#also i could’ve delved even further

[silent-partner-412]

stumbled on a tweet earlier today that essentially said that in games with romance mechanics, “playersexuality” (or the ideas that characters will be into the player character regardless of their gender) is not good queer representation and we should be striving for better. i want to unpack this because even though i largely disagree with their premise, it brings up some interesting ideas.

first of all: “representation”. this has been a buzzword for showing off diverse stories and perspectives from basically any minority group at least since i was a teenager. i think that the purpose of it is noble; we want to see more characters in stories that portray certain identities (in this case queerness) in a way that feels authentic, representative of real life, and not generally adhering to negative stereotypes. i think, at large, this is important to strive for as a creator, but i think some problems have arisen because of how prevalent the word has become within (generally progressive) internet spheres, because a lot of people seem to have different ideas of what “good” representation is. portraying characters one way is bad, because it plays into negative stereotypes, or it’s actually good, because people are complicated and even people of marginalized groups can be bad, etc etc. it’s become exhausting, and i’ve seen stuff i think is portrayed real well be painted as “bad”, or on the other hand, “boring” representation because it’s either too fucked up or too moral or whatever.

i don’t have a definitive stance about what is and isn’t good representation, mostly because i think thinking about it like that is counterproductive. i think it should be more important to consider many factors, like whether or not the character is multi faceted, whether they are in a story that’s focusing on said identity, who the target audience is, and figuring out whether or not the character in question is entertaining, interesting, accurate to life, or whatever else, cuz i think a good (in this case) queer character could be any one of these without necessarily being all of them and still be considered a good character who isn’t just good or bad representation. but that’s a lot of words and just saying good/bad representation is way easier, so it’s likely that we’re just going to keep using the one word and attach it to things we like and don’t like and make judgements about people’s morality if they disagree with you.

anyway, what does “playersexuality” have to do with this? well, the original point that was made is that playersexuality is bad representation, likely because it’s not true to life or very nuanced. which, to be fair, it objectively isn’t. i can’t just go up to any man and assume they’ll be into me, that’s just not how the world works. i don’t think you’re going to have anybody arguing otherwise.

that being said, the purpose of playersexuality isn’t to be real to life. it’s to give more options to a wider variety of people playing the game in question. personally speaking, if i’m told in a game that i have the option to date or marry other characters (especially if it’s a game where this is NOT the main reason i am playing it), i am generally not expecting anything super deep. i probably just want to go for the one i think is the cutest, or the most charming, and live in the little fantasy of them being my boyfriend or husband for a bit before i turn off the game and return to reality. i also am not usually looking for nuanced commentary about sexuality, or anything in that territory. in fact, it’s usually the opposite; i just want a cute little romance with some video game boy and not be constantly reminded that my personal orientation is “other” or the minority because i only have one choice and straight people have 20. playersexuality fulfills that perfectly; i can choose who i want, interact with the shallow game mechanic in the most fulfilling way, and move on with my life.

i’m going to give relevant examples, because these came up in the twitter thread. first of all: stardew valley (which i am currently obsessed with, as you might be able to tell). there are 12 bachelors and bachelorettes, and you can date and eventually marry any of them regardless of your gender. to be quite honest, you’re going to be hard pressed to not find at least one of them to be your type. whether you’re a man, woman, both, neither, gay, straight, bisexual, pansexual, regardless of how you identify it is pretty likely that somebody in this game will appeal to you. and, as it turns out, the game won’t restrict you from going after them! to me, for the type of game stardew is, this is perfect. i can choose the boy i like, i’ll get a couple cute scenes, and then for the rest of my playthrough he’ll repeat the same handful of lines on my farm and essentially be a trophy husband until the end of time. and that’s fine! i don’t need him to be a nuanced portrayal of complex sexuality, this is a game about farming and mining and fishing and all this other cool shit. the fact that my in game husband isn’t great “representation” is perfectly fine in my eyes cuz i don’t need him to be. but, despite this, it was still cited as an example of bad representation because it’s playersexual, and therefore bad.

but like, think about it could’ve been. i’m imagining an alternate universe where, in stardew valley, i can only marry one of the bachelors as a man. what if he’s one i don’t like? i’m not a huge shane fan, he’s a good character but i don’t wanna marry him. if he was my only option, i would be pretty sad about that. same if it was elliot, i know he’s got fans but he’s just not my type at all. if you’re a gay or bi man who like these two, imagine if you could only go after your least favorite bachelor. maybe you find sam annoying, what if he was your only option? what if you don’t like harvey’s mustache or something? what if you thought alex was a douche, or sebastian was too edgy and emo, and you could only marry one of them as a man? wouldn’t that suck? yeah, it’s not like marriage is the deepest part of this game, but it’s still fun. it’s still something i choose to engage with whenever i play stardew. if i couldn’t engage with it how i want, it would sour that whole part of the game for me.

another example: fire emblem engage. this came out earlier this year, and it was the first game in the series to let you (essentially) marry anybody you like, regardless of your avatar’s gender or the gender of the character you go after. this was also criticized in addition to stardew valley in the same thread, and while i have more issues with how it’s handled here, that’s almost entirely due to writing and some strange localization changes (note: i am NOT talking about the stuff with anna being changed. that shit was for the best) that make marriage in this game less than satisfying. but, conceptually, it was fine. i could marry the cute flirty boy in the game, get a shittily written cutscene about our bond being forever, and move on. if nothing else, it was certainly better than other games in the fire emblem series, specifically fates and three houses, which i’ll explain why them not being playersexual was not great.

let’s start with fates. in fates, there are two gay options, one male, and one female. both of them are exclusive to one route, both of them are still options even if you are the opposite sex, and neither of them are probably who most people would probably want out of their marriage candidate (look i am a niles fan but let’s be perfectly honest with ourselves about what kind of person that man is). also, this isn’t entirely relevant, but you’re locked out of in game content if you marry either of these characters as the same gender, which just kinda sucks. i get *why* this is the case, but it still sucks that being gay in this game is, from a gameplay standpoint, objectively worse than being straight.

three houses fares a little better, since marriage does not affect content and there are more options. however, you only get a few options depending on if you’re a man or a woman. this could be a whole other post (if you know, you know. it’s pretty well documented), but to put it lightly, the options fucking suck. once again the romance is not particularly deep, it’s basically just fan service. at this rate, just open up everybody to everybody, playersexuality is easily the better option and i don’t really see how you could see otherwise (and clearly the devs agreed, because that’s pretty much what happened for fire emblem engage).

the common thread of all of this is that, if you’re not going to put in the time to flesh out the characters and make their sexual orientation a focal point of their character (which, if you choose not to, i do not think that’s a bad thing, not everybody is equipped to write about this kinda thing and sometimes a shallow little touch of romance is all that a game needs), just open up everybody’s options. flip the pronouns in the romantic scenes, swap out the art so it can be seen with different gender player characters, do what you need to do. would this be considered “good” representation? maybe not! it’s not true to life or particularly nuanced. but sometimes that’s fine. it’ll make some people like me like your game just a bit more. and if you don’t like playersexuality? great. i get it. there are also many, many, many great stories written by queer people about their experiences as a queer person that delves into the details and nuances of it all. i would say go to those instead if you want “good representation” as opposed to the farming game or the tactical rpg that are just trying to give people options.

[elliemarchetti]

The Snake and the Wolf

Chapter 3 - Hounds

The plot took over this story, as did the POV changes. I hope @erisweek2023 readers are ready for a complete detachement from the canonical events of the book, because the moment of Nesta's escape has arrived.

Prologue | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 4

Words: 1.281

Nesta didn’t know how she got to the stony coast of the Night Court. One moment she was walking down the steps of the House of Wind and the next she was running away from Velaris, crushed by guilt and fear of what Rhysand might do to her. She gave away his secret, she gave back to Feyre what had been taken from her, and now she no longer had a home. Her mind raced to Gwyn and Emerie, to what might happen to them, since Cassian and Azriel knew they were her closest friends. She had to find a way to make them escape, to warn them to get to safety, because Nesta knew that the High Lord would try to enter their minds to see if they had any idea of her whereabouts. She hadn’t told Feyre that her first pregnancy would also be her last just because she had a good heart, but deep down they all knew she deserved to go to her death with her pride intact, like she already did to free them all. Furthermore, there was probably a solution to the problem. Considering how they took the fact that Feyre possessed a drop of everyone’s powers, Nesta doubted that the High Lords would’ve ever agreed to bring her back to life again, but maybe another Death-God resided somewhere, trapped in a mountain or a tree, and Rhysand could’ve sold his black soul to save his Mate. Nesta wondered if she would’ve done it in his place, given the chance, but didn’t like the answer she found within her, so she resumed her walk, going further and further south, with the sand under her bare feet and the now cold water lapping at her ankles with the rhythmic motion of the waves. She’d never been to the seaside before. If the situation had been different, she would’ve tried swimming, and then she would’ve found a house and wrote to Elain how beautiful it was, and how she had nothing to fear, unlike when she was thrown into the Cauldron, but the situation was no different and there were no villages in sight, so Nesta’s only hope was to reach a Court willing to help her before Rhysand tracked her down. In the library, she had read countless books that explained how to defend herself from the powers of a daemati, but since she hadn’t met any other beside her sister’s husband, she didn’t know if she was using those techniques well or if even a child could’ve destroyed her mind with just a snap of the fingers. Another incentive to keep up the pace, until her knees gave in and her vision went blurry from exhaustion. Before the Valkyries, before she rediscovered the joy of having purpose and friends, she would’ve gladly accepted the oblivion, better than the one provided by alcohol, but now she realized she had reasons to live, places to explore and lessons to learn. Allowing herself the luxury of dreaming, Nesta would’ve liked to visit the Autumn Court first, that enchanted and colourful place described in the novels she had shared with the House. She was sorry she had to leave it behind, even if it was depressing to say that her first, true friend in the Night Court hadn’t been a person but the darkness inside a building. Maybe, in honour of that bond, she would’ve indulged its desire to delve deeper into her powers, now that she didn't have to endure the pressures of the Inner Circle, or maybe she would’ve not, her life as Fae full of possibilities, if only she managed to survive and crawl out of the niche in the rocks where she had taken refuge for the night.

She though she would’ve woke up because of the humidity, or the pangs of hunger and thirst, but she discovered to her amazement that it was something wet touching her hand that shook her from her torpor. Even opening her eyes, caked by the salty air, cost her immense effort, but the cries of the creature managed to completely steal her from her dreamless sleep. The dog, clearly a hound of some sort, had a long and slender body, his ribs almost protruding from how thin it was, but it was its muzzle that struck her, so elongated and elegant, and at the same time almost grotesque, with those big eyes and short ears hanging down at the sides of its small head. It was the strangest beast she’d ever seen, yet something in her desired to reach out to pet it, to seek some comfort in its short gray fur. It must’ve been an excellent hunter, judging by its long sharp teeth, but it was also very playful, seeing how happily it wiggled its tail while she scratched its belly. Nesta had always wanted a pet, not necessarily a dog, perhaps a cat or a bunny would’ve sufficed, but her mother always forbade it, and her father never bothered to get her one, despite the huge numbers of requests. It wasn’t noble enough to take care of something else beside themselves, and when they fell from grace, it was too much, yet Nesta knew she had it in her to be a trainer, perhaps a little soft-hearted if all puppies had the same expression as the creature she was snuggling at the moment, but always attentive to her pet’s needs.

