#I'm still not entirely clear on what the rapture even IS

[betty-bourgeoisie]

I have tried so so hard at multiple points through out my life to understand just like... the basic facts of the Israel Palestine conflict, but every time I feel like I'm getting close someone will bring up some religious belief that's influencing it, that I, as someone who was raised very much outside of any Abrahamic religion, have absolutely no understanding or context for and I feel like I have to start all over again.

Like I can not be the only one who feels this way. Isn't there a 101 primer out there for those of us who simply didn't grow up in these communities?

[syd-vixious]

you mentioned a while back making a yandere! atlas.. yes !!! i love the first 2 games so much and just watched a burial at sea atlas moments video.. hcs or oneshot, just any content with him would be so so cool! maybe the reader is similiar to jack's/elizabeth's position, someone hes supposed to guide but then gets a little too attached to

A/n: Hi anon! Thank you for the request and sorry it took so long! My life has been really hectic and all over the place recently. But I'll do my best to fulfill your request to the best of my ability! 🫡

P.S. I'm gonna try to make this as gender neutral as I can but it might lean more towards afab!reader due to some of the lines Atlas says to Elizabeth in the dlc. (It's been a minute so sorry if any of this feels rushed or incomplete)

Finders Keepers

You quickly entered the elevator, barely managing to escape the splicers and big daddies that seemed to be around every corner. Despite the predicament you were in, and how many wounds you didn't have enough medical supplies to patch up, you still made it to some kind of safety.

"I can't help Sally if I'm just like everyone else down here," you sighed, "I can't even get back to where I was.."

You leaned against the railing, exhausted to no end as you felt the elevator move to its destination. You groaned internally as you heard the crackle and scratch of the walkie on your hip awakening.

It was that bastard, Atlas.

"If you don't mind me askin', love: why you talkin' to nobody? If I had pegged you for a loon, I might've had second thoughts on our 'arrangement.'" He spoke with a tone that had you gritting your teeth.

You scoffed, "I'll hold up my end. But I better find the girl the way I left her."

"You're in no position to make demands. But I must confess, I do like a bit o' sass in a lass."

You rolled your eyes as you could hear the smirk on his face. Groaning in annoyance, you reloaded your revolver and crossbow. You have to be prepared for anything in this sick and twisted society.

You stepped out of the elevator, thinking you’d be prepared for anything until a pissed off Big Daddy came charging in your direction, not seeing much of a difference between you and some of the splicers that dwelled down here.

You began to run, trying to put as many obstacles between you and the giant creature as possible. You were successful for a while until you were trapped in an old bar, a couple buzzed up splicers clinging to the ceiling with their rusty hooks.

For a moment, you thought you might’ve lost the big guy, until a loud groan and a hard hit to the middle of your back sent you flying into the shelves of liquor. Glass shattered against your skin as they began to sink in and the world became darker around you…

*Time skip to two weeks later*

It felt like your head was buzzing. Your brain pounding in your skull as if it was being asked to be let out. Your body felt sore, the world around you slowly fading into existence as you slowly regained consciousness.

"Folks say it's only a matter of time until Atlas's entire mob comes out waving the white flag..." The announcer on the radio in front of you said before fading out into static.

You groaned from the sharp sound, brows pinching together from the pain in your head. You went to raise your hand to hold your head only to realise you were tied down on a chair.

Once your vision became clear, you could see the shadow of a man smoking a cigarette in front of you, a Rapture building crumbling to pieces just outside the window.

"Two weeks.." said the man.

"Huh.. w-what..?" You grunted.

"You've been down two weeks, love. Feckin' doctors, better off hiring monkeys if they're gonna harm what's mine in the same way." It took a moment before you realised Atlas stood in front of you.

You groaned, glaring at the back of the man's skull, "Our deal was to get you out of prison. What did you expect? To win your little civil war for you too?"

He chuckled, throwing his cigarette onto the ground, not needing to stomp on it due to the water leaking through the cracks in the ceiling.

"No, no, no," he turned around, slowly walking into the standing light that was shining in your face the whole time, "You see, that was the plan at first. To have you find my Ace in the Hole and bring Ryan down alongside the other pricks that dwell down here."

He slowly stalked towards you, resembling a hungry lion hunting its gazelle. "However, things change and unfortunately," he slammed his hands onto the arm rests your wrists were still tied to, causing you to jump in your seat, "you ain’t got a choice in the matter."

He stood up straight, circling you with a glint in his eye that you couldn't quite make out. "So now, lass, you belong to me."

You couldn't tell if the bumps on your skin were from the cold air or his words.

"Wait, what? The hell are you talking about? We had a fucking deal, Atlas!" You grunted, shifting uncomfortably in your seat.

He placed one hand on your thigh the other on your chin, his cigarette and alcohol-laced breath fanning your face, "I need you to get something through your pretty skull of yours, love. You will listen to me, you only belong to me. And if you don’t follow those simple, little rules…”

He takes a step back, grabbing one of the lobotomy tools on the table, “…I’ll take matters into my own hands.”

[theboywithburninghands]

Okay. Executive decision. Posting the first chapter of my two-parter here, because I'm loaded with caffeine and I want you guys to see what I've been up to all week. Uh it's pure Funnybunny, so sorry if you wanted some Ragatha romance stuff... Uhhhhhh also like... it's a bit long? And character driven rather than romance driven. Hope you like it anyway! Oh and I'm linking the AO3 if you'd prefer that. T/W: Mild cartoon violence, self hatred, a sex joke

https://archiveofourown.org/works/55822147/chapters/141729268

Like Rhinestones, Falling From the Sky (Part 1)

he grounds of the Digital Circus had two states. Daytime and sunny, nighttime and clear. It was a constant that no one bothered to disturb. Caine could grant a lot of requests around the circus, but rarely in any way the asker might want. Ask for a few wildflowers to add some color on the grounds? Congratulations, now there was an entire field of flowers, flowers that smelled like cheap, nose-tickling perfume and grew so thick and snared that it was impossible to walk around outside. Ask for a cool, dim day because you wanted a nap? Hey presto, now the entire circus was engulfed in an impenetrable fog that made Silent Hill look like the Aouzou Strip. The performers all followed the same motto when it came to the weather:

If it’s already broken, don’t break it any more. 

Due to this motto being in place, it was a complete mystery as to why all the performers were shaken awake early one morning by a skull-rattling crash of thunder. 

Kinger was the first out of his room, bursting through his door with a melodramatic wail.

“They’ve finally arrived! The harvest has commenced! They want ALL of our garmonbozia!!!”

Zooble was out of their room next, screwing their head back on their torso and limping over to the eldest performer.

“Relax! Chill the f#%@ out, old timer, it’s just thunder.” they snapped, still not quite awake. 

As if on cue, another rapturous tremor of thunder tore through the air, Ragatha emerging from her room and staring worriedly at the ceiling before joining the group.

“Are you guys okay? That’s some crazy weather we’re-“

Ragatha let out an “eep!” as Kinger seized her by the front of the dress.

“Ragatha! We’re under attack! What’s Morse code for SOS?!”

Ragatha gently took hold of Kinger’s wrists and guided them off of her dress. She smiled and her voice took on a warm, fuzzy tone. 

“Hey… no one is attacking us, Kinger. It’s probably been ages since you’ve heard a thunderstorm, hasn’t it? There’s nothing to be afraid of.” she cooed.

“Unless that’s what they want you to think.” came a slippery voice from behind her. Jax leaned against the wall, one foot flat against it. He sported a tired but nonetheless smug grin. 

“Jax, quit it. Can’t you see he’s scared?” Ragatha chided, but Jax continued as if she hadn’t spoken, walking right up to Kinger. 

“Who knows, maybe they’re after your bug collection, Kinger, or- OW!”

Zooble silenced Jax with a single, well aimed punch to the cheek. 

“Can you shut up? It’s too early for your schoolyard bull#%&$.” Zooble drawled. 

Jax massaged his cheek and gave a petulant “Jeez…” under his breath. Pomni was out of her room next, stirred from sleep like the rest of them. Her black eyelids hung over her eyes like an eclipse, and she dragged her body over to the others as if it had weights tied to it. 

“Hey, morning, Sunshine!” Jax smirked, a hand still on the cheek Zooble punched.

“Go #%&$ yourself…” Pomni mumbled, staring off into the void. 

“YEESH, everyone is crabby this morning. I can’t even say hello withou-“

KRK-BOOOOOOOMMMM!

A peal of thunder like a boulder tumbling into a dump truck shook the air again, everyone instinctively covering their ears (or where their ears should have been.)

“Okay, we should see what’s going on! Maybe it’s part of a new adventure..?” Ragatha proposed as soon as the rumbling subsided. 

“Wait! Where’s Gangle?!” Kinger cried.

There was a soft click as the door to Gangle’s room was opened just a crack, the ribbon girl peering just one eye out and trembling like a leaf. 

“What’s happening…?” she mewled. 

Zooble pressed their foot on top of Jax’s to keep him from speaking up. 

“It’s just a storm, Gangle… We’re gonna go see what’s going on. You wanna come with?” Ragatha smiled and approached Gangle’s door, offering a hand. Gangle gulped and took Ragatha’s hand with one of her ribbons.

“Okay…” she whimpered. 

Jax made a “gag me” motion but remained quiet. 

The six performers headed out into the main room, nearly tumbling onto the chessboard floor from another apocalyptic boom of thunder.

“Does this sort of thing ever happen out of nowhere..?!” Pomni shouted, her crabbiness from lack of sleep bubbling over.

“Didn’t you hear Caine when you first got here? ‘THE AMAZING DIGITAL CIRCUS IS A PLACE WHERE ANYTHING CAN HAPPEN!’ Chaos is sorta par for the course.” Jax replied. His impression of Caine was actually pretty good, and might have made Pomni smirk a bit if she wasn’t so irritable. 

“Jax is right,” Ragatha chimed in from further ahead. “Around here you have to expect the unexpected, and prepare for what isn’t there.” 

“Yeah, but the way I said it wasn’t stupid.” Jax replied. 

The six of them reached the tent’s exit. It was zipped closed, but quavered feverishly. A small pool of rainwater oozed through the bottom of the flap, occasionally lit bright pearly blue by unseen flashes of lightning from outside. 

“Okay, so it’s definitely storming. Now we know.” Jax drawled, crossing his arms. 

“See Kinger? No one is coming, it’s just bad we-“

Another tremendous crash of thunder interrupted Ragatha, and a half-second later, all of the lights in the tent sputtered and died. The only light left was the heavily censored sunlight from outside filtering under the tent flap. 

“I f#%&$ng hate it here…” Zooble sighed. 

“Okay, no one wander off. Let’s all stick together and find our way back to our rooms…” Ragatha began.

Gangle jolted with a yelp. “Someone grabbed me!”

“Jax!” Zooble growled.

“It wasn’t me! I’m all the way back here, Hodge-Podge!” Jax retorted from the darkness. 

“It was me, Gangle! I grabbed your hand…” Ragatha interjected. “I’m sorry, I thought you would need a hand to hold.”

“Tha-That’s not my hand-”

The performers squinted as a corona of light bloomed in the middle of the room. From the center of the ring, Bubble appeared, glowing with an iridescent, rainbow colored light.

“And God said, let there be LIGHT!” he announced, his squeaky voice echoing throughout the tent.

“DON’T BE RIDICULOUS BUBBLE! IF ANYONE’S GOD AROUND HERE, IT’S YOURS TRULY!” Caine floated down from on high, emitting his own faint light, just enough so he could be seen clearly against the backdrop of darkness. 

