#and then turning this back on the Masses...blaming them for their out of control use of Resources & selling them the brochure...

[secattention]

Man-Made Clouds to Cool the Oceans

[revelboo]

Hi Revel, I just got another Kickback figure today and I was wondering if you'd be able to write something for Kickback and reader getting to spend some alone time together while the other bug husbands are away?

Sure! 🔞 Mass displaced mech 🌶️ DubC0n

Persuasion

Kickback x Reader

• Watching his brothers leave to hunt, Kickback turns his attention back to you and you draw your legs up against yourself, frowning. And he’s missing out on hunting, on the delight of devouring still living prey because you need to be watched. Because Bombshell doesn’t trust you not to run again and truthfully, he can’t blame his brother. Knows if you’re weren’t fully bonded to them, Bombshell would have eaten you for that. Given up on claiming a queen. Expression growing wary when he approaches, he crouches, thighs spread slightly so he’s caging you in your corner without actually touching you. Knowing that you know you’re prey to his predator. “You hurt Bombshell’s feelings,” he says, lacing his words with worry. “Mine, too.”

• Skin prickling with a flush of goosebumps even as his soft words make you want to apologize, you hesitate. Wanting to appease him, beg him to forgive you as your racing heart calms. And his clawed servos catch your chin, tipping your head up. He’s doing something, know it even as something whispers through you that everything’s okay. “Sorry,” you mumble as his other hand wraps around your upper arm and tugs you into his warmth. Part of you wanting to bolt, smelling him. Musk, blood, and rot as your mind recoils and you feel drugged. Lazy and complacent. Different from the aphrodisiac is their saliva.

• “Don’t run away again, little morsel,” he croons, chirping softly and you relax into him. Hears your confused ‘Why would I run away?’ And his voice, his ability to make others want to believe him, to trust him, isn’t as strong as Bombshell’s mind control, but it’s enough. Letting him coax you, soothe away the fear and uncertainty. “You wouldn’t. You’re right where you belong with us.”

• There’s a distant uneasiness you can’t quite get ahold of as Kickback lifts you to straddle his thighs and you brush your mouth against his jaw, his neck. Trying to figure out why he’d said not to run. You’re home, so why would you run? Sharp servos tip your chin up as his mouth slides against yours, glossa stealing inside and heat blooms inside you at the taste of him. Moving restlessly against him, he eases back to sit and you push impatiently against him until he lays back with a chuckle. That thought snags at you again, a loose string your mind can’t help but pluck at. Why would you want to leave? This is yours. He’s yours. You’re so warm, you feel like liquid need and when he releases his spike, you shift over him, pushing back and feeling him slowly stretching you. You’re their queen, you don’t want to be anywhere but right here. And his clawed hands slide up your sides, worshipping you with his touch.

• “Don’t worry, little queen,” he croons, chin tucked against himself to watch you lift up and ease down on his spike. Beginning to ride him in urgent movements, pupils dilated. He’d pushed for a human mate on a whim, wanted a loving, little queen. Someone to hold who needed them. Something more than the endless hunger, the itch to hunt to occupy him and his brothers. “All’s well,” he growls, lacing the words with persuasion and you want to believe him. Otherwise, he wouldn’t be able to convince you at all. Hands skimming up your sides as you bounce on him, head thrown back and feeling the frantic thrum of your heart against his palm, you shatter with a cry and he grips your hips. Driving up into you in urgent thrusts until he’s overloading with a hiss to fill you. And pulling you down to lay on top of him, his chin brushing the top of your head. Feeling the warmth of you, the scent of you almost making him drool. His little, prey queen. If not for the full bond, you’d be far too tempting, a morsel to devour instead of his precious, soft mate. “Nothing’s wrong. We’re happy, aren’t we?” And you murmur an agreement as his servos tunnel into your hair. “You love your mates, don’t you?”

[soulfulazrael]

Something dawned on me about part of Deltarune fanbase which made me theorize something about the ending.

And that is discourse around Kris recently on the internet and the Soul which relates to this

And I have something in mind I want to speak up about, There is something we can see quite a bit in both Undertale and Delatrune fanbases. And that is... bias towards ourselves. Where a lot of players refuse to take responsibility for their own actions. Where some still believe Chara is responsibe for genocide. Where Snowgrave is something Soul itself did or something else controls us. So forth and so forth.

And I was wondering about this, but on something else. Because I also saw some speculation about DU having similar story to a game called Omori. Haven't played it myself, but from what I understand it's ending is tied to confessions. And there is quite a few people now given that Toby by the time it released said a game would be very similar coming out and author of that game is their friend. How Kris will have to explain so much. How Susie will hate them and not trust them. How everyone will turn on them and they will lose their hand too and so forth and so forth.

And now I think... on that side people are doing THE SAME thing as people who blame Chara do. They are still on their very big bias towards themselves which makes sense as we probably always will be biased the most towards ourselves. But I have this thought this concept that... it will be that, but it wont be Kris who will be hated in the end. It will be us. We wont be the ones who will be accepted and Kris judged. No. It's Kris's decisions that THEY make matter. It is our choices that do not.

And possibly in the one ending we get WE are never accepted. Susie will never like us. None of the characters will care for us. It's Kris that will be loved, it is Kris who will earn forgiveness as we are told to leave. Like in Undertale even on Pacifist route we are told to LEAVE and never come back.

And while it is just my theory it would be fascinating if it ended up being true. Sort of way to gauge the kind of person you are. Whether or not you find it fair or satisfying that someone else gets to be loved and accepted and you are left alone. Even if you play full pacifist the ending remains where you have to leave. Probably as being viewed more fondly upon, but not truly accepted. Basically. Can you be okay with Kris being the one who get the happy ending. Not you.

And I know some of you may say how this is something that happens in lots of games like Mass Effect or something, but here is the thing. Deltarune is unique because of how much distinction it makes between the player and the main character. We are hit on our head time and time and time again how we are not Kris. How they have their own agency, their own likes, needs and personality that we hijack.

So in the end no matter what deals they have, what happens, they will earn something better and you will not. And Snowgrave could be a path for those who are bitter about this choice. Who do not accept it and want to force the game to cater to them. To love them. Make at least one person love you. Someone very, very vulnerable you can mold.

Now I know it sounds, dark, weird and uncomfortable, but to me it would be very interesting. A test of how far you extend your empathy at the cost of your own happiness. And how many of those people who are scared for Kris will NOT be happy if good ending for Kris means a bad one for them. Becuase Kris is Kris and you are you. So how about leave them in their world and like Ralsei said "Have real friends"?

Now just to be clear. I do not mean here that characters in this game will HATE US no matter what. What I mean is that we will never be as close to those characters as Kris is and despite everything Kris will be seen in much more favorable light than we ever will be if confessions ever happen. Where Susie may at first look at US more with Scorn and forgive Kris much easier. I don't mean that until the end she will hate us, but I think the game will make sure to let us know that Susie and others will never be VERY close to us.

That is for Kris. And like even in Pacifist Run Flowey pretty much begs us to leave Frisk and others happy and let them live their lives I feel like ending of this game will be similar. In that we will have our time with those characters, but we have to move on and let them be happy on their own. Without us.

[naxalbari1967]

The U.S. Army Is a Death Cult

Call it what it is. The U.S. Army is not a peacekeeping force. It’s not a force for freedom. It’s not defending democracy. It’s a machine of organized terrorism. State-sanctioned, tax-funded, and marketed as noble while it burns entire countries to the ground. There’s nothing defensive about it. There’s no honor in it. It exists to protect capital and empire, not people. And it leaves terror wherever it goes.

Iraq is not a war. It was an invasion. Based on lies. Weapons of mass destruction that never existed. The Army went in, flattened cities, tortured civilians, poisoned generations with depleted uranium, and called it liberation. Hospitals bombed. Journalists murdered. Entire families turned into body counts. The scale of destruction was so massive it shattered the region. Millions dead. Millions displaced. For what? Oil contracts. Military bases. Private security profits. The U.S. Army didn't bring peace. It brought terror in camouflage.

Afghanistan was the same. Two decades of occupation. Drone strikes. Night raids. Puppet governments. Villages reduced to rubble. Children orphaned. Weddings bombed. Farmers labeled as insurgents and executed from the sky. And in the end, the Taliban’s still there, and the only real winners were defense contractors. Lockheed and Raytheon made billions. Halliburton cashed in. The Army was the enforcer. The muscle for empire. It wasn’t about fighting terror. It was about projecting dominance. The U.S. trained warlords, ran black sites, and backed opium kingpins, then acted shocked when everything fell apart.

Go further back. Vietnam. Cambodia. Laos. The Army dropped more bombs on Southeast Asia than were used in all of World War II. Napalm. Agent Orange. Chemical warfare. The earth still hasn’t recovered. People are still being born with deformities. The Army didn’t fight communism. It fought peasants. It fought farmers defending their homes. And when the Vietnamese refused to break, the Army turned the land into a firestorm.

Everywhere the U.S. Army shows up, civilians die. Not by accident. By design. From Korea to Somalia to Panama to Libya to Syria to Yemen — it's the same pattern. Set up bases. Train death squads. Back dictators. Crush movements. Control resources. Leave the place worse than before. Then blame the victims for the chaos. And back home, they sell it as justice. As defense. As humanitarian. While the body bags pile up.

This is not defense. Nobody is attacking the U.S. homeland. The Army doesn’t fight for freedom. It fights for control. It protects mining rights, oil routes, shipping lanes, and the ability of American companies to extract and exploit without consequence. It is a weapon of capitalism. The poor get drafted. The rich get richer. The Army isn't protecting you. It’s protecting their profits.

And don’t forget what it does at home. The same Army that claims to spread freedom overseas trains cops in counterinsurgency tactics. It runs domestic surveillance. It crushes protests. It stood ready to be deployed against uprisings in Ferguson, Standing Rock, and 2020. The empire doesn’t stop at the border. The same soldiers killing kids in Gaza or Mosul are used to scare the poor in American cities. This is not hypothetical. It’s historical fact. Ask any community of color what the military means. It means checkpoints. It means occupation.