“Where is your owner? Are you lost?” she asked as if it could answer, her voice hoarse after more than a whole day of not using it. It had been a meaningless question, to which she certainly hadn’t expected to receive a reply, but the dog stood up on his long legs and ran out of the niche, into the sunlight flooding the dark beach. Nesta followed with great difficulty, but the beast didn’t move any more, as if it was waiting for her to catch up. They went on like this for hours,  the dog advancing and Nesta dragging herself through the sand to reach him, until the sun almost completed its descent arc and another dog barked in the distance. Nesta knew they couldn’t have moved too far, not with her in those conditions, but all those animals could mean only that she’d reached a town, and the larger the settlement, the more the possibilities of someone offering asylum to a dying young female, at least for a few hours. Her bones ached even more at the thought of a soft bed, and her stomach growled as she pictured every kind of food known to both men and Fae, but although she was almost certain the sun had burned the exposed skin on her arms, the worst torture had been the dryness in her mouth, which made it difficult to even swallow the little saliva she had left. At some point, when imagination and reality began to merge, she heard someone call her name, and a male figure appeared at the horizon, the burning red of the sun the same shade as his hair. The glorious hallucination approached her at a brisk pace, one dog at its heels and the other trotting alongside, satisfied with its distressed discovery. A pair of muscular arms, thinner than Cassian’s but no less strong, caught her before she could fall to the ground again, and Nesta could’ve sworn the smell of burnt wood, fresh apples and sweet cinnamon engulfed her as it used to do when her maids cooked her favourite treats.

“I found you,” murmured a familiar voice, full of concern and apprehension, its owner’s face buried in her matted hair. “I’m here, and we’re going home.”

[wejusthereforthefanart]

I’m Going To Defend A Headcanon

More specifically, a headcanon that literally no one has criticized or judged me for. To be honest, I just want to delve further into it. 

So, there was a post I made a while ago about the other riders getting to know the twins better by observing their quirks and such, and I included a personal HC where Tuffnut has ADHD while Ruffnut is on the autistic spectrum. I think it’s fitting that the two closest people in the whole franchise are both neurodivergent, but with different types. As someone who’s neurodivergent herself, it’s the greatest sense of irony. 

But while they both get easily distracted or hyper, Tuffnut seems to struggle more with paying attention and remembering things, especially plans. Ruffnut, on the other hand, tends to exhibit her emotions differently from the rest of the characters, even her twin. I found this GIF above to be a good example, where she’s happy Heather is here, but doesn’t register the tension in the air as she welcomes her back in a way that can be interpreted as threatening. Hand on the wall and face up close, like she may have difficulty with personal space. 

Tuffnut is probably the most physically expressive character, if not second to Snotlout (the drama king we all love). He literally communicates with his body as much as he talks with his mouth, his hands move constantly and he likes to pace a lot when he has an idea. Speaking of ideas, he shows an impulse to share his own before they’re fleshed out, which while it adds to the comedy, also gives us insight that he has a hard time thinking things through when he’s excited. 

And Ruffnut has sensory issues, you can’t convince me otherwise. She stims with her braids by tugging on them or stroking them, and she’s been shown to enjoy pain more than Tuffnut, which may elude to harmful stimming. And even though she’s claimed to be allergic to fish, I don’t really believe her. I think that because sensory issues weren’t ever commonly discussed or studied in the era of the movies, her reaction to the texture could’ve been summed up as just a food allergy. Because, come on, if Ruffnut was actually allergic to seafood like fish on an island whose main agricultural resource is fish, uhhhh she’d be dead. Coincidentally, she admitted to not liking the idea of chewing her own food when she was twelve. It has to be a texture issue. 

This post is nothing short of a mess, but I had to type out these thoughts somewhere. If there’s anything else I didn’t mention, I’m totally open to hearing others’ opinions on this. The twins are just super interesting to me, is all.

[hymenpolice]

Mammon rudely interrupts you and Belphie. He gets roped in.

- Mildly dubious consent

- Gender neutral pronouns for reader

- Terms used for reader's genitals: cunt, pussy

- No mention of reader's chest

- DP, anal-centric

You half-buried your face into Belphie’s favourite pillow to muffle a groan. The demon’s tail curled into your peripheral vision as he fucked into your ass, much of his weight resting over your body while he buried his nose into your nape. You were kind of sleepy. Judging by his occasionally lethargic movements, so was he, but that was nothing out of the ordinary. You’d both been sleepy when you’d started, and it’d never fully dissipated.

You thought you might have heard something that wasn’t your or Belphie’s voices or the rustle of the bedsheets or a creak of the attic bed, but you couldn’t be bothered to pay it any mind, too busy whining at the feel of Belphie’s cock within you.

“What the hell do ya think you’re doing to ‘em?”

Your heart jumped into your throat as Belphie was unceremoniously pushed off you, out of you, and before you quite had time to register the movement, you found yourself off the bed and cradled in deceptively powerful arms, bundled in the blanket.

Your heart beat a mile an hour, any trace of the comfortable lethargy evaporated and replaced by mortification. You felt empty.

Belphie’s tail lashed behind him as he tucked himself away. “Nothing they didn’t want me to do.”

Mammon’s arms tightened around you, and he growled at Belphie. “Ya expect me to believe that?”

You kind of didn’t want to get into it, but you were also kind of in the middle of it, and you’d been rudely interrupted and also kind of just wanted to feel Belphie’s cock slide into you again so you put a hand on Mammon’s cheek to get his attention and looked him in the eye. “Are you sure you aren’t just jealous? Why would you still assume something like that about Belphie?”

Mammon’s eyes widened. “What do ya expect me to think, seeing him above you like that”—he glanced toward Belphie’s demon form—"and ya just lying still?"

You could see how the imagery could’ve been cause for concern, but things weren’t even remotely like that with Belphie anymore.

“Well, I wanted it”, you said, almost petulantly, and averted your eyes.

Mammon jolted in surprise. Belphie looked pissed.

“Just leave already, you idiot.”

“I’m not just leaving ‘em here like this! And who are ya calling an idiot?!”

You caught Belphie’s eye and pulled the saddest face at him.

His expression somehow darkened even further. “Just get out, Mammon.”

Mammon tucked you closer to his chest, and you sighed. This wasn’t going anywhere.

“Or you could stay”, you said sensibly, glancing at Belphie to gauge his reaction and widen your eyes at him like ‘it’s a solution’ and ‘just go along with it, please’ and ‘I’m sorry’.

When you glanced up, you found Mammon staring at you in alarm, face rapidly going red. “Wha-wha-what?!”

Belphie didn’t look any happier with the situation. “Fine.”

Mammon glanced between the two of you like a deer in headlights as Belphie approached. He stopped in front of Mammon, close enough that you could feel the press of his body through the blanket, and delved a hand under the blanket, slipping a couple of fingers into your ass. He stared at Mammon as though in challenge.

Mammon.exe seemed to have stopped working.

“Mammon, please”, you said, turning his face to you and kissing him. He was so tense but responded to the kiss, and when you retreated, he glanced between you and Belphie in bewilderment. From the corner of your eye, you spotted the annoyed lash of Belphie’s tail.

Belphie pulled his fingers out of you and very obviously undid his pants. He would fuck you even if Mammon insisted on holding you in his arms, no matter how frozen on the spot the second-eldest seemed.

“Mammon!” you whined and kissed him insistently, heatedly, moaning into his mouth when Belphie’s cock finally, fucking finally, pushed back into your ass.

Mammon inhaled sharply, then groaned, the tense energy bleeding out of his body. You wrapped your arms around his neck and deepened the kiss, then trailed little nibbles over his jaw to his neck, sucking and biting, your breath hitching in time with Belphie’s sharp thrusts. His lazy, languid energy was gone, replaced by annoyance that he all but took out on your ass, but you weren’t complaining.

You kept one hand behind Mammon’s neck, holding yourself close to him, and stuck the other between your bodies, having to contort oddly to find the waistband of his trousers and touch him through the tight material. He sucked in a breath. “What are ya...” he started, trailing off as you bit his neck and moaned over his words—"I want you in me", you responded, feeling Belphie’s grip on your hips tighten as he ground into you—"I want you both in me."

“Sounds like Mammon’s rubbing off on you”, Belphie chuckled. “Greedy.”

You snickered, burying your face in Mammon’s neck, trying to undo his fly with one hand while fucked by Belphie, which was easier said than done. Losing the button again, you groaned in frustration. “Let me down”, you told Mammon, and he lowered you to your feet.

Belphie slipped out of you, resting his chin on your shoulder and wrapping his arms around your waist. You briefly leaned your head against his.

Mammon was quick to help you with his trousers as soon as his hands were free. You lightly pumped his quickly hardening cock once, enjoying the flush creeping up to his ears as his gaze met yours. You leaned forward, linking your arms behind his neck. “Pick me up again.”

Belphie released you and Mammon helped you wrap your legs around his hips and held you there, but averted his eyes. “You’re the only human who I’d let boss me around like this”, he grumbled, bluster all but gone. It was delicious. You bit your lip and rubbed your sex against his cock, so wet the cock just slid through between your labia.

Belphie gave a put-upon sigh. “Just stick it in—” You could just hear the insult he’d bit off by snapping his jaws closed. The tip of his cock pressed against your asshole and he squeezed it in, easily sliding in to the hilt. “Oh, fuck, that feels so good”, you praised, throaty and finishing on a whine.

Mammon held you up with one hand and guided himself into your cunt with the other, expression going pinched as he bottomed out easily with how fucking turned on you were. He stuttered something, “Y-you’re so—”, bucking into you and moaning, and fucking hell, wasn’t that heady. “W-why are ya like that?” he asked, eyes darting to Belphie, and you didn’t know what he was going on about, but Belphie did. “They like it”, he said smugly, punctuating by thrusting into your ass.

Mammon froze, and in the next moment, you found you had much more bare skin to work with. Your first thought when you’d seen his demon form had been ‘man, put a damn shirt on’, but you were used to it by now. His gaze roved like he wasn’t sure where to put it. “Or is it just Belphie?”

You giggled, carding your fingers into the hair at the back of his head, curling your hand into a fist. His breath hitched, his eyes finding yours. “You did good.” You kissed him, circling the base of a serpentine streamer horn with a finger, savouring the ways their demon forms distinguished them from humanity. He moaned into your mouth, pulling you tight against him, thrusting into you completely off-beat with Belphie. Belphie dug his fingers into the flesh of your thighs, leaning heavily against your back.

You were so turned on, so loose and slippery, you didn’t even feel too full when they pushed into you simultaneously. It was perfect. Belphie’s movements were getting erratic, and he ground deep into you, stilling there and panting against the back of your neck. He leaned heavily against you, chin digging into your trapezius muscle. Mammon’s shallow thrusts into your cunt led to Belphie’s softening cock slipping out of you. He remained there a moment longer, then took his weight off you, puttering something behind you in the room, probably cleaning himself up.

You ground into Mammon’s cock, trying to get more. He bounced you on his cock. You tugged his hair. Belphegor returned, leaning heavily against your back. “Stop that”, Mammon growled. Belphie heeded him none, slipping his fingers into your ass, slick with lube and his come, pumping them roughly. “You looked like you needed some more...” he muttered to you, then: “Fuck their ass, they like that better” to Mammon. Belphie pulled his fingers out and dried them on your shirt. You tried to elbow him. “Come to bed when you’re done”, he said, yawning, and meandered over to the bed, getting comfortable cuddling his cow pillow. “Mammon can come too”, he mumbled.

You exhaled through your nose. “It’s true”, you admitted, lifting yourself off Mammon’s cock to let it slip out of your pussy. He lined it up with your asshole with a hand and sunk in, and you dropped your head against his shoulder, moaning a breathy “ffffuck.”

Mammon bucked into your ass. “Why does he know that but not me, huh?” he asked.

You lifted your gaze to him, blinking. “‘Cause you and I haven’t had sex before?”