“There is no God here…” Zooble muttered.

“Amen.” added Pomni.

“SO MY LITTLE SUPERSTARS! IT SEEMS YOU’VE ALL BEEN MADE AWARE OF OUR INCLEMENT WEATHER!” Caine unzipped the tent entrance. The sky was charcoal black and arcing with threads of lightning. Rain slashed across the grounds in great sweeps and the howling wind eagerly pushed its way into the tent, bringing in a spray of raindrops that doused the six performers, who covered their faces and demanded Caine close the tent again, which he thankfully did after just a few seconds.

“BUT NOT TO WORRY! WHILE I FIX THIS BROUHAHA, YOU ALL-”

He paused for another crash of thunder. 

“-YOU ALL WILL BE ENJOYING AN ADVENTURE!” 

“La dee da.” Jax drawled.

“SO, PLEASE ENJOY YOUR TIME IIIIN-”

Caine snapped his fingers. There was a moment or two of silence before Caine looked down at his fingers and snapped once again. Then again. 

“Huh. That was supposed to open a portal.” Caine said sheepishly. 

“Did you try turning it off and on again?” Bubble asked, squinting one eye.

“Havin’ issues there, Caine? It’s alright, it happens to guys your age.” Jax said with a grin. Pomni felt the corners of her mouth raise, despite herself. 

“I DON’T APPRECIATE YOUR INNUENDO, JAX!” Caine declared, brandishing his cane with a trembling hand. He tried a few more futile finger snaps. 

“So, we’re stuck here..?” Gangle asked, wringing her ribbons together. “In the dark..?”

There was an ill-timed crash of thunder that made her jump and squeak a little too loudly. She covered up her mask as bright pink blush marks formed under her eyes.

“Yeah, I’m with Ribbons, Caine,” Jax said, jabbing a thumb at Gangle. “Everybody knows monsters like the dark since it’s easier to hide.”

“Okay, cut the Twilight Zone bull$#!%.” Zooble scoffed.

“As someone who’s actually seen The Twilight Zone,” Ragatha piped up. “The quote is ‘There’s nothing in the dark that wasn’t there when the lights were on.’ So we’re fine, Gangle. It’s just us.” 

“Nerd.” Jax replied.

In the midst of this whole exchange, Caine had snapped his fingers a good two dozen times before clapping his hands to his face/teeth and bellowing in frustration. 

“Excusemeforjustonesecond!” he spat before disappearing in a flash of light and some confetti. Bubble looked around, barely managing a “Bye-!” before popping, dousing the light and plunging the room back into darkness.

There was a moment or two of silence before another peal of thunder shook the tent. Gangle let out a quiet, uneasy groan as everyone tried to get their bearings in an almost total absence of light. 

“I’m going back to bed.” Zooble announced flatly. The only indication that they were leaving was the sound of careful footsteps receding into the black.

“Wait, can you find your way there?” Pomni asked. 

“I’ll figure it out.” Zooble replied, nothing but a voice from the darkness. Pomni listened to their receding footsteps before she began to pace back and forth. 

“I can’t believe it, he just left us here. Not even a flashlight! Isn’t this place supposed to be magic?! How does the power even go out?!”

“It is the first time I’ve ever seen this happen since I’ve been here…” Ragatha admitted. “What about you, Kinger? You ever seen anything like this?”

“Right now I don’t see much of anything…” Kinger replied matter-of-factly. 

Another roar of thunder, Gangle making an unhappy noise and clinging to Ragatha. Since it was dark, Jax couldn’t see, and thus couldn’t tease her for it. Ragatha patted her on the mask. 

“I don’t want to go off by myself… What if something happens?” she whimpered.

“Come on, Crybaby, you’re not seriously worried about monsters, are ya?” Jax drawled. 

“You’re the one that put the thought into her head, Jax.” Pomni replied. 

“I was joking .” Jax snarked, as if it was the most obvious fact since “water happened to be a little damp.”

“Jokes are supposed to be funny.”

“Yeah?” Jax’s tone darkened. “Well unfortunately, Clownface , the funny guy-”

They were interrupted by a dry, metallic scratch and a spark of orange light. Kinger held a silver lighter in his hand, which supported a tiny yellow-orange flame. 

“…That’s my lighter.” Jax said after a moment. “Where did you get my lighter?!”

“Wait, Jax, why do you have a lighter at all?” Ragatha interjected. 

“None of your business. You need to stay outta my stuff, Hoo-Hah.” Jax took a few steps towards Kinger. 

“I only found it.” Kinger said, taking an equal number of steps back.

“Bull. I don’t leave my stuff layin’ around. Hand it over.” Jax stuck a gloved hand out. 

Kinger looked down at the lighter, then to Jax, who put his hand forward more insistently. Kinger snapped the lighter closed, smothering the fire and disappearing into darkness. 

“Hey! Where’d you go?!” 

“Kinger, wait! We need the light! Don’t go!” Gangle begged. 

There was a grunt and a crash somewhere in the dark, the thunder replying in kind. Another dry, metallic scratch and Kinger reappeared, illuminated orange and standing over by Gangle and Ragatha. 

“What was that?!” he cried, stiffly holding the flame out in front of him. 

“It was me, you moron!” Jax’s irritated voice called out from somewhere in the void. “I couldn't see my hand in front of my face! Now hand over my lighter before I-”

Kinger yelped and snapped the lighter closed again.

“Both of you, stop it!” Pomni shouted. “Jax, I don’t give a $#!% if it’s yours or not, it’s all we’ve got for light right now, so quit acting like a p&!€# for two god&@#% seconds! Kinger!” 

They heard the jester take a breath and soften her voice. 

“Kinger. We need the lighter to see. Can you please turn it back on so we can at least get back to our rooms?”

There was a pause, another rumble of thunder, and at last, a metallic flick as the lighter sparked again. Kinger’s hands shook. 

“Thank you…” Pomni said with a weary smile. “Lead the way, if you don’t mind.”

The five performers made their way towards backstage, slowly and methodically in the cavernous tent. They passed an overturned pile of brightly colored shapes, Jax delivering a well aimed punt to a mint-colored cylinder, which sailed off into the darkness and landed out of sight with a drumroll of thuds. 

“Was that the thing you tripped over?” Ragatha asked, her smile audible in her voice. 

“Felt like kickin’ something.” Jax replied tartly. 

After a few minutes of careful maneuvering amidst peals of thunder, the five of them made it to the corridor backstage.

“Well… what do we do now..?” Pomni asked.

“Do we have to do anything?” Jax replied.

“Well… not really. But I think it might be fun to have a slumber party!” Ragatha said brightly. 

“No offense, Ragatha, but I don’t know if any of us are really in a party mood…” Pomni said, rubbing her left arm with her right hand. 

“No, no, it doesn’t have to be an actual party. We can all just hang around in my room! I’ve got some candles we can light so we can see, and I’ll teach you guys how to make a blanket fort-” 

“You have candles?” Pomni interrupted. “Oh, that’s really good news… Now we don’t have to sit around in the dark. How many do you have, Ragatha?”

“Oh gosh, um…” Ragatha rubbed her chin with her hand. “30? No, 40!” 

There was a period of silence. Kinger held the lighter out so she was illuminated. 

“What?” Ragatha asked, putting her hands on her hips defensively. “I need to de-stress every once in a while too, y’know!” 

“If the tent ever burns down, we know who to blame.” Jax quipped. 

“Oh stop it!” Ragatha flapped her hand dismissively.

“Can… we have a few? Just to have a little bit of light around here…” Pomni asked, touching the tips of her fingers together. 

“Yeah! Absolutely, come on!” Ragatha led her fellow performers to her room, unlocking the door with a bit of flourish and motioning them inside. “After you!” 

The four of them entered her room, Kinger leading the way with the lighter. Ragatha’s bedroom was… on brand. In the dim light, they could make out some plastic furniture that would have been right at home in a dollhouse. A pink, squat tea table surrounded by some plush and frilly cushions. The table came complete with an old fashioned white China teapot and cups, a glazed pink and yellow flower painted on the side of the pot, and the rims of both the cups and pot were lined with gold leaf (or at least a serviceable imitation of it). In the opposite corner, a CRT television sat within a yellow floral patterned hutch, and a game console was hooked up to it. Her bed sat neatly made on the far end of the room, a canopy like Pomni’s, although striped with magenta and cotton-candy pink rather than red and blue. At the food of the bed sat at least a dozen stuffed animals, a teddy bear, a camel, a tiger, and more, all in a neat pile. While they should have looked cute and inviting in the light, in the near dark, they looked uncanny. Their shoebutton eyes caught the flame’s reflection in such a way that made them look insectoid, and their vacant, pleasant expressions staring off into nothing gave off the impression of someone who had lost their mind gazing into the abyss. 

Ragatha hurried over to the hutch, opening a drawer and taking out a brand new white candle. 

“Here’s my stash,” she chuckled, rummaging around in the drawer a bit more. “I have a couple that are scented too. Do you guys like… apple cinnamon or toasted marshmallow more? I’m more of a sandalwood gal myself…”

Jax made a noise of disgust. Kinger stared intently at a stuffed elephant, as if waiting for it to blink. 

“Nanny cam…?” he whispered to himself. 

There was a crash of thunder and everyone jolted. Gangle covered the top of her mask with her ribbons and Kinger fumbled with the lighter, managing to keep hold of it. 

“Good thing you have that, Jax. I just ran out of matches…” Ragatha sighed, setting up a neat cluster of candles 

“Okay, um, I think we should use a couple to light the hallway, if it’s okay with you…at least until Caine fixes things.” Pomni said. “Um, and if I could borrow one or two for my room-”

“Me too please.” Gangle chimed in, raising a ribbon. 

“I need to get my camping stove…” Kinger muttered, still engaged in a stare-off with Ragatha’s stuffed elephant. 

“K-Kinger, you have a camping stove?” Pomni asked. 

“The h@!! do you need one of those for?” Jax also asked, crouching beside Kinger to see what was so interesting about that and stuffed animal. 

“…In case the power goes out.” Kinger replied after a moment.

“This is the first time the power has ever gone out…” Ragatha admitted, but she smiled anyway. “I’m glad you’ve been thinking ahead though.”

Ragatha then gasped. “Oh! We can make tea! I have the best recipe I need to show you guys! It’s perfect for a day like today!”

“I’d like some tea. Something warm to drink would really hit the spot.” Pomni said with a faint smile. Gangle also nodded. 

“Hey, I got a suggestion too.” Jax called, raising a finger. 

In one swoosh, Jax snatched the lighter out of Kinger’s hands, closing it with a clink and extinguishing their one source of light. 

“Jax, hey! I can’t see!” complained Ragatha.

“My lighter, my rules. I’m heading back to my room.” he said.

“What…? Jax, you’re kidding. We need the lighter for just a little longer, then it’s all yours.” Ragatha insisted. 

“It’s already all mine. You stole it. So now I’m keeping it.” Jax replied from somewhere in the dark. 

“Jax, come on!” Pomni shouted. “Everyone could have light again if you would just-”

“Everyone will have light again when Caine gets the electricity working. Just be patient.” 

“But… But Jax…” Gangle began, her voice quavering. “I’m… I’m scared of the dark, please just let us light a few candles…”

“Nope. Your eyes should adjust soon enough.”

The sound of Jax’s retreating footsteps and the open and shut of the door were muffled by another churning rumble of thunder. Ragatha sighed from her place in the dark. 