There’s a reason U.S. bases are everywhere. Over 750 of them. Every continent. Every ocean. No other empire in history has done this. Not Rome. Not Britain. This is colonization through logistics. The Army is not defending anything. It is surrounding the planet. It is holding the world at gunpoint. You don’t need 11 aircraft carriers for defense. You need them to threaten anyone who steps out of line.

They call resistance terrorism. But look at who’s been terrorizing the globe. Entire nations laid to waste. Resources stolen. Leaders assassinated. Movements crushed. And the people who pull the trigger go home and get medals. This isn’t security. This is domination.

The Army is not a neutral force. It’s not misunderstood. It is doing exactly what it was built to do. Enforce U.S. dominance through violence. Clean it up with a flag. Wrap it in patriotism. Feed poor kids into the meat grinder and tell them they’re heroes. Meanwhile, corporations profit and countries burn.

If any other country did what the U.S. Army does, it would be condemned as terror. Bombing schools. Torturing prisoners. Using chemical weapons. Supporting coups. But when the U.S. does it, it’s called foreign policy. It’s called strategy. It’s called necessary. The language changes. The terror doesn’t.

[whatever-i-hyperfixate-on]

Mo Ran's 'Redemption' and the Flower (spoilers)

I don't think the flower was just there to justify Mo Ran's actions and wrap everything in a nice little bow so our protagonists could be happy. I think it serves a very important purpose, and I am also part of the camp that thinks Mo Ran cannot be forgiven without the flower (aka I don't think Hua Binan can be forgiven). I think the flower is a crucial part of the story, and Mo Ran's arc (and Hua Binan's arc), and why Mo Ran can be completely forgiven in the end. Hell, he's the one who deserves an apology actually!

Mo Ran was a victim the whole story. Full stop. He was a victim. He had his happy memories wiped, and was used as a puppet of carnage to get enough corpses to build a bridge so the BBBF could go home. I don't think he can be blamed for any of it aside from having some unhinged thoughts, but the only thing that proves is that he's not a saint, and he's imperfect.

It's not the equivalent to a drunk person releasing their inhibitions through alcohol (like I've seen someone say before...). Hell, alcohol EXISTS in the story, and I can assure you that if Mo Ran was drunk he would not end up doing the things he did in the 0.5 timeline.

The equivalent to the flower in the real world is if he got brainwashed and his brain got probed in a mental facility where they erased his defining memories (his happy memories included parts of his intelligence) and messed with his brain chemistry to amplify his worst thoughts -even some passing thoughts at the back of his mind- and dial it to 10 thousand to actually make him act out. Chu Wanning even says that much. You would have to be the literal Buddha to avoid being affected. That's why Chu wanning doesn't even just forgive him - he says it was my fault, and I'm the one who should be sorry. Because I couldn't protect you and give you your dignity back.

And it ties nicely into Hua Binan's arc too because he ended up hurting someone from the very race he wanted to save. He looked down on Mo Ran despite the two of them having very similar backgrounds, gave him hell and used him despite Mo Ran also being a BBBF, and in the end still sees him as literal dogshit....even though Mo Ran has never done anything to him. It's a display of the hypocritical nature of Hua Binan, how he is completely devoid of empathy, and how this turn of events perpetuates the cycle of suffering and abuse.

Anyways, the only thing about the flower is that it sours Mo Ran's redemption arc, because I think the only thing he should even be sorry for is....having some unhinged thoughts. Maybe some shizun disrespect (which you could argue Chu Wanning should apologize for some of his treatment towards Mo Ran too....). Yeah. I don't think he has any of the blame on his actions, because he was turned into a literal puppet. So this is not me saying r*pe and genocide can be justified and forgiven, this is me saying an innocent boy was used as a vehicle for mass destruction and tragedy to which he had no control over. Blame Hua Binan.

It's a very weird "redemption arc" imo. Instead of ending the book feeling like I got to witness a boy bearing the weight of his sins and striving for redemption and atonement to which his earned happy ending is controversial because of said sins, INSTEAD I am sitting here feeling bad that this boy was turned into a martyr and victim for the real mastermind, and he still feels guilty about all his sins anyways, sins which he had no control over.

Meatbun....why did you make Mo Ran so tragic. I could cry for him endlessly. Seriously.

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

The Playbook is the Point: How Trump Turns Words into Weapons and Targets into Enemies

Weaponizing Words, Building Fear, Silencing Dissent

James B. Greenberg

May 11, 2025

We’ve seen this script before—not just in history books, but in the memories of those who fled regimes that began with slogans and ended in silence. The pattern is familiar: label, isolate, inflame, punish, expand, normalize.

What makes Trump’s rhetoric dangerous isn’t just its cruelty—it’s the infrastructure being built around it. This isn’t style. It’s strategy.

Thanks for reading James’s Substack! Subscribe for free to receive new posts and support my work.Pledge your support

He doesn’t just insult critics—he marks them. He paints targets on the backs of immigrants, trans kids, and political opponents, then lets the crowd or the state take it from there. Like authoritarians before him, he tests the boundaries—starting with the vulnerable, then his rivals, and eventually, anyone who dissents.

This is authoritarianism in real time: the weaponization of language to create moral panic and public consent for state violence.

Language sets the stage. When Trump calls immigrants “animals,” protestors “thugs,” or opponents “vermin,” he’s not speaking in metaphor—he’s establishing who’s outside the circle of empathy. In every authoritarian regime, violence begins with this redefinition of who belongs—and who does not.

Trump’s power lies in provocation. One crime becomes an “invasion.” One protest becomes a threat to the nation. It’s not sloppy—it’s surgical. Fear is the fuel, and complexity is the enemy. Blame the outsider. Purify the group. Promise control. It’s an old formula, but in a diverse society, it doesn’t unify—it divides. It turns governance into spectacle and punishment into policy.

And he doesn’t just stir fear—he markets it as safety. He creates the fire, then offers to put it out. But fear doesn’t just activate. It desensitizes. Cages, bans, raids—each more outrageous than the last—until outrage becomes background noise.

The first term targeted asylum seekers, Muslims, trans youth. Now, the targets grow bolder: mass deportations, detention camps, civil service purges, prosecutions of political opponents. What’s tolerated at the edges spreads to the center.

This isn’t chaos—it’s construction. Schedule F let him gut the professional civil service. The Insurrection Act could let him deploy troops domestically. A captured Justice Department becomes a weapon, not a shield. These are not campaign bluster. They are working plans.

Control doesn’t begin with a crackdown. It begins when the public shrugs. The lies wear us down. The spectacle numbs. And the longer we pretend this is normal politics, the more normal it becomes.

The next phase goes beyond punishing enemies. It targets resistance itself. Authoritarian regimes start with high-profile dissenters. Trump has called critics “traitors,” prosecutors “animals,” and opponents “vermin.” Expect lawsuits, surveillance, selective prosecutions, even digital “enemies lists.” Not to eliminate dissent entirely—but to scare others into silence.

The tipping point won’t be when the first critic is punished. It will be when the rest of us fall quiet.

But resistance is still possible—and it doesn’t start in Washington. It starts in community. Not just in marches or petitions, but in conversation. In how we talk to neighbors, how we rebuild trust, how we remind each other of the values democracy requires.

Propaganda isolates. Connection disrupts it. Not with shouting, but with honesty. Not with slogans, but with shared humanity.

Because democracy isn’t just a system. It’s a commitment to each other. And when we remember that, we become harder to tear apart.

Suggested Readings

Arendt, Hannah. The Origins of Totalitarianism. New York: Harcourt, 1951.

Ben-Ghiat, Ruth. Strongmen: Mussolini to the Present. New York: W. W. Norton, 2020.

Bernays, Edward. Propaganda. New York: Ig Publishing, 2005. Originally published 1928.

Lakoff, George. Don’t Think of an Elephant! Know Your Values and Frame the Debate. White River Junction, VT: Chelsea Green Publishing, 2004.

Snyder, Timothy. On Tyranny: Twenty Lessons from the Twentieth Century. New York: Crown Publishing, 2017.

Stanley, Jason. How Fascism Works: The Politics of Us and Them. New York: Random House, 2018.

[wundersmith-squall]

ramble about your Ezra Squall redemption arc please?

Absolutely- id be very happy to! I'm quite aware that im about to sound like this:

but you asked so this is what you signed up for /j

Soooooooo it basically wormed its way into my head because of the one time where Squall said something like 'We're wundersmiths we take all of the blame and none of the credit' and I was like, okay sir are you speaking from experience? What was the 'credit' of your actions? And also the mention of the shared enemy, which I at the time took as meaning partially something in the republic that threatens Nevermoor, and partially something to do with the system, the Wunderous Society and like, all the people in charge who are against wundersmiths and are trying to hold Mog back.

Along with these two things, I'd like to think that 100+ years of banishment are long enough to rethink your actions and become a better person.

So, I'll explain it in a way that wont take an entire essay to write out. Basically it goes in my head that, Courage Square was, at least partially an accident, and over 100 years the story got skewed, and the current population turned against Ezra and the Wundersmiths, while the population at the time knew how, Wundersmiths ultimately were trying to help Nevermoor. Courage Square was bad, which is why Ezra was banished, but he wasnt killed. After a tragedy, it would be expected that he'd be punished, but at the time, the Republic as we know it didnt exist, and so being banished out there was a very bad fate, but it was definitely better than death.

Ezra went through a, lot of bad mental states during the first few decades of his banishment, but as he grew older, he came to terms with both his past actions and his current situation, though he still feels guilty about it.

