couldn’t help but clench around nothing at his silent pleas of,

“Please, don’t stop… feels s-so— good…”

Quickly, you removed your hand from around his length. Your leg unhooked from around his waist for a brief moment as you fumbled with your belt. Swiftly pushing your pants and panties down your legs before kicking them off from underneath the covers.

“What are you—“

“Shh… don’t worry, I’m not stopping. I want to try something different, just trust me on this… okay?”

Your hand came back up to Aki’s waist. Slowly, you pushed his trousers and boxers down his thighs, letting his cock spring free. His length slapped against his tummy. Aki hissed at the friction, harshly swallowing once more as your leg came back up to wrap around his waist.

“O-Okay... I trust you, Y/N.”

With that, your chest came flush against his once more. Only this time, your slick pussy grazed along the underside of his throbbing length.

“S-Shit…”

Aki cursed, suddenly feeling overwhelmed; at the feeling of your essence coating his cock. You were so warm and wet. He could hardly contain his moans as you began grinding against him. You moved your hips slowly at first, rubbing the most sensitive parts of his length with your drooling slit.

“Does this feel good?”

You huffed. You began to feel dizzy from the intimacy Aki and yourself shared. You whined as your clit rubbed against him so perfectly. Your slick allowing you to glide against him with ease.

“T-Too good!”

Aki cried out. His hand around your waist tightened as he began aiding you in your movements. Thrusting you impossibly closer to him. Adding even more pressure against your puffy bud. You both moaned in unison. Grinding against each other with more intensity than before.

“I think… I’m…”

Aki could hardly finish his train of thought. Too wound up in the heat of the moment. You soothed your hand over the small of his back, continuing to hump into Aki before you whispered,

"I know, baby, let it all out."

Your tender words sent Aki spiraling. His release crashed down on him faster than he could process. Before you knew it, Aki was the one kissing you. He whimpered against your lips as his first ropes of cum shot out past his slit.

The feeling of his cock twitching and throbbing against your clit was enough for the coil within your tummy to snap. You gasped against his lips as you came. Your movements staggered, still trying to work Aki and yourself through your orgasms.

A few moments passed before Aki finally pulled away from your lips. He took in a deep breath as his hand clenched and unclenched around your waist. You assumed it was a form of self-soothing for Aki.

"Are you okay?"

You asked softly. You trailed your hand up Aki's frame, slotting to cup his face instead.

"Mhm… are you? Did you… enjoy that?"

Aki's words were hesitant. You could tell he was immensely unsure of what this now meant for the both of you.

"Of course I enjoyed it, Aki. I've been dreaming of a moment like this with you for ages now. I just… I'm sorry, I wanted to properly do things with you. But our lives are so complicated,"

You paused, caressing his cheek with your thumb softly before letting out a deep sigh.

"Aki… I truly adore you, I always have. So, now you know. I figured since there's a high possibility of us dying here, I might as well lay it all out on the table. I mean, we did just hump each other like a couple of dogs—"

"Ah, stop right there."

Aki's eyebrows scrunched up at your crude words. He felt embarrassed all over again.

You could not help the giggle that slipped past your lips. Aki was too adorable for his own good. He was such a gentleman, another thing to tack onto the list of 'things you love about Aki'.

"Sorry, sorry! I wish it wasn't so dark in here, I bet the look on your face was priceless."

You teased, bringing your hand back down to encompass Aki's waist before nestling your face into his chest. Your leg was still wrapped around his hips, pulling a small grunt from Aki when you closed the distance between you both for the last time tonight.

"Hey, at least let me get you a towel so I can clean you up. It's a… mess, down there— because of me."

You smiled against his chest before a yawn passed over you. You slipped your hand under his shirt, smoothing over the small of his back before you whispered,

"Aki, relax! It's okay… let's get a little bit of rest before it's back to patrolling. I wanna hold you like this, just a little while longer… Please?"

His heart ached at your words. Aki would give anything to stay in this moment with you forever. His hand tightened around your waist, keeping you snug against him before ultimately letting out a sigh.

It only took you a few moments to knock out. Aki smiled to himself as your little snores filled the room. He tried not to mind the sticky sensation coming from below as he placed a kiss atop your head. Finally, he allowed his droopy eyelids to close before whispering,

"You could be such a brat at times… you know that, right? But, that's just another thing I… love about you."

[lana-llama-in-pajamas]

Milkman (Francis mosses) x fem! Reader

Thick as blood

Sweet as milk

Ah yes, you. The new doorman. The DDD hired you for your attention to detail and ability to examine more than just physical detail but the way people talked, their actions even the movement in their eyes.

Dopples are horrible at those details, some are just straight stupid and don’t try

But today was your first day in the building fresh from training, the building didn’t have a doorman before so you were ready for confrontation and confusion

Your uniforms was meant to look friendly, with a DDD button the the left breast. the DDD issued you with a pistol in case a Dopple did get in.

The block has been notified and given everything they needed to get in. Now it was your job to make sure they were safe

The day went slow no one coming in till lunch, you were not given one but you were allowed to eat whenever suited you

Soon tho a very happy woman came by…she had heterochromia at first you assumed dopple before looking at her papers

Right Nacha Mikaelys . Everything checked out as you studied her taking notes in your head, she smiled seemingly unaware of what was happening “how’s your day so far?” She asked looking through her purse, possibly for her keys “going well, I’m y/n your new doorman” you replied passing back her papers “have a good day ma’am” she nodded taking them back “pleased to meet you y/n see you tomorrow “ Nacha waved and walked out of sight

You got up from your chair to walk around your small office, you fix up your uniform as you hear someone come up to your glass panel. It was a milkman..? you raised your eyebrows at him. He didn’t look quite surprised to see you. He slid his papers into the slot and waited. You grabbed the papers and looked up and down at them. You then looked up at him and studied his features while trying to talk to him. “Hi I’m y/n the new doorman pleased to meet you, Mr. Moses.”

“Mm…pleased to meet you y/n”

Oh god. You blushed! What a schoolgirl

You slid the papers to him quickly looking down “all is in order, good day sir” you almost stuttered before looking back up at his dark tired eyes “good.” He walked off not noticing your sudden change in tone.

Oh god he sounded like a night time soap, deep and soft. you could listen to him read a chapter book and hang on every word, a phone book would sound sexy! And his eyes! Ugh you would kiss them if possible! You let your blush stay as you fell head over heels for a man that spoke 6 words to you (I counted) another person stood before you, before you could even greet them you stopped in your tracks

It wasn’t human. Its face was a drawing taped to it. No mouth but it spoke “allow me in please”

You softly pressed the urgency button as you slid out your gun. You could hear the dopple screech and writhe behind the glass and metal shutter while you called your superiors “I have one” you spoke sternly not wanting to show any fear “on the way” the triple D officer spoke. You stood back pistol in hand breathing slowly to calm down soon though the screeching stopped and the metal shutter lifted revealing a man in a yellow suit “dopple eliminated. Good work” he walked away with 2 others carrying a body bag.

You shivered placing the weapon back in its place you were glad most of those things were dumb but it made it no less horrifying

Your mind raced as you thought about the two things that just happened to you almost simultaneously first having a girl crush on a milkman and now almost getting killed by a stupid Dopple

Your immediate thought, as you sat down and tried to organize to calm your mind was, how does a milkman live in a building with such high earners ? How much does a milkman make ?you pondered looking over the files of residents

After introducing yourself to a couple of other residents, the day ends, and it’s time for your shift to end as well.

One Dopple the rest human honestly the best you could hope for on a first day, the other thing you could look forward to is that because you do work in this building, you can live in the building for way less rent than everybody else, you picked up your items from the desk and made sure everything was clean before you left and lock the door behind you no one was allowed to leave or enter the building after 10 PM unless of course it was an emergency, but they would be escorted by DDD officer at the front of the building 

You took the elevator to your apartment “F05” the old landlord room, it used to be boarded up but the DDD had it refurbished for you, still looked a little dingy but ultra cheap rent for a 2 room apartment was worth it

You opened the door but jumped a little hearing another door “oh” you heard the deep voice looking to your left, Francis in a white wife beater and a cardigan. He has a cigarette in his fingers unlit “oh sorry you startled me goodnight Mr.mosses” you tried to excuse yourself quickly but to your surprise he spoke up “I didn’t know you lived here, actually I didn’t know there was a 5th apartment” he finally lit his cigarette taking a long drag (it’s the 50s) you nodded hoping to clear his confusion “ it was boarded up in the early 40s, it’s called a lord suite. a place for the landlord to stay in case of quick repairs or whatever else may happen” he listened rather intently taking the cig out of his mouth, god did you want him to ask you to take a puff just to indicate something “oh…I remember those really fell out of fashion huh?” He asked passing the half done cancer stick. You screamed in your head agreeing with him and taking in the smoke “well enjoy, I need to sleep” he walked back to his apartment almost slamming the door, was he mad? He didn’t indicate anger or distrust, you finished the cigarette and smudged it out on your stove placing the butt on the counter almost contemplating about saving it… you were weirding yourself out a bit but came back to.

You did as all necessary and got ready for bed

You dreamt of Francis sitting on the roof with you holding you close both of you in your uniforms as you kissed him deep and hungry begging for more in your movements you felt him move down to bite softly at your ne- TRRRIING TRRING

your alarm clock yelled at you a few more times before you could slam your hand down on it groaning and streaching “god I am down bad”

End pt 1

I know but the game is set in like 1955 America but it gives me such Soviet vibes 

[songsofadelaide]

prism — a side story to cosmic.

cw: captain narumi x (f) platoon leader, established (secret) relationship, fluff and smut, takes place between iv and v of cosmic. no use of 'yn'. narumi gen is his own warning. minors do not interact.

wc: 3k

You were no stranger to an observant eye. As a Platoon Leader, you were subject to your superiors' watchful surveillance and your team members's discerning gazes. It came as no surprise to you when the Captain of the First Division presented you with an upgrade to your beloved personal weapon, the submachine gun marked FE-0080 or Reginleif and asked for you to demonstrate your marksmanship that brought Asakusa's scorpion-type Honju to its knees.

So you acquiesced to your Captain's command and joined the rookies in their shooting training. You didn't back down from a posed challenge, after all, and you impressed your platoon members and fellow Platoon Leaders once more with your precise marksmanship. 