“Well, don’t worry everyone. We can have a slumber party even in the dark. It’ll take a bit more time to set up and we can’t do as much, but-”

Everyone jumped at a sudden angry yell and thunk. Pomni punched the wall, then felt her way towards the door, throwing it open and stomping out into the hallway. 

“Pomni’s very angry.” Kinger said in a hushed voice. Ragatha set her candles down on the hutch, a few of them rolling off and clattering to the floor as she carefully made her way to her door in almost complete darkness.

“Pomni? Pomni, where are you going?” she called out into the hall. 

It wasn’t too difficult for Pomni to find Jax’s door feeling around in the dark, it was right across from her room, after all. Her right hand aching from punching the wall, she banged on his door with her left. 

“JAX! GET OUT HERE!” she bellowed. 

“Pomni, hey, it’s okay-!” Ragatha insisted, alarmed at the newest member’s sudden explosion of rage. 

“NO! No, it’s not okay! I’m sick to death of him acting like this! It ends right the #%@& now, you hear me?!”

Pomni shouted all this as she feverishly twisted the handle of Jax’s locked door. After several mighty turns, she scoffed and took a few steps back. 

“You wanna hide like a coward? Fine!” 

“What’s going on?!” Zooble’s voice shouted. They had poked their head into the hallway after hearing the racket outside. 

Pomni took another couple steps back until she was almost touching the opposite wall, then ran forward, barging Jax’s door with her shoulder. Thunder roared. 

“Pomni!” Ragatha cried, her voice cracking. “Pomni, what are you doing?! Are you okay?!”

Pomni took the same number of steps backwards and ran forward, smashing into the door again, eliciting a splintery crunch from the jamb. She backed up once again, both her right shoulder and right knuckle ached now, but she barely felt it. Truth be told she couldn’t pinpoint just one reason why Jax’s behavior had enraged her so badly. She was angry from lack of sleep, she was angry that Jax was being such a selfish bully for no reason, she was angry that he had the capacity for kindness and yet chose to act like this- 

Her rage burned blue-hot as she charged at the door, bracing her shoulder for impact. The impact never came. She sailed right past the point where she should have met hard wood, stumbling forward into a boneless somersault. She tumbled over herself and ended up in a sitting position. 

Jax’s room had incredibly faint daylight filtering in from his window. The sky was still the color of a dusty tire, mostly black with flecks of lights. Flashbulbs of lightning popped from within swollen thunderheads. 

Pomni heard the door shut behind her. In the faint light, she saw Jax turn the lock on his door before turning to look at her, arms crossed.

“You almost broke my door, newbie.” he said with almost parental condescension. 

Pomni didn’t say anything in return, only glaring. Anger prickled down her back. Thunder boomed. 

“You know what? Take it.” Jax took the lighter out of his pocket. It shined in the stormlight. “If you’re gonna throw such a hissy fit about something so tiny, you might as well have it so you don’t embarrass yourself more than you already have. Go on. I don’t want it anymore.” 

Jax held his hand out, the lighter on his palm. Pomni reared back and slapped his hand away, the lighter bouncing off the wall with a weighty thud, doing a few midair loops and finally skittering to a stop a few feet behind her.

“What the h@&&?! I gave you what-”

“SHUT UP!!!”

Pomni barked this order with such ferocity that Jax immediately fell silent. It seemed to have shocked the jester herself, as she took a moment to find her voice afterwards. 

“…Why? Why did you do that?” was all she managed to get out.

“I don’t like people touching my stuff.” came Jax’s reply. Despite his shock at being yelled at, he managed to keep his tone cool and even. There was a millisecond flash of lightning. Thunder rumbled.

“Not that. Just… why do you always..? I know you’re capable of being kind. I’ve seen it firsthand. They don’t do anything to you, Jax! So why do you just keep picking at everyone?”

“Because they let me.” 

Pomni felt her anger froth to the surface again. 

“Oh. OH. That makes perfect sense! So you’re cruel because you can be! Nice to know you’re just a sadist then! Ha! That saves me a lot of time, then! We’re through. Get outta my way.”

Pomni snatched the lighter off the ground and pushed past Jax.

“…I’m not a sadist.” he said without turning around. 

“You just said you’re cruel to people for fun. That’s the definition of a sadist!” Pomni unlocked the door to his room and placed her hand on the knob. 

“It’s not for fun.”

Her hand slid off the knob. There was a rolling growl of thunder. 

“So what is it then?!” Pomni turned back to Jax, walking up to him and poking him in the chest. “You keep changing your story! First it was ‘I want them to hate me instead of their situation,’ now it’s ‘I do it because I can.’ So what is it? Tell. Me. The. TRUTH.”

“You want the truth, huh?” Jax said. Half of his face was silhouetted in shadow, his tone steeped in frosty ire. 

“YES. Or you can forget about us. About all of this. It’ll be like we never met.” Pomni asserted. 

“FINE.” Jax hissed. He turned to the window, looking out on the maelstrom of clouds and wind and rain. Another blinding flash of lightning and grumble of thunder.

 “I… I hate myself.” 

For a good 10 seconds, the only sounds were that of the rain on the digital grass and the wind buffeting Jax’s window. 

“S-S-Say again?” Pomni finally asked.

“I hate myself.” Jax repeated, not taking his gaze off the storm. His affect was neutral, but his eyes were distant.

“You… hate yourself?” Pomni echoed. 

“Yeah.” 

The jester chewed on one of her gloves. A flicker of lightning and a softer, yet prolonged burble of thunder rolled across the grounds. She removed her glove from her teeth.

“How do I know that’s not a lie too?” she asked, looking intently at the floor. 

“It’s not.” Jax immediately replied. “I guess, just, believe me.”

Pomni continued chewing on one of her gloves. She jumped a little at an especially loud crack of thunder, but otherwise remained rooted to the spot. An excruciating minute passed.

“…Okay. You hate yourself.” Pomni finally conceded, throwing her arms out and letting her hands slap against her hips. “So?”

This query got Jax to turn towards Pomni. The icy glare on his face could have shriveled flowers. “The £@€# do you mean, ‘so?’” 

“Exactly what it sounds like.” Pomni shot back.

“So? You hate yourself so you treat everyone but me sometimes like trash?! What kind of excuse is that?”

The corner of Jax’s mouth twitched. She had prodded a nerve with that one. He turned back to the window, looking out on the storm-swept grounds. 

“Get outta my room.” he ordered.

“No.” Pomni said with a humorless laugh. “You seriously think I’m gonna go ‘Oh you poor baby, I didn’t know; all is forgiven?’ just because you said you hate yourself? It doesn’t work like that! I hate myself too and I don’t act a FIFTH as awful as you do!”

“What do you mean, you hate yourself..?” Jax demanded quietly. 

Pomni took a deep breath. Well, he had been honest with her. She waited for the latest boom of thunder to quiet down before continuing. 

“I don’t remember everything about outside… but I remember that before I came here I… I was alone. I never went out drinking or dancing; I had no one to go with. Hadn’t kept in touch with my college friends and didn’t associate with anyone at work. How could I? I never had anything to talk to my coworkers about, I never reacted right to anyone’s jokes, I only went to team building exercises if they were mandatory… But it wasn’t like they didn’t try! I got invited to dinner or to birthday parties, and I always said no, I was busy. You wanna know what I was doing?”

“Pomni-” Jax began 

“No! Ask me what I was doing!” 

Jax didn’t reply. Pomni finally shrugged after a moment and answered her own question with a phony smile.

“Nothing. £@€# all. I was doing sudoku, or watching a movie I had already seen, or scrolling on my phone in bed. And I hated myself for it! I would cry into my pillow, I was so lonely! I would tell myself how stupid, stupid, STUPID I was, and how I was an idiot who didn’t deserve friends! I had every opportunity to get out of the hole I dug for myself, and I didn’t, because I was scared they would hate me even more than I thought they already did.”

Pomni felt her anger rise once again.

“Uh huh. But guess what? I never picked on anyone. I never made anyone else feel worse! I hurt so badly some days I wanted to DIE and I still tried my best to smile and treat everyone around me like a PERSON! You hate yourself? SO F#%&ING WHAT?! That doesn’t give you the right to make everything around you worse!” 

Pomni panted, doubling over to catch her breath. She braced herself for some sort of projectile Jax might throw at her. Instead, he only stared at her before turning back to the window. Thunder rumbled. 

“I’m… sorry you hate yourself. Really. It’s the worst feeling. But it’d be so much better if you just… didn’t hurt people. Let them in and helped you heal. It’s what I needed, and now that I have friends…”

Pomni stopped herself. She stared down at the floor again. She hated eye contact already, eye contact after an argument was like staring at the sun.

“So… why do you hate yourself?” Pomni asked after some more silence. 

“What does it matter?” Jax replied. 

Pomni scoffed. “Don’t give me that. Has it occurred to you that I actually care about you? If I didn’t, why would I even be asking? Why would I have kissed you after you made me salmon a few nights ago? I like you, Jax. But you can be a real p&!@% sometimes, and that isn’t okay, even if your pain is real. Why do you hate yourself?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” Jax said firmly. 

Pomni let out a protracted sigh, chewing on the finger of one of her gloves and looking down at the floor one last time before looking back up at Jax. He was looking out at the storm.

“Okay. Thanks for at least giving me a real answer. I’ll bring your lighter back in a bit.”

Pomni headed for the door once again. She felt a hand touch her shoulder and she practically jumped out of her skin with a sharp gasp. She whirled around and took a few steps back, Jax pulling his hand back in shock. 

“W-What?! Don’t… don’t touch me!” she snapped reflexively. 

“…I’m…” Jax began. 

Pomni crossed her arms and waited, looking everywhere but in Jax’s face. 

“…I’m…” he tried again. “I’m not being… I’m not just being difficult. I don’t remember.”

Pomni quirked an eyebrow. “Don’t remember what?” 

“Why. I don’t remember why I hate myself. It’s just gone. Poof, right along with my name.”

Pomni licked her lips. She was thirsty from all the shouting. 

“You’re… being serious right now? You aren’t just trying to weasel your way-”

“No. No, I’m- I’m totally serious.” 

Pomni managed to look into his eyes for a moment. They were big, but his pupils were tiny despite the extremely low light. Just the way he’d looked after she had seen him have a nightmare. Scared. 

“…That’s horrible.” Pomni said, looking away after she began to feel itchy. “I… can’t imagine how horrible it must be to hurt and not know why… like a pain in a phantom limb.” 

Jax didn’t say anything, looking back out at the window. Lightning flashed, a bright pink-white splinter across the clouds, and there was a tremulous rumble of thunder that followed. 

“But… you shouldn’t take it out on people. Even if it makes the pain stop. There are other things you can do…” Pomni added. “And… And I’m willing to listen to you whenever you’re hurting. Even if I’m hurting too.” 

Jax looked back at the jester, who immediately stared down at the floor. 

“Why? You barely know me. You said it was so hard to make friends back in the real world. What makes me so special?”

Pomni swallowed. She really needed something to drink. 

“I know. That it’s bizarre for me to like you when I’ve always had such a hard time. But… I want to help you anyway. Isn’t that weird?”

She managed a smile and to look him in the eyes again. Jax gave a short “heh…” and looked away this time. 

“Thanks, Pompom.” he said.

“Anytime, Bunny-Boy.” 

The two of them shared an awkward chuckle. Pomni cleared her throat.