In my head, the Wundersmiths were originally established to protect Nevermoor from the weird creatures of the darkness that the Wunderous Society takes care of now. Those creatures are attracted to Wunder. When Ezra was banished from Nevermoor, there were no longer any Wundersmiths in there, and so WunSoc had to step up and find a way to cover for him. Meanwhile, Ezra, who still loves Nevermoor, establishes Squall Industries, partially to improve conditions in the Republic and partially to provide a bigger, brighter beacon of wunder to attract the majority of the dangerous creatures to a place where he could still handle them. In this same thought, the Hunt of Smoke and Shadow werent something he created, but a group of these dangerous creatures that he managed to tame.

On the same subject are the other cursed children, those who, gather wunder but are unfortunately dont have the gift to control it. The creatures of the darkness, who chase wunder, hunt down these children to take the wunderous energy from them, which they dont survive. Ezra does his best in this situation, but one man can only do so much, and the creatures are relentless.

When he first discovers Morrigan, he's not exactly sure what to do. He tries to just get her as an apprentice through the usual means in the republic, but after a certain mad ginger got in the way he sent the Hunt after her, himself being busy trying to help the other cursed children, but we all know that that attempt didnt work. Ezra, knowing about the wunder critical-mass gather-too-much-without-using-it-makes-bad-things-happen thing, so he used the gossamer to get back into Nevermoor.

Having to enter and view Nevermoor again, even though not physically, took a bit of a toll on him, plus having to interact with someone new while being himself, which is not something he's had to do in a long time. He's also never, had to teach anyone before.

From there, I imagine he goes from frustrated and angry, to irritated but starting to get attached to Mog, to actually being a genuinely good teacher (aka the floof you saw in my drawing, who doesnt sleep nearly enough but still tries his best to be a good person), who is Tired™ and also just as chaotic as Jupiter when he wants to be.

Thank you for listening to my ramble- I can happily expand on anything if anyone happens to like this train of thought. I have further specifics on, basically everything, but this is a solid overview.

[littlemourningstarr]

Pleasures of the Abyss

Sekh has finally mastered his usage of Evard's Black Tentacles, and Astarion is more than eager to see what his husband can now do...

A part of the BG3KinkmasChallenge on Bluesky!

Read below or on AO3!

Pairing: Astarion x Transmasc tav

Part of the Eternally Yours series!

Tags: Transmasc tav, Inappropriate use of evard's black tentacles, tentacle sex, cunnilingus, praise kink, light dom/sub, masturbation, anal sex, vaginal sex

Astarion sucked on his own iron tasting tongue, settled on his knees and trying to calm his racing heart. Gods, it didn't even need to beat, but when Sekh promised something mind numbing, he simply couldn't control it.

His husband was standing at few paces away, freeing his ginger hair and looking so glorious in the moonlight that Astarion was already half hard just looking at him. A belly full of blood definitely helped, but he couldn't blame his desire solely on the sweet silence of the hunger.

Sekh curled his fingers, and Astarion watched a flash of green in his glorious mismatched eyes- his magic truly flaring. And then a moment later the ground surrounding Astarion released a mass of wriggling black tentacles.

He grinned, a mix of pride at Sekh so easily casting a spell that had, what felt like eternities ago in the Underdark, taken a mass amount of concentration- and arousal, because he knew what his husband wanted to do with those tentacles.

Sekh flicked his hand, and the tentacles moved- finding Astarion quickly. A few wrapped around his wrists, pulling his arms out, as others began pushing at the hem of his shirt, sliding under it easily. The tentacles were shockingly smooth, silken like and warm. Astarion had expected them to be uncomfortable.

His drow stepped closer, watching as Astarion's shirt was bunched up to his ribs, more tentacles writhing along his chest, sliding along his nipples and trying to squeeze at his pecs. The vampire tipped his head back, another tentacle wrapping around his waist, holding him in place, as its tip toyed at the hem of his pants. He felt his cock straining in his underwear, already weeping precum, worked up because he trusted Sekh to make this good.

Gods, he couldn’t imagine anything the drow wanted to do to him not being mind blowing, earth shattering, soul sundering.

He could just hear Sekh’s breathing, as his drow walked around the tentacles, still holding Astarion still, toying at his chest. His nipples were hard, pert in the cold night air and already aching.

He opened his eyes when Sekh paused, his drow crouching down right in front of him, staring directly into his eyes as Astarion lifted his head slowly. If his red eye could burn, it would be hotter than all nine levels of the hells- while that abyssal black iris seemed to suck Astarion in, hold him in stasis.

Sekh flicked a hand, and the tentacles at Astarion’s wrists released him. Before he could properly lower his arms, Sekh reached out, guided his shirt up over his head, folding it over one arm with a sweet yet devious smile. “Can’t have your things getting ruined, pet.”

Astarion shivered. The petname turned on him felt oddly diabolical, made him want to submit like a fucking dog. When Sekh reached forward, began working his fly open, Astarion whined like a wanton pup, caused Sekh to smile more.

“Hush, I know, I know. Look at you, all riled up from that blood…” he grasped Astarion’s erection through his underwear, stroked up along the shape of his shaft. Astarion bit his lip, eyelids fluttering, cock twitching, begging for Sekh’s hand, his mouth, his cunt, anything.

When his drow released him he placed a hand on Astarion’s chest and shoved. The elf fell back, the tentacle around his waist keeping him from sprawling on his back, as others went back to his wrists, his arms, forcing him to bare his chest as one rolled over a nipple- wet now.

He must have gasped, before Sekh grinned like an arch devil. “They can get excited too.” His husband took a moment to free Astarion of his boots, as the now wet tentacles slid along his chest, making his nipples ache so badly, a wet patch forming on his underwear against his cockhead. He didn’t squirm when Sekh guided his pants, and then his underwear off his body, leaving him blissfully naked now in the grass.

He felt the tentacles finding his thighs then, wrapping tightly around them and spreading his legs. There was no resistance as he let himself be splayed, his cock bobbing up and leaking, flushed red as if he lived again.

There was only a moment where there was nothing but cold air around his erection, before one of the tentacles coiled around it. It was wet now, secreting something that smelled slightly sweet, was overly slick, like the ones at his chest. It wound entirely around his cock, seeming to pulse around it. Astarion choked, hips bucking, trying to fuck into the tentacle wrapped around his cock, his thighs trembling.

It felt like nothing ever had. He couldn’t remember ever being inside someone that had felt like this- and an entirely new experience at this point in his life felt like a dream.

He heard Sekh kneel down next to him, turned his head, mouth open and panting, as his drow carded his fingers through Astarion’s free curls, keeping them back from his face. “Good?” he asked, and the vampire managed a feeble nod, before he whined again, his belly going so tight. Fuck, he’d come in seconds if his husband kept this up…

And Sekh knew it, he was sure. The look of utter bemusement, of cockiness on his face, made Astarion want to sob for him, kiss him, bite that pretty mouth until it bled. Instead he simply leaned into his chest, whines turning to groans and breathy grunts as the tentacle continued to pulse around his cock, until he was shuddering a broken breath, his first orgasm washing over him. His cock pulsed, heavy spurts of cum shooting up his belly and dribbling down the tentacle wrapped around his cock.

The tentacle milked him, continued to squeeze and pulse, drawing the orgasm out until Astarion’s belly hurt with it. It was only when he felt his eyelashes growing wet that the tentacle relaxed- no longer pulsing but simply a slippery warmth to cradle his softening cock.

Sekh reached out, dragged his fingers through some of the mess Astarion had left on his own belly. The drow dragged it up his pearly skin, before his bitter soaked fingers found Astarion’s parted lips and pushed inside. Astarion suckled at his fingers, tasted his own bliss, as more tentacles slid between his thighs, pushing at his asscheeks. Fuck, Sekh truly meant to fuck him, didn’t he?

He should never have doubted a single promise his drow gave him.

Sekh moved his fingers so one pricked one of Astarion’s fangs. The vampire was rewarded with a few drops of his sweet blood, the rich taste causing him to squirm, to whine around his husband’s fingers. Sekh only smiled, whispered Astarion’s name.

He was still lost in the little blood treat when he felt a tentacle push at his asshole. It was overly slick, still warm, and within only a moment had eased into him. Astarion arched, bared his chest up and then sobbed a breath because his nipples were so beyond sensitive it nearly hurt to have the tentacles sliding along them.

Sekh pulled his fingers from his mouth, reached down and grasped Astarion’s pec himself, squeezing it, letting his nipple dig into his palm. The tentacle inside him was wriggling and thrusting easily- so easily that, before Astarion could fully take in that it was indeed inside him, a second was joining, stretching him wider.

He choked, then gave a breathy gasp as Sekh pinched his nipple, rolled it between his fingers. “Good boy,” the drow whispered, “you’re taking them so well, just like you take my cock.”

Astarion whined, the mere idea of having Sekh’s false cock pushing into his body making insides ache. Gods, the drow always knew exactly how to move, how to find every spot inside his body that made Astarion sob and sing.

A third tentacle pushed at his hole, and before he could breathe it was inside him as well, wriggling about with the others, one constantly pushing up against his prostate. He was seeing starbursts as he stared up into the trees and sky, everything feeling tight and oh so good.

His second orgasm was dry, his cock still only half hard and having nothing more than precum to give, but it had him howling in sheer ecstasy, as if he was a beast calling to the moon. He arched, again, back bowed so severely it should have hurt, the tentacles inside him thrusting quicker, only deepening the orgasm. It had barely subsided when the tentacle around his cock began to wriggle and pulse again, and he sobbed, felt tears leaking from the corners of his eyes.

Sekh pulled from him, and he forced his stinging eyes open, as his drow stood up. Nimble fingers had his robe open in seconds, and Sekh shrugged it off, showing off scars and freckles along his dusky torso, his hands moving to his own pants.

Astarion whimpered, writhed about, straining to try and turn towards his husband. The tentacles held firm, kept him on his back, some lifting his legs, baring himself in a way that was damn near embarrassing. He watched as Sekh stripped fully, swore he could smell his cunt the moment it was exposed to the air.