When Gen first took notice of your personal weapon, he surmised it was specifically made to pair with your speed. Anything heavier would weigh you down. Reginleif was a submachine gun made for more close combat offensives and had less firepower than a machine gun or a rifle, but it made up for its lack of strength with its speed and automatic mechanism.

"Unleashed Combat Power is at 67%."

As you finished setting a record for the rookies to beat, whispers from other division members filled the air. 

"The Platoon Leader's super quick, huh? It's almost like she vanishes into thin air."

"She even beat Platoon Leader Tachibana during the joint training exercises between the Eastern Divisions. That's how Captain Narumi discovered her."

"Speaking of which, she and the Captain have been spending a lot of time together..."

Gen himself didn't notice the amount of time you two were spending together. It was lost to him, but the memory of his enjoyment remained— you coming to see him, summoned or not. One day, your presence simply became natural, like a second instinct, until it became a necessity, especially for him.

You sitting next to him in his office, sometimes as Player 2 but most of the time just plain old you. You in your tracksuit uniform with nothing but a white tee underneath. You mindlessly scrolling through your social media while he stormed through whatever game he was playing, warming his bed until you had to leave him— whether it was due to an emergency or just because the day had ended. The sound of your laughter and derision filled his office and he can't seem to snap out of his compulsion to steal the rest of your sound straight away from your lips. 

He signalled for the end of the shooting training after the rookies concluded their rounds and dismissed everyone for the rest of the afternoon. 

"Captain Narumi, sir," you called out to your superior, who had just finished checking the Operation Leader's report handed to him by your Vice Captain. 

"Platoon Leader."

"One of my team members is celebrating their birthday today. They're planning a short trip to the city for drinks this evening," you started as you shadowed Gen's steps back to the base's main hall. "As much as I would love to finish our Maelduin's Portal campaign from earlier, my platoon would appreciate being able to spend some time with me, and I with them. I hope you're amenable, of course…"

He wanted to disagree with you but didn't want to come off as increasingly needy, especially since he knew now that people were already talking about how much time you've been spending together. Was he being needy? 

"Enjoy the rest of your evening, then."

Because he certainly didn't.

Your platoon arrived back at base a little before 21:00 and the first thing you wanted to do was take a dip into the baths because you were certain you smelled terrible— a smorgasbord of alcohol, barbecue smoke and cigarette ash, no thanks to the old smokers seated next to your group's long table.

But Gen had other plans in mind that derailed your quick trip to the baths. 

A single notification lit up from your mobile phone as you placed it on the desk in your personal quarters. 

[ N. Gen-隊長: I'm outside your room. ]

"Captain Narumi?" You quietly called for him, a tender smile on your face as you opened your door for him. "Did you wait for me all this time?" 

Gen smelled like he just got out of the bath, ready to go to bed, while you still smelled of smoke and alcohol. Still, he didn't think twice before embracing you, which you hesitantly returned. 

"I still smell like alcohol…" You murmured into the crook of his neck as you gently played with the hair on his nape. "Pretty sure I taste like it, too…"

"I don't really care…" He murmured before diving in for a kiss. Sure enough, you tasted like an evening out, the bitter taste of beer still lingering in your mouth. 

"Hey," you said as you gently broke your kiss. "You might be fine with this, but I'm not. I-I mean the way I smell. Please, Gen, let me take a quick bath. I promise I'll be back in five— no, ten minutes. I'll be back and let's pick up where we left off, okay?"  

Not even the grumble that left his lips could stop you from grabbing your basket of toiletries plus a change of clothes and leaving him for a bath you promised would be quick. 

It was only in the quiet that he realised it was his first time here in your personal quarters. It's always been you visiting him in his office but rarely did you invite him over— for reasons now clear to him. 

Your room was incredibly bare, even for a Platoon Leader. Apart from the standard furnishings provided by the Defense Force, nothing in that place anchored you there or made known to others that it was your lodging. You kept no trinkets or little decorations, and on your desk sat your mobile phone, which even had the default wallpaper on. 

It had no passcode, either, and he found himself there aptly named 'Captain Narumi Gen' when he took a peep at your messages. All the people in your phonebook were properly labelled and addressed, such as your parents, your elder brother Kanata and his wife Marie, your squad leaders Akabane, Kagomura, Ookawa, and your fellow Platoon Leaders. 

You kept no notes, even fewer photos, and Gen was filled with this awful dread that you'd leave no trace behind if anything ever happened to you. His thoughts were soon replaced by a wave of comfort when he plopped down on your bed. "At least your pillows smell like you…"

He almost nodded off too if not for your arrival. You were still a little damp from your quick soak, your skin still warm and balmy as you shut your door behind you. "Are you still awake, Captain?"

"Yeah, I am. S'impossible to fall asleep here in your room," he said as he sat up again, quietly observing the way you neatly stashed your belongings in your single closet. 

"Really, now? I'd expect you to get a good night's rest here since I have a proper bed and all," you chuckled at his response. "Or are you so used to sleeping on a futon that a bed's uncomfortable for you?"

"No. Your bed… smells like you," he stated, a hand sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck this time. You were fresh out of the bath, still practically buzzing with warmth, and it made him uneasy in an exciting way. "It's…"

"Is it nasty?" You asked as you made your approach. You were in similar standard white shirts and black sweatpants and Gen visibly swallowed as you sat closely next to him. "Captain Narumi?"

"Don't… Don't call me that now," he grunted at you, his lip trembling in anticipation as you raised a hand to cup his cheek. 

"Gen…" 

Ah, his name sounded so, so sweet whenever it left your lips, but this time even more, and he was this close to stealing that sweetness himself if you hadn't scooched over to kiss him yourself. It was tender and affectionate and somewhat apologetic, tasting of green tea mouthwash this time, until you broke away from him and stuck out your tongue to lick the corner of his mouth.

You did it in such a teasing manner but he couldn't even smile— because he was already so, so hard. He pulled out his erection from under his sweatpants and guided your hand to it, his breath hitching as he felt your warm fingers curl around his length and stroke him at a leisurely pace.

Though you couldn't see his eyes, you were certain he had a heady, cloudy, half-lidded gaze on you. He followed your steady movement with bated breath as you got down on your knees and placed yourself between his thighs. 

"Doing it here in my room has its advantages," you told him as you started stroking him again, your breath ghosting over his length. "No one's gonna come in here unannounced…"

Gen let out a low hiss when you flicked out your tongue and slowly licked the tip of his cock, taking all the time in the world to do so. 

"Ggh… S-Stop it already—" He grunted yet again, and though he told you to stop, it was clear he meant otherwise by the way he had a guiding hand on the crown of your head. "Ugh…"

Hearing the sound of his voice dipping and straining in pleasure encouraged you to do even better for him. He shuddered as you gradually received him in your mouth. 

…Maybe he did find a way to tame that smart mouth of yours after all. 

The pace of your blowjob was pleasant, but you knew he was close by the way his thighs closed around you. He tried to wriggle away from you, but you shook your head at him and gently picked up the pace, your cheeks hollowed out as you sucked on him a bit more. 

He took your refusal to let him go as a sign that you'll receive his seed in your mouth, so he obliged you, his body convulsing as he held your head in his hands. A low, guttural moan he obviously tried to suppress escaped his lips as you swallowed his cum, thick strings stuck in the back of your throat, and you eventually released him with a soft 'pop' from your slightly swollen lips. 

"My good girl," his praise was caught between his soft exhales. He pulled you up into his arms and allowed you to tenderly sweep back his hair that curtained his lovesick gaze. 

"You're so handsome," you told him with a smile, your fingers gently toying with the hair on his nape once more. Gen adored being the recipient of such compliments, even more so from you, but he still gets embarrassed from time to time. He's red up to his neck now, his hands warm on your waist. 

"My good girl," he said yet again, his wine-coloured eyes holding your own heady gaze. One hand wandered underneath your shirt while the other dipped under the waistband of your sweatpants, deft fingers rhythmically running over the moistness between your legs. His lips curl into a teasing smile as your expression fades into one of pleasure.

He was already hard again, but he didn't want to be so greedy. Neither did he want the night to end so soon. He did away with your clothes, all similarly and carelessly tossed aside as he motioned for you to lie down on your back for him. A glint of mischief lit his eyes as he placed himself between your legs, lowering his face to your thighs, peppering them with light and faint kisses before he eventually opened his mouth to taste you. 

Another rapid rush of pleasure shot through your body as he gripped your thighs and happily ate you out, playing deaf to your impatient whines as he leisurely and unhurriedly licked and lapped at your folds.

"Tell me what you want, my good girl," Gen whispered, his low and lazy voice hot against your sopping pussy. He already knew what you wanted by the way you ground against his mouth, the burning sultriness between your legs threatening to overflow onto the rest of his face. He slid a finger knuckle-deep into you and thrust at what he believed was an agreeable pace given the sound of your moans, which you were trying your hardest to suppress.

His fingers were skilled and reached the places you never could on your own, but you needed more. "P…"

"If you tell me, 'please put it in my pussy', then I'll do it."

Oh, you wanted to hurl so many complaints at him, but your impatience already showed in your countenance and he was clearly enjoying this. "Well? Hurry up and say it."

"M… My p… ah…" You pathetically whimpered at him, your voice cracking as he broke into another crooked grin.

"Use your words, my pretty girl. I can't really understand you."

Tears welled in the corners of your eyes as you relented to his teasing, your legs quivering at the leisurely pace he's taken. "Please… Please put it in my p-pussy…!"

It didn't take long for Gen to take charge after hearing you plead for him so earnestly. He was already as stiff as a pole, anyway, so he angled himself over you and slid his length over the burning wetness of your pussy before thrusting into you. 

The pace he moved at was gratifying for you both, the sound of your whines was enough of a confirmation for him. 

"Ah…" You coiled your arms around his neck, trembling at his warm touch, his calluses rough yet ticklish against your skin, especially when he sank his fingers into the plushness of your breasts. "Gh…"

Why does it feel like this? You managed a thought as he fucked you deep into your sheets and mattress, the sound of your soft moans and his pleased groans filling the air in the room. You knew you'd be dead if someone else heard you, but you couldn't consider being considerate now— because he's s-so good…!

Gen's bangs fell over his eyes again, hiding away the blissed-out look on his face. He knew it didn't matter that much to you anymore and neither did it to him— because all he could think about at that moment was burying his cock deep into you— fuck good manners and propriety!

You were seeing stars now, his pace slightly rushed and rough and it could only mean that he was just as close to finishing as you were. "D-Don't… don't stop…"

But he knew he had to. He was smarter than this. He knew he had to pull out. You couldn't afford to— at a time like this, too! 