He growled, clearly frustrated, and you raised your brows minutely, kissing him as punishingly as he fucked your ass, biting his lip and fisting both of your hands in his hair. You’d have to—when you weren’t on the verge of coming—you’d have to tell him he couldn’t have you in all the same ways everyone else did, too. You ground into him, keening, chasing the last edge. Panting, you tipped over it, your body tightening on Mammon’s cock and on empty, your pussy muscles contracting around nothing verging on the painful before the fluttering release. Mammon fucked through your aftershocks, curling his face into your shoulder when he released into you. You pet his hair, around his horns, turned to plant a kiss on his cheek.

He helped you clean up, and you helped him. You crawled into the bed, framing Belphie on your hands and knees. You nosed his cheek, planted a kiss on it. “I’m here”, you said under your breath, and he cracked open an eye enough to latch onto you, pulling you to his side. “Mammon, too”, you added, and Belphie reached out behind you, tugging Mammon right against you and into the cuddle pile.

Belphegor’s spiny, tufted tail wrapped over your legs. Mammon got comfortable, flopping a leathery wing over you and Belphie. You felt the wing with your fingers curiously, lethargically. You closed your eyes. Belphie nuzzled into you.

[henrike-does-writing-sometimes]

The Most Willing Prey.

Because the last oneshot I wrote was in Anruh's pov I wanted to try something from Ruben's perspective and, yeah. This was supposed to be about him having masochistic and freaky fantasies about his monster girlfriend, but it turned into him experiencing desire for the first time and trying to navigate it while not fully understanding why he's feeling the way he's feeling.

It's still kinky, don't worry about that, but it was supposed to be a lot kinkier lmao

I'm also going to have to incorporate a lot of this into the actual story because god damn

Word count: 984 Warnings: Guro-esque | Gore and violence as erotic Kinks: Dom/sub undertones | Light Masochism | Primal play Wip: Gammellunden Characters: Ruben Hylén

: Oneshot Taglist - @vacantgodling :

Let me know if you want to be added/removed !

Enjoy~

//

The hours were ticking down slowly. Too slowly for Ruben's liking. Which wasn't rare. Hours spent trapped inside with an almost unbearable amount of sensory stimuli could easily drive anyone up the wall. Turning those hours into countless eternities.

But Ruben wasn't overwhelmed. The broken lightbulb in the corridor that flickered too loudly had been fixed. There had been pasta for lunch that day, with their unofficially assigned table unoccupied. The math teacher had even let him wear his headphones while he worked on their assigned chapter. Ruben hadn't been this at ease with the school environment in months. And yet, something irked him. Dragged him down and refused to tell him why.

It followed him home, too. Hung over him as he walked through the forest, and all the way up to his bedroom. 

Ruben unceremoniously dropped his backpack by his desk, before dropping down on his bed. He sat in silence for a moment, trying once again to asses what the strange feeling within him was. When he once more failed he made a frustrated noise and fell back on his bed. Ruben stared up at the ceiling, frowning as the feeling didn’t even have the decency to itch over his skin. Instead, it was rooted deep so Ruben wouldn’t be able to reach it however hard he tried. Had it been his skin, he could’ve tried to itch it. But he’d already tried multiple times, and it didn’t work. 

Still, Ruben ran a dull and stubborn nail across his freckled arm, leaving a red line to blossom in its wake. He'd never been one for scratches, finding the sensation too odd to be comfortable. But maybe it was because his nails weren't sharp enough. Maybe if it were Anruh’s claws…

Ruben let out a shuddered breath. Caught off guard by the warmth that fluttered within him at the thought. Warmth that, for a brief moment, calmed that strange feeling. It burnt to the touch, and yet Ruben found himself reaching out. Curiously welcoming the flames to lick his hand.

She'd easily slice his skin. Tantalizingly so. Slow and steady, drawing constellations with red ink. Or maybe she'd be quick and messy, ripping him apart like an animal. Like a predator, and he her prey. Ruben thought back to when she mauled the bear. Painting the snow in shades of red and pink without care. Brutal and without mercy, so effortlessly too. Would Anruh be the same with him? Was hunger and desire not the same? That was how people described it, at least. It was the allegory Karin had used when explaining her countless crushes.

“It’s like when you’re really craving something to eat, and that something is a specific person.”

“That sounds like cannibalism.”

“I mean, in a way it kinda is. Human connection is weird like that. You’ll understand when you’re older, trust me.”

Ruben wasn’t sure he fully understood even if he was older now. But the warmth that steadily grew within him beckoned him closer. As if promising him all the answers he was looking for. And Ruben followed. Closing his eyes, he delved further. Let himself be completely enveloped in the strange flames.

Did Anruh prefer pliant prey? The ones who dropped to their knees before her, giving her permission to do as she pleased. Or did she like them fighting? Those who kicked and screamed and did everything they could to flee, who had to be held down firmly and forced into submission.

Ruben would be lying if he claimed he wouldn't cave under Anruh. That her heavy gaze was enough for him to drop. But that didn't seem like fun, for either one of them. Ruben knew he was no match for the urroa, but the thought of trying regardless. Of being chased through the woods with her right on his heels. Of fighting tooth and nail for his life, adrenaline pumping in his veins. To truly be her prey. But after, when he was at her mercy with no means to escape, she could do whatever she wanted. Agonizingly slow, or merciless roughness. Perhaps a bit of both. Teasing the act for hours before stealing his breath in seconds. Ruben would be happy either way. And it scared him. 

Desire like this was uncharted territory. Which should be Ruben's favorite, but this time it felt different.

It felt raw. And real in ways Ruben couldn't fathom. Like for once in his life he understood every cue laid out before him. Like his die rolled 20s every single try. But this wasn't a game, this wasn't a roleplay. This was real. And it made him just as nervous and uncertain as it made his heart swell and his knees weak.

Like the first time he'd seen Anruh. Struck by dread, but oh so ridiculously mesmerized all the same.

Keeping his eyes closed, Ruben exhaled softly. If he thought hard enough, he could see her before him. Could imagine her pinning him down to the forest floor. Hand on his chest, claws poking at the skin of his collarbones. Promising to puncture it if he so much as breathed wrong. Perhaps she was waiting for it. Waiting for a moment to strike, to drag her claws down his belly. Cutting him open and granting her easy access to his insides. Because why would she kill him before having her feast? To desire was to hunger. To feel the raw beating of a heart against your lips, to mark up insides in ways that wouldn’t fade and couldn’t be replaced.

And Ruben didn’t mind. 

If Anruh wanted to squeeze his every organ to mush, carve her name into his broken bones and rip his heart from his chest, he’d let her. If only to satisfy that strange and frightening curiosity burning bright within him. If only to satisfy their desire, he’d be her most willing prey.

[flock-of-cassowaries]

I’m having a deep think right now about the overlaps and the differences between the appeal of fascism, and that of libertarianism.

On one level, this is because I am writing a Sucession fanfic, and trying to get into Roman’s head.

But on another level only reason I’m even writing Succession fanfiction is that I identify with Roman, and that is in large part because he is a queer person who is philosophically in the thrall of his terrifying conservative father, whose love he desperately craves.

And once upon a time, that used to be me. And I feel deep and abiding shame about that.

(Not the sexy kind of shame. The devastating kind.)

But as I delve into philosophical discussions of fascism and conservatism (and honestly, I have not yet delved the deeply), I’m starting to realize that maybe I have less in common with Roman, and more with Connor (if we leave out his weird S3 white-nationalism dog whistles about the evils of onanism).

I’m basing a lot of this on the first chapter – which is all I have read so far - of “The Reactionary Mind” by Corey Robin; which I came upon via the source list for the linked YouTube video.

[link to “Endnote 2: White Fascism” by Innuendo Studios, on YouTube.]

Robin (if I’m understanding him correctly) posits that the end goal of conservatism is fundamentally Fishstick fascistic, and that the real animus driving political conservative movements is always the desire of the privileged to remain above those the existing social order oppresses.

I have certainly voted for, and carried water for, conservatives (a fact of which I am, again, deeply ashamed), but I don’t think that was ever the real appeal for me.

I’m not saying I didn’t internalize beliefs that were (I now realize) racist, classist, ableist, and elitist; but I don’t think that was ever the main draw, so much as a side effect of reading the goddamn National Post every fucking day

But for me, I think the main appeal of conservatism was the illusory promise of total self-sufficiency, and of being impossible to further hurt. It was the libertarian lie, bound up in the same nihilistic appeal as the Nine Inch Nails song whose hook is “Nothing can stop me now, cause I don’t care anymore.” (‘Piggy’ is the song.)

In this respect, I think I had more in common with Connor; I was also the discarded child who grew up to think of themself as “a flower that grows on rocks and feeds on the insect that land inside of it.”

Honestly, that soliloquy (from S4E2) could’ve been me at thirteen.

I felt rejected and shunned by the world, but I was also rapidly becoming aware that I could use my looks and intelligence as currency (just a Connor uses his literal currency as currency).

It was only when I was 21, and ended a long relationship, and found myself with no one to turn to, and no idea who I was, that my father swooped in to be my new best friend; and that’s when I became more Roman-like in my fawning attempts to appeal to him.

But I think Roman truly believes that his father is better than him, whereas a much more significant part of me always knew my own dad was a false prophet.

I think the world reaffirmed this belief in Roman, because his father has been so successful, and I think his father, concerned with legacy, has been much more active in fostering this mythology than my own father was.

(My dad would tend to just willfully ignore that l existed for several years at a stretch, if I was acting too cringe [i.e. not stereotypically conservative-lady feminine enough] for his conservative sensibilities; something I am assuming that Shiv could probably relate to.

The scene where Logan tells her he wants her back in the fold was very similar to what my father did with me when I was 21, and I glowed just the same way she did.)

But yeah, I think an internalized belief on Roman’s part that his father truly is better than him, and a desire to “be as good” as his father in order to redeem himself and overcome this inadequacy in his person, really feeds into Roman’s affinity for fascism / conservatism.

And I think that belief structure is with him in that bathroom with Mencken, unacknowledged and subconscious, and even more insidious than his conscious priorities of wanting to win points with Logan, and maaaaaybe wanting to be pushed to his knees and have a fascist phallus (a fascllus? I’m going to hell) thrust upon him.

Anyway, if anyone ever reads this, feel free to suggest some books / essays / videos to my reading list.

So far, in addition to the above-mentioned Cory Robbins tome, I am planning to actually finish “The Ur-Fascist” by Umberto Ecco, and to at least dip into “The Dialectic of Enlightenment” by Horkheimer and Adorno, and “The Authoritarian Personality” by Adorno.