It made him salivate, made his fangs ache, made his cock throb, fully hard again and twitching in the tentacle’s hold.

“Please,” Astarion whispered, his voice broken. Sekh arched a brow, but Astarion was sure the man knew what he wanted. He always did. He was inside his head- but the intrusion was always welcome, with him.

“Please what?” Sekh asked, stepping closer again. He lifted a hand, and a few more tentacles manifested, twining around his hand, letting him pet them affectionately. “What  do you want, Starshine?”

Pleasure. His- Sekh’s- he wanted it all. But- “Your cunt.”

Sekh hummed, before the tentacles left his hand, moved to Astarion. They forced him properly down on his back, the tentacle around his waist finally unwinding and chose to simply squirm along his body, leaving slick, wet trails of that subtly sweet smelling secretion. Astarion swore it made his skin tingle, slightly.

Pinned down, he could only stare in sheer desire as Sekh knelt over him, knees at his shoulders, and welcomed him. Astarion lifted his head, pressed his mouth to his cunt, found him overly slick, sopping wet. He whimpered, the taste sending his mind reeling, making everything in him tight and tight and tight-

He cried against Sekh’s cunt, came with such a rush that his head swam, his vision going black- or were his eyes simply closed? He couldn’t tell- he just knew Sekh’s taste alone had been enough to send him into his third orgasm.

“That’s it Astarion,” Sekh all but purred, grinding against his mouth as the vampire lapped eagerly at him. “Fuck, look at you.” Sekh reached behind him, leaning slightly to slide his fingers along his stomach. The tentacle on his cock didn’t stop this time, and the three inside him thrust harder, wriggled deeper-

Astarion pulled at the ones holding his arms down, and they released. He reached for Sekh’s hips, grasped them and dug his fingers into the plush skin of his ass, forcing him down heavier on Astarion so he could truly bury his face into his core. Sekh trembled, groaned as he ground against his mouth, his clit hard, heavy, fucking delightful against Astarion’s eager, wriggling tongue.

Sekh relaxed, even as Astarion continued to lap at his cunt, tried to spear his tongue into his body to get a taste. When his drow finally pulled away- feeling like he could easily out power Astarion, who felt weak from his three orgasms- Astarion whined, tried to pull him back down.

Sekh stood, and Astarion turned his head, watched as his drow settled down in the grass. With a smirk that could send a god to his knees, Sekh lifted a hand and curled his fingers- and gods, Astarion was being lifted by the tentacles. He was in the air, suspended by them as they turned him, held him firmly and brought him to his husband, got him on his weak and trembling knees between Sekh’s spread thighs.

The tentacle on Astarion’s cock finally uncoiled, leaving him, only for Sekh to reach down, grasp his cock himself and stroke. Astarion shuffled a bit closer, as Sekh laid back properly, took the vampire with him, hiking a leg up on his hip. One of the tentacles curled around Sekh’s ankle, helping to hold him in place.

Astarion rutted like a fucking beast in heat, desperate for his cock to slid into the warm fucking paradise he knew Sekh’s cunt to be. It took only a few moments before he was inside him, Sekh arching beneath him, chest to chest, hands clawing over his scars along his back.

The vampire bared his teeth, growled, thrusting into him quickly, the tentacles around his thighs pushing him forward and pulling him back, aiding in his thrusts. The three inside him thrust faster, harder, pushing against his prostate and making him feel too big for his skin.

He could have sobbed when Sekh kissed him, all affection and desire twining together in a way Astarion swore only his drow could accomplish. Astarion sucked eagerly at his tongue, drank down the little moans and blissful sighs his husband gave him, all while his mind was boiling within his skull, his body so alight he couldn’t feel anything beyond pleasure. Yet he knew he needed release, needed to come again, needed it to be inside Sekh.

His thrusts became more erratic, until his rhythm was gone and he was rutting with the sole purpose of coming hard enough to shut his brain off further. He felt Sekh’s nails digging into thick scar tissue on his back, pulling him closer, encouraging him wordlessly.

He broke their kiss to throw his head back, groan in triumphant relief as another orgasm hit him. His cock throbbed, spilled as deep inside Sekh’s pretty cunt as he could get himself. He trembled down to his toes, could feel fresh tears streaking his cheeks, until he was collapsing onto Sekh, the drow supporting his entire bodyweight. He was able to enjoy the warmth of Sekh’s body for a moment, before the tentacles were guiding him up and off him, sprawling Astarion on his belly in the grass, so his head could be cradled on his arms.

Yet the tentacles inside him still didn’t leave. They slowed their thrusts, chose to wriggle and squirm inside his body instead, leaving him still feeling full.

He watched through wet lashes as Sekh reached down, fingers finding his clit. A tentacle left Astarion’s arms, slid its way between his husband’s legs, and then inside his cunt with ease. It thrust quickly, and Sekh tipped his head back, rubbing his clit with two fingers, legs trembling as the tentacle thrust just as deep as Astarion’s cock had gone. The vampire could see some of his cum, pearly and thick, streaking the tentacle when it would begin to pull out. He could smell himself inside Sekh’s body.

He watched, unable to lift his head higher, as Sekh came around the tentacle, milking it like he would have milked Astarion’s cock, if the vampire could have lasted. He could see his thighs trembling, and wanted to sink his fangs into them, run his tongue along the endless amount of scars he had left there, over the years.

Sekh’s fingers slowed, then stilled, as the tentacle thrust a few more times, before pulling from his body. Nearly dripping, it made its way back to Astarion, as Sekh pushed himself up on an elbow, cheeks slightly flushed, lips parted as he tried to catch his breath.

Astarion finally managed to lift his head, only to have the tentacle push at his lips, pry his mouth open and slide within. It was thick enough that it pinned his tongue down as it fucked his mouth, left Astarion drowning in the taste of Sekh’s cunt and his own cum.

He squeezed his eyes shut, panted through his nose, as the tentacles at his ass began to thrust again, the bodiless beast that was under Sekh’s thrall deciding Astarion had had enough of a reprieve.

His mind couldn’t even form words- it had been entirely shut off, was understanding nothing beyond pleasure. The one thought that kept racing within his mind was the desire for more, until he couldn’t breathe, couldn’t see, couldn’t survive.

He’d easily meet death again, if it was at the ask of Sekh and his desires. It would be glorious.

[miraculouscriticismshub]

My thoughts on Felix - anti hero gone wrong

Introduction - SEASON 5 SPOILERS AHEAD

Felix Fathom - the show's anti hero. Easily one of the smartest characters of the show and has gained quite a large fanbase. However , his Character took a drastic turn in Season 5 , with the transition from anti-hero to a hero. He joins the team in the season 5 finale - which has raised a few eyebrows. This post will explain my thoughts on Felix and why I dislike how his character has been written this season . Don’t get me wrong , I don’t hate Felix but it annoys me how he does awful things and doesn’t face any consequences. This is not a hate post on Felix but simply me sharing my opinion on him.

His Character explained up until Emotion

Felix seemingly had a rough childhood. Due to Amelie being infertile , Colt created Felix from the peacock miraculous , which caused him to be a senti.

Due to Colt using the broken miraculous , he got sick and seemingly blamed , abused and controlled Felix.

When Felix was 13 , due to frustration , Colt punched the wall , breaking the ring which is where Felix’s amok is. This nearly killed Felix and made him realize his life was tied to his father’s ring. Soon his father died and he took his ring , securing his freedom. However he was forever paranoid of the idea of disappearing and when he found out about the peacock miraculous, he made it his goal to steal it from his uncle to ensure his survival. We see him first in the episode Felix , where he steals Gabriel's ring. We see him come back in Gabriel Agreste , finding out his uncle is a Shadow Moth , confirming his suspicions that he had the peacock miraculous.

The trauma from his interaction with Gabriel , thinking he was about to be snapped out of existence, triggers him to complete his mission. In the Season 4 finale , he steals most of the miraculous and trades all of them and Gabriel's ring for the peacock miraculous.

The rings from my understanding were a safety net in case anything went wrong. He knew Gabriel would never trade the peacock miraculous for his wife's ring because of how powerful the miraculous was so he stole most of the miraculouses because he knew about Gabriels plan. He laid low for a few months then in the episode Emotion , he committed mass genocide by snapping every human to the red moon and leaving only the senti-trio and Marinette on Earth. 

His motive - freeing his cousin and Kagami ( who he recently found out was a senti) from their parents. He however realized he lost control and brought everyone back. Felix is an anti-hero in the sense that he had good intentions but goes about it in the wrong way. He had a good reason to trade the jewelry for the peacock in order to be free , to never be under the mercy of the peacock miraculous holder , who can snap him out of existence anytime. However he achieved his goal in an unethical way , by betraying ladybug and stealing the miraculous. This also applies in Emotion , he felt empathy for Kagami and felt bad about Adrien because he was in the same situation as them which is not being able to be in control of themselves. He wanted to help them experience the same freedom he has so he snapped Gabriel and Tomoe to the red moon.  However he went way too far by snapping away literally everyone committing genocide. He had a sympathetic motive - helping Adrien and Kagami but how he conducted his methods in a questionable way portrays him as a morally gray character.

This is what makes his Character compelling . You sympathize with his character and understand why he does the things he does but at the same time disagree with his methods and resent him for helping the main villain. 

Why Feligami doesn’t work

Pretension is the episode where Felix’s character went wrong for me. This is mainly because of Feligami (sorry Feligami stans😔😔). He seemingly falls in love with Kagami after one episode and from my understanding - stalks and kidnaps her from her mom . Now Tomoe is awful but there really was no need to kidnap her - she was only shouting at her - not beating her up. He kidnapped Kagami not because she was in any danger but wanted to confess his love towards her and make her fall in love with him . Kagami was not having any of it however when he seemingly saves her and tells her about his tragic backstory , she instantly gains feelings.