Yet in between his blissed-out euphoria and common sense was a single thought: a family. With you. Your stomach round with a child that was a heap of trouble like he was—

"P-Please, Gen… I'm so close…!"

He snapped back to his sweet reality— your walls tightening around him as he thrust with even more urgency this time. 

"Cum for me, then, my good girl," he managed to chuckle at you. You choked out another small cry as tears filled your eyes again in a wave of oscillating pleasure, your spasms making it difficult for him to pull out as he intended. 

"Y-You can cu—" 

Gen pulled out of you panting the moment you were about to say he could finish inside you instead, opting to spill his scorching cum all over your stomach. He caught his breath before flicking his middle finger on your forehead with all his tender might. 

"Ow! Wh-What was that for?!"

"At least let me put a ring on you before you ask me to cum inside ya!"

"You didn't have to hit me that hard."

"It wasn't even that hard."

A large bandaid was spread over your forehead where your boyfriend last exacted his violence on you. Your quiet breakfast for two at the mess hall the following morning was cut short when Eiji sat next to Gen with his breakfast, along with a clean folder that contained only two sheets of paper.

"Good morning, Narumi. And the Platoon Leader, too. Once you're done eating, I'll need you two to fill out these forms," he stated as he handed you one of the sheets with a header in bold letters that read Workplace Relationship Disclosure Form.

"O-Oh," came your slightly startled reaction as you realised what it was. You placed down your utensils and read the information that had to be filled out. "S-So, do I write 'boyfriend' here? This is so embarrassing…"

"The hell do you mean it's embarrassing? Are you embarrassed to be with me? Embarrassed that I'm your boyfriend?!" Gen yapped at you as he filled out the form handed to him. You were shocked to see him filling out the paperwork himself, even more so when he wrote 'fiancée' next to your name. 

"If there is anything to be embarrassed about, it's keeping your fellow Platoon Leaders awake at night because of your… raucous behaviour," your Vice Captain stated with a feigned cough, and though it was clearly addressed to you, his sharp gaze was directed at your Captain. "If you don't want the top brass to hear about this and mete out a punishment for you both, I suggest you refrain from doing it here at base."

"O-Of course, V-Vice Captain Hasegawa! It won't happen again!" You squeaked at the older man and gave him a stiff bow. 

Gen gaped at your quick surrender before eventually turning to Eiji, who had yet to start his meal. "Haa? We're actually doing important work here! They can consider this our attempt at preserving my lineage, Japan's Strongest— Ow!" 

The older man flicked his middle finger at the young Captain's forehead this time. "Since everyone's talking about you two anyway, let's give them more to gossip about. But I expect not to hear anything about it again starting tomorrow."

[starlightsigner]

Iced Avocado AU

coffee shop/alternate ending to Sonic 3 (movie spoilers) Shadow will find Sonic coffee in every universe <3

Two years after the end of movie 3 Shadow comes to Green Hills to fulfill Eggman's dying wish, deliver a message to Stone, who took up running the Mean Bean again

With no real plan or place to go after the message is delivered, Stone adopts offers Shadow a place and a job until he decides what he'd like to do next with his life

Taking him up on his offer, Shadow becomes Green Hills' newest barista

News travels fast in a small town and it doesn't take long for the Wachowski's to hear about who just moved into town

At first Sonic is just glad to know Shadow is alive, but he knows they could be friends if Shadow could just learn to chill and act his age -50 years

Shadow just knows that Maria loved life. She talked about the good in people and the joy of living. He hadn't seen much of it yet, and he didn't think he was going to see much of it in this small town, but his stay is just temporary. It doesn't matter that the people here aren't afraid of him, that the doctor's lovesick assistant treats him well, or that he's free to come and go and just BE as he pleases. He'll be gone sooner rather than later

If anything Shadow is starting to think that the longer he stays in Green Hills the worse off he may be. He thought Sonic's dad had forgiven him for the mistaken identity thing, but the more he hangs around the Wachowski home he cant help but feel his spines stand on end a bit when it's just the two of them. Not only that, but he's beginning to think this fresh mountain air is having negative side effects on him, why else would his heart start skipping beats whenever he sees streaks of blue?

Prologue

As the reactor core rapidly destabilizes Eggman knows he's out of time to tell the one person in the world who ever cared about him what his companionship meant to him, but as he prepares to go live he realizes the signal is to scrambled to even send out an audio file

Refusing to let his last words go unheard, he gives the file to Shadow, mumbling about how as improbable Shadow's survival would be he's come to realize how annoyingly resilient hedgehogs seem to be

After watching the Eclipse Cannon explode out of range of Earth's atmosphere, Stone sits in the streets of London, looking at another situation that no person could possibly survive. The last time he knew for sure the doctor would come back, this time he refused to acknowledge the part of himself that wasn't so sure.

What he did know for certain is that even though he'd been fired, he hadn't been cloned yet, and as long as he was Doctor Robotnik's assistant he would be sure that there would be an evil lair and a latte waiting for him when he returned

Meanwhile in an unknown corner of the world, Shadow pulls himself out of an impact crater, taking a moment to finally breathe before tracking down a man he barley knows on a planet that even 50 years later he knows even less

Two years later Stone's life is the closest to normal its been since before he joined Gun. Not everyone trusts him and most people still call him the 'weird bean guy' but that doesn't stop any of them from coming in daily or making the Mean Bean the top rated coffee shop on Yelp this side of Montana. It's only a matter of time before Cuppa Heaven falls to the Mean Bean's superiority, then the whole state will be his

While cleaning behind the counter after closing the locked front door rattles as someone tries to force it open. Stone calls out that they're closed and they can come back in the morning (he's got a date with a telenovela). The rattling stops and he goes back to cleaning his equipment

The cup that he was holding falls to the ground with a clang that's completely drowned out by Stone's shriek as a hooded figure teleports beside him

Before Stone can react Shadow removes his hood, complaining about how long his ears will be hurting from that

At first Stone is excited, if Shadow survived then surely the doctor could have as well! Finally a sign that he could be alright

But alas, not everyone can come back like in a soap opera

After receiving the doctor’s message Stone walks over to a table and pulls out a chair, absentmindedly also pulling one out for his guest

He starts musing about how the Mean Bean is where he set up operations to wait for the doctor to return after his last ‘hedgehog induced sabbatical’ so it felt fitting for him to come back here to wait out this one

Shadow asks what he means by wait it out, the doctor is dead. Stone just chuckles and slowly shakes his head, telling Shadow he'd be surprised to hear all of the impossible things the doctor had lived through, this was just the latest

Shadow eventually takes the empty chair next to Stone. He knows that the doctor is dead, he’s sure that Stone knows this even if he wont admit it, but he also can’t help but envy him. The doctor didn’t die right in front of him, he didn’t see the body. Even if the odds are a million to one, there’s a single drop of hope in an ocean of despair, and Stone has refused to let it be swallowed by the sea. As long as there’s a chance of ‘what if’

After a time Stone thanks Shadow for bringing the message to him and gets up to make him a latte as thanks, Shadow lets him know he'd prefer it black

As he works on the coffee he asks Shadow what he's been up to the past two years, about all it boiled down to was him looking for Stone. With no leads, little knowledge about Earth, and a need to stay out of sight, things went far slower then he was happy with

Well, what are you gona do now?

What indeed. Eventually Shadow looks down at his hands and admits that he doesn’t know. He had been so driven by revenge and then by the need to fulfill Eggman's last request (almost as if it were the start of some sort of penitence) that he never really took the time to figure that out. Without a goal, he’s found himself bereft of purpose

Stone stops to take a good look at the lost kid sitting across from him, maybe the doctor had sent him more than just a message

He offers Shadow a job at the Mean Bean, saying that Green Hills is a nice enough town and that while he’s more than able to run the place on his own it can get busy, humble brag but he had the best Yelp reviews for miles for a reason. + maybe a delivery service is what he needs to get the edge over Cuppa Heaven

He tells Shadow that he can think on it if he wants and he's free to hang around until he makes up his mind

Shadow scoffs at him, he's been fine on his own he doesn't need anyone's pity

Stone hands over the coffee before picking up the forgotten cup on the floor, cleaning it again. He tells shadow it's not pity, just an offer from one former coworker to another. A temporary arrangement that could benefit them both while Shadow takes whatever time he needs to decide what his next step will be

Shadow stares into his coffee for a time, Stone cant tell if he's looking for life's answers or if it owes him money

Eventually Shadow drinks and looks to Stone with conviction, agreeing to his proposal. He vows to do his best to serve this place that is to be his temporary home and master the ‘art of the mean bean’

Stone laughs at how serious he is as he puts everything away. He says that they’re gona have to work on getting Shadow to loosen up a bit if he’s gona serve customers

Shadow tenses at that. Asking Stone what he means, surely he can’t suggest that Shadow will be interacting with humans

Stone points out that that’s kind of a big part of being a barista, is that a problem?

Looking to the side trying not to appear apprehensive (boy needs acting lessons), Shadow brings up the fact that he’s very clearly a 'dangerous alien' won’t the people be frightened of him?

It clicks for Stone what he means and he smiles, walking over to Shadow and placing a hand on his shoulder, motioning with his head for him to follow

He tells Shadow not to worry about that, Green Hills is the one place on Earth where a new alien hedgehog will only be the talk of the town for a week or so before the next farmers market drama takes over as peak gossip

After a beat Shadow registers exactly what Stone just said “wait, what do you mean a NEW alien hedgehog?!”

Grinning as he walks away, Stone activates the Mean Bean’s ‘back room’ walking forward while saying that they’ll do a quick tour of the lair and get Shadow settled in

Stone thinks to himself that instead of ending the day with eating his feelings away with a tub of ice cream while watching soap operas, it might be nicer to watch Gabriella's long lost niece backstab (possibly literally if the preview was right) Juan with a new friend. He should make guac. Celebration guac.