[analysisn3rd]

Rodion Romanovitch Raskolnikoff

Morality

Contrary to popular belief, Raskolnikoff is a good person. I will expand on that shortly in  paragraphs, but I think that it’s quite an obvious thing about him. Before getting more into his morality and why it’s the way it is, I would like to place him on my scale of morality. He would be near the middle, grey, section, but on the slightly lighter side. I think that the most important thing to discuss when it comes to Raskolnikoff’s morality is his relationship with religion. Much like most of his relationships with things, and with people, it is complicated. His faith and belief in God is very much a wavering one, but it never once left him. It is, in no way, stable. Despite its instability, it was able to make him feel immense internal guilt for the crime that he committed, which is something that I will delve further into. What, or more accurately who, strengthened his belief and relationship with God was Sonya’s cross, which she gave to him. Aside from the reasons that relate to her as to why she possibly could’ve done that, she felt that the only thing that made Raskolnikoff still a “redeemable” person is the fact that he believes in God. It’s due to this that he still, somewhat, has morals. Commonly, it’s those who hold a faith, regardless how strong, who have a strong sense of morality. Another thing is that Raskolnikoff’s own sense of morality is always there. It’s awfully corrupted, yes, but its existence made a huge difference in the emotions that he experienced after he committed the crime. Those morals’ corruption could be due to a myriad of reasons, one of which is probably his wavering belief in God, yet it still was able to make him feel immensely guilty. The way that he reacted right after the crime: anxious about people finding out that he was the murderer, hiding everything that could possibly lead to him as the culprit; it all indicates how guilty he feels over killing two people. No amoral person would react that way. An example of his ever-present morality is that he didn’t consider himself an “extraordinary man”. When he was discussing the article he wrote, and Razoumikihin suggested that Raskolnikoff views himself as one, he disagreed. This is due to both his unwavering sense of morality and his very much wavering belief in God. Furthermore, he is still humane due to his sense of “right” and “wrong”. An example of this is when he refused Svidrigaloff’s idea because he found it to be disgusting, and he didn’t want to put someone as important as his sister in a situation such as that. To me, it indicated that he still has potential to better himself and to atone, which I will add upon in the following paragraph. The last thing that I will discuss is his desire for atonement, yet fear of it. He realizes, entirely, that he needs to atone for this “sin” he committed, although he thinks that he’s unworthy of that. The reason for that is because he views atonement as something only for those who aren’t pathetic, lowly or even pitiful as himself. He acknowledges that what he did is wrong, but he thinks that the only “fair” way for him to atone is to die, which is the opposite of the truth.

Personality and insecurities

Raskolnikoff is many things, but most of all, he is contradictory. In a myriad of instances, he contradicted himself on a multitude of things. Aside from that, he’s intelligent, which is shown all throughout the novel. He’s also cold and so terribly unfriendly to the point that it took me by surprise when he wasn’t with Polenka. I even marked that interaction as out-of-character for Raskolnikoff. It’s just a bizarre thing for someone like him to do. The reason for this particular characteristic of his could be due to his nature or because of his living conditions. In addition to that, he’s meek. The way in which he is so is entirely unique and unlike traditional gentleness and softness. He’s withdrawn, in the same way as someone who’s typically meek, but not quite. The reason for this could very well be his philosophy of the world and it might as well be attributed to his introvertedness. Contrary to his usual dark and brooding personality, he can be quite caring, even though he doesn’t show that he cares in a traditional way. The ones he especially cares about are those close to him, like his family, Razoumikihin and  Sonya. The fact that he doesn’t show this care could be due to him seeing it as a potential weakness; an advantage anyone could use to their privilege to get him to do what they want. Another, quite remarkable, I’d say, aspect of his personality is that he’s obsessive. I think that it shows quite a lot in the novel, in numerous instances, but the one time that I found it to be quite memorable was the way that he kept constantly doubting himself about evidence for the murder. He was so terribly frightened that something, anything, could be traced back to him and it led him to a state of illness. He was so horrified that he kept rechecking himself and his room. It drove him insane in an obsessive manner.

Before I discuss his fears, I would like to add that he’s self-deprecating. He belittles himself, and sees himself as less worthy. This could be due to his financial state or due to the fact that he’s a lowly criminal with a poor excuse of a motive for murder. He thinks that everyone else, especially those he cares about, deserve so much more than he ever will, which is why he refused to atone by living. He didn’t see himself as worthy enough for that. I will now be delving into his insecurities. I would say that he’s more troubled than insecure, for there are a few things that he truly fears and worries about. For the most part, he’s a troubled disturbed person, yet very little of this disturbance is caused by his insecurities. They are, however, still important factors within his personality, so I shall be delving into them a little. Due to his obsessive tendencies, he’s afraid of unintentionally hurting those he cares about. He is scared that he would get too obsessed with whatever is occupying his mind and it would cause him to lash out at those he cares for, which has happened before in the novel. Something that couldn’t quite be described as an insecurity, although it’s something that he fears, is change. He’s awfully terrified of change. He finds it strange and uncomfortable. That could be due to a myriad of reasons; it’s unfamiliar, it’s unplanned for, and it’s unwanted. The grandest example of this is his life in prison at the end of the novel. He was gloomy, and miserable, and even though it’s very usual for him to be feeling dull, it was even more than it usually is. It could be a natural thing, though, but I think that it could also be attributed to the fact that he never quite liked change.

Conclusion

Raskolnikoff is a character whom I deeply admire. This sentence sounds horrendous, because of the kind of person that Raskolnikoff is, but I mean it in a character writing sense. He’s so human and complex in a multitude of ways that makes him so remarkable and special. He is an unforgettable character to me, just because of the depth that he has. The amount of detail that Dostoyevsky put into him, and the other characters, is simply marvellous. He’s also quite interesting, I find, due to his personality and just his entire existence is interesting. He’s intriguing in the way that all characters are, in terms of analysis, but even more so because of how realistic he is.

[existentialmagazine]

Review: OCEXNS’ newest storming indie-rock single ‘Headstrong’ delivers a smashing sound, gritty attitude and a release of bottled-up frustrations

Storming onto the music scene, the talented quartet that is OCEXNS have been taking over the indie-rock genre since their formation in December 2022. Making waves in the Scottish music scene, they’ve seen their tracks garnering thousands of streams, all the while their familiarity to fan favourites Twin Wild, Angels and Airwaves, and Vistas has seen them become all the more loveable for new listeners.

Their newest single ‘Headstrong’ takes 2024 by storm as the group’s third ever single and first of the year, reminding everyone the immense level of power their music has to offer. From a booming bassline to a vibrant electric guitar riff to thrashing drums all infused into one storming start, the introduction is already filled with plenty of energy and ambition, summing up what the four-piece have to offer right off the bat. The verse simmers to pave the way for the vocals, instead building tensions with just a moody bassline and subdued drums, picking up progressively as things push forward. The vocals add to the palette of sound just as much themselves, at first smooth and charismatic, but it’s not long before they’re filled with a bit more of an angsty rasp as they sing lines like ‘we might just coexist together til you put me on the shelf’ that are filled with an evident slither of growing frustrations.

The chorus releases all these built-up dislikes, exploding into a ferocious guitar riff, smashing drums and continual deep bass that powers through it all right at the heart. Backing vocals add a chant-along impact to the infectious hooks, leaving you eager to sing along as you’re made to feel that you’re not alone, surrounded by voices that are just as enthusiastic as yours to pour their every emotion in too. It’s hard to not be filled with the adrenaline of it all, caught up on your feet and wildly dancing along, even when the words ache with heartbreak and plentiful questions left unanswered.

As ‘Headstrong’ delves into the theme of a narcissistic partner who’s consumed by their own desires, the track plays out with a handful of emotions that cannot help but jump across the spectrum. From feeling broken hearted to disappointed, to confused and then simply annoyed, ‘Headstrong’ really looks to dive into the whole package of what they had, could’ve been and where it all just went disastrously wrong. From the opening ‘it’s not like me to be lost for words, but here I am’, it’s made clear from the start this is not just unexpected from a partner, but also thrown our protagonist completely out of character too. Things continue to roll downhill, bringing us back to the aforementioned realisation that ‘we might just coexist together til you put me on the shelf’ , knowing this isn’t love but simply living with one another until their partner becomes bored. Further lines like ‘all you want is everything’ and ‘gaslight someone else’ lose the desire to leave room for inference, stating it plainly out of building anger towards the situation and a want to to be heard for how it truly is. There’s no more sweetening of lines or lingering love as they sing ‘rise above the narcissistic tendency to think that the world’s gonna bow to you’, acknowledging the person they thought they knew is perhaps nothing like who they really are.

It’s dominant not just in sound but in meaning, giving it all candidly and unfiltered, and that’s what makes it so damn good. If you’re searching for an anthem to play loud and fiercely, it’s definitely all there in ‘Headstrong’, so don’t forget to keep listening here.

Written by: Tatiana Whybrow

Photo Credits: Unknown

// This coverage was supported and created via Musosoup, #SustainableCurator.

[ave-paris]

Part Eight: Endings and Futures

In doing this project, I’ve found more love in my heart for DA, despite its faults, than I even started with. And with that, despite all these questions I’ve asked, out of everything revealed by Kafka Baudelaire and Plath, I have more questions yet. So here are my ideas for potentially continuing this project in the future, and some things I feel could’ve improved the project:

1. I could’ve lemmatized the data to make it easier to see word occurrences, instead of seeing love/loves/loving etc, just seeing ‘love’. This would’ve upped the word occurrences as well, but was frankly unnecessary for our purposes, just would’ve been more convenient.

2. I’d like to see if DA blogs who write long-form fiction or poetry are at all linguistically similar to the authors they personally reblog the most, or at the very least compare them to the most popular DA authors; especially I’d like to see if they’re good at imitating those authors--if they sound more like the author than the author does sound like themself.

3. I’d also like to run sentiment analysis on this corpus- I didn’t do it for this iteration of the project as it would be time consuming compared to the payoff (since we have enough data to say what the sentiment likely is), but it’s something I’d like to try with more time.

4. From someone who does art history, I’d love to see an analysis of the kind of art styles and imagery Dark Academics like. I can imagine it’s a lot of women, blood, swords, and impressionism or romanticism, but I am not an art historian.

We've learned some really beautiful things about this culture through their language. We learned they lean into love so hard, I believe, out of their close and terrifying relationship with our mortality. I cannot wait to delve into it further.

Other entries:

1 2 A 3 4 5 6 7 8 O B

[abyssal-memories-and-dreams]

Hi! Can i have request of hcs of Idia with a s/o who have same interest or hobbies of him?

Like s/o is a otaku or gamer or even who like staying their room too?

Hi Anon! Thank you for your patience! I figured that now would be the best time to post this headcanon since it is already Idia's birthday in Japan. I hope that you do enjoy this headcanon!

Now without further ado...

The Otakus (Idia Shroud x Otaku! Reader)

So I would actually imagine this relationship starting completely online. Due to both of your hobbies, neither of you would get outside much. Because of this, you’d most likely first meet due to an MMORPG-style game that both of you shared an interest in, followed by a simple friend request.

The more that you’ve bonded over the games that you’ve played (and maybe even trolled other players while doing it), the more you start to realize that you have a lot more things in common than games. It could’ve easily started as a joke that both of you understand or just by having names of popular anime characters in your usernames, but this could also delve into an in-depth conversation on your favorite animes, which ones are the best of the season, etc.

You guys really don’t start dating until after the first few months of your relationship when you decided to meet in person for the first time. Your first date was simple enough - hanging out at a local cafe, just chatting about your day, and otherwise getting to know more about each other better. This eventually led to more dates before both of you agreed to go steady.

As a couple, you mainly bond over the thing that started it all - whether it’s PVP, 1st person, or RPG adventure, you always try out a variety of games for you to play. When you’re not playing a game, you’d usually find yourself watching an anime, whether it’s a classic or a new show. After the first few dates, both of you came to the consensus to have at-home dates where you would simply just relax after the day’s done.

As a little bonus, if you also partake in streaming, you might also be able to convince him to join you in a gaming livestream once in while. Warning, however, that if he does agree, he probably won’t show his face. But that’s fine, though! After all, as long as you’re both having fun, neither of you mind.

[miiamour]

pretty in pink

fem!reader x luna lovegood

summary: you and your girlfriend, luna skip your date to do something more intimate.

warnings: smut, nipple play, thigh riding, tribadism, mommy kink, skirt kink?, edging, cunnilingus.

word count: 1.3k

a/n: i’ve been feeling extra gay lately so here you go. the dom in me did not come to play..