The problem with this is that Kagami barely knows Felix . From her POV , he could easily be lying in order to gain sympathy from her. They got together during one episode which caused the ship to feel rushed. Another reason why this ship doesn't work is how they fell in love. Sure Kagami saw Felix differently after Felix saved her from Tomoe and gave her the ring but you don’t fall in love after three interactions.

Kagami chooses to be with Felix because he looks exactly like Adrien which causes the ship to be unhealthy because she still has unresolved feelings for her ex. She doesn’t love Felix for who he is , she loves him because he looks like Adrien. If she started dating Felix after knowing him for a few weeks/months then it would’ve made more sense that she fell in love with Felix because of his personality , not his appearance.

Felix only like Kagami because she was a senti , he barely cared for up until Emotion. He only spent a couple of hours with her before snapping everyone away and then decided he loved her.  If Kagami wasn’t a senti , he wouldn’t have taken interest in her and snapped her away without caring. The last reason why I dislike Feligami is that it feels forced . The sole reason why the writers gave Felix a love interest is to make him look more redeemable. Kagami is one of the show's more loved characters ( from season 4 at least) and making her and Felix get together was for the purpose of making Felix more likable. To conclude , Feligami is a cute idea but the execution of their storyline was done badly. They fall in love despite barely knowing each other and Kagami forgives Felix way too easily after knowing his story. If you like Feligami though , that's perfectly fine. 

Representation mess

This episode made me lose most of my respect for Felix as a character (I can hear the Felix stans typing 😂😂). The first reason why this episode wasn’t well written is how Felix approached Ladybug. When performing his cringy play (which turned out to be pointless) he asked for Ladybug help without uttering a single apology for everything you’ve done to her. He SA’ed Ladybug and gave her trauma by stealing the miraculous but still had the audacity to request assistance without saying sorry. Isn’t he ashamed of himself or feel any guilt ?

He also sought Ladybug's aid not because he wanted to free Adrien from Gabriel , not because he felt bad about what he did in Strike Back and wanted to seek forgiveness by teaming up with Ladybug to help her defeat Monarch but because he wanted to love his girlfriend freely. He only helped Marinette , gave her the information she needed because it benefited him . This isn’t a bad storyline for an anti-hero. An anti-hero only works for himself but the reason why this storyline failed is because the narrative pushed Felix to be some sort of hero. His moments with Kagami make him look like a good guy and the backstory made Felix sympathetic.

The moment  where Felix explains why he stole the miraculous felt more of a justification portraying Felix as someone who is innocent and hasn’t done anything wrong. He is sympathetic and tragic but isn't exactly a good person either so the part where he justifies what he did and the narrative portraying him as a hero felt like bad writing.

Another thing that bothers me is the inconsistency of Felix creating a sentimonster which is a projector. He said in Pretension he refused to create another senti just for him to abuse them , control them and snap them out of existence when he’s done with them.

However , after Mari wakes up , she sees a feather which we could assume means Felix has snapped it out of existence when he was done with it. The annoying thing is that this could’ve been avoided if Felix wasn’t a coward and went up to Ladybug , APOLOGIZE for what he did , says he wants to help her defeat Monarch and tell him everything he knows. Man up Felix ! The least he could’ve done was give the senti its freedom instead of killing it. However in defense of Felix , he did tell Ladybug about Adrien being a senti which redeemed him somewhat , but the info on Monarch's identity was pointless and the information Felix revealed was barely used in the finale until the Adrienette kiss scene.  Overall this Episode made me lose most of my respect for Felix's character because the writers try so hard to portray Felix as a hero or a good guy when clearly he still is the same as before. He still has villain like tendencies that are never addressed and this episode really swept all of his bad deeds under the rug. 

Why his redemption doesn’t make sense

During the epilogue of the finale - he seemingly is chilling at the Agreste mansion and spends time with Kagami - eyeing her cutely. However the most insulting thing about the finale is when Felix seemingly joins the team confirming a redemption arc (pls don't kill me Felix stans🙏🙏). He is pretty much forgiven for his crimes and faces no real consequences. Well to be fair , he did face a small consequence for mass genocide , he lost control of his power and realized he is no better than Monarch. This is shown when  he cries after snapping the red moon out of existence.

However that was the only consequence he faced out of many crimes he committed and he never redeemed himself to Ladybug for killing everyone. Instead he got rewarded with a girlfriend and ownership of his Miraculous despite his identity being known. The reason why his redemption makes no sense is that he never apologized to Ladybug or proved himself that he is a good person. Sure he had good motives and felt remorse a few times but he never said sorry to Ladybug or felt any guilt about helping Gabriel. His abuse under Colt explains his actions but does not excuse them so him seemingly being forgiven by everyone  without proving himself just felt wrong. The season 5 finale was a missed opportunity to redeem Felix the right way with him saving Adrien and Kagami from their prisons or him fighting alongside Ladybug against Monarch. Instead he was absent and only showed up in the epilogue. Another problem is that his redemption was rushed , only a few weeks ago he committed mass genocide but now he’s besties with Ladybug and already part of the team , the same team he ruined by stealing all the miraculouses. Did she also forget he forced himself on her ? Felix can do whatever he wants without ever being held accountable or face any punishment. I’m not against a Felix redemption arc if it’s written correctly. His character would’ve been better if he continued to be an anti-hero and is redeemed in later seasons.   Therefore , his redemption felt ruined because he basically got away with most of his crimes and was forgiven easily without ever apologizing or feeling much regret. He basically faced no consequences for SA, assisted terrorism , mass genocide , stalking , kidnapping and instead got rewarded .

Final thoughts

To conclude ,  Felix started off as a great character with layers and complexity but unfortunately got ruined as the story progressed. I don’t hate Felix , his character is fascinating because of his character status as morally gray but like most characters in this show , was a victim of bad writing. His redemption felt disappointing and his relationship with Kagami felt unnatural. I understand his motives (he was doing it for his own survival) but they way he conducted his methods was immoral. He got away with most of his crimes and faced no punishment. Hot take but Felix is one of those characters who’s better off as an anti-hero. He still has so much villain potential which shouldn't go to waste. However I will end this post on a positive note and say not all hope is lost and Felix’s character can be saved in season 6. Going forward , I hope Ladybug and Cat Noir (especially Cat Noir)  still are a bit suspicious of Argos and don’t fully trust him despite letting him into the team.  Another Unpopular Opinion is that I want Felix to turn on the hero team in future seasons and work with the villains. It’s logical because he never was held accountable or faced real consequences so what is stopping him from betraying the team again ? His character has so much potential and he is unique solely because he is an anti-hero. I hope in Season 6 , his character improves. However these are just my opinions , if you love Felix and agree with how the writers are handling his character , that is perfectly fine .  Please stay respectful 😊😊😊 .

[theunholyrogue]

if time could stop (REWRITTEN!)(bay!raph ending)

tw: angst, cursing

intro.itcs

“Let's do this.”

Raphael gazed up at the machine, his brow bone contorted into a frown as he listened to Donatello explain the controls of the teleportation device. If only it were on already, he would hop through with no hesitation– but of course his brother was smart enough to know that.

He couldn’t stop himself from thinking of what was to come, but no plague of doubt consumed him over this. The Shredder would be defeated, they would take him down before he had a chance to take over their beautiful home of New York, and he wouldn’t drive his blades through your body another time.

Everytime he had went back to thinking about that night, everytime he turned his body around to look over his shoulder, he saw you pushing April out of the way and taking the fall for her, your blood oozing down over the blades and dripping to the concrete road below, your body falling to the ground with April catching you in her arms, the screaming, crying, and begging that you would make it. It made him sick to think about, and the turtle had blamed himself and April for your death. He blamed himself for not being able to block the Shredder attack, to stop him, or for even assuming he knew the enemy’s next move. He blamed April for being there, in the way, for not realizing what was going on. Hell, he even blamed you for being so compassionate towards your friend that you would put your own life on the line for them.

But, Raphael knew that it wasn’t your fault, or April’s fault, and at moments of clarity– he knew that you wouldn’t blame him for your death, that it wasn’t his fault either, but that was harder to accept. Because why else would you not be here, with him, alive and healthy if he had ran forward instead of moving backwards with his brothers? Why would he had given the Shredder a moment to change his trajectory and go for April instead of staying in the way and blocking him? It was his fault, surely.

“Two turtles at a time to keep the portal from going crazy and changing us getting stuck in the past,” Donatello stated before typing in on a digital keyboard and cutting the machine on. Suddenly, in the middle of the round frame, a purple, swirling mass engulfed the inside of the device, waiting patiently for the turtles to walk through.

“Casey, you’ll be keeping track of our vitals while we’re on the other side, or the past– I mean. These suits has built in monitors to keep track of our oxygen and respiratory rate, blood pressure and heart rate, and temperature,” the tech genius spoke as he handed his brothers a black suit that fit to their bodies. “April, you’ll be keeping track of the portals soundwaves and making sure that it doesn’t want to shut down and trap us in the past. It has an auto-correcting system but for precautions, if the waves don’t die down or a message alert comes up, just yell out. We have a communication system built into these suits as well so that we can you and Casey talking on this side while we’re on the other side.”

“Gotcha,” April and Casey both nodded, understanding their roles in this situation.

“The portal will act haywire at first whenever we go through, but it should calm down after a few minutes. Wait a bit and then send the next two over. If it doesn’t calm down, you know the drill.”

“Understood, Donnie. Good luck.” April responded with a confident smile.

“Raphael and I will go through first, so that Donatello can make sure the portal is doing what it is supposed to. Once it’s clear, he and Michelangelo will come through. We’ll wait for you on the other side and from there, we’ll defeat the Shredder once and for all,” Leonardo stated.

“Sounds good,” Raphael remarked before pushing his eldest brother through, “Let’s stop yapping and get to beating.”