Staring

Shadow, the ultimate barista

(no first name given) Stone, a man who is unprepared to be a single father to a Hot Topic wannabe

Sonic, guy who's cool until he starts trying to flirt (or the guy who would be on every sports team if he went to school)

Miles 'Tails' Prower, the youngest fox to illegally attend MIT online

Knuckles, volunteer youth camp counselor

Tom Wachowski, promised he wasn't going to intimidate his son's new boyfriend (he lied, but he's only about 40% successful anyway)

Maddie Wachowski, mom of the year 5 years running

[nightsunecilpse]

I feel like some of the fandom misinterpreted the Earth's and Luna's relationship. They either say they're little brother and big brother or father and son coded. I am not sure how your guy's families treat each other but that's not a family dynamic. The Earth treats Luna like a pet but he is also highly dependent on him. Like, have you noticed that Earth never calls Luna his friend, not once? But Luna says they are. During the moon Revelation arc, Titian even calls out the obvious power dynamic between the two. The Earth and Luna are in a codependent relationship, and I'll try to give examples of how.

Before the Earth redemption arc, Luna stated that "sometimes he makes me feel like I don't matter." After a talk with Astrodude, Luna leaves Earth, then comes back, and Earth demands Luna to go back to orbit because he's off his axis. Moon doesn't even care how Earth said it, he feels satisfied he has made his point. Earth only talks positively about Luna when he's bragging, and after finding out Luna is drifting away, Earth blames Luna. Earth was hurt hearing this but not because he likes Luna, it's because he wants his Earthlings to become a type 5 civilization. Having Luna is an important part of life, if Luna leaves, it will kill all his dreams and his earthlings. Even after they learn the truth and Luna tells Earth to enjoy the time they have left, Earth can't get over the fact that his moon is leaving and still blames him. Ignoring how Luna feels and focusing on his feelings.

For Luna, Earth is his closest friend but it's a complicated relationship. He has been seen reading a book called 'The Moon Is a Harsh Mistress'. The book is apparently about a colony on the moon that trades crops and goods for less than its worth. But it is not as if these people have a choice because they can't leave due to their bodies being affected by the moon's gravity and going to Earth after long periods will kill them. If that detail is referring to anything, it could mean that Luna feels as if Earth is giving him less than what he does for him in return. To Luna, the Earth means a lot, but despite wanting to leave Earth sometimes, he always comes back hoping Earth will change while knowing deep down he won't; post redemption arc.

Luna is more aware than any other celestial body that the Earth has been through a lot. It could be that for millions of years, Luna has been protecting Earth from any sort of danger, let it be emotional or physical. Side effects were Luna having to excuse Earth's behavior whenever he's messed up and being treated as a tool. It could be that Luna is aware of the gravity of Earth's situation and feels partially responsible for his actions. Like how he tried to apologize on behalf of Earth when he said offensive things to Titian or how he tried to save Astrodude from Titian because he's one of Earth's Earthlings. He did go to Earth to get him to fix the problem he made but Venus rejects Luna's advice and enables Earth's behavior. This doesn't stop Luna from trying to help Astrodude despite the insolent ways the planets talk to him.

Moreover, Luna is always looking out for Earth because he cares about him and wants him to be the good friend he knows he could be. He's seen him through his best and worst and still holds hope for him. I mean, Luna is so focused on Earth to the point he's not even familiar with Earth's orbital neighborhood. He would rather be with Earth than anyone else. He just wants Earth to treat him better.

On Earth's side of their relationship, he sees Luna as a reluctant necessity in order to keep life from dying. Admitting he was only starting to like him around because he had the best moon out of any rocky planet. He has a need to feel superior because, on his surface, life is constantly taking advantage of him. To him, dealing with all this pain makes him better because it means he's resilient. His earthlings' lives mean so much to him yet it's killing him. Sometimes he was willing to gamble their lives for fun and admitted he wanted to start over if things didn't get better. Being responsible for things smaller than you and them treating you like garbage, all the while still trying to be a good place to live really took a toll on his outside relationships. For Luna and him, it causes him to look down on Luna for being not like him. He values Mars for being the most like him; even if Earth is never open to his struggles and sees him as his lesser. Have it be Mars is his best friend. Luna's value is to be his shield and keep him on his axis. To him, Luna is less than a planet, so an inferior celestial body he can push around. However, without him, he becomes increasingly mentally unstable if left alone for long. During his hallucination, Luna is the one that hurts the most. When hallucination Luna tells him that he had enough, it has him in tears. Revealing his deepest turmoil between the two and his fear of abandonment.

Luna is Earth's most important relationship, and even after his redemption arc, he doesn't see that. Earth has been so comfortable with Luna's constant defense and loyalty that he doesn't even notice him. Yet when he's gone he spirals because he needs him to keep him stable. Luna has always been there through his best and worst, as said before, so suddenly, not having him there is like a piece of himself going missing. He is so emotionally dependent on others that when no one wants to be his friend anymore, he tries to end himself. He honestly thought everyone would be happier because his actions had caused a rift he thought he couldn't mend. Thankfully, Mercury and Luna stopped him and helped humble him, which in return helped his relationship with the other planets and Luna. However, Earth is treating Luna better, but it doesn't mean they're on equal terms. Earth appreciates Luna's importance but still doesn't involve him with the other planets' shenanigans, making him feel left out.

In summary, the relationship between Earth and Luna is one of mutual dependence. Earth, while dominant, relies on Luna to sustain life on its surface. Luna, in turn, plays a more passive role, accepting the kindness from Earth but also providing essential support. Their connection is crucial, preventing them from drifting apart. Although their dynamic may not be perfectly balanced at present, there is hope that they can strengthen their friendship and achieve a more equal partnership in the future.

[moodymisty]

Author’s note: This entire idea belongs to @bispecsual , who snapped my ass like Thanos with it at 3am. My eyes might’ve been burning, but I saw the light with this message.

Relationships: unnamed Lamenter/Gn!Reader

Warnings: You could say it’s a lilllll lewd, Blood/vampire kink stuff, Bruising

He looks so large even without his armor. He’s managed to find a moment of time to spend with you now that his round of duty is over, though he had to wake you up to do it. You don’t mind, but you can tell in his face that there’s something gnawing at him.

“You’re hungry,” You suddenly blurt out, looking up at him. He looks at you and his eyebrows raise with surprise, but he doesn’t deny it. He looks away briefly when you offer yourself once again.

“I’ve waited longer, I won’t so soon after the last time.”

You shift under the blankets to look more towards him.

“You don’t have to wait, it’s fine.”

He’s beating himself up in his head, you can tell. Berating his lack of restraint. You know from experience he fights it until he’s right at the edge of the cliff, and only then does he dare to ask. But you feel fine, and helping him is the least you can do. The Lamenters have done so much for you; He’s done so much for you.

“I’m fine. If you need it, take it.”

It seems the battle in his mind only concludes with your gentle insistence, and he moves closer to you. You watch as he slowly crawls onto the bed and his hand presses down by your shoulder. His gaze is intense and you can’t help but look away, exposing your neck at the same time.

He can see the little marks where he bit the last time, on their last few days of healing. As he leans in his hot breath brushes over them, as does his lips. He hesitates for a moment, and you think he might pull away, before he finally sinks his teeth in right below your ear.

The blanket shifts up your bare legs to your hips as your legs kick, landing just below your underwear. His knee presses down between your thighs precariously close to their apex.

His teeth shift in your neck and your fingers tighten on his shoulder from the twinge of pain, but his weight holds your upper body completely still. He doesn’t want you to move even an inch and risk hurting you.

You swear you can hear his hearts, his tongue lapping against your neck and wiping away the tiny beads of blood before he moves to bite again at your collarbone.

It tastes incredible. He’s been starving, his last mission ran him ragged, in his armor for 2 weeks with barely any rest, and your blood is like the finest wine. He’s never tasted wine, but he supposes must taste incredible, as your tone of voice had implied.

His eyes want to close, he wants to get lost in its but he knows he has to stop. It’s still so soon after the last time he bit you, he know he can only take enough to satisfy him for now. So that gnawing can finally get shoved to the back of his mind just for a little while.

You’ve already been so generous, he doesn’t want to wear it out. To take advantage of your rare kindness. He pulls away sees the bruising wounds of your neck, as he glances down at your inner thigh. He sees the fading marks of bites there, where he thought they’d cause you less pain. It caused something else however, and he vows not to do so again unless he can fulfill you afterwards.

He slowly lowers again until his head lays against your chest. Your fingers wrap in the short, messy chop of his hair. Your eyes are closed, but you still talk to him.

“I’m fine,” You whisper, knowing why he’s doing this. The assurance that you’re still alive and well. That he didn’t go too far this time. But sometimes you wonder if he’s becoming unhealthily attached to you. He depends on you in a way oddly enough; With his curse gnawing at him like a never-ending sickness. He’s implied before that his superiors might do something about it if he can’t keep it under control. If this saves him, then you’ll do whatever you can to protect him mentally while he physically protects you.

Because you’re the only thing that cures him; Your blood satiates the hunger and your presence makes him feel alive. The warmth of your skin against his own. The sound of your heartbeat fills him with relief that you’re fine, he didn’t lose himself for a moment.

“How can I repay you for your kindness?” He speaks quietly. You laugh.

“You don’t have to do anything.” He leans close to you and you can feel his nose barely brush against your own.

“I should. There are not many who would willingly give their blood to feed the Red Thirst.” You smile and your hand lands on the scarred skin of his arm.

“I don’t mind, as long as it’s you.”

A brief moment crosses his mind at the idea of another Lamenter biting your neck- of being this close to you. His hand clenches just a bit before he swallows that feeling of rage and leans just that little bit closer to you, pressing his lips to yours.

You lean into him, ignoring the ache in your neck and tasting iron on his lips.

[queersatanic]

Queer Satanic is dead; long live Queer Satanic

It’s official and it’s final: We won.

If The Satanic Temple were going to appeal its loss against the defendants it called “Queer Satanic”, the notice of appeal was due in King County Superior Court by 4:30 p.m. today. We have received no electronic notice of a filing, so we are very pleased to say that the case is finally concluded.

The nontheistic religious organization used its for-profit corporation “United Federation of Churches LLC d/b/a ‘The Satanic Temple’ ” to sue four former members of its Washington State chapter from April 2020 till September 2024. They sued us in federal court, the Ninth Circuit Court, dragged us into giving depositions for the Southern District of New York, and sued us in King County Superior Court, but TST has lost everywhere it went. The claims that we always maintained were frivolous and without merit have been found so in every court TST made those claims by every judge who has looked at them. Now, a month after TST’s most recent loss, the deadline for the Temple’s appeal has come and gone, and so we’re done.

Years ago in dark times where it seemed like there would be no end to this and The Satanic Temple and its owners would never stop being vexatious litigants against us, we wrote the bottom section. The website’s administrator was supposed to add some sort of explainer and then publish it, keeping the site up and running for as long as that was feasible for them since we would be in no position to be involved anymore.