⊱ ──── ˗ˏˋ✧*♡*✧´ˎ˗ ────⊰

it wasn’t your plan to be in the position you were currently in; luna rutting against the thin cotton of your pants. originally the two of you were supposed to have a picnic near the blacklake but instead here you were; sitting on the edge of the bed while she got herself off on your thigh.

once who saw her in her pink skirt that stopped at about her mid-thigh— you simply couldn’t resist. her fair porcelain legs were smooth with small caramel freckles scattered everywhere; as if they were sprinkled on.

it was innocent at first. all she did was straddle your thigh to give you a sweet kiss, no intention of getting off on it. but when you grabbed onto her waist, pulling her closer, you felt her flinch from the friction. then you bounced your leg out of excitement and a whimper fell out her mouth. you couldn’t possibly restrain yourself from doing it again— and again.

her delicate hands gripped onto your shoulder, scrunching up your blouse but you honestly couldn’t have care less. the only thing on your mind was luna, and the way she dragged and thrusted against your thigh, the way her eyes fluttered with every movement, the way her waist fit perfectly in your hands.

the moans that left her lips resembled violins, her whimpers were like harps. everything about her was utterly beautiful. your hands moved all around her torso following along the curve of her body until the landed on the buttons of her top. you impatiently unbuttoned it, revealing her white lace bralette.

“this for me, love?” you asked her while caressing her chest through the see-through material.

“mhm, yes mommy” she went faster with every second your hands stayed on her skin. you followed the hollow of her collarbone with your finger all the way to the strap of the bralette.

“arms up” you demanded more than asked, and she obliged.

once the bralette was off, you placed soft quick kisses all around her chest— purposely avoiding her breast. luna squirmed, her back arching in an attempt to push her chest closer to you.

you wrapped an arm around luna’s waist and pulled her closer as your lips began kissing her breast, easily leaving purple marks. you moved your lips so that they slightly grazed across luna’s nipple which caused her to moved faster and closer to your mouth.

your tongue circled her hardened nipple which resorted in luna wrapping her arms around your neck. although her intent was to grasp onto something so that she could please herself faster, it also resulted in you taking her tit in her mouth which added on to the inferior pleasure.

it was a beautiful picture; luna in nothing but a pink skirt as she was desperately rolling her hips not being able to fully let go. the knot in her stomach was tight and it seemed impossible to undo.

you looked up at her, mouth open in a perfect O shape, and her eyes closed in dedication to reaching her high. it was almost too much of a sightly scene to destroy— almost.

you swiftly lifted luna off of you and moved her to lay on the bed. small whines fell out of her mouth, as did the lack of touch.

“pretty girls don’t whine” you pouted mockingly. luna laid flat on her back as you shuffled down in between her legs. you kissed, licked and sucked her ivory thighs, even nibbling once or twice at her freckles. you felt her legs twitch in anticipation.

you spelt trailed your tongue through her and you both groaned simultaneously. without warning you began dragging your tongue through her folds, lapping at her arousal. there was nothing better than this; watching her writhe underneath you and tasting her— it was better than a cold glass of water on a hot summer day.

you swiped your finger through her. you placed sloppy wet kisses all over her cunt. your tongue circled her entrance as your finger teasingly lingered around her nub.

in a sudden movement, your tongue delved into her, twisting and turning inside of her. her hand grabbed onto your head, tugging on your hair while moans filled the room.

“mhm, so good. yes— merlin” she blabbered liked a baby as you continued to thrust into her.

you looked up at her, one hand was on your head while the other was kneading her own breast. her back was arched away from the mattress and her eyes were closed in pure bliss. your eyes studied every inch of her body, every freckle, every curve, everything.

you lifted her legs and placed them on your shoulders, finding a better, deeper position. you enjoyed it nearly as much as she did.

“i’m close mommy, so close” she whimpered, the new positions causing better pleasure. arousal pooled at your core at the mere sight of luna nearly losing it.

so again, you had to ruin the pretty sight of luna writhing. you moved away from in between her legs and luna pressed her lips together to keep from whining.

you stood up, and slowly undressed yourself as luna watched attentively. you slipped you pants off, your shirt following soon. you moved back onto the bed and bent down to give luna a sweet kiss.

you settled in between her legs, with yours on either side of hers. you lifted her right leg, allowing it to rest on your shoulder. you slowly lowered yourself onto her. your bare cunt barely grazing against hers.

“please mommy” was all luna could mutter, a smirk played your face and you were actually going to teasingly move further from her heat, until—

she gripped you hips and slammed you into her, moans filing the entire room as she guided you. you would’ve definitely punished her— if you hadn’t been so aroused by it.

but yet there you were, allowing luna to control you and you loved every second of it.

heavenly; the only way you could’ve possibly described it, the seraphic feeling of her skin on yours caused your mind to go foggy with lust. with every movement better than the previous, you were sure you had been making love to an angel.

luna moaned and cried, the feeling being too much yet not enough. it was the third time she had neared an orgasm and she was dedicated to finally let go. every thrust caused your nubs to nuzzle against each other, adding onto the euphoric feeling.

your hands were each settled on lunas tits, squeezing and kneading as she cried out of pleasure. her face was twisted an ecstasy, pretty as a a picture— if you could, you’d photograph it and keep it in your wallet.

“please mommy, i’m close, so close! can i come, please!” luna begged as you rutted against her.

“hold it” you moved faster. the knot in your stomach was tight, almost painful. elation running through your veins. her touch was intoxicating; her skin felt like fire against yours, there was nothing but a thin layer of sweat in between the two of you.

luna’s hand slide down to you core, her thumb suddenly circling your clit. “now! fuck—“ you cried out.

euphoria overtook the both of you, you’re legs shook as luna pulled you on top of her— gripping onto your shoulders while her head nuzzled in your neck leaving sloppy thank-you kisses.

you turned your body so that luna’s head rested against your chest. you pulled a blanket over the two of you as the room suddenly seemed much colder than before. her blonde hair tickling your neck as you drew circles into her shoulder.

“you did so good for me, baby” you cooed as she began falling asleep.

“thank you mommy” she muttered as she curled into your arms.

“mhm” you reached towards the lamp near your bed and turned the light off.

you placed a kiss on luna’s temple, “luna?”.

all she could do was murmur a “hmm?”.

“i didn’t forget about your sudden dominance today— don’t worry, you’re tired tonight and i’m feeling nice so i’ll just wait for tomorrow”

taglist: @keepawaythenargles @anywherebuthere @myloveforluna @ga-bitch @miss-starkov @starlight-writes-stuff

[simplysummers]

Discussing Omega’s childhood on Kamino

Maybe I’m one of the only people curious about this as we’re all very hung up on Crosshair right now (understandable, I want our king back too), but I would really like a conversation between Omega and preferably Hunter, but anybody works fine, to delve into what her life was truly like on Kamino. How she was treated, raised, reprimanded, and how this all reflects on her relationship with the bad batch, and specifically in moments where their actions have fatherly intent behind them.

So, here’s what we know so far:

She was essentially raised by Nala Se.

She’s a first gen/holds unmodified Jango Fett DNA. Whether she was created at the same time as Boba, we don’t know, although it is unlikely.

Due to the fact she was unaltered, she must’ve been raised from infancy on Kamino.

She wasn’t allowed her own bedroom, so I speculate she either slept in the medical wing or had some sort of shared quarters with Nala Se.

She was frequently tested and experimented on, quite often against her will.

She was perceived to be property and nothing more than an evaluative source to help further Kaminoan research by everybody excluding Nala Se (potentially)

Her title role was a ‘medical assistant’.

She didn’t have a very warm relationship with the other clones, as we’ve seen they labelled her a “lab scrapper”.

She made friends with the existing medical staff, who were all droids.

And that is essentially it. Of course, we can make speculations, (a few of mine are: she must’ve been tormented by the other cadets for not being like them, she knew 99 and he kept her company whenever Nala Se left her alone, and that although she was educated accordingly for her medical training and basic education, she was very sheltered from things without ‘purpose’ to her life (as we all know, the Kaminoans don’t do anything without purpose) but we don’t actually know anything else about her time on Kamino!

First of all I really want to know WHY she was created. Taking into account she isn’t the same age as Boba (it’s very much suggested she isn’t, I mean she acts, looks, sounds and is treated significantly younger than Boba ever was), and Jango also didn’t request two unaltered clones, she must’ve been created a few years after Boba. Therefore, was Jango aware of her existence? And if he was, did he want her? Again, if so, what did Boba think of her? (We don’t actually see Omega’s reaction to being told she’s different, so although she might not have known of their exact relations to her, it’s very likely she could’ve potentially met Jango and Boba at some point.) So many questionsssss.

Moving on, I’d love to know more about her relationship with Nala Se. We’ve seen that the doctor has a soft spot for Omega, most definitely because she raised and grew to love her instead of deeming her a piece of property (not excusing Nala Se’s vile actions with the other clones, she can still rot, Omega has better parental figures now.), but was it always like that? Did she neglect smaller Omega for being just another clone? Before ‘Mega could show personality and differentiate herself, did Se still view her as nothing more then a test subject? How did that affect her relationship with Omega as a young child.

Speaking of which, what was Omega then like as a smaller child (hard to believe, she’s still so smol lmao), but I’m talking toddler age here. She is basically a regular person, going through regular human changes due to the fact she isn’t altered, which means she would’ve had all of those wretched toddler phases that parents dread. We can most likely assess that she was playful and curious, she still is now, bless her, but how was it received? Smaller children don’t have the complexity to understand the level of technicality that the Kaminoans work at, she wouldn’t have understood the necessity of sitting still and behaving, would she have been severely reprimanded? Was Nala Se nice to her about it? How was she raised to interpret mannerisms of other people in regards to this?

Furthermore, I want to know what tests they were performing on her too. She’s clearly important due to her first hand DNA, but before that was an asset, before the Kaminoans needed that, what were they doing to her? Why were they testing on her? How much pain was she in? Did she receive any comfort afterwards or was she expected to dry her eyes and get on with it? (I’m speculating it was the latter.) I need to know what they were doing and why. What was the purpose!

Her entire previous life is a huge mystery to us and I want to know more! And I hope I’m not the only one!

Just looking at her precious little face hurts because we know she didn’t receive the ideal childhood, if anything it was borderline abusive (I mean, not just testing on her, but the mind games the Kaminoans played with this poor kid, the fact she was well aware she was just an asset to their research and yet she constantly received mixed messages. It’s no wonder she idolised the bad batch so much; they seemed to be the only people who hadn’t either treated her like garbage at some point up until then, or died. Honestly despite the few slip ups, props to them for actually taking her in and being decent towards her.

I mean, this isn’t the purpose of this post, but just look at the comparisons.

She finally receives her own bedroom.

Said bedroom isn’t even a proper room, but they made do with what they could. She even acknowledges this and she still absolutely loves it. It’s decked out just for her with fairy lights, blankets and toys.

As said, she actually owns toys now, we don’t know if she ever did on Kamino, but I’m speculating it was most likely very few if any at all.

She has her own weaponry and equipment, she’s actually being assisted to defend herself and her squad, she’s gaining knowledge the Kaminoans wouldn’t have ever dreamed of giving her.

As we’ve seen with the amount of times she runs to Hunter for protection, she trusts them immensely. They’re doing everything right to gain her apprehensive trust so quickly.

And of course it isn’t just with Hunter (I’m a stan so pardon my consistency with bringing him up) but she’s the same with the entire batch, even Cross to a very mild extent! She trusts Wrecker with her life, she forgave him so easily after the Bracca incident because she knows the difference between someone purposefully trying to hurt her and them having no control over their actions.

We see she’s been patient with Echo and Tech, she loves to listen to them, she’s picked up on Tech’s dialect (as seen in episode seven) and she trusts him to help her whenever necessary, she has such a touching bond with Echo too, their little interactions melt my heart.