“Um… do you want to come with me? I’m gonna go have tea with Ragatha and the others…”

“I think I’m okay…” Jax replied. 

“Jax, come on. It’ll be fun… Please?” 

Pomni offered a hand. 

“Alright, alright. But only ‘cause you said please.”

Jax took the jester’s hand, Pomni sparking the lighter and leading the way back to Ragatha’s bedroom.

[just-another-star-47]

🌶🌶 🔞 🌶🌶

Disclaimer: Please be aware that the following story is fiction and fantasy and written with the mindset, that Sebastian could never do anything that MC truly dislikes. Scenes like that need communication and clear boundaries in real life, so please reflect on the things you read.

Because I never hated you

Punishment

Because the poll wasn't so clear, there's a little sweet moment at the end. The rest is just angry Seb doing naughty things. 😅

She lay stretched out on the rumpled sheets, hands tied to the end of the bed, her whole body trembling from the last orgasms Sebastian had tickled out of her.

"I can't take more..." her voice was nothing than a pitiful whimper, her inner thighs sticky and quivering as she tried to move them.

"I'm not finished yet."

The cigarette he'd lit while her mind and body bathed in the heady after-effects of absolute bliss, hung between his lips and she hated how unimpressed he looked.

"Isn't it enough already?" she tried to protest again, stammering, but Sebastian just shook his head and calmly took a puff from his cigarette while his thumb traced circles over her clit.

"Not at all."

"Not at all?" Her startled words were drowned out by an exasperated gasp, as his fingers, which had remained still inside her until then, began to thrust deeper again. It was impossible to describe the feeling they were causing at this point. A mixture of absolute exhaustion and an equally fulfilling desire to experience the all-consuming ecstasy of another orgasm. Add to that the slight onset of pain from long overtaxed muscles and the shame of feeling his cool gaze on her while she whimpered and squirmed, not knowing whether her hips should push against the movements of his fingers or avoid them. A decision that was pointless to think about, as her body always decided in favour of the former.

She had long since realised that Sebastian was really angry, even if she didn't really understand the nature of the punishment.

Once again, her body tensed up before it began to pulsate in another high, her moans now almost stifled by the too much of everything.

Sebastian remained silent and when she looked at him with hazed eyes, he calmly returned her gaze, formed a ring of smoke and put his cigarette between his lips again. Perhaps this behaviour was the real punishment.

"I hate you..."

It was the last, cheap rebellion of her pride as her legs began to tremble again and she strained against the restraints on her wrists. But instead of having any effect, her statement made Sebastian laugh, rubbing his fingers against the most sensitive spot inside her to show her what he thought of her words.

"And because you hate me, you mess with older people who talk rubbish about me, huh?"

His laughter was replaced by a dangerous flicker in his eyes as he rammed his fingers deeper into her, making her gasp.

"I don't know what your fucking problem is."

Her defiance and resistance were feigned and her body, quivering with exhaustion and delight, gave it away.

"The problem is that you never think before you do something stupid. And that you've hurt yourself, beeing this stupid."

His anger spread from his eyes to his face and finally to his entire body like wildfire, blazing in his every move and in the way he forced her to a high again. But she welcomed the fire, much more comfortable burning than freezing to death from the chill of his rational rage.

"Don't.ever.do.that.again!"

Sebastian reinforced each of his words with a well-directed stroke of his fingers until his rhythm swelled and merged into her cries of rapture.

He leant his forehead against hers, his cigarette smouldering forgotten in the ashtray, his fingers running over her tear-stained cheeks and her bursted lip.

The sight of the latter alone made him think of starting the punishment all over again.

But the look in her eyes stopped him, completely exhausted she tried to blink away the tears that were proof enough that her body was incapable of dealing with the intensity of her feelings and emotions.

"I can take care of myself." The soft sound of his voice enveloped her like the smell of tobacco, which she had loathed before she knew Sebastian. Unable to answer, she let his soft lips run over her face, over her closed eyelids, to the tip of her nose and along the trail of her tears until they touched her lips softly like butterfly wings.

"Come here..." with whispered words he pulled her towards him, undoing the restraints on her wrists and wrapping her body in one of the blankets.

"I never want to see you put yourself in danger again because of a few stupid words. Do you understand me?"

She wanted to reply that it was just a busted lip and that she couldn't stand other people talking badly about him.

But instead she snuggled closer to him, knowing that he would hold her in his arms for as long as she needed to recover.

More of 90s Seb here.

[secret-smut-sideblog]

To Build A Home

Gale x F! Tav (named)

(Child Of Dawn series, Part 5)

PG-13 religious trauma, complicated feelings, tenderness (platonic and romantic), love proclamations

The wound in her chest healing, Aurum confronts the ties that still bind her. And with Mystra's new expectations given, Gale cannot wait any longer to tell her of his feelings...

Masterlist, Prev Chapter

-

Sat in waist high grass, she waited.

World still dark, head bowed, hands resting in her lap.

As soon as the crown of the sun's head rose over the mountain, the hymn began. Low, distant, but gaining power.

Her flock calling for her.

She responded in the old song. Heart aching with loss, anger, regret. Fury at being here again, at herself for re-looping this cut thread around her wrist.

But, more than anything, ashamed at the relief. The feeling of not being alone. That her convocation was with her again.

Their voices strong, surrounding her in rapturous wordless prayer. Her own voice rising high above, feeling their devotion like lovesick children.

Tears streamed down her face, bitter and tender in equal parts.

As the sun, the true sun, fully crested the sky, their voices faded into the ether. Gone until the next morning.

Gripping at her weathered holy robes, her tears fell silent.

"I am not your savior." She whispered to the crickets, to the waving grass.

Her chest still ached, both in restraining the sun inside and the deep fracture that struck down it.

She had gone too far and she couldn't go back now. Unless devine intervention struck, the sun had been rose. And a false sun cannot set.

Reawakening had been what had saved him from the shadow curse, but at such a cost. She could never tell him the extent of the choice she had made that day.

Clenching her fist, she cried. So close. She had been so close to being out.

But what was done is done. Now she had to learn to live with it again.

Rising her palm to the sun streaked sky, she let the sigil of Lathander burn above her.

Maybe he would be more forgiving than Amauntor. The same god she is sworn to in essence, but a different facet. She did call upon some level of his power already.

But could the false sun turn him from her? The blasphemy seated inside her chest.

A dome of light covered the entire of the clearing as she hushed the incantation, lifting the ends of her hair.

She closed her eyes and tried to channel him, palm burning in defiance already.

Only when her chest began shrieking in indignant betrayal did she release. But she felt it, if just for a moment.

"Aurum?"

She turned her head, letting the spell fall away. Smiling warmly at the legs approaching in the grass.

"How'd your hunt go?"

Astarion flopped down next to her with a sigh, stretching long legs out.

"That good, huh?" She teased, resting her head on his shoulder. He leaned his head in kind.

They sat quiet like that for a moment, tall grass waving around them. Hidden away in a small pocket of the earth.

"I missed this." He sighed, lacing their hands together. "And I didn't even remember it. Isn't that silly? Missing something that you forgot you had."

Aurum hummed in agreement. She felt the same, tenderness between friends was something she could barely recall. But her heart ached for it all the same.

"So, how's the hopeless pining going?" He teased, knocking his knee against hers.

"Oh, about as well as your hunting."

He scoffed, and she laughed.

"I'm well enough that you can feed on me again, Astarion. I promise."

"I'll take you up on that offer. But you're avoiding my question, you're oh so good at that."

She sighed, turning to face him. Picking up pieces of grass and laying them in a line on her knee.

"It's just so complicated. There's so much going on even outside of my internal problem. The Absolute, the tadpoles, the orb... Gods don't even get me started on Mystra and her order to detonate it! The bitch..."

"Language!" Astarion admonished.

"Oh her and I would have words, I promise you that. It's just..."

As she trailed off he squeezed her hand in encouragement.

"I don't know how much Gale wants me or he wants another Mystra, you know?"

Astarion hummed in agreement.

"I think on some level he sought me out as a replacement. Another goddess to worship. Gods the way he looked at me in those early days, I felt like I was back in the temple in Waterdeep."

She looked up at him, smiling sadly.

"I wish he could see me the way that you can. Messy, imperfect, honestly a little annoying."

Astarion snorted. "A little?"

She pinched his thigh.

"I just... I don't want to be a devine messenger anymore. Though it seems that may be my fate."

She felt tears threatening. "I wish things could be any other way."

The sun flared in her chest, and she cupped her hand over it.

He put his hand over hers.

"I hear you."

She smiled, pressing her forehead to his.

"Thank you."

They took another moment of comfortable silence. Connected to one another.

"Let's go back to camp, darling. Before we get ticks."

She laughed, wiping her eyes on her sleeve.

"True, we only have enough room for one bloodsucker around here."

"Absolutely vile feedback, my dear."

He pulled her up by their clasped hands. Thumb rubbing hers as they walked. The risen sun at her back, they returned to their small noisy, messy world.

-

"One moment with you could sate me for a lifetime, and prise the fear from my heart. I'm so very glad you came, to share this with me."

Aurum's heart ached, finding his words to be true. The canopy of Weave he had constructed floating over her, blanketing the sky in ribbons of blue and purple.

"I know this is all unreal, but I created it for you. You must know that you're..." He paused, face tensing. "That you're very special to me."

She pulled her bottom lip into her teeth, not voicing her underlying thoughts but still feeling them.

"If things were different, if we were home, I'd have taken the time to do things properly. To say it all better. But time is short."

His soft brown eyes fell on her then, face strained.

"I'm in love with you." A near whisper.

She knew he was, had known for a while. In the way all devotees love their object of worship.

She took his hands and kissed him deeply.

"I don't think I can be what you want from me." She hushed against his lips, pulling away slightly. "I can't be your new goddess, Gale."

He took a sharp breath in, but didn't pull away.

"I know. I'm sorry. I've put you in an unfair position."

Relief flooded through her at his admission.

"If we do this, we must be equals. I cant..." She paused, tears threatening. Turning her face down.

"I can't take being held above anymore. It hurts too much."

He cupped her face, bringing her eyes back up to his.

"I can love you as mortals do, I promise I can."

A knot in her throat silenced her for a moment.

"I think I could love you the same if you'll still have me." She hushed.

He laughed softly

"Of course I'll still have you. Gods, that's a relief. It would be a shame to spend my final hours making an ass of myself."

Aurum giggled, wiping her tears with her fingers.

"Well, I had planned to bond with you the way gods do. But given the circumstances that would be rather ill mannered, wouldn't it?"

He offered his hand to her, pulling her up.

"So you've caught on." She teased.

He scrunched up his nose in that playful way she adored.

"But if you'll allow me, I'd still like to take you somewhere. How about the perfect night in Waterdeep? Yes... Let's imagine how it would be."

She nodded, and with a wave of his hand a warm room enveloped them.

"The scene is this: you and I stand in the room that is the center of my universe."

As he introduced the room to her, she followed behind him. Taking in the cozy decor, the crackling fire. Fingers gently trailing along small objects on his desk.

He got quiet, staring at her in adoration.

She picked up a small trinket and held it to the light.

"What?" She smiled to his staring.

"Oh, nothing. You just look good here. It suits you, being in the heart of my world."

Her chest lit up white.

She looked down in shock.

"Are you okay?" He stepped forward, concern in his eyes.

"I think so. It's just... it's never done that before."

She held her hand to the sun, feeling a pleasant heat.

Then she started laughing.