What it talks about has not come to pass — but in other ways, it certainly has. This was not sustainable indefinitely. The machine was breaking down for a long time, grinding metal on metal without pause, but it can be turned off now. “Non serviam” — until further notice, this machine is out of service.

Certainly, there is still research to be done and still other articles to be written about The Satanic Temple, its owners, and how they actually operate in contrast to how they present themselves. But to be done by us? That’s less clear.

We don’t plan to completely disappear, and there is still some tidying up to do, but mostly, there’s some much needed rest. Just as likely, there will be other fights that now we can focus on, given the way the world is going. In either case, this sabbatical may be indefinite.

“Queer Satanic” was never an organization, never a hierarchy, only a vibe. We were Heretical Satanists, heretics of heretics, so in the midst of defending ourselves from a lawsuit, we tried to put forward positive ideas and examples about what a more useful Satanism might look like; we tried to show a radical and rebellious way of approaching and acting in the world beyond just aesthetics of painting it black or upside-down Christianity slapped on bog-standard reactionary and liberal politics.

We didn’t do enough of it, and there is still so much more to be done.

For now at least, we leave you to it.

If you’re reading this, it means we lost.

Maybe a judge ruled against us. More likely, we ran out of money to keep paying for our own legal defense and had to capitulate. Or, after more than two years — and the devil only knows how much more if you’re reading this — of assault in and outside of the courtroom, we wore down and could not find resilience between us all to go on.

For whatever reason, if you’re reading this, we lost. And we’re sorry. For whatever reason, we were not strong enough and good enough to win this fight. Maybe we weren’t even good enough to see it through to the end.

And yet the work continues. We will not be able to continue it, or at least not all of us, but the work is the work, and it never depended solely on us anyway. The Satanic Temple is a horrid, abusive organization. If we say something otherwise because we can no longer defend ourselves to prevent it, it should be obvious this was a statement made under duress. Fuck our future selves for what they say, but have compassion for them as well. Literally years and tens of thousands of dollars must separate us from each other; bravery is much easier on this side of the chasm of time.

The work continues, and you’ll have to do it. Yes, you. No one else can build what you want to see. Certainly not us anymore.

You are Queer Satanic just as you always have been.

A queer satanic antifascist is someone who detests and opposes fascism, white supremacy, cishetropatriarchy, clericalism, and capitalism. A queer satanic antifascist looks on all forms of domination and hierarchy and chooses to oppose them — actually — even if it seems the structures they oppose are omnipotent.

Lucifer fought all of heaven; can you not fight an egregore of capitalism?

Find people who want the same things you do. Work with those people to create the world you want around you. Sometimes, that is petty resistance to hegemony — vandalism, graffiti, a heckle. Sometimes it’s filling potholes or cleaning pots after a free feeding. Sometimes it’s open carrying at a queer protest. Sometimes it’s things not to be talked about digitally at all.

Be the insurrection you want to see. Be Lucifer the Light-Bringer, rebelling against ineffable tyranny at all costs.

Push grifters like the The Satanic Temple out of radical spaces with your teeth bared, call out their leaders for abuses everywhere so no one is fooled. Feed people. Shelter people. Protect people. Do it actually, not just for clout or to funnel money up a pyramid.

Use any symbol or meme or paragraph of ours that’s ever inspired you. Make your own new things to inspire others.

We are done. If you’re reading this, we lost.

But if you continue to do the work we did, we will never, ever lose.

Hail Satan! — the work continues.

Ave Satanas! — so do you.

[diminuel]

God… Wani transitions, looks so much more like a man than when they first met, and Dragon — so used to being reprimanded and poorly treated by men stronger than him, and used to being cordial and friendly with men he knows are *as* strong as him — but Wani is 10 years his junior. Still a rookie. And the marines teach you to *respect* and *submit* to men stronger than you. Which obviously the RA objects to. But Dragon is *head* of the RA so *everyone* is subservient to him — except his personal friends, whom are all basically equally as strong as he is if not stronger.

/except for Wani/

And whatever level of misogyny Dragon picked up pre-RA from the marines its pretty clear the flavor wouldn’t have been “ugh this woman thinks shes as strong as ME a MAN? Lets teach her a lesson boys!” as much as “pretty lady! pretty lady! impress the pretty lady!!!! make her like you make her job easy as possible so MORE pretty ladies want to work with you!!!!” So whatever Dragon believed about their difference in strength, experience, intelligence, etc. wasn’t assss relevant to him pre-transition. Thats his girlfriend why would he want to compete with or see bis girlfriend as a threat? They love and support eachother forever and ever.

But now he’s a man and he’s less experienced and cocky and all the things Dragon had beaten into him are signs of immense disrespect from one man to another man *clearly* stronger and smarter and more experienced and higher ranking and—

….and now Dragon’s bed is very, very empty. Which is weird because he doesn’t want to get out of it either.

Wani eventually comes back and Dragon has never felt lighter. Nothing really matters except Wani. He’s decided he’d abandon the RA if Wani asked. He really would. He knows his lover has dreams (dreams he’s apparently stomped all over). The RA isn’t a dream, it’s a necessity. But that means he can leave. He belongs to Wani first.

He’s pregnant. Theyre going to be fathers. Wani has NEVER seen Dragon cry like this. He missed him so much and now theyre going to be a family. Its barely past noon and Dragon has a resignation speech ready to go. He just wants to spend the rest of his life with Wani. Clearly his RA duties and his past are getting in the way so he needs to give being supportive his full attention round the clock.

Wani nearly clocks him over the head. Is he INSANE?! He doesn’t own ANYONE. Nobody belongs to ANYONE. Wasn’t that the whole point of his OWN RA? What sort of man throws his ideals away to impress a lover?

Stay in the RA. Wani isn’t giving up on their utopia either. (Maybe he hasn’t given up being king of the pirates yet either.) if theyre raising this child theyre doing it as equals Dragon. Wani thought thats what they were when he fell in love. He was surprised when becoming a man would somehow make that harder (aren’t they even *more* similar now?)

He’s right. Dragon’s respect for his lover should have never been made conditional or brought into question. He never truly forgives himself for fucking this up. Maybe Dragon has given Croc too much leeway with some boundaries, but that should have never been made into an issue of gender. A discomfort Dragon is only able to tolerate for a girlfriend but not a boyfriend. All or nothing. 50-50.

Of course. Reprimanding a superior in thr marines like this would get you on cleaning duty for a month. But he doesn’t feel disrespected. Or threatened. He’s *proud* his Wani is so strong and confident to talk down a man twice his size. Maybe Dragon is bigger and more experienced. But Crocodile is twice as brave and twice as determined and twice as confident and that’s *important* and it *matters* and it makes them both better people together. He’s good for him. Theyre good together. Theyre going to have a great kid and he couldn’t be more excited.

(And besides. Wani is only going to get bigger and stronger.)

Ah, I love it ;w;

Dragon going from one extreme into the other, letting his actions be guided by what he feels is expected of him in a given situation instead of letting himself be guided by his convictions. But luckily, Crocodile's there to knock some sense into him~

And Dragon's right, Crocodile will grow, he will get stronger. ♥

(Though the angsty part in me whispers what about when Crocodile does lose faith in himself? What about when his dream shatters because he was too cocky, too confident and nearly gets killed in a confrontation with Whitebeard? Unless that happened before or doesn't happen at all.)

[letstrythisout4]

Thinking about Fleamont adopting…basically any and every child in need of guidance.

Very “We may not know each other but if you ever need help, I’m here.” energy.

Like people always talk about Euphemia being everyone's mother and I agree 100% but Monty??

Don’t play with him.

They’re in Diagon Alley and a sales associate is being really just underhanded while talking to Remus and all of a sudden Remus just feels two massive heavy hands on his shoulders and Monty just starts tearing into worker, making incredibly specific but accurate reads into who they are as a person until they look like they’re going to cry. Once he feels satisfied he just steers Remus away, bringing him back to the others, not even bringing up the interaction that they just had.

They’re all at Slughorn's party and some high member of a subsect of the ministry makes a comment about how impressive it is that Mary and Lily are so talented given their “backgrounds” and Fleamont is just like, “What do you mean by that?” The person sputters some incomprehensible nonsense before excusing themselves hurriedly. The second they’re gone Fleamont turns to the girls telling them that if the situation is safe to do so that they should never let people speak to them in such a manner, “When that happens and no one says anything, they grow comfortable. Never let them be comfortable.” Even though he speaks softly as to not be overheard by god knows who, his tone carries enough weight for the message to stick with the girls for the rest of their lives. 

James would come and complain how his friends are being treated; how Sirius is crushed under expectations, how Remus (despite being the most competent person his knows) may never get a job, how Lily and Mary are always spoken down to, how Marlene and Dorcas get treated like shit by half the school since going public and how everything just isn’t right. 

And Fleamont would listen, he would listen as his son goes on and on about the injustices of the world and how he can’t understand, why and how? Fleamont feels a little crushed as he hears his son's voice crack as he asks his father for answers that Fleamont knows he can’t give. He and Euphemia tried their best to raise their son to be aware of the issues of the world. And he was aware, he just didn’t know. There are some things that one just has to witness to truly comprehend.

And so Fleamont is honest. “Why? Well, wizarding kind has built itself off of expectations, rules, standards that are meant to uplift our kind and keep us safe. And so that is, what many believe, to be the root of the issues you present. Sirius has so many, too many, expectations placed on him because his family fears the unknown of abandoning the expectations, rules and standards that their ancestors placed however many years ago. Wizards decided centuries ago that werewolves were dangerous and have kept that standard. They also set the standard that old magic, family magic, is superior therefore muggleborns get treated as if they are inferior. The entire standard of old magic comes from the idea of magic being passed down parent to child parent to child through “natural” births and so Marlene and Dorcas may never be treated in a far manner, for where you and I see a happy healthy couple, others see opportunities for magical improvement through magical marriages -and children- ending.”

Cue James adamantly stating how everything his father said is bullshit with no backing. Fleamont calms James down enough to explain to that as high society pureblood men, they have an obligation to those around them to speak up in places that those with less standing aren’t able to. 

Fleamont is an absolute menace in Wizengamot. The Potter family is a gray family, but when it comes to social matters, that man is on the dark family's necks. 

A dark family will propose a new law and give a long winded speech -that is just fear mongering at its finest- only for Monty to speak up at the end to swiftly rebuke every single point that they brought up. 