I could rant for hours about her bond with Hunter, so maybe that should be it’s own post at some point, but honestly just how she always seeks him out specifically for comfort, protection and reassurance. It’s so beautiful.

The way she’s addressed Crosshair over their few co-existent moments too. She’s tried to reassure him it isn’t his fault, because she knows it isn’t, she trusts him because she has no reason not too, everything he’s done and said to her hasn’t been within his control.

These are all severely different reactions to how she responds to both the Kaminoans on planet, whenever they’re mentioned, and from what we know in regards to how they treated her.

I’m repeating myself from a previous post here but honestly petition to give Megs all the hugs in the universe. She deserves ‘em. 💛

[ssadumba55]

Binders (Looney Tunes X FtM! Reader)

A/N: Literally sorry if this is inaccurate as hell I have not started wearing a binder yet and literally have no idea what entirely happens when you wear one during sports I just wanted to write something cute. Also of course, this is set during Space Jam: A New Legacy so if you haven't seen that don't read under the keep reading thing (spoilers). I know I said a while ago I don't write Looney Tunes, but I have watched both Space Jams and fallen in love. I plan to delve further down the rabbit hole but for now my knowledge is limited to Space Jam so please be gentle if this out of character. Also you can make up a reason how/why you ended up on the team haha. I really didn't think this through I just wrote it. Either way, enjoy!

You looked at yourself in the mirror, it was the halfway point in the game and you were exhausted. You had to play like your life depended on it (because it did) but this entire thing was tiring. Not to mention you could feel the strain from your binder underneath the bright orange and blue Tune Squad jersey. It wasn’t meant to be worn during intense exercise and you were worried this whole ordeal might ruin your chances of getting top surgery.

But you couldn’t go out there without it on. You weren’t flat enough to pass and if they saw your chest there would be questions, questions you weren’t ready to answer. You loved the tunes, but they weren’t exactly the best at being discreet. The idea of being outed to thousands of people in the middle of a life or death basketball game made you shudder.

Glancing over your shoulder to make sure you were really alone, you decided to give yourself a quick break. You pulled the jersey over your head and then the binder, pulling the jersey back over your chest just in case someone decided to barge in. You could easily turn around and pretend to be busy so they wouldn’t see your chest. You sat down, leaning against the wall and closing your eyes.

The burning in your chest was still there but at least now you had room to breathe more than you had before. There was still 10 minutes of half time left (you’d booked it in here as soon as halftime was called), you just had to get through one more half-

“(Y/n)...?” A familiar uncertain voice called and you nearly jumped two feet in the air. Your arms immediately crossed over your chest.

“Daffy! Shouldn’t you be out there? You are the coach, right?” You laughed nervously, stepping in front of your binder still laying across the bench you’d been sitting on. If Daffy was here, it was only a matter of time before the other tunes and worst of all, Lebron James, noticed you two were missing.

The cartoon duck put his hands, wings?, on his hips.

“We’ve been looking for ya, ya didn’t hear tha new looney game plan. Is something tha matter?”

His question was genuinely curious. He clearly didn’t understand why you were hiding away from the rest of the group, he was just worried for his friend and you couldn’t blame him. It did seem a little weird that you were back here, hiding, when you guys were losing the game so badly.

“I- I’ll be right out, just let me finish getting ready,” you promised him, “catch me up on the way out to the court?’

He shrugged and nodded, walking away to give you your own privacy. You sighed, looking down at your binder. Things would’ve been so much easier if you’d just been born a male. You wouldn’t need to risk your body wearing this thing during sports.

You pulled your jersey over your head and began to pull the binder over your chest. Once it was back on, you could feel your body protest immediately, but you didn’t have a choice. You threw your jersey back on and headed out, checking yourself over in the mirror once before.

“Alright, guys. I’m ready…” You walked out, hands on your hips to greet your teammates, only to be met with unreadable expressions on everyone’s faces. It was as if they somehow knew what you were doing and disapproved. You only had a couple minutes before you all needed to be on the court though, so nobody said anything.

The group headed back out and you tried to match the energy, but you had to face the music. Your body was strained, even without the binder this would be a lot to put it through and with it, it was almost unbearable. You took a step toward the court to join the others, and the world felt a little fuzzy.

You must’ve fallen and blacked out, because the next thing you know you’re laying in a bed and somehow you’re not dead. Maybe that had all been a crazy dream. You’d never gotten stuck in a server forced to play basketball with an all powerful algorithm. You’d never worn your binder during it all, you’d never met the Looney Tunes.

For a moment you fooled yourself into believing that. And then a sharp pain came through your body.

You let out a cry of pain and the door was pushed open.

“You’re okay!” You hadn’t been expecting the Tunes to be on the other side of the door… or in this world in general but somehow seeing them made you relax a bit. If they were here that must’ve meant they’d won the game. No thanks to you, but they hadn’t been deleted. They’d defeated Al-G. Lebron had gotten his son back.

“I’m okay. What are you guys even doing here anyway?” You asked, slightly exhausted.

Daffy and Bugs both hopped on the bed, trying to fight for a spot to sit (that apparently needed to be the spot where the other was sitting). You watched them squabble for a bit before Lola pulled them apart.

“Stop that, you’re going to hurt him,” she scolded them, shoving them to the side, then turning to address you.

“We were worried about you. Mr. James was really nice and let us stay for a bit so we could be here when you woke up,” she explained.

“You weren’t supposed ta be wearing that thing on your chest, were you?” Daffy crossed his arms over his own chest and you laughed nervously. They all knew. You wondered who had explained it to them.

“Look, guys. I know you’re mad that I lied to you-”

They all blinked, exchanging looks as if the thought had never even crossed their minds. Your face heated up, had you said something wrong?

“We weren’t mad about your gender, (Y/n), if that’s what you’s thinking. We’re just worried about that chest thing. They said you was wearing it the whole game until you passed out. You know that’s not healthy, right?” Bugs' ears had flopped behind his head.

You laughed nervously. “No it’s not, you’re right. I should’ve known better, I’ll be more careful next time. Sorry guys.”

They seemed to genuinely accept this apology, though they still looked worried. You prodded them to tell you what happened during the game after you passed out and they did relay it in shocking detail, you wished you could’ve been there to see it. After a while, they were ushered out so you could get some rest, Daffy hung back.

“I saved this for ya. Thought ya might want it.” He handed something tattered, it was your binder. They must’ve cut it off to save time. It had cost so much to get and it was all down the drain now. You took it, tossing it across the room into the trash can by the door. You winced as you laid down but it had gotten in and you were satisfied.

“I’ll get a new one, thanks though, Daffy.” You smiled at him and when the two of you met eyes, you could see that genuine curiosity from before. “You want to hang out here for a bit? I know I’m supposed to be resting but I feel like I’ll go insane if I can’t talk to someone.”

Daffy placed his one hand on his hip and brought the other up to tap his beak as if deep in thought, then all of a sudden, he launched himself up on the bed.

“Let me tell ya something, (Y/n). I have been working on something I can’t show tha others yet and you’re tha perfect person to try it out on-”

You felt all warm and fuzzy as he continued to ramble. There was something special about being accepted by a bunch of cartoon characters you’d looked up to for so long. Even though you were certain they didn’t fully understand, having their support and friendship meant the world.

You’d be sad when it was time for them to head back to Looney Tune World.

Oh well, maybe you could visit them sometime.

[aetheternity]

Hello! I’ve read your work and fallen in love! I don’t know if your requests are open, but I really like the Armin x you x Levi post you wrote🥰 may I please request a smut of this? Thank you!

First of all thank you! I'm so glad you're in love with my work. 😊 Second of all I'm sorry this took a while I got sick and writing smut while being sick is honestly disgusting. Plus I recently fell in love with Saiki K and have been binge watching it . 🤭 N e ways! Hope you enjoy this.

Warnings: Polyamory, threesome, Nsfw content.

Ok you'll be honest with yourself four years ago you didn't expect to be as happy as you are now. 

After you'd grown sick of your living arrangement with your parents. You'd left that life behind. Moving into the small empty bedroom your best friend since your last year of middle school had open in his surprisingly tiny apartment. 

And when you said tiny. You meant tiny. 

Some rooms in the apartment weren't even big enough for someone to stand in with their arms outstretched. Not to mention a couple of your nights were spent huddled next to Armin on the couch with a huge blanket around your bodies because the heat randomly shut off. 

You'd think a situation like that would be worse. But weirdly enough it had been the best for both of you as your relationship had always had a sort of looming sexual tension that went unexplored. 

Long lingering touches to your waist got just a little bit longer while trying to squeeze past you in the bathroom. "Sorry I just need my brush." Armin would whisper. Warm palm against your hip. The ghost of his pelvic bone so close yet so far away. Just the realization making you arch in his grasp. You'd hold his gaze and in the back of your mind you could watch the soft slither of his tongue as it wet his gorgeous pink lips so many times over. 

Of course it escalated with neither of you ever saying a word about your feelings. You spraying water from the sink on a shirtless Armin during a heat wave that just wouldn't let up as he walked into the kitchen wearing only grey sweatpants. (Yup.. only sweatpants.) The way they hung so low on his hips practically begging for your tongue to stretch across the expanse of his pelvis. 

Him hugging you tight around the waist for literally any reason he could think of. (And he found a new reason everyday.)

And then it escalated a little further.. you pulling back the shower curtain to "complain" about him eating your leftovers. Him pulling you into his lap while the two of you watched tv. 

And one day it just ended. And by ended it meant you two opened a bottle of wine on New Years and the ball wasn't the only thing that dropped. He had you laying ass up, legs spread and pussy sobbing as he rocked your hips for eight fucking hours with no stop. Did that table break? During hour five but Armin managed. 

And then you guys moved. After a mutual agreement that the two of you were aware of each other's feelings and wanted to be together. You'd both managed to pool enough money together to afford a bigger place with two bedrooms. One unused and one that was immediately broken in with Armin over stimulating you the second the boxes were halfway unpacked. 

Fast forward to a man named Levi moving in across the hall, him developing feelings for you over a long period of seeing you daily thanks to his best friend absolutely adoring you and constantly inviting herself into you and Armin's home.

After a while you'd started picking up on the signs of his affection too. His long glances that sometimes didn't even break when you looked back at him. The little gifts that began to show up at your door. The way he'd bring over food when he knew Armin wasn't home. 

Once you'd started to develop feelings too Armin allowed you a night. One night to see if those feelings were actually real and what they might mean. Cue a night of carriage rides, roses (lots and lots of roses), stargazing and a kiss that damn near floored you and it was more than one night. 

Two nights and Levi had had you on his couch with him snuggled in what would soon become your favorite blanket. Three nights and Levi had you eating his mom's homemade spaghetti. And by a week you were begging for Levi to fuck you harder, fingers shaking on his white tiled kitchen floor. His relentless thrusts still causing your thighs to tremble hours after. 

He looked so lost in bliss in a way you'd never seen him before and you hugged onto him so tight you didn't even go back to Armin that night. Just curled up under your favorite blanket on his couch with his cock nestled deep inside you. His kisses littering your face till the moment you fell asleep. 

It was definitely a cause for fear. An unrelenting kind and you sat down on the couch with Armin the next day explaining how deeply you loved them both. Only to be shocked when he brought up the topic of polyamory. It definitely shocked you a ton when Armin agreed to it after some explanation of his own feelings but the real surprise was Levi explaining how he'd also thought about it and would be up for it. 

And thus began the beautiful bloom of a poly relationship after him and Armin had gotten better acquainted. You know after you guys all moved because Levi hated living in the apartment. 