"Care to share your epiphany?" He stepped forward, placing his hand next to hers.

"You know we see the sun as yellow or even orange..." She started, moving her hand to let him have full touch.

"But it's an illusion. Its true color is white."

He smiled down at the brilliant light carding between his fingers, looking back up at her.

"Can I show you my favorite spot?"

She nodded, and he led her by the hand to double doors, opening for them with a gentle creak.

"Ah, the weary sun takes its gentle dive into the sea." He hummed as they stepped out into the warm light.

The sea illuminated in the soft pink hues of the resting sun. Sailboats drifting, the gentle sounds of lapping water.

Aurum walked out to the railing, taking in the view with him. Both tinged in longing for a place far from them.

"When this is all over, I want to go back. I miss Waterdeep so much." Aurum sighed.

He turned to her, taking both of her hands in his.

"Could I take you home? Would you allow me that honor?"

She smiled, squeezing his hands.

"I would like that. Though I don't know if I could call Spires of the Morning home."

She paused then, a sad but honest thought crossing her.

"I've only ever lived in temples. I guess I've never had a home."

He stepped forward, holding the back of her head as she looked up at him.

"If we survive this, and if miraculously by the end we're both whole and sane... if you still will have me by then, I will make a home for you. Whether my own, here, or one entirely new. Would you want that?"

The sun burned a radiant white inside her, telling him her answer before she could speak. But she did anyway.

"Yes. Yes I want that."

He kissed her deeply, drinking her through. As endless as the sea and as replenishing as summer rain, he poured love into her.

When he finally pulled away she whispered to him.

"Please take me to bed, Gale."

~

Part 6

[whatyouseeiswhatyou]

i once told a friend that i think that my god given purpose on this earth is to "learn how to be a good friend to others." that my mission was to be the best i could be for the friends i happen to make in this lifetime... i think that was the most fucked up thing i've said in a very long while. i verbally reduced my entire essence down to "being a good friend." that proclamation felt fake as soon as it left my lips. i think i even winced a little as i said it. i contemplate on what i've said everyday since then. is that all that i am worth? is the only thing i have to offer to this existence; to this state of being, is labor that only constitutes towards the benefit of others? now don't get me wrong, I am a woman who craves community and good, pure, genuine connection with others, but why would that be the only fruit of my liveliness. why would that be the only thing god put me here for? i think im going mad. i think i need to take a step back from the mirror and look down at my hands and my feet and ask myself, where did it all go wrong? when was it, when i decided i was gonna lose myself to the raptures of togetherness? i got so use to being somebody for someone else, that i forgot who i was. i forgot that i am whole, even when i am alone in a dark room and i'm the only one speaking. shit i even prefer to be alone because i can finally breathe. i can think and be me without any interference, without any judgement and back handed criticism. so when did it start to go wrong? was it when people started to need me? i went so many years not being anything for anybody and now im called upon by many. i turned 21 and now the world is begging for me to hand over my flesh and blood and heart every morning. and i do it willingly because now i am wanted and desired. to have someone tell me they need me near to feel comfortable, that they can't take the leap alone. to have someone look me in my eyes and say that it is me who they need to hold their hand as they walk through murky waters, is a powerful thing. and i got so very drunk on that power. i wanted to help. it feels good to be needed. but what am i really handing over in return. im losing myself to all of this. i look in mirrors and see a friend of a friend. a guide who is losing her own guidance. this is not what god intended for me, this is what i thought i was worth. i have to let go of their hands and wash my own till they are clean again. and i won't just leave those who i love behind as i move forward, ill still be right by their side, just with clean hands, a clear conscious, a whole heart, and feet that are not afraid of only seeing one set of foot prints in their path.

[blindrapture]

god, that's nostalgia. that's my nostalgia. I know what other people grew up with, but the things I grew up with, the things that hit me at the right time and made formative memories, I'm still trying to piece all that together because I can't name them all by heart.

but suddenly, in a conversation with my girlfriend, I recalled Jill's Song. and I rewatched this. and. this is.. everything to me.

I was 13 when this came out. and I was already a follower of Lit Fuse Films, so I absolutely saw this when it came out, I was definitely 13.

this... incredible standalone scene. professionally cinematic, and that's no accident, as Robert Stoneman is a professional cinematographer for the video game industry, he makes cutscenes and trailers for games, he worked on Mass Effect 2 and The Witcher 3. but back then, in early 2008, he was still making little arthouse videos in Garry's Mod.

and Jill's Song was. different. it hit different. it was low-key. had excellent voice work, and faceposing well beyond what I thought was possible back then. it was instead about the dialogue, the delivery, the oration-- and that music. that gorgeous little original piano piece. Jill's song. and this guy, this Jack, talking about her song.

the writing has a flow to it. it is written to be delivered. I watch this thing and I'm hanging on every word, because of how he's saying it, and how it matches the music.

this video changed me. it may have been what made me give a shit about movies. I needed to see the magic of movies through video games first, through Half-Life, through Garry's Mod. because this was something closer to me than Hollywood. this was some guy who likes video games, making a thing for the internet. the 2000s internet, with all its promise. that spoke to me. "ah, so this is what internet stuff can look like." and its content spoke to me too, dug its hooks in me. I didn't think of myself as a good writer. I was 13 years old. but this video may have defined good writing to me. and looking at it now, it is clear to me how strongly I took influence from this. how much faith I took in the value of the flow of words, how even a fairly empty sentence can grab the audience because it's all about the words, and we can make beauty out of emptiness!

that's! yes!

that's exactly it, that's the words!

"we can make beauty out of emptiness!"

that's what resonated with me. even in other works by Lit Fuse Films, such as the Rusty Whispers series, and Ignis Solus. they're fundamentally lonely pieces of film, not even made with film, not made with people or the real world, but made entirely within garry's mod, not even a game but a mod of a game. a mod! the kind of thing that other companies would take down, off the internet forever. a fragile cultural structure. fragile, possibly fleeting-- can't even be sure it's fleeting, so we'd better make the most of it while we have it. and we made the most of it. that was the mod culture I was exposed to, growing up. I can't even honestly say "we" made the most of it. I was an observer, a lurker, a child. I marvelled over the products of that culture, I grew up with those products. my life was empty. and these products were empty too, but they were sculpted emptiness. they were a beautiful emptiness. they made me think about, engage with, emptiness.

that's. that's art.

(and that's a thread into many of my art's riddles too. such as the "importance" of Guitar Hero in Rapture. and my musical creations' stubborn adherence to the midi format. it's all forged from my experiences seeing beauty spun out of emptiness.)

[iamnathanieldanger]

i've been deconstructing so long that i didn't have a word for it. and while you'd think that fifteen years of this would be enough to have everything at least arranged neatly, i've only recently started organizing my ideas into any sort of coherence.

there are a few things that i've identified as the Trinity of my most fundamental shifts, which everything else comes down to: Original Sin, Hell, and Inerrancy of Scripture.

Original Sin.

i grew up believing that every single person was sinful from birth. this was first challenged when a coworker from another christian tradition mentioned that it's not in the Bible and asked me to find it. it was further cemented when my wife and i had a baby, and i absolutely could not believe that this perfect little child was hellbound from birth.

instead, the original state of humanity is that we are all, every one of us, created in the Image of God. selfishness and deceit and cruelty and sin obviously still exist, but they are learned behaviors. we are instead all Divine by default.

Hell.

like most western christian traditions, i grew up being warned (threatened) about Hell: a land of hellfire where every person who does not accept Jesus Christ as their Personal Lord and Savior™ (more on this idea later probably) will be sent, even if they somehow managed to avoid sin otherwise. i've since learned that this idea of hell as Eternal Conscious Torment is just one interpretation of hell of many—and a relatively recent one (fifth century, give or take).

do I still believe in some version of hell? i really don't know. the afterlife in general has lost much of its importance to me in comparison to bringing the Kingdom of Heaven to earth, which seems to be what Jesus was like, actually talking about. but scripture is far too vague about the actual details of hell (or heaven for that matter) to spend so much of our energy on it. but if hell does exist, i'm pretty sure it doesn't look like Eternal Conscious Torment, which seem pretty damned contrary to the Nature of God.

Inerrancy of Scripture

this was maybe the first domino to fall. and i want to be clear that i still hold the Bible in great regard and believe that it still has authority. but too many of us treat the Bible as something it was never intended to be. like many other evangelicals, i was taught that every single word of the Bible was divinely inspired by God himself, and that every word of it was true, creating one huge unified narrative from Genesis to Revelation.

except...that's not at all the case. the Bible was written across several centuries by dozens of authors in dozens of contexts and purposes. there are multiple genres represented (even "apocalypse" is a genre of poetry. the more you know). and every single one of those authors was heavily influenced by their contexts. most of it is influenced by the biases of their time. some of it is even straight up Hebrew Nationalist Propaganda. most of it doesn't mean what modern audiences usually interpret it to mean (biggest offenders: genesis, revelation, job, just about every reference to homosexuality...). even the canon of Scripture was decided by a group of men who were highly influenced by their own contexts and biases. even when the word "inerrancy" was first used to describe the Bible, it was in reference to the reliability of the copies of source texts that we have‚ not in the divinity of their inspiration.

the Bible is certainly still important—essential even—to my faith, but it isn't simple. it requires wisdom and discernment to be understood—two things that are entirely lacking in American Evangelicalism in particular.

just about everything else—queer affirmation, disbelief in the rapture, the anxiety over "sinning," my political worldview, etc has been born from shifts one of those three ideas. many of the questions i've struggled to reconcile have been brought to peace by recognizing each of these deeply entrenched ideas as inessential or unclear. and nothing has helped me love my neighbor (and my myself) more than not believing that we are wholly corrupt and bound for hell because the Bible says so.

and even with all that shifting, a few things have become even more clear: the compassion and justice of Jesus, the Fruit of the Holy Spirit (e.g., the more loving, joyful, kind, peaceful, patient, gentle, etc i become, the more like God i become), and the message of Love and Grace. and as long as that's firm, the uncertainty of everything else becomes more bearable.

[hdminseon-archive]

━━ : 𝐊𝐄𝐄𝐏 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒 𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐍 𝐖𝐈𝐃𝐄 !!

DATED: mid-december 2022 FEATURING: members of team b ( unnamed + npc ) WORD COUNT: 1,375 NOTES: the past couple of days have been Absolutely Brutal 2 me, but i am (un)fortunately back on my bullshit now & here to offer up the unhinged minseon content that nobody asked for ♡ ( cw: abstract self-loathing, maladaptive daydreaming, compartmentalization gone wrong )

ONE THING ABOUT THE BOY IS THAT HE HAS AN ILL SENSE OF TIMING. He turns up in the kitchen at around four in the morning, leans his body against the countertop, and watches Minseon stress eat last night's doenjang jjigae. Minseon always notices his eyes first— too large, too dark and otherworldly.

He stops chewing. "What do you want."

The Boy levels him with a knowing stare. His hair has been bleached platinum, but it's poorly done; the color is uneven and his roots are growing in. During his last visit, Minseon had realized The Boy's appearance was a caricature of his own school portrait, taken years back in 2017. He doesn't understand why, after all this time, it's this likeness that haunts him, but it does. The Boy smiles, and it looks like his teeth are too round to fit behind the seam of his lips. It makes Minseon self-conscious about his own mouth, and he looks away.

"I'm bored of this," The Boy says, in a way that makes 'this' synonymous with 'you'. Minseon narrows his eyes, but The Boy continues, "I'm bored of hiding. I want to be something."