Raphael didn’t hesitate to jump through the swirling mist, falling out through the other side– though once he looked around, nobody was in sight. Mikey, Donnie, Leo… nobody was in the empty lab.

“Leo! Where are you?” He called out, though he received no response in person– though his brother’s voice came through his suit. “In in the lab– where are you?”

Raphael’s brow bone contorted into irritation. “I am too. I don’t see you.”

“Guys…” Donatello’s voice echoed through the suit with a worried tone. “You two aren’t on the same plane anymore.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

“Raph?”

Raphael’s heart dropped as the familiar voice called out from behind him, his gaze slowly trailing the room as he turned his body around to face the direction of the voice.

“I thought you were…” You murmured, watching as the turtle turned around.

There, you were standing with a half-ripped bloody shirt, along with bandages wrapped around the upper half of your torso. You held your hand against your side, evident that you were sore from the attack. But… you were alive.

Raphael uttered your name in a whisper, the first time he had said it in five years.

“You’re… alive,” he murmured, causing you to tilt your head.

“Yeah, I’m alive?” You asked, a breathy laugh escaping your throat then quickly whimpering.

Raphael walked up to you and wrapped his arms around your body. He slowly inhaled, taking in your scent and allowing his tense posture to relax since your death.

“Raph, are you good?” You asked, reaching up and wrapping your arms around his shell, dragging your digits up and down slowly.

“Raph, you have to come back. The portal is going crazy on our end. Leo’s already—,” April was speaking over the comms system, but Raphael pulled away and spoke.

“No.”

“No?”

“No, I’m not coming back,” Raphael firmly started, his hands sliding down to meet your hands. Tightening his grip around your digits, Raphael continued. “I’ve been fucking miserable for five years. Five whole years. I’m finally feeling okay again. Goodbye.”

“Wait, Raph!” April called out as Raphael moved away and took a sai from his side, jamming into his portal and causing the mist to disappear.

He took a deep breath, before looking back at you.

“Yeah. I’m okay.”

[callsigndreadfrost]

Oracle Corp Creatures & Critters:

The Falsk.

Origins of this creature is really obscure but throughout the ages Russians have blamed it on Norwegians and Norwegians have blamed it on Russians. However, this monstrosity was first observed in the very northern parts of Finland.

Simply called falsk (false in Norwegian) these creatures can take on the shape of anything they want be it animal or human. They can even perfectly mimic some non-humans to a degree. They can mimic the fangs and claws of a vampire but they neither feed on blood nor are they injured by uv rays or light. While they could mimic a shifted werewolf they do not need the full moon nor do they feed on human hearts. They can only mimic organic materials.

A falsk can also imitate a person's voice perfectly though they won't be able to mimic a person's personality. It could imitate someone's mother but not the way that person's mother talks or annunciates words. They also do not actually speak, they imitate words, phrases and sentences. With age these creatures can learn what phrases to use to get people to come to them or open the door for them.

Falsk have one fatal flaw though. The more they mimic other people or animals the more grotesque they become since there is no "changing back to normal", falsk have no default look unlike a werewolf. At sundown of a fullmoon they revert back to their default canidae state and at sunrise they turn into a human. Falsk have no such identity. In fact, no one has ever seen a falsk before mimicking someone or something. This means that anything they mimic is added to the mass of flesh. For example, say a falsk's first act of mimicry was that of a female human. The falsk will be an almost carbon copy of said woman, however, if the falsk were to try to mimic a fox it would be a horrible and terrible mass between human and fox and the more it tries to mimic other things or people the worse the mess gets. It's basically limbs upon limps upon apendages upon body parts coming out of every available surface. After the first successful mimicry it loses it element of undercover to hunt for prey, however, falsk are ambush and trap hunters. They remember all the animal sounds they've mimicked as well as voices. This means a falsk can lure in hunters by mimicking the sound of a deer or a duck. It can lure in people by mimicking the sound of a crying baby or of a man, woman or child asking for help. When potential prey is lured the falsk move in.

These creatures have a surprising level of coordination and control over their many limbs and apendages which can include multiple heads. They are also surprisingly strong, mostly dealing blunt force trauma to their prey though they can also really on claws and fangs should they have any.

As mentioned before, no one knows what their default look is. There's barely anything known about them, how they breed, how the behave with other falsk--nothing. Studying them is a headache as well as capturing one alive is difficult given how savage these creatures are and in the off chance that one is captured alive and kept behind an enclosure the falsk will just continue to mimic and try to get its captors to release it by either begging or threatening.

Autopsies are a nightmare as they're a mess of different blood types, dozens or repeated organs and tissues somehow coexisting in one body. And yes, Oracle has thought of using these creatures for heart and blood harvesting but since falsk are not human they can't use them. They've become a bit of a problem as they have multiplied a lot over the years and have spread far and wide to the point where now these creatures can be found world-wide. They mostly stick to areas where there aren't any humans choosing to stick to heavily wooded areas, mountains ranges and other rural areas. Some do become brazen enough to move closer to their prey prompting them to imitate people that live in targeted homes which mostly results in them being chased off, remember they're ambush hunters and as soon as they're trap is disrupted they tend to flee. They can defend themselves very well but they'd rather save their energy for hunting.

[bubblecat-co]

Put your Rook through horrors Ask game

Here we go with one mass answer post. You can find the questions here and I will still be taking any so ask away!

Thanks to all who asked! Let's go

First from @a-mumbling-nerd

6: Have they ever been in a unhealthy relationship?

Aria had a 2-year fling with Illario but she wasn’t attached to him in any way. For her it was just there something for her not to be alone. For him it meant just as much as his other relationships. Whether or not that counts. It wasn't deep but it wasn't nothing.

from @teamtakagi

12: What do they doubt the most about themselves? why? where did this come from?

Aria doubts her leadership abilities. She’s just an assassin; she isn’t used to having people look to her or even look at her. Having suddenly everyone turn to her for things she has no idea how to deal with because she really is better with a blade and poisons while yes, she can talk her way out of situations and get where she needs that’s does not include ELVEN GODS! She’s just making everything up as she goes and hopes that it works, and no one dies. This self-doubt really is just from her being raised by Viago. Who would want to follow the crow who is reckless and impulsive? She’s done so many things that’s almost gotten herself killed and the fear and uncertainty that her plans will lead to the same outcome and possibly even cause the deaths of those who follow her.

from @i-creatied-au

15: what is one thing in the world that would make them lose all hope?

If any of the companions betrayed her, she would spiral so far out of control and would never see the point of believing in hope or anything ever again. She would become the worst version of herself imaginable and no way to come back from it.

from @larknnightingale

19: one of their loved ones just got grievously injured by their enemies. Who was it? How do they react?

The loved one would be Viago and Aria would absolutely loose her shit. She has such an intense wave of emotions she is angry; she is crying, she is blaming herself, and she will hunt everyone down because no one hurts her brother. She will be in full vengeance mode until every last person is dead and their blood stain her knives.

from @ezriell

20:  deep down did they truly believe they would be able to get out when they were trapped in the fade?

Absolutely not but she’s stubborn so she obviously wouldn’t ever give up, but deep down she didn’t believe she would ever get out that the world outside would turn, and she will miss it all trapped in by the regrets that she harbored close to her chest. She doesn’t even believe if she deserves to get out. If the team truly needed her, what had she done to prove that she was essential? Every turn she made a mistake, every step of the way she tripped. But she had something to prove, to get revenge so she would never give up. Without the voice of Varric, she wouldn’t have been able to truly let go of the regret chains that held her.

[mirasmirages]

Fall In Line - Ten - Hero

First Previous

Contains: Superhero fight, fire, left for dead

Nadir had lived in Hereswell for three months now. When he first told his mother where he was going, he thought she was going to faint, and he couldn't blame her. Hereswell had a reputation, and not without reason.

Few things were as illegal as being an unregistered hero. It made sense. Heroes were dangerous, after all. It was like allowing people to keep unregistered weapons on them at all times. When a person developed powers, they were expected to get registered and tested, and then the agency would decide what to do with them. The young ones went to the Institute to learn to control their powers. The adults were offered jobs in the military, if their powers were useful. It was rare to hear about someone who turned the offer down. Nadir had never met a registered powered person who chose to live a normal life.

Superpowers came with certain side effects. Strength, stamina, speed. Hunger. Nadir ate more now than he did at the height of his growth spurt. And then there was the urge to do something. To get his adrenaline pumping until his body was tingling. To drive faster and climb higher and take bigger risks. He had hoped becoming a firefighter would help, but it only increased his tolerance. He needed more. As a child he had wondered why heroes who tried so hard to stay hidden would still go out to fight. Now he wondered how anyone had the strength not to.

When the opportunity appeared to transfer to the Hereswell Fire Department, he jumped on it. If there was one place that needed more people that could handle a disaster, it was Hereswell. Hereswell had an unusual amount of powered activities. Heroes. Villains. Recently they even had a supervillain who kept coming back. As long as Nadir kept his head down, who would have the time to look for him? No one would care if he climbed a few buildings or stopped a robbery at night. He would be careful. He just needed this itching under his skin to stop.

He should have known it wouldn't work.

He had kept his head down, picked up extra shifts at the station and not gone out to fight. There was enough to do, both with moving in and at work. He had only been there for two weeks when he got to see his first supervillain attack. He had been at work, and the fight had dissolved quickly once police cars started arriving, but even the few seconds Nadir had seen had been awe-inspiring. The villain had been strong - easily throwing cars around - but the heroes had kept him in check, and had managed to keep civilians from being seriously hurt. That, Nadir thought, was the kind of hero he wanted to be.

A few weeks later he got his chance.

Nadir often spent his days off walking around town, familiarizing himself with the area. It would be useful if he ever needed to get around quickly. Under his clothes he wore his makeshift costume of black wool that was, if not entirely fireproof, not going to melt into his skin if it got exposed to heat. He also wore a black scarf he could tie around his face as a mask.