The three of you left to live in a gorgeous house. (For once you were living in a place with more than one floor and an island in the kitchen.) A place you'd been calling home for over a year now. 

~~~~ 

Your breath hitched soft moans stuttering off your lips. You don't even remember who started it but here you and Armin were, his breath tickling every bit of your face with sweet languid kisses. One hand brushing over every curve you possessed while the other was softly brushing in between your pussy lips. 

Your body perched in his lap as he sat against the headboard. Pillows scattered around the two of you as you writhe and begged for more of his touch. 

You were probably drawing blood where you were grasping his shoulders but you couldn't even begin to think about it. Armin's warm breath tickling your lips in a soft chuckle. The tips of his fingers softly caressing your clit as you let out little whimpers of pleasure. 

"You promise you'll moan nice and loud for daddy's fingers?" He asked, closing the distance between your lips with a much slower kiss. 

"Yes." You could feel his nail brush inside and you almost buried his fingers but his harsh grip on your ass paused your movements. Your thighs shook and you rubbed your forehead against his. Leaned into his broad chest with both hands. "Please daddy.." 

"Good girl." 

With one more small kiss he laid you out flat on the bed free hand coming up to squeeze your areola. With a tap of your outer thigh you spread for him watching the way his spit dribbled off his lips and directly onto your already wet hole. The mixture making a much wetter sound as he pumped two fingers fully inside. 

With a gasp you yanked the sheets hard, almost squeezing your thighs together. His fingers curling, snatching your breath away. The bed creaked a little as he repositioned himself, stomach flat against the sheets with his mouth on your thighs. Spreading a soft array of little open mouthed kisses. 

"A-Armin.." 

"Keep your ankles in the air, love. I don't wanna punish you tonight." He breathed 

You sucked in a breath, reaching out to hold your ankles. Almost immediately you felt embarrassed by the high pitched moan that fell off your lips at the first long slide of his flat tongue over your pussy lips.

And then right in between them in a beckoning motion over your clit that had you biting into your lip. The smile on his lips so evident over your core. 

You lifted your head in time to watch the slow drip of more of his saliva stretch between your clit and his bottom lip. Tongue immediately outstretched with eyes drawn to your features as he lapped it back up again. 

With his free hand he spread apart your pussy lips a little further giving your clit an almost harsh knead with his thumb. The friction making you cry out and almost drop your legs onto his back. 

His fingers carefully slipped out of you to your own dismay. The slow drag against your walls almost painful, that is until his tongue was sliding in to replace them. Giving your inner walls a massage that made your gaze fall white. 

You felt him hum. Sweet vibrations flowing through your cunt as he slurped down every bit of your juices. His arms snaking around your legs to yank you so much closer as he pushed his tongue impossibly deeper. 

"Daddy.." You begged 

"Shh, keep moaning for me baby.." He hummed, flicking your clit with his thumb. 

You obeyed with an arch that probably could've launched you off the bed if not for Armin's tight hold. Your eyes squeezed shut, brain going completely empty. 

"Such a good girl." He breathed "So good for daddy." 

The pad of his tongue stretched over both sides of your lips with little nibbles. Sucking the skin into his mouth roughly. You could feel his eyes on you, practically see those bright blues pop with lust as he pressed his tongue back inside with languid thrusts. 

Your heartbeat pounded in your ear and you felt the hold he had on your legs loosen. His two fingers delving and sliding back into your warm fluttering cunt. The overwhelming pleasure forcing your hands back on the bed holding out for dear life. 

"Daddy.. daddy please.." You cried 

"Getting close baby?" When you nodded vigorously he smirked. "Come on baby almost there." He hummed 

He sped up his tongue, fingers stretching you open quickly adding another. Your breath caught with a high pitched cry that left tears  flowing over your cheeks. An endless chorus of his name flooding off your lips. His own moans sending vibrations through your core. 

Your stomach tightened, toes curling in the air as you tried and failed to steady your breathing. One of your hands unfurled itself from the sheets now sticking to your sweat soaked body. Carding it in the beautiful blond locks between your legs. 

"Baby.. baby I'm about to-" He sucked your clit into his mouth and your eyes went hazy, head falling back. 

"Finish baby, come on.." He whispered 

Your lips spewed curse words between every breath lost. When his fingers tapped smoothly against your g-spot you knew that was it for you. And with one last shudder you came around his fingers, screaming his name as your orgasm racked over you in a loud burst. 

And he licked up every drop, nose buried to collect it all like it was the best thing he'd ever tasted. 

"A-Armin.." You shuddered body flush and hazy. 

His fingers feel wet, a combination of your pussy juices and the sweat between both your bodies. You slowly blinked in the darkness combing strands of his hair back as your lips made contact. The mixture of your taste and his on your tongue, in an almost overwhelming way. 

You tensed under him. Hands stretching over every part of him you could reach only for him to back away a bit. With your nails still gently grazing over your back he pressed his damp forehead into yours, fingers sweeping over every bit of bare skin. 

With barely any warning he hoisted you to your feet next to the edge of the bed. And you reached out for his shoulders as he slipped his boxers down his legs. Inching himself back up to the headboard. 

"Take a seat." He gestures, laying back. 

He's got a hand around your waist in seconds. His cock soon just below you, so so close to where you wanted it. Where you needed it so badly. 

Your knees came down on both sides of him, carefully administering your weight evenly until every inch of his hot cock was stretching you open. His tip soon resting firmly against your cervix like it always did and you both relinquished a sweet gasp. 

"F-fuck.. so full.." You huffed 

It felt like it had been so long when in reality it'd probably only been a week. And yet you were moaning like you'd been starved of him. Rocking your hips like he'd punished you with no cock for months. 

Suddenly his arm wrapped itself around your waist again. He hoisted you up with a strong hold moaning directly in your ear as he thrusted up into you like it was the first time. His knees pressing your thighs open.

A hiss falling off your lips as he kissed over your shoulder and collar. Hands squeezing both your breasts like they were his personal stress balls. 

You hadn't been aware of how hard Armin was going until the rough knocks of the bed hitting the walls finally began to settle in your ear. But you could barely care Armin's cock was hitting every spot inside of you and your leg was starting to twitch where it was forced outward. 

His breath grew more ragged with every thrust. Sweat dripping off your forehead onto his. His sweet murmurs of praise turning you on even harder.

"Love, you take me so well.. You're doing so amazing…." He moaned 

You leaned your head into him, feeling that sweet familiarity deep in the pit of your stomach. You reached around to the back of his head, yanking a little rougher than intended on his scalp. 

The uneven slaps of your skin meeting managed to keep the two of you distracted  until the sound of the door practically slamming into the wall shook you both to a halt. 

Levi's dry sigh filled the once noisy bedroom. "Do you two have to make so much noise? I'm busy with a work project." 

Despite Levi's gripes Armin angled his cock back towards your g-spot barely grazing it but it was enough to force a little mewl from your lips. 

He laughed, pulling you a little closer. "Mm sorry Levi. Didn't know we were being so loud." 

There was a small glint in Levi's eyes. The quick dart of his pupils to where you and Armin were joined and then back up to your face putting a devious grin on your face. 

"You should take a break, daddy." You said 

"Tch." Levi huffed, "This thing needs to be done by tomorrow. I don't have time for this." 

You reached out for him with one arm. An arm that unsurprisingly didn't even reach close to him from his stance near the bedroom door. By this point Armin's thrusts were going at almost the same pace as before. Not as rough but enough to resume the gentle rock of the bed. 

You let out a soft moan as Levi took the bait, slowly walking over to the bed. His finger carding affectionately through your tousled hair. He leaned in, pecking your kiss swollen lips. 

If there was anything you knew for a fact about Levi it was that he always had a hard time saying no to you. 

To be completely honest it didn't surprise you that Levi was already more than a little hard. Though it did surprise you how easily he gave in today. Watching with unchanged expression as you pulled his belt from the loops and buckle, undoing it with a light clatter which quickly followed the almost inaudible sound of his zipper being pulled down.. 

You let out a relaxed hum, lip pressed between your teeth at the sight before you. His thick cock poking out over the hem of his underwear. You grasped at the sheets with one hand a little shaky as you slipped his boxers down over his ass until they pooled at his ankles. 

Armin slipped his hand under you right up against your stomach. Levi immediately followed suit already knowing what he was doing. He stepped over to the edge of the bed as Armin laid you down on your stomach. Levi's wet tip dangling in front of your lips. Before you could even register it Armin had your hips in the air slipping all the way back inside with a loud gasp. 

Meanwhile you were wetting your lips. Hand curving up and down the length of his dick. You inched forward on your elbows to slowly surround Levi's dick in the warm confines of your mouth. The hiss he let out sending shivers over your spine.

"How's it feel? I know how much you love taking two dicks." Levi grunted 

Armin reached forward, tugging your hips in close with one hand. The other hand on your ass as leverage. Allowing him to ease out to his tip before slamming back inside. Your eyes rolling back with pleasure. 

As if it wasn't already difficult enough to take Levi he wasn't even fully hard yet. Just expanding in your mouth as you coaxed your throat into relaxing enough to slide every thick inch down. 

"I know that pretty mouth can do so much better than this." He reaches out with zero warning to grab a fist full of your hair. Yanking you forward with barely any restraint. 

Though you must admit the sound that leaves his throat when he does is almost worth the tears pricking over your hollowed cheeks. 

"Baby I'm so fucking close.. I'm gonna fill your pussy." Armin sighs, his hand comes down to wrap around the base of your throat angling your mouth into Levi's rough thrusts. 

Your heart is hammering but you close your mouth as best as possible without biting to take Levi's cock. Already feeling the effects on your jaw as he presses in a little harder with a deep moan. 

By now his cock is fully hard rocking you back into Armin with deep rough thrusts that almost make you gag. 

"That's my g-irl.." Levi grunts, even though they're small his nails dig into your scalp so roughly you could swear you felt something trickling down to the back of your neck. 

You grip the bed sheets with both your toes and fingers, the creaking around you unmistakable. 

"I'm cumming.. I'm cumming!" Armin cries out and you'd honestly give anything to see his gorgeous blue eyes roll back and the little smile that curves against his lips as he climaxes. 

You finish just a couple seconds ahead of him. Eyes unfocused where they roll into shut. Little sounds muffled by the thick dick stretching open your throat. The feeling of Armin's cum flooding your walls makes you whimper and he lets out the softest moan as his orgasm slowly whittles away. 

Your gaze soon fixes on Levi only to be met with the prettiest tint of pink brushed right up against his cheeks. His eyes pressed tightly closed, lips parted over every harsh breath. 

It didn't take long for the sweet drag of Armin's cock to begin again. His light touches to your spine making you arch a little higher. 

"You look so fucking pretty, you know that?" Armin mummered, cock slamming into your g-spot. "Doesn't she look gorgeous, Levi?" He asked with a little whimper. 

Levi's eyes fluttered open a hint of a smirk cresting on his lips. "Like she's gonna.. pass out.." He combed your hair back again gripping it a little tighter forcing your head up. He paused at the back of your throat. "Can't take it baby? Want me to pull out?" 

You grunted at every slam of Levi's dick until that all too familiar sound flooded your ears, followed by almost every curse in the english language. 

"You're doing so well.. f-uck.." He moaned "Swallow my cum.. swallow it. I'm almost there.." 

Levi hoisted his leg up against the already shaky foot of the bed using as much leverage as possible. His fingers tugging your head forward on every pump of his thick cock. Mixing with the loud gasps of Armin behind you as he also neared his end. 

And with one more deep thrust Levi was spilling down your throat with a choked groan. Cock head nestled deep in your tired throat holding you still as his orgasm flooded from his body. 