"Sure."

"— What do you want?"

Minseon knows this question is meant to give him some pause, but he hasn't slept in the last 32 hours, so he would really rather not. He makes a small noise of acknowledgement, vague and noncommittal.

But The Boy is persistent. He pushes himself from the counter to stand squarely in Minseon's line of vision, features pulled into something solemn and— Minseon realizes with a bit of a sting— disappointed. "What do you want?" he repeats again. Then, before Minseon has time to respond, he continues again, punctuates each word with a weighty pause: "What. do. you. want. — What do you want, Kang Minseon?"

And Minseon— well. He doesn't know what he fucking wants; he just knows that he WANTS ( and he wants, and he wants ). He wants to feel the sun against his skin and have it burn him, wants to fall into rapture and allow himself to drown. He wants to tear himself apart, piece by piece, reconstruct his reality into something big enough to hold him and his gluttony. His insatiability. His hunger.

"I know what I don't want," he bites back, instead. "I don't want this." And he makes it clear that 'this' is unquestionably synonymous with 'you'.

The Boy is smiling again, and Minseon really hates his stupid teeth. "Sure."

HE STILL LINGERS IN MINSEON'S PERIPHERY THE FOLLOWING DAY, which is... difficult, to say the least. Training has been cancelled, Minseon's been called into the auditorium, and the entire situation bears down on him like a bad omen. It always takes a great deal of effort to play at acting perfectly fine, but it's greater, still, when The Boy is beside him, snapping his jaws at every acquaintance that Minseon offers a polite smile. He sees a few of his friends congregating on the far end of the room. He avoids them.

The subsequent announcement regarding this semester's evaluation comes as no surprise, but hearing 'Year 2023' has Minseon agitated with all of the possibilities it seems to suggest: expectation, ambition, and ( worst of all ) the promise of hope. The Boy's question plays in his head on an endless loop, a dull, tedious sort of rhythm: What do you want, Kang Minseon? What do you want? What do you want?

— But does it even really matter, what he wants? He turns his head to consider The Boy.

"I want to debut," The Boy says, so softly that Minseon almost misses it.

He looks away.

HAVING BEEN PRESENTED THE DETAILS OF HIS FORTHCOMING EVALUATION, NOW MINSEON BEGINS TO STUDY. The performance track itself, with its victorious refrains and boisterous electric guitars— It's a concept he has yet to undertake, but it all feels curiously.. fitting, familiar in a way reminiscent of recalling far-flung memories and having them arrive in indistinct colors and sounds; Minseon finds himself unusually assured in it.

Applying his own skillset to the piece, he prepares to execute his role in carrying the vocal-heavy aspects of the performance and practicing earnestly enough to secure a steady grasp on elevating the production as a whole. Remaining comfortable and making measured progress seems the least risky course of action here, but Minseon is not sure The Boy will agree, so he steels himself for the impending dispute.

— It never comes. Instead, The Boy trails after him like a stray, still and silent in a manner that has Minseon unsettled. He tries to refrain from overthinking about it, to focus on the more pressing matters at hand, but seeing The Boy so idle and inert evokes a jarring feeling of dissonance within him. It's agonizing.

So, he attends his first formal training for the evaluation in low spirits. Under more average circumstances, he'd be taking great pains to put his peers at ease, to make himself as small and innocuous as he possibly can, but.. as it is, unfortunately, today, he's wound tight. Tense. Lethal.

When it comes time to discuss establishing the group's temporary positions, Minseon submits his intentions with little fanfare. It's the expected outcome, he supposes: "Lead vocal, if there are no objections." And there are none.

He lowers his head to stare listlessly at his lyric sheet. With this development, if he can pick up a substantial amount of the lines, all he'll need to do moving forward is concentrate on delivering them well and not make a fool of himself otherwise. Comfortable and measured, he thinks, just like he'd initially—

"I'd also like to try for center."

Minseon lifts his head.

Suddenly drawing attention to himself, The Boy offers the group a wide smile, before he takes the pages from Minseon's hand and thumbs through them, casually. " 'm thinking we can build our starting formation around this first line and alter it from there. I can open the song and close out a number of the phrases," — His eyes skip to Minseon. — "... if there are no objections."

Minseon stares at him, wide-eyed in disbelief.

( And it's with a belated sort of horror that, instead of The Boy, he finds his groupmates staring back at him. )

"DIDN'T KNOW YOU COULD DO THAT." He's excused himself to the bathroom to splash his face in cold water. He's not sleeping. He's checked; the small crescents littering his forearms are proof of that.

"Didn't know you wanted me to speak up for you so bad," The Boy coos, and Minseon glares at his reflection in the mirror.

"... So? Y' done now? Enough sabotage for one day?"

The Boy's lips twist into a crooked little grin. "You and I both know it's self-sabotage, Seon-ah." There's something cruel about the glimmer in his eye. "You can pity yourself all you want for being stuck with me— Just remember that I'm stuck with you too." His smile is saccharine. "And I really hate it just as much."

Minseon doesn't reply.

The Boy looks like he's about to affix an addendum, but he's interrupted by a soft knock on the door. "Minseon...?" It's one of his groupmates.

When he enters, Minseon's brain supplies, Yoosuk, and Yoosuk's eyes rove the room timidly. "Oh, ... you were just talking to yourself...?"

"Coping mechanism," Minseon says immediately, and he can tell from the way Yoosuk giggles that he's not taken seriously. "What's up?"

"Just wanted to check in, 'cause you looked kinda spooked when you left... Congrats on landing center, by the way. ... Lead vocal too." [ 🔓 ]

"Thanks."

Yoosuk looks supremely uncomfortable. "... A–nyway." Minseon wonders vaguely if his group had cast lots to see who'd have to come in and collect him. The thought makes him swallow down a laugh. "Me and a couple of the guys are gonna order takeout. You hungry?"

Minseon glances over to where The Boy had stood. He's disappeared now. All that's left is Minseon's own reflection— eyes too large, too dark and otherworldly. He turns his attention back to Yoosuk, and his companion unconsciously takes a step backward.

Minseon's smile is saccharine. "I'm starving."

[kaepop-trash]

Heloo. So I was thinking for a thight riding with johnny . And yeah..with some squirting things, oral (f receiving) and fingering...yes.

Thank you

No because this really. I really wrote this in one sitting. I am sure that writers better than me do that on the daily, but I get too caught up in the small details to ever get that right. But this, jesus christ. I hope you're happy you've cursed me. Happy Halloween to you, Satan (jk I'm deceased). For context purposes, this happens right after the last ask.

You did not specify which Johnny to write and I have a short-sighted problem so you get Chance Encounter Johnny because I wrote him more recently. Also this works better in their dynamic. Enjoy.

Warnings: Smut, Everything mentioned in the ask above, Edging.

WC: 2k

__

She stuttered when Johnny's hand grabbed her thighs, pressing her closer to his leg.

Her bare pussy rubbed against his pants, swollen and impossibly wet from the friction. She wasn't sure how they ended up like this, her mind increasingly enraptured and foggy in search of pleasure.

(Y/N)'s arms wrapped around his neck as her hips kept gliding over his leg. Slowly building her pace as she desperately sought out her climax.

Johnny gripped her hair in his fist, pulling it back with a quick tug to pull her face away from his neck.

"You've been ignoring me, Kitten." His voice was grave. "Already tired of my dick?" He hummed.

"No." She blurted out, swallowing down on the excessive drool that formed from her listless state. "I haven't been ignoring you." She cleared her throat to sound less ravaged.

"No?" Johnny tugged her hair again, the blood rushing to her scalp making her moan. "I haven't seen you all week, (Y/N). We work on the same floor." She forced her eyes open when his voice sounded strained, realising that he was speaking through gritted teeth.

"It's been a busy week." She said, gasping when he clenched his thigh below her.

In truth, she had been going out of her way to stay out of his. Sending interns with any papers that needed his attention and avoiding common areas. It wasn't something she had planned, but she decided that a little breathing room away from him would clear her head of any silly notions. If the alternative was a definitive end, a week felt like it was justifiable. She didn't want a definitive end.

(Y/N) thought she had succeeded too. But she made a miscalculation on Friday.

Assuming he was on the 12th floor, (Y/N) risked going to the break room, practically dropping her coffee mug when she turned only to be greeted by his familiar figure at the door watching her with knitted brows.

The same glacial look remained etched on his face as he watched her trying to get herself off on his thigh.

"I sent you a text on Saturday night. I guess you were still buying a sofa." He clicked his tongue, "Couldn't even send a quick reply? What a busy woman you are, indeed." Johnny jerked his leg up, a string of curses leaving her lips at the jolt it sent up her spine. Her back arched more, hands struggling between holding his neck and tugging at his hair.

"Johnny, please." She gasped, "Feels so good." She added, feeling utterly raptured.

"I bet it does, doesn't it?" He hummed with evident bitterness, "Using me to get off like this after I haven't had so much as a look from you all week. You really are my favourite little slut. You humiliate me like this and it makes me so hard for you." His arms grabbed her waist again, increasing the pace this time.

"I didn't see you tryi–" She winced when he rolled her hips, "You didn't come looking for me either, Johnny." She groaned, head falling back as she felt her stomach start tying itself in the tell-tale knot. "Fuck, I'm going to come." She swallowed again, the words coming out strained.

"No you won't." He pressed her down to his leg again, this time stopping the movement entirely. Her fingers grappled at his collar in rage, tearing the top button of.

"Why would you do that?" She cried out, digging her nails into his neck. "I was so close, Johnny." She buried her face in his chest, hitting it.

Johnny snorted, combing his fingers through her hair. "A little patience, kitten." He kissed the top of her head, "Have I ever made you feel less than good?" She shook her head.

Johnny stroked his fingers over her clothed back in a slow caress till she shivered.

"Johnny." She groaned, hand fisting his crisp shirt.

"I'm not done with you yet." He reassured before she voiced her discontent, picking her up to put her on his desk. "Spread your legs."

She heaved at his words, parting her legs and placing them on either armrest of his chair.

"Did you want me to come looking for you? Tail between my legs?" He questioned as he reached out to stroke a finger up her slit. "Hmm?" He hummed softly, pressing his finger roughly on her clit.

She groaned from the pressure, clit raw from rubbing against his pants. "John." She whimpered, gasping when he circled his finger over the tender bundle of nerves.

"What is it? What do you want?" He snapped his gaze up, the deeply etched frown making her moan.

"Finger." She breathed out, flushing from embarrassment at the pathetic plea. "Do it, Johnny. Please." She tried to move her hips against his single finger, whining when he put his other hand on her thigh.

"Look at you begging like a filthy slut. Where was this desperation when I called you on Wednesday night, hmm?" He finally moved his finger, stroking up and down with an infuriatingly light touch. "You didn't even care enough to answer the god damn phone and say no. And now you're saying you weren't ignoring me?" He scoffed, the tip of his blunt nail scratching gently against her entrance. It felt enough to make her jump, desperate for any pleasure.

"I'm–" Her words were cut off when he plunged a finger into her. "Sorry." She tried to finish.

"Are you just saying that so I let you come?" He spat the accusation at her. She shook her head, forehead tensing.

"No I–" She gulped, "I didn't think you cared, Johnny." She didn't mean to sound wronged, but the way the words were spit out between gasps made it sound so anyway. She willed her eyes open, tilting her head down to look at him. "I'm sorry." She added with a softer tone.