A crowd had gathered outside the library.

"What's going on?" he asked an old woman.

"Mass Destruction just went inside."

Mass Destruction. The villain who was terrorizing the city.

The doors to the library was closed, but Nadir found an open window on the side of the building. He hid his clothes in an alley, wrapped his scarf around his head, and climbed through the window.

He landed in an office, and had to find his way to the villain. That was easy once he got into the main hall. People were standing around petrified and Mass Destruction's voice echoed off the halls.

"...you feel safe? Do you believe your little heroes will come save you?"

Nadir put a finger to his lips so no one would tell on him as he moved closer.

"They will never defeat me. You will never see the end of me. Tell me. Do you want to live?"

Nadir turned a corner to see Mass Destruction talking to an old man standing with a young boy. The man nodded.

"Tell me why."

"I- I have a family. Grandchildren."

The villain turned his attention to the boy.

"Stop!" Nadir said when Mass Destruction reached out to grab the boy. "Don't touch him!"

The villain turned, a harsh smile on his face. "A hero! How exciting. Are you here to play?"

He grabbed a book off the shelf and threw it at Nadir, who ducked it with relative ease. The villain threw a few more.

"Come on now. Aren't you gonna attack me? Be a hero and kill the big bad villain?"

Somehow, Nadir had expected... more. Something crueler, something spectacular like the fight he had witnessed. Instead, Mass Destruction threw books.

"Is that what you want me to do?" Nadir asked. Some people were moving for the exit. "You want me to fight you?" Say yes, he thought. He was itching for a fight. "I won't. If you leave these people alone, I won't hurt you."

"Weak. I was hoping you'd be more fun."

Mass Destruction grabbed the boy by the neck, and Nadir's hands produced a burst of fire, grabbing the villain's attention and - fuck - hitting the books closest to him.

The fire was small. It could still be put out. But Mass Destruction reached for his gun. Nadir stayed still, watching him.

"Let the boy go."

Mass Destruction held the boy in front of him like a shield.

"No."

"I will burn you," Nadir warned.

"Then you'll burn him." He aimed the gun.

The fire was spreading through the bookshelves, from a small one to something dangerous. Sprinklers started showering them with water, and people were trying to get out.

Nadir grabbed the nearest bookshelf and pulled it down, shielding him from the shots. Mass Destruction fired at him. He could hear the boy struggling and the old man yelling. Nadir sent fire along the floor, under the shelf that was leaning diagonally on the next row.

"Let the boy go!" he yelled.

More shots. Nadir stayed behind the bookshelf.

"Come out so I can kill you," Mass Destruction yelled.

"I'll come out if you let him go," Nadir yelled back. The bookcase was burning rapidly and would soon have very little protection to offer.

"Come out now or I'm killing the boy!"

"Don't!" Nadir stood, still half crouched behind the burning bookcase. He kept his hands out in front of him in a placating way, showing he didn't have any weapons. At least - no weapons other than his hands.

Mass Destruction put the boy down, gun still aimed at Nadir.

The boy and the old man hurried towards the exit, and Mass Destruction fired a shot.

Nadir moved to the side, but not fast enough. The bullet hit him in the shoulder.

In a second, his arms were aflame, burning through his sleeves, feeding the fire around him. Mass Destruction took a step back. He looked scared.

Nadir aimed a hand at him in warning. Mass Destruction fired more shots. Nadir could feel them whistling past his head, and he let his power flow through his body and out his hands, not holding back.

Mass Destruction stumbled back, and Nadir followed him, burning him. The stench of melted plastic and charred skin added to the smoke. Nadir wanted to gag. This was not what he wanted. He wanted to be a hero, not - not this. Not a murderer. But Mass Destruction had taken so many lives. Maybe this was for the best.

Too late now, anyway. Nadir looked down at the lifeless body in front of him. Mass Destruction's costume was melted into his skin, his face twisted in pain. Should he help him? That was the right thing to do. No one deserved to be left inside a burning building like this, no matter who they were. But Mass Destruction's injuries were beyond saving, and there were more people in there that needed help.

Nadir turned away.

[hezuart]

Hezu, do you think it's possible to actually redeem the diamonds in Steven universe?

How would you do it?

Or would you not redeem them at all?

Oh well See, when I was watching the series, they made it clear that Blue and Yellow were going to be redeemed pretty early on.

They did a ton of bad stuff and thought in a poor way, but it was all blamed on White Diamond. Yellow and Blue were afraid of her for a reason. Yellow said everything she's done (destroy planets and kill biologics) is because White Diamond asked it of her. But Yellow was never good enough or praised for it. It was just expected, and if she fell out of line, she could be punished. Blue says they used to be close, at least, that's what she thought until she realized Pink Diamond was trying to make them better. Make them happier. She admits they aren't a happy family, maybe they never were. Blue confesses she's miserable, and she doesn't want to enforce White's rules anymore. When Stevonnie fuses in front of the Gala, it's clear that White Diamond is the most upset by this. Blue and Yellow whisper yell at them, in shock at the "inappropriate fusion". But it's clear that White Diamond is the one who enforced all this. She's the one who is constantly talking about "perfection" and "off-color". If you aren't pure white, a collection of every color, then you have a flaw. If you have to fuse, you are flawed and trying to be bigger and better by collecting other gems or colors. If your body is flawed, you must have limb enhancers to meet our standards. It's all White Diamond. Blue and Yellow were so adamant, everything was being pushed on White Diamond. She was the Queen enforcer. AND, if the other Diamonds didn't do what she said, SHE COULD LITERALLY STEAL THEIR FREE WILL FROM THEM AND CONTROL THEM LIKE PUPPETS.

White Diamond, is so genuinely fucked up on so many levels. She's also the one who manipulated Steven's mind, she hurt Pink Diamond and the others immensely, and she also almost killed Steven. Everything bad in Gem society was pushed to be HER fault. She started all of this, even if she herself maybe didn't actively participate. She's the catalyst.

And she gets redeemed because Steven told a joke (that actually, White Diamond shouldn't understand. There is no concept of children in gem society. They burst out of the ground, and that is how they are, they already know what they're supposed to be and do, and they will be like that forever. Calling Steven a "child" doesn't seem like something any gem should ever say except for those who stayed on Earth. White Diamond maybe looked at his memories, but even so, that shouldn't have been the first thing to come to her mind.)

The fact that she thinks she is "flawed" when she turns pink is also strange. Pink is not an official color of light. White says "Pink is a part of me that I must repress" already??? Kind of admitting?? Pink is like/// part of her??? And a flaw?? Her entire wording is really confusing and I don't understand what Rebecca was trying to make her say here. We never really established color importance in gem society until White Diamond. And if you don't understand the current science of it, you'll be pretty lost, and even then, I still don't understand what the hell White Diamond's reasoning is. Shouldn't we have a color-inferior class in society then? If she thinks White Gems are superior for absorbing all colors? Does that mean multi-colored gems are the lowest for being unable to absorb any of the colors? It doesn't make sense to me. You cannot turn back thousands of years of abuse, fusionphobia, colorism(???), mass genocide, and societal oppression with a joke. You can't do that. White Diamond just changes herself at the flip of a coin. She BLUSHES and goes through an existential crisis. And somehow, instead of getting defensive and doubling down like a proper narcissistic person would, she miraculously changes.

But actually, she doesn't. She still thinks biologics are disgusting. She's still awkward around fusions. She still thinks Steven belongs with her despite what she did to him. She thinks she can redeem herself by making people control her instead (and she is big, and beautiful, and perfect, and powerful, so she's just helping people be HER for a day so they can feel CONFIDENT .... wtf is this. Yellow Diamond is slaving away, physically piecing the shattered remains of gems back together to reverse her fucked up experiments one by one. Blue Diamond is offering therapy to those she has mentally affected in the past. White Diamond saying "here, control ME" is like... I don't see how this is supposed to help someone. Especially when we see Steven. Controlling someone who abused you in the past isn't healthy. That's just leaving them open to abuse your abuser. )

Sorry I rambled but long story short

Yellow and Blue's redemption is believable.

White's is not. White Diamond should have either gone insane and been locked up or bubbled away. This show has redeemed everyone, but not everyone WANTS to be redeemed. White has burned every bridge, and I don't think it's fair to rebuild them when she has not truly changed. She hasn't earned a redemption because she doesn't feel like she's actually changed or even really wants to. Steven Universe has erased every consequence to every action. Every single thing is fixable, (except Pink Diamond's death, which, by their logic is ironically ALSO VERY FIXABLE, but they pretend its not. They wanna have their cake and eat it too I guess)

But if you remove consequences and damage to people, you would just have chaos. No one can die. Any quarrels are temporary in the wake of immortals.

White Diamond should not have been redeemed.

[psychotic-nonsense]

Alright folks, I have a question for you. A dumb question, yes, but a question nonetheless.

In an alternate universe scenario - where such a situation arises, and no one ends up dying or seriously (physically) wounded - with the S4 Hawkins Party and Chrissy all bearing witness...

(Context below)

-----------

This is part of one of the oldest Stranger Things AU ideas I have.

Vecna, in a desperate attempt to distract/manipulate the town, decides to bring back every single person in Hawkins he's ever killed. Didn't matter the way, if the Upside Down killed them, they were back.

But they aren't exactly themselves. Their memories are locked away in their brains by those Upside Down slugs, all of them trapped in the same day as the dimension itself; November 6, 1983 (unless killed before this date). Alongside that, their bodies aren't theirs, and are instead exact replicas made purely of Upside Down goo. Vecna plans to gain the town's trust using them, and when the time comes, activate the slugs to turn the revived into his personal soldiers (think the season 3 Billy plot but without the flesh Mind Flayer)

Eddie wakes up in the forest, exactly how he is supposed to be. But when he discoveres Chrissy beside him, he panics, and tries to remember what happened. He's unable to, but he knows something is keeping the truth locked away. So, extremely painfully, he finds a way to extract the slug from his brain, freeing himself and his memories from Vecna's control.