Why? Because he refuses to allow people to turn the world that his son and his children-in-arms live in into a world of fear. 

[tanoraqui]

Dungeon Meshi Liveblog: Marcille Takes Charge!

You know what, this is actually a very fair answer to my earlier question of "why couldn't the ancients just kill the demon?" Points to you again, Ms. Kui.

Truly I can't wait to see, like, every single Mithrun fight scene in the anime. The whole First Floor Incident is presumably going to be Episode 1 of Season 2, and I'm sooo excited.

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At first, I thought the Lion was being snarky here, but in retrospect, knowing its whole story and nature, I think it genuinely is just fond of all its former dungeon lords. What wonderful meals they gave it!

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That said, the Lion DOES have enough personality to Judge Marcille for her aesthetic choices; and I think that's beautiful :) <3

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MARCILLE, NO! You're showing how corrupted you've become/how you were never suited to this role in the first place by acting directly contrary to explicitly stated themes of the story!

There is, however, something very satisfyingly country-ruling foreshadowy about Laios (and Kabru!) looking down at all of this spread out, though.

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It IS painful watching Kabru try desperately to play both sides, keeping Laios safe from the Canaries without letting him go side with Marcille. Bud, I'm sorry but you HAVE lost control of this situation. And Laios is smart enough to have put everything together about what happened while he was unconscious, even when you deliberately didn't tell him.

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[whispering sternly to myself] It's not fealty. It's NOT fealty. It's the start of a beautiful best-friendship which just so happens to include 1 guy looking at another guy and deciding that yeah, he has good potential to fill the king-shaped hole that guy #1 has been searching to fill - but just, like, on principle; genuinely NOT for any personal emotional need. The best-friendship is a completely unrelated emotional need. The ONLY fealting in this story is, so far as I can tell, between Shuro and his ninja squad, because they're from a completely different culture and, tbh, genre of anime.

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But Laios, conversation is his means and mode! His sword and shield! If he can't talk it out, how is he possibly going to convince you to do anything, including save the world and be his friend?!

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God I love this. It's this perfect combination of "You are my polar opposite; you love the thing (monsters) that I'm terrified of, and I want to know how so I can do that, too, because I'm so tired of terror" and "You love a thing (monsters), understanding it to the point of being very good at killing it, the same way I love a different thing (people); we are the same and I just want you to recognize that like I do so we can happily vibrate on the same frequency forever."

It's very tragic-funny that Kabru genuinely try to introduce himself to Laios in a normal way, before resorting to taking his entire party to stalk him to dangerous levels of the dungeon and eating monsters. It's not his fault that Laios is completely immune to small talk.

I DO think that every pair (or throuple, etc) of narrative foils in every piece of media ever should at least try making out. At a certain point of narrative foiling, you might as well, you know?

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Note: Pattadol says she's "reporting" to Flamela, indicating that she's subordinate within the greater Canary structure even though she's 2nd in command of the most superior hunting party.

Also, it seems that the Canaries we know, the senior-most party, are genuinely the badassest of the badass and meant primarily for advanced dungeons including confronting dungeon lords and the demon directly. Tier-3 groups have less experienced guards, maybe criminals as well, and go on more scouting-type missions with no serious combat expected.

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She's not wrong, she's just a jerk about it!

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I get where the elves are coming from, I do. It's impossible to tell people people that there's a demon underground who'll grant their every wish while also communicating the dangers of this sufficiently that nobody goes searching for it. Even we the reader, don't entirely understand how bad it can get, how fast, until we watch Marcille do All Of That under the demon's active influence.

HOWEVER, it IS human nature to respond to this sort of thing with "well I/my friend won't go insane." There's gotta be a compromise wherein at SOME POINT far down the 'everything is going wrong in this dungeon' line, they just fucking tell people. They at least TRY. Otherwise they're just rolling their eyes at the short-lived races dangerous ignorance while actively refusing to reduce that ignorance.

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Again: Shuro is living in a slightly different, much cooler genre of manga than the rest of us. Also:

TEAM TOUDEN LET'S GOOO!!

The best part of this is that earlier, when our heroes were trying to figure out who might help them eat Falin's dragon half, I was like, 'hmm...they liked you, sure, but eating dragons is pretty weird...'

But now we are outright ALLYING AGAINST THE ELVES!

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Lmao. Classic adventuring party members, baffling NPCs as a team.

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oh this is cruel. this isn't fair.

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boys, focus.

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the comedic timing...

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lookit, that 30 seconds of desperate verbal flailing actually did help! Kinda!

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yeah, I DO really like that everyone looks to Chilchuck for his opinion on Marcille's 'make everyone live to 10,000' plan, as the guy with the shortest present lifespan and also the most age-wise of all of them.

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I Do Not Like This Visual. I Do Not Like the disproportionately large lion with human arms and hands shoving himself out of this book.

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Not to be pedantic, but I think if you're trying to entice a team of people into doing your will by calling out each of their individual strengths, I think you shouldn't make 2 of them as repetitive as "curiosity" and "inquisitive mind." That's not really what Senshi is bringing to the table anyway - I'd say "care" or maybe "sense of balance." Also, sorry Izutsumi but how tf is her "wildness" contributing to this mission?

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oh, Marcille, no...

[seyaryminamoto]

Fic-to-Art #39: Gladiator's ELEVENTH Anniversary! (+ BONUS: Fic-to-Art #36...)

And here we are! March 26th arrived and I did not forget about it, but I paid for my ambitious madness with my wrist and forearm. Somehow, I finished my intended pieces on time, but I do not advise that you ever try to make 9 artworks in 3 days. No, sir. Bad life decisions, that's what that was... but this fic, as anyone knows, moves me to do things I never thought possible, starting with writing the fic itself!

It's really crazy every time it hits me that I've been doing this for as long as I have. It's been a complicated, chaotic journey, with its many ups and downs, but ultimately, it has been our journey. For some people, this is just one more fic in the pile: for me, it's been the best adventure of my life so far. Everyone who has ever been touched by Gladiator, who has ever cherished this story, who's looking forward to the big conclusion, who wants to see how the chaotic war is going to end... you're all part of this crazy adventure along with me, and I can only thank you for joining me.

This year, I had no time to make as big a project as I usually go for. Thus, I did a sort of free-for-all edition of Fic-to-Art over at Patreon and challenged myself to draw as many scenes as I could, out of their suggestions. I even sprinkled in a few scenes I impulsively wanted to draw because I loved writing them or because I look forward to writing them... and this is the result!

In order, the scenes are as follow:

Sokka combing Azula's hair, a common occurrence throughout the story.

Azula watching over a convalescing Sokka in the Chase of Jeong Jeong arc.

The outcome of Sokka's final battle in the Superior Gladiator League, namely a moment where Sokka and Azula more or less gave away their relationship's true nature to the public by raising their hands towards each other...

And now, spoiler territory! Some were by my choice, some by Patreon requests:

An important moment shortly after Sokka and Azula reunite.

Azula confronting her father, with a LOT of backup.

Xin Long's long-awaited freedom.

The aftermath of the final battle.

The full-blown confirmation of their relationship to the general Fire Nation populace.

Sokka, Azula and Hotaru's first night together

And the big final one is ACTUALLY Fic-to-Art #36 but hahaha woops I didn't post it here on time because it was super hard to finish since I had a LOT of things going on... but here it is now! :'D it's a glimpse VERY far into the future of this fic's timeline!

Alright, that should be enough talking and explaining. Some things are vague, some things aren't, but ultimately I really hope you guys will be looking forward to the scenes you haven't seen yet, and to Gladiator's eventual outcome.

So now... with all this being said and done, I'm gonna go take a trip down memory lane and watch my Tenth Anniversary video once more! Feel free to do the same thing if you'd like to commemorate the fic, I think it's a good way to experience Gladiator all over again, hahaha.

Thank you if you read all this, and if you read all THAT: 5 million word landmark, here we come! Thanks for hanging out with me across ELEVEN years of Gladiator!

[changetheprophecy81]

Analysis: Was Hermione really shown to be superior to Lavender in HBP?

The whole 'Hermione vs Lavender' thing, aka uplifting the nerdy girl over the girly girl doesn't exist in the books, it is entirely fan made.

People often talk about how Lavender, a girly girl (who giggles, is interested in divinition, loves unicorns etc) was put down in the books just to uplift Hermione, someone who isn't particularly feminine and who's nerdy and intelligent with regards to their relationship with Ron in hbp. This literally never happened though, Rowling went to elaborate lengths to establish that all 3 of them were incredibly immature and hormonal teenagers

Rowling might hv been partial to Hermione in a lot of instances but this isn't one of the. Hermione is portrayed to be just as immature and teenage-like as the other 2, in ways that don't strike as 'uplifting'. Rowling even crosses the line doing this, like with the bird attack. Ron and Hermione bicker due to terrible communication, then Hermione cries alone in a classroom when she sees Ron kissing lavender, and is thereafter described as 'mysteriously vanishing' every time Ron and Lavender are together. She's constantly shown to be really jealous and angry with this.

“He’s at perfect liberty to kiss whomever he likes,” said Hermione. “I really couldn’t care less.” She raised her quill and dotted an i so ferociously that she punctured a hole in her parchment. Harry said nothing"

She then teases Ron and runs to the bathroom crying when he teases her back, then debates picking between Cormac McLaggen and Zacarias Smith- she ends up picking Cormac as 'he'd annoy Ron the most' (Cormac being Ron's 'rival' for the post of Keeper in Quidditch).

In what way does this qualify as 'shown to be superior'!?

Harry constantly complains about Hermione's pettiness. The book literally says:

Harry was left to ponder in silence the depths to which girls would sink to get revenge.

The use of the word girls in plural shows that in no way does the plot or the narrative think that Hermione is superior to Lavender. They're both the same: teenage girls being petty and dumb asf, Hermione in a vindictive way and Lavender in an overly romantic way. Harry, who doesn't discriminate girls for being feminine (eg. Fleur), is also sick of Ron and Lavender. Even Parvati, who's just as girly as Lavender, was tired of them.

“Hi, Harry,” said Parvati who, like him, looked faintly embarrassed and bored by the behavior of their two friends.

Lavender was never shown as weak just because she was feminine or pitted against Hermione. She joins the DA in OotP, was one of the first few girls to join the DA and Neville into hiding in fear of being targeted by the Carrows in DH (implying that she'd rebelled against them all year), and stayed back at Hogwarts to defend the castle after Voldemort's warning.