He looked at her with a frown that told her nothing about what he was thinking. Snapping out of his thoughts a second later.

"Want to come?" He questioned, scoffing when she gave him a tired nod. "Tell me how bad you want it, kitten."

"Please." She whined, throwing her head back to stop looking at his searing gaze. "I haven't–" She stopped, reminding herself that he shouldn't know how she didn't sleep with anybody in the week she missed him. Not when she knew he didn't share the sentiment.

"You what?" He asked, pumping his digit in and out faster.

"Just let me come, John." She sounded as resentful as she felt. "Why did you bring me here if you were going to play games? I still have work to do." Air whistled through her clenched teeth when he added a second finger.

"What a novel employee, aren't you?" He curled his fingers right into her g-spot, her legs shaking at the sudden charge.

"Yes, sir." She whined, head falling forward as her muscles went rigid.

"Beg for it, (Y/N)." He began oscillating his fingers inside her. She bit down on her tongue, her indignation not letting her speak. She didn't pay attention to the sound of his chair dragging, mind zeroed in on the feeling of his fingers rolling inside her hole.

Her eyes shot open when she felt his tongue press against her clit.

"Shit, fuck, Johnny." She clapped a hand over her mouth to stop her shriek. It didn't slip from her mind that a few people were still around the floor.

Johnny groaned against her core. A whine left her lips when he pulled away too soon. "Why bother? It's not like people don't know. We've been at this for seven months." The sight of him licking his dripping lips made her squeeze her eyes shut.

She bit down on her palm when Johnny sucked on her clit, her muffled groan making Johnny hum.

"Mark, that asshole, thinks it's the way I look at you." He pulled back while sucking and she felt tears prickle at the corner of her eyes. The words knocked her breath out.

He chuckled at her ruined face, "Don't worry, you're always so good at holding your tongue when I'm fucking you in this building." He pulled his fingers out completely, before slamming them back in with added force. "Who would know that the diligent disciplinarian can run her voice sore just from my name?" He rubbed at her g-spot like he was trying to coax the words over her.

"Johnny." She tried to sound commanding.

"Beg." He snapped, fingers stilling inside her completely.

"Please, please, please. Let me come, make me come. Johnny please." Her face contorted. When his lips returned to her clit, she put a cautionary hand on his head. Keeping him in place. He chuckled against her but didn't let his ministrations dissolve, instead only picking up speed with incredible focus.

"Always so good at this, Johnny." She moaned, head falling back as the hold on her mouth loosened to grab her breast over her shirt, sighing at the feeling of the fabric brushing against her nipple.

The praise ignited his last resolve and he seemingly put all his focus into it. "God please I need to come so bad. I missed how you feel." The fog of her building pleasure made her guard slip for a moment.

To her relief, Johnny said nothing. Only focusing on the task at hand. As the knot in her stomach pulled tighter, a familiar yet rare feeling made her reach her hand to his shoulder to push him back desperately.

"Johnny." She gasped, trying and failing to push his face away from her core. "Come here." She whined.

He obeyed, pulling away without letting his fingers falter.

"My kitten wants a kiss?" He gloated and before she could respond, her body went rigid and her orgasm crashed over her. She dropped her head back as she felt the warm release shake her body into a jolt, squeezing her eyes closed.

She couldn't believe she just squirted on Johnny's desk, cheeks feeling impossibly hot.

"Fuck." Johnny groaned, getting out of his chair. "That was so fucking hot, (Y/N). You're so hot." He came closer to her.

(Y/N) opened her eyes just in time to see his shirt, the white cotton drenched at the torso.

"Oh my god." She whined, a fresh wave of embarrassment washing over her. "I'm so sorry I ruined your shirt."

"I want you to do that again on my cock next, fuck." He groaned so loudly, pushing his hair away from his face. She looked up at him, just as his lips met hers.

It had been a while since she was caught in his gaze this close; a while since they kissed like this. And that absence made itself known in the way her heart dropped to her stomach.

His brows remained furrowed and she knew that it was one of confusion. Moments like this were when she had to remind herself the hardest of what she had signed up for. About who the man against her was.

When he tilted her chin higher to deepen the kiss she shut her eyes in a panicked fit, hand reaching his cheek on it's own accord.

"If you want to stop doing this," Johnny mumbled as he pulled back, still close but looking down instead of at her. "Just tell me. You don't even have to give me a reason if that's what you're worried about. Just don't–" He paused, taking a soft breath that made him look smaller. "Don't just ignore me. I don't like doubt. I hate how it makes me feel. If you want to stop–"

"I don't," She blurted out as the panic settled, "We're not." She took a shallow breath, "I can't, I–" She paused, taking the hardest breath she could remember.

She squeezed her eyes as a different kind of embarrassment settled into her, missing the way Johnny's eyes lit up at the last words. "I won't do that. I'll tell you if I don't want to keep doing this."

"Okay." Johnny's voice was a soft brush over her neck, his lips following. "Let's go home. I'm not done with you yet."

Character from: Chance Encounter

Mini Masterlist

[ruki--mukami]

TW:implied NSFW, can be taken there, mentions of drugs and high regarding as such//

The scientist softly hummed while raising a small glass tube filled with a light pink substance in it, she slowly walked over to him and cleared her throat so she'll have his attention on her.

"Now that I have your attention, I need you to drink this. "

She said while giving him the glass tube, and crossed her arms underneath her chest, and then she frowned softly when there was a hesitation.

"It is nothing poisonous, do not worry. It is a special condiment I made for the sake of an experiment. No, it is not aphrodisiac, it has... Far too unsavory affects for me to ever consider doing another experiment with it. You see, this condiment is made to enhance positive stimulation, basically making it so that you release more dopamine and serotonin hormones, giving you a relief similar to one of a drug high or orgasm, but it's not addictive, don't you worry. It also makes it so that you won't feel negative stimulation, basically cancelling it, you won't feel things such as pain. "

"...How curious. You know it will take more convincing than that to persuade me to consume such an odd concoction, yes? As much as you promise its positive effects, I'm uncertain if I wish to undergo such a drastic increase in those neurotransmitters' activity in front of someone I barely know. Since we're partners for this, why don't you drink it first? The entire prospect of being immune to pain sounds tempting, but even so... If I were to drink this instead, then you can't possibly complain about what will occur next. Who knows, I may need to wash it down with a far more preferable substance."

Eyeing the vial with cautious eyes, Ruki inspected the unnatural pink hue of it wondering just how detrimental an unhinged side of himself akin to his blood-drunkenness could be for the scientist before him. Despite her encouragement, he hesitated under her attentive gaze. Rather than taking a sip of this formula, the Vampire preferred to feel a sensation even better than sexual climax by indulging in the scientist's sweet blood, though whether she knew of his supernaturality remained a mystery.

"Fine. For the sake of your intellectual pursuits, I'll do it. However," his face neared hers, a smug smirk pulling at the corners of the Vampire's lips, "if I take this concoction, then what will you grant me in return? I do hope it is worth the time and effort."

Reluctantly, he swallowed all of the pink formula in its entirety. Warmth swelled to its limit from the top of his cinerous strands to the nerves in his toes, suffusing Ruki with a sense of sultry allure and instability. He despised losing control no matter what, yet the drug consumed him like a fire engulfing a usually calm and tranquil forest. Glaring ever so slightly at the woman in front of him, Ruki clutched at his own chest and lowered the collar of his uniform, his tie suddenly too tight for his liking.

"You... What did you put in this?! It's like my body is on fire... Tch, I hope you're happy with these results, because I need you right this instant."

Throwing inhibition to the wind, Ruki lurched forward and seized the scientist in his harsh grasp, immediately baring his fangs into the crook of her shoulder. The blood gushing forth seared down his throat like lava erupting out of a volcano, rapture consuming him thanks to the odd liquid he consumed. The longer he bit into her flesh, the more he wished to taste every last drop. Blush dusted his pallor as the crimson treat satisfied his taste buds to a heightened degree, one he fought back to admit given his pride.

"Still, I cannot believe you would put me up to this... You may have not realized it yourself, but by giving me this substance you've placed yourself in great peril. Now then, face the consequences of your rash experiment."

[myafterlifeisbetterthenyours]

OBSESSIVE STOLAS x Male Imp Pt.2

(This is a long fanfic and will consist of multiple parts. This part will have badly written smut.)

Stolas' face mmediately lit up, the owls fethers puffing up as giddiness over came him.

Grabbing your face he pulled you in for a deep kiss before turning on the spot and going over to lock the door.

Turning back to you, Stolas targeted you with a preditory gaze.

You Beckoned him to you with a lone finger, a sultry smile on your face.

Stolas chest swol with pep as he made his way to you with slow seductive steps. His highness shed his royal attire piece by piece along the way.

He stood before you, bare to the world. The sight leaves you breathless, as you stared up at him in all his natural glory its as though you were gazing up at some icon of desire.

The prince looked down at you, lust clear in his eyes as he leered himself over you.

Stolas smiled down at you, his hand coming down and slowly undoing your pants, teasingly sliding his hand into your underwear pulled out your swollen member.

The demonic prince relished having you in his grasp. Your scent, your warmth, he couldnt help himself as he leaned down and quickly engulfed your entire length.

The Prince moaned as your taste hit his tongue.

You could barely stay coherent as Stolas put all his skill into bringing you as much pleasure as possible. Absolutely entranced with your every moan and gasp.

'Stolas, aah, I'm-I'm real close.' You mewld, moments before you exploded in his mouth.

Stolas was enraptured with your taste, drinking it down like it was ambrosia.

You slid your hand down his face, basking in your all to rare afterglow. Stolas' face had never seemed so beautiful in your hazy gaze.

Sitting up, you grab Stolas by the jaw and pulled him into a kiss. Despite tasting yourself in his mouth, you didn't faulter in the kiss, pulling him deeper, pulling him back until he was practically laying on you.

Stolas quickly eclipsed your passion with his own, dominating the kiss.

You pulled stolas against you, your bodies grinding against each other.

Stolas was in absolute rapture. The feeling of you against him sent wave after wave of pleasure throughout his body with your every touch.

You pulled him closer, burrying your face in his chest fluff and taking in his scent, the act you both found extremely arousing.

Squeezing Stolas close, you prop your legs up on either side of his slender body.

Before in a quick move, you manage to flip the Demonic prince underneith you.

While initially shocked, he your ability to manhandle him so easily was quite arousing.

Looking up at you, it was his turn to be captivated by your domineering presence as you loomed over him.

Running a hand down his stomach, to rest on his thigh. Leaning down you left a trail of kisses down his neck, before whispering into his ear 'My turn~'

Without further explanation you climbed off of him.

Stolas whinned at the loss of your warmth, but his quickly perked up as he felt you slip between his thighs.

Slipping between his thighs, you come face to face with... well not what you thought a demon Prince would have.

In place of the typical male genitalia sat in its place a cloaca (Birds have them, its weird) giving him a feminine appearance at first glance.

You stood there, unsure of how to approach.

Noticing your lack of movement, Stolas sat up, finding your unsure state.

Feeling embarrassed, stolas rubbed the back of his head 'S-sorry, I... I should have told you about that. Its natural for the Ars Goetia of my family but... I understand if you dont-'

But before he could finish his thoughts you buried your face in his crotch. Stolas released a rather effeminate gasp before it was quickly morphed into a deep moan.

You were no expert in mouth-tongue oral pleasure, But you lacked in experience you more then made up for with enthusiasm and a nearly foot long tongue certainly helped.