But soon, Chrissy wakes up. One who's mind is stuck in 1983 and has no idea who Eddie is. Still, since they're all each other has, she decides to believe and trust him, eventually befriending Eddie all over again.

They spend their days walking through the woods, terrified to return to town. They need no food, and scrapes from the woods never go further than skin deep, yet they remain unaware of their undead status. Eddie spends the whole time theorizing, trying to figure out what purpose this could serve, and how to get back to the group without inciting mass panic.

That is until the group finds them. Everyone he fought alongside, traveling through the woods with Wayne Munson in tow. They're taking him to a hidden grave for Eddie, one far from the vandals in town, to give him a place to grieve in peace. They still can't tell him the truth of what happened, but hope that this makes up for the lies they keep spinning.

But Wayne's gone mad with his grief. He's brought a gun with him and points it at the group, demanding answers for what happened to his boy. Eddie watches in fear, urged away from intervening by Chrissy's own terror.

Just before things get too bad, Steve steps up. Takes the blame, says that it was his word that put Eddie in danger, and inevitably got him killed. The group tries to deny it, but Steve persists. Wayne needs someone to blame, so blame him.

And at first Wayne looks satisfied. He has an answer, finally, one that might actually be sincere considering Harrington's sobs as he confesses.

But his grief and pain and confusion and anger simply aren't. So he raises the gun, pointed right at Steve-

-and that's where Eddie intervenes. Shoving Steve out of the way, barely getting out a desperate "WAYNE, DON'T!!" ...before the gun goes off.

------------

After that, the story could go two ways.

The original outline - El goes with the group to Eddie's grave (for reasons I'm not sure of honestly). She watches the whole skirmish with Wayne, not wanting to expose him to her powers until she has to. When Wayne goes to shoot, she redirects his arm, just in time to catch Eddie in the leg.

In this one, Eddie's vocal. A screech of fear before he crumbles to one knee, hunched over and clutching at his leg, groaning in pain. Everyone can see him, hear him, and though they can't believe it, they know for sure it's Eddie. They saw him fall but they don't know how bad it is, and they're too shocked to come any closer.

The changed idea - El isn't there. Everything proceeds as before, with Wayne actually aiming for Steve's shoulder. Just a flesh wound, something to satisfy the squirming in his limbs. But due to Eddie's shove, his position is a little further to the left than Steve's, catching him straight in the heart.

In this one, Eddie drops, hard, with barely a sound. Everyone sees his side recoil with the impact, so they know exactly where he was hit. He lands on his front, the wind effectively knocked out of him, so he's gasping for air the whole way. Everyone sees his clothes, heard his voice, but they're almost hoping it's someone else, please don't let it be Eddie, please.

---------

No matter where Eddie gets shot, the story progresses the same.

Chrissy freaks out, running to Eddie and trying to help him, begging him to stay alive. Eventually he regains his bearings, slowly sitting up, hissing between gasping breaths with a hand clenched firmly over the wound. He slowly peels back his hand, terrified of what he'll see.

But beneath the hole in his clothes is... nothing. No blood, no bullet, no cuts. Just a steadily growing dark bruise, and the pain not progressing past an appropriate ache and some mild burning.

As he tries to process this, Eddie's eyes unfocus, and catch a slight glint of metal in the grass. With shaking hands, he grabs it. When he sees it, he hastily tries to stand, Chrissy rushing to help him. As they do, they turn just enough for everyone - from Wayne's trembling unmoving stance, to the group's collective huddle of fear, to Steve's laid out position on the dirt - to see what Eddie found.

The bullet. Or at least, what's left of it, its entire front bent flat.

Crushed upon impact with Eddie's skin.

[voxofthevoid]

Surprise Rut Wednesday #5! Seven chapters and 40k in, there's a light at the end of the tunnel...in that I think this will be over in 3 more chapters and an epilogue. I did not think the goddamn a/b/o fuckfest would end up novel length, but here we are.

For now, Gojou continues to happen to Nanami. Yuuji also continues to happen to Nanami. There's a lot of that going around.

“That was one hell of a show,” Gojou pipes up, his timing as eerie and as horrendous as always. “Never thought you’d be such a slut, Nanami.”

“Watch your mouth!” Kento snaps, resolutely ignoring a hot flush of shame and worse.

“I’d rather watch yours,” comes the nonsensical answer. And then Gojou goes and makes it worse: “He use that too? You do sound pretty wrecked. Or did he just fuck you that good? Yuuji’s a bit of an animal, looks like.”

Kento knows he’ll regret it, but he turns his head anyway, glaring at Gojou. His expression is controlled in a way that plays at insouciance, from tightly curled mouth to the heavy-lidded gaze, but it’s a superficial composure, everything from the Gojou’s scent to the blazing blue of his eyes lashing at Kento.

“Do not,” Kento grits out, “test me, Gojou Satoru.”

Gojou tilts his head to the side, and purposeful or not, it draws Kento’s eyes to the swollen, leaking glands there. “And what will you do to me, Nanami? What can you do, stuck on a knot like this. Think Yuuji will let you go? Doubt it. And you know, I can’t blame him. Even I’d be tempted, with how good you look taking cock.”

Kento growls.

Over him, Itadori echoes the noise. Kento can tell from the weight distribution that Itadori has raised his head, and the way Gojou’s eyes flicker up tells him all he needs to know about where Itadori is looking.

“Don’t be like that, Yuuji,” Gojou says, almost crooning. “It’s a compliment. You’ve turned Nanami Kento into this. Be proud. But you don’t care about anything other than a tight hole right now, do you?”

Kento listens with a sense of unreality that grows and grows with every word that comes out of Gojou’s mouth, and then it hits some mental wall, shattering to coalesce into blistering reality.

All these years, and he still manages to be surprised by this man’s audacity.  

“Do you hear yourself?” Kento finds himself asking. “He’s your student. And a child.”

“A child knot-deep in your ass,” Gojou says dismissively, still looking at Itadori; his eyes aren’t any kinder like this, but the heat in them is…different. “He’ll remember all of this anyway. Doesn’t matter how out of it he is now. It’ll all trickle back in, sooner than later. I’d know.”

Kento knows as well; he knew that getting into this.

He says nothing, and Gojou’s eyes flit back to him, not lingering long before they return to Itadori, and Kento doesn’t know what expression the boy’s wearing, what he must be feeling, but his scent tells its own tale, once again threatening to overpower both Kento’s and Gojou’s combined. He doesn’t mind the end result, but he’s endured enough to be wary of the implications, and that only worsens when Gojou tips his head back without looking away from Itadori, the sides of his throat seeming to pulse with a pheromonal surge.

“No,” Kento hisses. “Don’t you dare—”

“Ssh.” Gojou’s mouth parts on an exhale that’s more obscene than the various fluids staining Kento inside and out. “Don’t get all worked up, Nanami. You’ll set him off.”

“Fuck you,” Kento says succinctly.

Gojou laughs, genuinely pleased. His scent becomes a storm.

Itadori’s reaction is predictable.

Kento clamps his jaw shut, right in time for the furious tug at his rim to send an electric bolt up his spine. He shudders under Itadori, and it’s answered with skin and heat, one of Itadori’s arms tightening around Kento’s middle to press their bodies even more tightly together. Further down, it’s another matter, an endless mass of squirming sensation, and Kento knows the moment Itadori braces himself properly because it’s followed by a harsh twist of the hips that makes his vision flash white.

The knot is half deflated now, but that doesn’t mean it’s any kinder as it shoves against his hole from the inside, harassing muscles grown tender and sore around its own damning size, and Kento’s helpless against the way his walls clamp tight, less an attempt to keep Itadori in than a desperate need to not hurt. Itadori’s patience gives before Kento’s body does, and he knows what’s coming the moment the weight on his back vanishes.

“Itadori, wait,” Kento chokes out, and that’s all he manages before Itadori pulls out, forcing Kento’s rim to yield against his blinding girth.

It pops free in a gush of come, and Itadori’s cock slides out and out and out.

Kento’s knees give out from under him.

Gojou fucking whistles, again. “Now that’s something.”

Kento doesn’t have the air to tell him to shut up, and then he doesn’t even have the air to even breathe because Itadori wants back inside him, of course he does, careless with greed and youth, and Kento tries to resist, rising with the hands pulling his hips high into the air, and he gets his hands on the headboard, wood creaking under his grip, and that’s as far as he gets before Itadori’s pushing into him, no hint of softness left in the lock that cleaves through him in a searing slide.

And it hurts, but it’s easy to take, Kento already wet and open, but then there’s the knot, still a vicious bulge as it nudges his hole and gets nowhere, no matter how furiously Itadori growls and grinds his hips.

Kento swallows a scream.

The air is simmering, lining his nose and throat with an unholy medley of scents.

“Gojou-san,” Kento manages to gasp. “Your scent.”

“Sorry, Nanami,” Gojou says, and there’s not an ounce of repentance there, but there is sincerity. “This is officially out of my control.”

Kento doesn’t know if he’s talking about his scent or Itadori’s reaction, and then it ceases to matter because Itadori starts fucking him in earnest, his long cock plunging in and out of Kento with a viciousness that turns his sore muscles blissfully numb for a few seconds before the same old heat eats through them, and his knot slams against Kento’s hole, over and over and over, and each time, Itadori stops and shoves, desperate from the hands clawing at Kento’s hips to the tight sounds writhing in the air, and sometimes, he sounds almost confused, whining like a wounded thing as he tries and fails to bully his way into Kento’s too-tight body.

And Kento can’t even blame him because he’s taken it before, that same flesh now blocking Itadori’s knot opening up around its hotly swelling girth, but he can’t, not now, not like this; he can feel Gojou’s attention like acid, flaying flesh and bone.

He can’t relax.

Itadori’s in no state to understand that.