All of this wasn't written to uplift or put down anybody, both the girls were just written as teenagers. And for me that's what makes their last interaction so heartbreaking in DH

Two bodies fell from the balcony overhead as they reached the ground a gray blur that Harry took for an animal sped four-legged across the hall to sink its teeth into one of the fallen. “NO!” shrieked Hermione, and with a deafening blast from her wand, Fenrir Greyback was thrown backward from the feebly struggling body of Lavender Brown.

Its not Ron who protects her, its Hermione. That shriek in capitals and the 'deafening blast' seem so devastatingly personal. This was the girl she'd spent 6 years sharing classes with and living in the same dormitory with.

Its the fans that pit the 2 against each other, while the narrative does the exact opposite. Both girls were very young. They went from being petty teenagers fighting over a guy to fighting in a brutal war and seeing unimaginable horrors.

[lillian-gallows]

Kinktober Day 22: Predator/Prey with Johnny "Soap" MacTavish

Pairing: Johnny "Soap" MacTavish X Fem!Reader Word Count: 1242 Warnings: Predator/Prey kink (might seem a little dubious at first but it fully consensual for both parties and becomes obvious), Pet names, Dirty talk, P in V sex, Sex outdoors and on the ground (forest), Clothed sex, Unprotected sex (Wrap it before you tap it), Bondage (Kinda? He holds your wrists and pins you to the ground).

Kinktober 2024 Master(sub)list.

Minors DNI

The leaves crunched under your feet with every step and the noise made you cringe, knowing he could probably hear it, but that didn’t slow your pace.

He only gave you a five-minute head start, and that timer was quickly running out.

Trees passed in a blur as you ducked over and under the brush, careful not to trip up.

Each step made your muscles burn, unused to this level of sustained activity, your arms pumping at your sides, shooting out every so often to help guide yourself away from trees or over a fallen branch, making sure you didn’t lose your momentum.

Your heart raced, beating hard in your chest, which heaved with each panted breath. You were sure he could hear that too.

Vaulting over a moss covered stone you made a hard right turn toward an outcropping of boulders where a little nook hid.

Ducking into the nook was easy, slowing your breathing was not.

The sound felt like it was echoing, and your lungs ached a little as you fought to catch the air, which there didn’t seem to be enough of.

Your hands shook with adrenaline as you peeked around the stones, ears straining to hear even the barest sound, but all that met you were the sounds of wind in the foliage and the light song of the local birds.

Then you heard it. The snapping of a twig.

He did it on purpose, you know he did. He’s far too good at what he does to have done it by accident, and he would be hot on your heels as soon as your time was out.

“Bonny? Where’d ye go?” Johnny’s voice sounded so at ease, like this was nothing more than a Sunday stroll in the park for him, but then again, it probably was.

His steps stopped not far away, definitely close enough for him to see you if you tried to take another peek, then there was the sound of shuffling.

He found your tracks.

Shit.

Just as quickly as you stopped, you bolted again.

His laughter echoed behind you. “There ye are…” Then his boots were crushing the leaves behind you, they sounded like he was less than a foot behind you, but that had to be the adrenaline heightening your hearing, right?

Risking a glance over your shoulder you were met with his grinning face, certainly more than a foot away, but he didn’t look like he was using even half his speed.

His breathing hadn’t even sped up.

“C’mon now, Hen! All ye gotta do is stop for me!” He called after you.

A grin of your own edged its way to your face before you forced it away and forced your feet to move faster, vaulting over yet another fallen tree, the bark bit into your palm but you couldn’t find it in you to care.

Then, just as quickly as you’d taken off, you were forced to a sudden stop as Johnny practically tackled you, his body twisting so it was between you and the hard ground as you both went sprawling.

You tried to twist out of his hold, but just as he had the superior speed, he also had the superior strength, and his arms remained wrapped around your body as he rolled over on top of you, his chest pressing into your back as he leaned down.

“Gotcha, Lovey…” He purred into your ear, wild smirk damn near audible.

Grunting you continued to try to wriggle yourself free, arms reaching out to dig into the dirt, clumps of moss coming loose and getting lodged under your nails, your knees undoubtedly doing the same as you tried to kick yourself off the ground.

But all he did was laugh again.

“Now, now…None, of that. I caught you fair and square.” Johnny chided as he pressed more of his weight against you, letting you feel the hard line of his cock against your bike-shorts covered ass.

You felt a flush of a different kind rush through your veins at the sensation, unable to keep from pressing back against him, half to feel more, half in the hopes it would make his hold loosen so you could bolt again.

But no such thing happened, instead he reached up with his hand and pinned your dirty hands to the ground by the wrists. “Fuck…No, fair…You have longer legs…” You tried to pout, but your fast breaths made it hard.

He chuckled darkly. “All is fair in love…” His free hand slid down your side, caressing where your sports bra ended, and your soft skin started. “And war…” Then that hand moved down past your hip to curl around your front, where he cupped your sex over the thin fitness fabric.

An airy gasp fled your lips as he pressed his fingers against your clothed clit, sending tingling zings up and down your spine.

“Oh God…Johnny…” You whimpered, trying to press your hips into the touch but then it was gone.

“Christ, Hen…” He groaned as he lifted himself from you just enough to reach between your bodies.

The sound of his zipper met your ears as he undid his pants before he was tugging your shorts down to your thighs.

Then he was right there. Pressed flesh to flesh against you.

His hard shaft sat against the curve of your ass, nestled right into your crack for only a moment before he was pressing his cock into the tight space your pinned thighs made, and right against your drenched pussy lips.

“So wet for me, Bonny…” He moaned into your ear before his lips attached to your neck, the scratch of his stubble made your skin tingle, and you tilted your head to give him more space to work.

“Please…” You pleaded softly into the open air of the forest around you.

He hummed, pleased, before canting his hips back just enough to line up his cockhead with your weeping cunt.

Then he stopped.

“Johnny?” You questioned, but the name was barely half-way out of your lips before morphing into a desperate moan as he pressed into you, filling you to the brim in one go, an almost mean laugh rumbling in his chest, but even that turned into a moan as he settled all the way.

“Nice and warm…” He said, thinking out loud more than anything else as he held still, though whether that was to keep from blowing his load or to tease you, you aren’t sure.

There was no warning as he set a punishing rhythm, his head kissing up against your cervix on every thrust as he filled you over and over.

The sounds that left you were entirely of their own volition, not a single thought behind them other than to try and draw enough air in between.

“That’s it, Hen…” He gasped, his forehead pressing to your shoulder. “Be a good girl and take it…” He continued before you felt the sting of his teeth sinking into your skin, undoubtedly leaving what will become a very purple mark.

Your orgasm hit you like a freight train, body spasming against his, unable to move more than an inch under his solid weight.

Then you felt heat bloom as he followed right behind you with a broken sound.

The air was still as you both tried to catch your breaths.

Then it was broken by both your breathless chuckles at another successful hunt.

[2demondogs]

While Summer Dances | Molly/Mary-Beth

Tags: canon divergence (Molly left w the others), post-canon, pre-relationship confusion and pining <3, character study where Molly is depressed and learns how poverty works (like, for real this time), referenced VanDerMatthews Words: 2k A/N: A snippet of life. Struggling to have the drive for anything rn honestly. So kinda just working on what is striking me.

When she first came to America, Molly never thought she would find herself living in a tenement.

In fact, she turned her nose up at them any time she rode through town with Dutch. He never cared for that, either. She does not care for him anymore, but she understands why, even if he only ever saw in the poor a self-aggrandizing glory. He was the giving hand of God.

If it came to her, she'd spit in its palm.

She's grown past her own biases. Made headway in doing so, at least. Having tasted poverty, it's as difficult to stomach when it is shoved down her throat and takes root in her very own belly. How could anyone live that way? She had wondered, but came to find it was not exactly a choice.

Now that she's been forced to mend her own things, since Mary-Beth hasn't got much time, though she considers mending her things to be far less of a chore for some reason; to cook her own food, though Mary-Beth prefers to do it because she's not worth much in a kitchen, or to find a neighbor willing to spare half a meal between the two of them; to help make their money— all of which Molly had never expected to do until she found herself a husband.

Even then, what an unthinkable thing it was to have a husband who could not afford servants. Blasphemous, a husband who would make his own wife work beyond keeping what little of the house was left for her to keep so that she did not grow cabin-fevered in whatever lavish, wealthy prison such a wife might find herself in.

No, being poor should never do for an O'Shea. It certainly would be an embarrassment to her family the way she lives now, and at times Molly is thankful that they likely believe she is dead. Returning wasn't an option for the shame of failure, anyways, although it eats at her despite the fact a handful of people know the truth of where Miss O'Shea has ended up. It keeps her awake at night despite her inability to explain, when Mary-Beth asks her, what she sought in this country and apparently did not find. Love had came to her by instinct, but that was so girlish.

Always a smart kind of girl — spoken admiringly, though Molly once insulted her with it — she says maybe her failure was a lack of purpose. She thinks about that, too, when she cannot sleep.

Still, she finds herself day-dreaming of arguing her — their — case to her parents and governess. She doesn't know what needs those thoughts fulfill, but she supposes that thoughts don't really have to fulfill anything. Maybe they remind her that despite it all, she is strangely satisfied when the strain eases and she is sitting at the small breakfast table with Mary-Beth, learning to play card games and being teased about strip poker until she cries for her to stop talking nonsense. It's an old joke, but it makes the woman laugh when Molly acts a little prudish. Or maybe the thoughts just sit there, same as she does, and rot away into different ones once they've driven her sufficiently mad.

Mary-Beth says that it's normal to feel that way sometimes: a little mad. Molly doesn't understand much of what is normal, apparently.

This discrepancy between them alone is slowly chipping at the façade of superiority she finds herself clinging to. The ugliness rears its head when Molly sees something horrible. For instance, that mother in the next apartment who they cook for now and then. She hasn't got a husband to feed her baby, and can barely scrape rent together even though she sews the prettiest dresses Molly has seen in years.

The family name tells her: she is below you. Whatever, much kinder, thing that's growing in her believes only that the man who left those two babes deserves to be six feet below, and perhaps a little further down— straight into Hell. Molly knows what being left feels like, and that woman's relatability only ends because she doesn't believe she's got a talent of her own that'd even be worth wealth.