Something Stolas greatly appreciated.

Stolas had never experienced such gratification. He hadn't received this much pleasure in years, not even Blitzy...

no, It's Blitzø now.

Not even Blitzø's usual rough and tumble style in bed could bring him this much pleasure.

Despite your crude technique, Stolas was quickly nearing climax.

You could tell Stolas was close, because his exclamations progressively became more and more vulgar, his hands coming to the back of your head.

You just focused on eliciting as much pleasure from the owl as possible. Pushing your tongue as deep as possible, Stolas cried.

His hands clasped the back of your head as gush of salty liquid. After a several moments of pressure to the back of your head stolas went limp, releasing you.

Taking a moment to catch your breath you stood up, licking your lips, giving your neck a big stretch.

Looking up, you found Stolas in a seemingly intoxicated state.

The owl laid there quietly moaning incoherent thoughts to himself.

Looking over the prince, you could help but find his dishevelled look deeply arrousing. The rugged state of his feathers across his chest were particularly appealing.

Looking down the sight of his still aroused... Princehood. The sight immediately shot a new wave of arousal south.

Looking up I found Stolas still in his little haze.

Your eyes trailed his body, something passes through your head.

An idea.

An awful idea.

A wonderful, awful idea.

Moving forward you slide your hads along his hips, before moving forward and pushing your arousal against his own. As soon as they touched Stolas' entire body froze.

Stolas slowly sat up, he loomed over you, radiating an aura of absolute dominance you would only find amongst the Ars Goetia Royalty.

You look up, meeting his domineering gaze,

his preditory crimson gaze making you feel like a mouse before a hawk.

Moving without thought you moved forwards, grinding your Imphood against his now more then eager honeypot.

The bolt of pleasure that shot through you both, caused you to moan.

Looking the Owl in the eyes, you silently asked for permission. Stolas leaning forward, laying a kiss on you lips before placing his head against your own.

A silent nod was all the answer you needed, as you wrapped your hands around his thighs and plunged forward into Stolas' warm depth.

You moaned deeply, bodies paralysed in pure pleasure.

It took a moment, but eventually you adjusted to the burning hot pleasure.

Stolas leaned back on his elbows, looking down at you he wrapped his legs around your waist. Taking this as permission, you began a slowly thrust, in and out.

You knew what Blitzø is like, he was loud, rough and unapologetic. You can only imagine he'd be the same in bed.

But it wasn't gonna be like that this time. You love Blitzø, he was a great guy and always did right by you. But afte everything Stolas went through, he deserved to feel the more intimate side of sex with someone who cared for him, and that someone was you.

You didn't rush it. In fact you took your sweet time, working into a steady pace.

You explore his body with your hands, fingers lingering on the most sensitive parts, memorizing the feeling of eqch inch of his body you could, leaving gentle kisses across his stomach and chest.

Your mind enters into an almost robotic focus, all energy dedicated purely on the singular act of bringing Stolas as much pleasure as possible.

Stolas whole body was awash with mind melting pleasure.

Stolas was in bliss.

He was so unsure of how to handle this new kind of pleasure he was receiving. Stolas had never felt this passion before.

Not even on that first night with Blitzø.

Not even when he thought Blitzø genuinely cared for him did it come close to feeling this good.

But now he knew the truth... Blitzø didn't care for him.

He just wanted his grimoire.

Blitzø didn't care for anything but himself.

But he didn't need Blitzø anymore, He had someone who loved him, now he had you...

[silver-wield]

Baby names

"Well, now, there's a figure I ain't seen in a long while. How you been?"

Cloud half-turned at the familiar voice, brows drawn and scowl in place. His expression cleared when he recognised the speaker, and he nodded in greeting. "Sam." He crossed the street, keeping a tight hold on his bag of groceries and sending a glance over his shoulder to indicate where he was going. "Things are good, thanks. You?"

Sam shrugged. "Well as can be expected, all things considered."

Cloud's brow quirked. "That's bullshit," he replied in an amused tone. "With the way fuel's running out you must be raking in the business." He had a dwindling supply for fenrir, but sooner or later even that would be gone. The planet was healing and people were finding more natural ways to live. Strife Delivery would eventually have to adapt too. But not yet.

Sam slotted his thumbs through the loops on his jeans and laughed. "You got me there." The intervening ten years since Cloud last saw Sam were fairly kind to him. With greying hair and a slight paunch, he still carried himself with that reckless air every hardened gambler had. Looking around, Sam gestured at Cloud's groceries and said, "Y'all out with your lady friend? Strange seeing you lookin' all domesticated."

Cloud shook his head and glanced to his right as a couple of boys came running up. "Did you get it?"

The elder one nodded and held up a bag of dumb apples. "Did I get enough, dad?"

Sam's brows shot up. "Well now, that's unexpected." He frowned at the gangly teenager with messy brown hair and a broad smile. "Is my math wrong?"

Cloud scoffed. "Probably." He put his hand on his son's shoulder. "This is Denzel." He pulled the younger boy to stand in front of him. "And this is Zack."

Sam's keen gaze swept over a six year old with black hair and blue eyes. "Looks like his mother," he said at last, looking up and smirking at Cloud. "Said you'd be ridin' to her rescue."

"Yeah, I'm a real Prince," Cloud said in a dry tone.

Zack tugged on Cloud's wrist. "Be nice."

Denzel smothered a laugh. "We should get back before mom's craving makes her eat the bar."

Cloud smothered a chuckle and nodded.

Sam smirked. "Expectin', is she?" At Cloud's nod, he added, "Congratulations."

Raising a hand to the back of his head, Cloud looked bashful, but smug, as he replied, "Thanks."

"Nice little family you've got."

"We got sisters, too," Zack said, then pulled a face. "I want the baby to be a boy, so there's more of us."

Cloud ruffled Zack's hair. "Girls aren't so bad."

Sam looked at Cloud like he was staring at a stranger. "You really Cloud? What, you running an orphanage or something?"

Denzel and Cloud looked amused.

"More like mom collects kids."

"Hey, you're one of those kids."

"I'm not a kid anymore." Denzel folded his arms and tried to look tough.

Sam laughed. "You look as much a runt as this one used to." He pointed at Cloud and grinned.

Cloud rolled his eyes and tightened his hold on the groceries in his arm. "Runt who saved the planet twice," he muttered in a petulant voice.

Zack tugged on Cloud's arm again. "Dad, I'm bored."

Cloud raised his eyebrows and shrugged one shoulder. "Nice seeing you. Come on, boys."

Arriving back at Seventh Heaven, Cloud watched Zack dragging Denzel across the room to where Tifa sat at a corner table with Marlene and Shelke. He proudly presented the bag of apples and grinned at Tifa's praising of them both. While it appeared Denzel was acting cool, Cloud could see he was also happy at Tifa's compliments as she took a bite of a dumb apple and looked rapturous at the taste. Though she'd tied her long hair up, strands already escaped to frame her face. She seemed relaxed, though Cloud recognised the accounting books sitting in front of her, which always put furrows in her brow no matter how good business was. A few customers sat at other tables, with Marlene or Shelke getting up to serve them.

At fourteen, Marlene cultivated a confident attitude similar to Tifa's. She still wore her hair in a braid with a ribbon tying it up in honour of Aerith.

After stashing the groceries, Cloud went to the table and caught the tail end of the girls conversation. Baby names. Great. He and Tifa broached the topic in bed the night before and wound up agreeing to disagree. He felt like he'd missed something during the conversation, but couldn't figure out why Tifa had reservations. It wasn't like when they'd decided on Zack's name. With a catch in his voice, he'd suggested it after a long period mulling it over. The relief on Tifa's face made him realise she'd been thinking something else was going on with him and he'd promised not to worry her like that again. Zack for a boy and Aerith for a girl in honour of their lost friends. It seemed fitting at the time, though Cloud was glad when the baby turned out to be a boy. His guilt over Zack's death lessened with the passing years, but he knew he never lived up to being a legacy. This way he kept his vow and only felt positive things whenever he thought of his best friend. But, when he suggested Aerith's name again this time Tifa seemed reluctant and wouldn't say why.

"What about a flower name?" Marlene suggested, as she sat back at the table beside Shelke.

"Yes, that would be neutral and an homage," Shelke added.

Tifa hummed and shrugged. Her gaze flicked to Zack and she said, "Maybe. I dunno. I feel like--oh, Cloud, is everything okay?" She looked at him and smiled.

He nodded. "Yup." The look on her face spoke volumes and he didn't want to wait until later to work this out. "Guys, give us a minute?"

Marlene and Shelke got up without argument, but Denzel needed a push to move.

"Why? Can't I stay?" Zack looked at Tifa.

She smiled and brushed a hand through his spiky hair. "It'll just be a minute, then we'll go take some photos, okay?"

Zack pouted. "Promise?"

Tifa nodded. "Uh huh." She held her pinky finger out and Zack linked it with his own. They touched thumbs and he said, "You gotta or else."

With a sweet and low pitched laugh, Tifa encouraged Zack to follow his siblings upstairs. Her face grew less animated when she looked up at Cloud. "What did you want to talk about?"

Cloud drew in a slow breath, then slid into the booth beside her and turned to face her. He laid his arm along the back of the seat and took one of her hands in his. "Baby names?"

Tifa tried to smile. "It's nothing, really. I just didn't want to worry you."

He'd figured it out. Because they'd chosen to honour Zack's memory Tifa thought they had no choice but to do the same with Aerith. "You wanna choose a different name for a girl?"

She shook her head. "It's not that exactly. It's just there's so much. Too much for a child to carry."

Tifa was right. Even Aerith's name had a heavy burden attached to it. With Zack there wasn't that expectation. It was only a debt to Cloud, something personal between them, that added importance to the name. It wasn't so heavy, and even though Cloud felt that weight at times, mostly it lifted his spirits every time he looked at his son and thought of the memories he carried with him. Still, it seemed Tifa wanted to honour Aerith's memory, but didn't want to burden their child with an entire planet's legacy. He laid a hand on her stomach. The pregnancy was just over halfway and Tifa still didn't have a large bump. Her physique and fitness kept her fairly slim still, though last time she'd seemed to balloon overnight during the last two months. As it was right now, she just looked a little fuller figured. Like their baby was a precious secret only they knew. "What did Marlene suggest?" He'd heard something about flowers and figured Tifa was searching for a suitable substitute name.

After some hesitation, Tifa replied, "Lily." She laughed softly. "She remembered the one from the bar before. I said it means reunion and--" She broke off and took a deep breath. Tears sprang to her eyes and she shook her head. "I think maybe it's a good fit. What do you think?"

She looked at him with earnest eyes that shone with unshed tears. Cloud gathered her into his arms and kissed the top of her head. "Sounds good to me." It seemed Tifa was sure this baby was a girl the way she'd predicted Zack's gender. "Is this what you were trying to tell me last night?" He'd misunderstood. When Tifa broached names he'd been tired from a day of work and just wanted to hold her close and go to sleep. It was his fault he thought she meant something different to what things really were.

"Hmm." She nodded as she wound her arms around him and hugged tight. "Sorry. I should have explained it better."

Cloud shook his head. "It's on me. I should've thought it through." He leaned back to look her in the eye. "I'll do better."

Tifa smiled at him and said in a teasing voice, "You're already doing pretty good."

"Oh yeah?" He dipped his head towards hers until their lips almost met, then murmured, "Do I get a reward?" He enjoyed how she blushed in the seconds before she kissed him.

Things were okay, and would continue that way.