Oh, how angry being poor has made her. She's always been angry, but she's only just learned of it. Molly can't remember a day she was not angry, or mad.

The strangest part of it all is that Mary-Beth doesn't seem to mind either one as long as it's not about her. Really, she hadn't even cared when it was about her. She's probably got something very smart to say about those months after Dutch began following her tail, too, but it's been only a year on their own and Molly is less than ready to hear her wisdom. She has barely been ready to hear any of her other good opinions.

They always sting a little, which she guesses is part of what makes them true.

What strikes Molly most is that they haven't done anything to deserve this. They both work very hard. She makes nine dollars a week keeping the books at a general store; in the evenings, she does them for the landlord and is paid with discounted rent; Mary-Beth writes for the paper, though the readers only know her as Johnathan Price. And that lovely woman next door, and the families they all know by name, and the cats on the street— what have they done to be sneered at for living here?

When she is most desperate to find a reason, she even thinks of Dutch and his gang, and discards the morality she finds missing from them all by reminding herself that blood seeps through soil and colors the soles of bystanders just the same. Where did their hard work get them? That stupid old island he wanted to go to, like some child wishing to jump to the moon? She doubts it.

Molly'd been angry, yes. This dwindling sense of entitlement inside her is screaming with nowhere to run to. A familiar self-loathing is starting to take its place instead.

They are as lucky as they can be, at the end of the day. The wood may be rotting in places and it may smell a little when she forgets to perfume the air, but it is four walls — four blessed walls, and a floor, and a solid ceiling — and usually food, and so many kind folks who have been through worse and therefore do not judge. There's been no word from Karen since they left, so she can only imagine she is dead or in prison. Tilly was quite lucky to find Pierre, although she didn't explicitly say that Molly was also invited to the wedding when she wrote to tell them about it. You should come, but it was only addressed to Mary-Beth, as her letters always were.

Molly wondered, then, if it's because of how she was or if it's because of what this looks like: two women living together, sharing one bed, one working a man's job and the other, a tomboy's. Her family is argued with, inside her head, about those things, too, though she always comes up short with a way to describe how things actually are. Enough words come to her to write, when she can, but those poems are to never be read again. They are only for her journal, and Molly might die if anyone, herself included, ever laid eyes on them.

Never has she been good at holding her tongue, despite that. Mary-Beth had only blushed and told her not to ask things like if Tilly disliked inverts. Molly believed, at first, that she had disgusted her with the implication they could even be a pair of them. Then she said Dutch and Hosea raised Tilly to know better than that, which Molly once again rolled around in her head for evenings, wondering what exactly she had meant by it.

For once, she did not ask. Really, she already knew.

Jealousy is a green-eyed monster. Molly doesn't remember who said that, because she consumed far too many books in a cluster when Mary-Beth first learned she was literate but not well-read. This one and that one, and some Shakespeare, and this one's not very good but I think you'll enjoy it, it's romantic.

She never questioned where she procured all those novels, but she's certain they were stolen. Regardless, she read them and continues to read them, every now and then, because Mary-Beth is nice to her. Acting interested is the least she can do.

It felt a little more sensible to read for pleasure when she was shown just how fun romances can be. Such a concept was foreign to her in childhood, and Dutch's books were drivel. Even if romances make her a little sad, a little envious at times.

Mary-Beth won't hand over her own drafts still. Molly has tried when the woman was asleep, but apparently the empty space in the bed or the sound of the wrong papers shuffling is an instant remedy for her fatigue. She doesn't shoot up, but her voice is always sharp calling the diversion of: "What's wrong?"

Always what's wrong, never why can't you sleep. Molly wonders if these haunting dreams are also normal, and simply no one ever told her. Not a word of them has been spoken to Mary-Beth, yet she seems to understand why she wakes up so often to smoke.

Another bad dream wakes her this morning, and she feels like the green-eyed monster for it. Vague, shifting, the way dreams always are, but she remembers the terrible feeling of emptiness she felt and when she rubs the sleep from her eyes, they are damp with dried tears. Familiar faces, distorted by separation and left only to the black holes of hatred she assumed laid beneath them when she did know those women; all lacing corsets without her, all watching, all laughing at the girlchild — because for some reason she is young again in all of these dreams — who does not fit.

Molly doesn't tell her about these dreams because they feel silly, even though they ache. They ache a lot as she sits up in the bed, the dream settling into her back and spreading soreness over the shoulder blades.

She's never fit, that much is true. She doesn't even fit in her own skin, it feels, or else it wouldn't hurt like this.

Mary-Beth isn't beside her, but she can hear her in the kitchen making breakfast. It is Tuesday; they both work today.

Like usual, she looks at her spot and considers why they allow themselves to sleep this way. Studying the narrow mattress and the wrinkles in the fitted sheet, she finds there's no reason not to. It's comfortable. There is no room or money for another bed. She'd feel very bad if she kicked her to the sofa, and she would refuse to sleep on it herself. When Molly stretches across the bed to slide one of Mary-Beth's cigarettes out of the package, the pillow smells like her perfume.

Lately, it's become a little less usual to doubt this, but those dreams always make her feel so unsure.

How funny that life goes on without one's blessing. Molly thought she would die without him. Maybe it's the feeling that she will die without her that keeps her going, but it's funny how life changes, too.

Changes, and leaves her behind. Molly dresses herself and thinks how much easier it would be to have someone do her corset for her. Sometimes they do just that for one another, but usually she is unlacing Mary-Beth's when she is stiff from sitting all day or is tired because she's had to go around town for an article. Molly's job is tiring, too, but she doesn't seem to feel it the same way she does.

Women do up corsets with so much more prowess than men. Dutch had always had to let it back out some, hadn't seemed to remember she needed to breathe to keep sitting pretty for him. Mary-Beth's got practice with it. The few times she's laced Molly's, it's been the most comfortable it's ever felt; like a second skin, and not a layer of clothing.

Molly allows herself one moment to acknowledge that she takes that same sense of— something from the fact she undoes her corset, sometimes. After that moment, it's back to the shallows of her thoughts that it goes.

[theunderdarkarchives]

Part 5: A Collision of Worlds

Baldur's Gate was alive with its usual chaos—vendors shouting their wares, the scent of freshly baked bread mingling with the tang of fish from the docks, and the steady hum of footsteps on cobblestones. It was sensory overload, a cacophony of life, but to you, it was white noise. The world blurred around you as you focused on your breathing, your boots pounding rhythmically against the ground.

You didn’t know what you were running from—memories, perhaps, or the gnawing sense of emptiness that had taken root in your chest since the end of the journey. The fights were over, the grand battle won. Baldur’s Gate was free, and yet…

You wiped the back of your hand across your brow, shaking off the creeping thoughts. This was supposed to clear your mind, not fill it with ghosts of the past.

Turning sharply down a quieter street, you ducked into a narrow lane lined with flower stalls and trinket shops. The air here was fresher, perfumed by lavender and roses, and the noise of the main streets was mercifully muted. You let yourself slow, just enough to catch your breath, your thoughts still spiraling.

And then you collided with something—someone.

A gasp escaped your lips as you stumbled back, barely catching yourself before you fell. The other figure was less fazed, a hand shooting out to steady you.

“Apologies, darling,” came a smooth, familiar voice. “I didn’t realize I was standing in the path of a hurricane.”

You froze, your blood turning cold. You didn’t need to look up to know who it was.

Astarion.

Your gaze flickered up to meet his, and there he was, every inch the ascended vampire lord you had left behind. His pale features were flawless, his crimson eyes gleaming with a dangerous light, and his lips curled into a smirk that made your stomach twist. He looked the same as he had in the ballroom that night, but there was something more unguarded about him now, his usual mask of superiority softened by faint curiosity.

“Still running, I see,” he drawled, his hand lingering on your arm for just a moment longer than necessary before letting go. “Although, I must say, I didn’t expect to find you quite so… literally.”

You took a step back, putting distance between you. Your heart was racing, but it wasn’t from the run anymore. “What are you doing here?” you asked, your voice sharper than you intended.

He raised an eyebrow, clearly amused by your tone. “What, am I not allowed to roam the streets of my own city?” He gestured to the market stalls with a lazy sweep of his hand. “Even creatures of the night need the occasional diversion, you know.”

You frowned, crossing your arms over your chest. “I thought you’d be holed up in some estate, playing king of the castle.”

Astarion laughed, a sound both bitter and amused. “How charmingly reductive. No, darling, I find the castle life rather… stifling, as it happens. Besides, I have to keep up appearances, don’t I? Remind the common folk who truly rules this city.”

His words sent a chill down your spine, but there was no malice in his tone—only a strange, detached amusement. You hated the way he could make your skin crawl and your heart ache at the same time.

“Well,” you said, taking another step back, “I won’t keep you from your… diversions.”

But before you could turn away, his hand shot out, catching your wrist with a grip that was firm but not painful.

“Don’t go,” he said, and for a moment, his voice was almost… soft.

You hesitated, your heart pounding in your chest. His crimson eyes searched yours, and for the briefest moment, you thought you saw something there—something that felt achingly familiar, like the man you had once known.

“Please,” he added, his tone quieter now. “Just… stay. For a moment.”

Against your better judgment, you stopped.

“What do you want, Astarion?” you asked, your voice quieter now, laced with exhaustion.

His smirk faded, replaced by something more serious. “Is it so hard to believe that I might simply want to talk?” He released your wrist, his hand falling back to his side. “After all we’ve been through, I thought you’d at least humor me.”

You didn’t respond immediately, your thoughts a whirlwind of doubt and confusion. Finally, you sighed. “Fine. Talk.”

His lips curved into a faint smile, and he gestured toward a small garden just beyond the market square. “Shall we?”

You followed him reluctantly, your steps slow and hesitant. The garden was quiet, tucked away from the bustling streets, and the scent of flowers hung heavy in the air. Astarion stopped by a wrought-iron bench, leaning against it with the ease of someone who owned the world.

For a moment, neither of you spoke. The silence stretched between you, heavy with unspoken words. Finally, he broke it.

“I’ve missed this,” he said softly, his gaze fixed on the flowers rather than you. “The way you challenge me. The way you make me feel…” He paused, as if searching for the right word. “Human.”

Your breath caught in your throat. “You made your choice, Astarion. You left that part of yourself behind.”

He turned to you then, his eyes burning with something you couldn’t quite name. “And yet, here I am,” he said, his voice low. “Standing in front of you, trying to remember what it felt like to be anything other than this.”