You were a little relieved when he stepped back allowing your jaw to relax. The still wet tip pressing sweetly against your lips. 

"Such a pretty girl.." He said, so low you thought you imagined it. 

"Switch with me." You heard Armin say 

You sighed as his cock left you, feeling yourself immediately being flipped onto your back. His large hands coming down from where he now stood over you to perfectly envelop your breasts. Meanwhile Levi was pulling your hips close and sliding in as effortlessly as he always did. 

"Levi!" You threw your head back 

Armin smirked over you, his hands kneading a little rougher. You arched into his touch pressing the balls of your heels into Levi's back, pushing him just a little deeper- 

God it was perfect. The feeling of his dick so much different from Armin's but honestly just as perfect. The moan you let out was downright pornographic and you pressed your head back into Armin's thigh. 

One of Armin's hands came up to your face brushing aside your hair soaked in tears. "You look perfect. But I wanna make you more perfect." 

He pulled himself off the bed, sliding a hand over your cheek. "I wanna paint your face baby. It's so perfect.." He mumbled already pumping his long dick over your face. "You'll let me right.." He whimpered 

When he leaned in again it was to press a little kiss to your lips. "P-please.." 

The curve of his lips made your heart flutter in your chest. "Mm.. let Levi see when I'm finished." 

One of Armin's hands sat rather aggressively on the edge of the bed. And you could see the way every vein in his hand moved. Grip tightening a little with every pump of his cock, back and forth his knuckles practically ripping through his skin. 

You gasped as Levi leaned over you, fat cock pressing into your G-spot. "Stop ignoring me." He grunted 

He slid his teeth beneath your earlobe administering a barrage of sweet nibbles mixed with more aggravated bites. 

"Levi.. Levi!!" 

Armin gasped above you, "Almost there.." He moaned 

A bright white was starting to take over your vision as you shut your eyes, mouth hung open for Armin's cock with absolutely no sound coming out as Levi continued to use your tired pussy. 

Small huffs of fuck littering the air. You bore your nails into Levi's back and chest. His leg shaking against you as he pushed through his last thrusts. 

"I-I'm.. I- shit!" Armin came first, missing Levi's head by a hair (literally) as ropes of hot cum plopped onto your face, you barely registering it as your own orgasm hit you like a two ton truck. Levi's thumb coaxing small spasms from you through your clit. 

Levi huffed, face scrunched, lip bitten and eyes shut as he came for the second time with a hard gasp. 

The room went quiet for what couldn't have been any longer than 2 minutes before Armin was pulling himself up from where he'd slumped over the bed. 

"Levi, look how sexy she looks with my cum all over her face." He cooed 

It stuck to your eyelids as you blinked though ultimately chose to keep your eyes shut. You felt Levi's small chuckle and the brief feeling of him slipping out of you to your own disappointment.

"Open baby." Armin said 

As soon as you did his fingers slipped into your mouth. The salty/sweet residue of his cum littering your tongue. Quickly joined by Levi who swiped his thumb across your eyelids before pressing it into your mouth. 

"How're you feeling?" Armin asked as you opened your eyes slowly. 

You blinked in their faces standing above you with a small smile. "Tired." 

"You can't sleep until you've washed off. It'll be better for you anyway." Levi replied, heading into the bathroom. 

Armin quickly followed after carefully lifting your fatigued body off the bed. It took a couple minutes for Levi to get the temperature to perfect but once he did you slowly felt yourself sinking into perfectly warm water. 

The soreness in every part of your body already beginning to dissipate as you leaned back against the edge of the tub. 

"We did a number on you hmm?" Armin asked, carding your hair back. 

"I'll make you some tea once you're cleaned up. Then we can cuddle under your favorite blanket." Levi said 

"Thank you guys but I feel like I could fall asleep here." You say lifting your thighs for Levi to clean under. 

"I promise I'll pay you back big time tomorrow." Armin replied, rubbing your arm with soap. 

Your lips curled up deviously, "Now that I look forward to." You grab his chin pulling him into you, pecking his lips. 

[abumbledbee]

Tubbo and Wilbur’s Parallels

tw/ mentions of death / suicidal ideations

“If I can’t become the next Schlatt, then you can’t become the next Wilbur.”

This is a quote from Tubbo, given just before the exile arc began, when he was arguing with Tommy. Tommy accused him of acting like Schlatt because he was putting the nation's needs before him. Tubbo, offended at the comparison, reminds Tommy that he is acting irrationally, and is reminding Tubbo of Wilbur.

When we speak of parallels between Tubbo and Tommy with Schlatt and Wilbur, we’re often inclined to compare Tubbo with Schlatt, because they worked together so closely during Schlatt’s reign, and the complicated relationship between them which ultimately ended up with Schlatt having Tubbo lose a canon life for his betrayal. And due to Tommy and Wilbur's close relationship before and up to Wilbur's betrayal, it's easy to draw comparisons between them as well.

But I think we often overlook a lot of similarities between Tubbo and Wilbur that are worth delving into more, and the farther Tubbo goes with his character the more comparisons I keep catching. At this point I think Tubbo's character parallels Wilbur's far more than Tommy's does.

Wilbur was the founder of L’Manberg, and its first president. It’s a nation he built from the ground up, which started as nothing more than a front for his drug lab but grew into something bigger and more meaningful than Wilbur ever planned for. While on the server he found love (?) and had a child, Fundy, and then things began to get rocky as they fought for their independence against Dream.

Ultimately Wilbur fails to protect L’Manberg and their independence is bought by way of Tommy sacrificing his discs in return. Wilbur ends up losing his country by way of being exiled when Schlatt wins office, and we watch his descent into madness as he realizes how much he cared for the country and how no matter what he does, what it once was is gone forever in his eyes. The Pogtopia arc originated with Wilbur trying to come up with a plan to secure his presidency again and to reclaim his country. It ends with Wilbur refusing his original role and ultimately destroying the very thing he created along with himself because he couldn’t bear to see what it or himself had become.

In Wilbur’s darkest moments we see them play out on screen, his button room is one of the most iconic scenes we got during this period of the storyline. Wilbur in an enclosed space, surrounded by the signs reminding him of what L’Manberg once was and what it would never be again. He's hounded by his thoughts, his mental state shattered and he no longer believes there's any other course of action.

Ultimately this is his final resting place, the room where he sets off the TNT that destroys L’Manberg for the first time. He begs his father, who had just arrived to the server because he was worried when Wilbur stopped sending him letters, to kill him. And Phil does.

L’Manberg’s story does not end here, despite what Wilbur did. It begins again, with Tubbo and a crater. We talk about Tubbo being president of L’Manberg as though he was just taking on the role and a nation the way Schlatt did, but in reality, he founded it again. Tubbo, along with Phil and others, REBUILT an entire city on the rubble of its former life. Tubbo’s L’Manberg is in fact nothing like Wilbur’s, except for the parts Tubbo purposely recreated, like the camar van.

The major difference in their takes on presidency is that Tubbo did this for Tommy, for Wilbur, for the original citizens. He took on the role of President out of duty to Wilbur who passed it down to him when he felt unfit to rule again. He did his best on behalf of everyone who fought on Pogtopia's side, to reclaim a nation they all had lost. In the end he lost it one final time, chunk errored by way of Phil, Techno, and Dream.

And from here on we see a new Tubbo. The bright-eyed, president-elect is no more, and instead he begins to isolate himself from the main server. He retreats to a snowy biome separated by water, and builds a house and gives it a name. Snowchester. Now, most people wouldn't give just a house a name. Even from the start Tubbo was creating a new community, without even realizing. Eventually Snowchester grew to be a legitimate colony of its own, with Jack Manifold, Foolish, and Puffy all moving in and setting up shop. He declares independence, and in doing so, decides he must ensure it any way possible. He's seen what happened to Wilbur's L'Manberg, how helpless the other man was in keeping it safe. He knows he failed his own L'Manberg, and he will not let it happen again.

He hatches a plan with Jack, and the answer is.... Nukes. A bomb, in other words. But instead of using it to destroy his nation, it'll be used to protect it. Tubbo designs it, and they ensure it works with a test launch before decommissioning the remaining two. Time passes and eventually, he's opening up to people again. Tubbo marries Ranboo and they adopt a child together.

Suddenly it's not just Tubbo, it's Tubbo and Ranboo, Tubbo and Michael, and then Tommy is gone. It's shocking, and unexpected, and he doesn't believe it at first. He's been so beaten down under Schlatt's regime he no longer openly shows his emotions, the closest we get to seeing his true grief during this time is when he stares at the memorial he just finished for Tommy in Snowchester. Then comes the anger.

He wants to know how this could've happened, he tries to investigate it, but before he can get too deep into it, Tommy's back. Revived, and Tubbo has had to experience losing him and gaining him back again twice now. Inevitably, like with most of Tommy's plans, Tubbo is roped into his next one. And it's a doozy. Tommy reveals that he wants to kill Dream, to ensure he can never revive anyone else, and Tubbo reluctantly accepts.

One of the most troubling moments during his investigative time was when he made a room for him to fill with his notes and evidence. At first glance it is deeply reminiscent of Wilbur's button room, the walls covered in signs and his lectern in the middle of the room mimicking the button. Because Tommy returns before he can get further in his investigating we'll likely never see this room again, but seeing him make it to begin with filled me with unease.

Tubbo has lost his fear of death. It's first noticed at Doomsday, when he defeatedly jumped in front of Techno's rocket launchers over and over again. We see inklings of it again and again, such as when he scoffs at his chat begging him not to investigate Techno for the TNT at the prison, saying he'd die. Tubbo just replies with "So be it." and continues on. We see it again when he and Ranboo investigate the Eggpire and get caught, and he continues to fight with them until he's only got a few hearts left. He mentions feeling exhilarated, full of life from almost losing his last. It's a reminder of the violent life he's had til this point, his time in the SMP filled with war and bloodshed since the very beginning. He's not afraid to fight despite being on his last life, in fact at times he seems almost ready to end it all.

Yesterday's lore stream was unsettling in a few different ways. The first being Tubbo casually mentioning how his eyes play tricks on him. It's a throwaway mention towards possible hallucinations or paranoia. He also refers to himself as paranoid later on when he's worried someone's hurt Michael, and it bothers him so bad that the next minute he rushes over to ensure Michael is safe. He is willing to do whatever he must now, to ensure Michael can grow up safely, much like Wilbur wanted for Fundy, with no Dream to terrorize the server any longer.

Wilbur's initial wish for L'Manberg once it was fully formed was for it to be a nation his son could grow up safely in, with all the possibilities at his fingertips, until their independence was threatened and he had to focus on leading an army instead of being a father.

But even more upsetting than that, is Tubbo's admission to how he designed the nuke. He tells Jack after one is stolen that there is a manual detonation option, a dead man's switch. He designed the bomb to have a suicidal solo detonation option as a last resort, so if he ever needed to use it and Jack wasn't there he could take matters into his own hands. Tubbo was so ready to ensure if something happened to his self-made colony he could deal his revenge even at the cost of his final life. His reasoning for making the nukes was not for self-defense, it was so he could finally take a swing back at whoever took from him again. He'd seen L'Manberg destroyed twice by people who initially sided with it, had 2 canon lives ripped from him by way of betrayals. He might not have thorns on his armor but by god will his death have them, and heaven help whoever is on the receiving end of his suicide-start nuke.

This mimics Wilbur's final steps but from the logical, more level-headed mind of Tubbo. He's created a bomb, a weapon of destruction he's willing to die with. Wilbur wanted to die with L'Manberg, Tubbo is willing to die for Snowchester.

[rotshop]

if i were any stronger of a man i would b writing hof + jeb + s/o angst soooo much .

[ tw body horror + experimentation under the cut, reader is a wild goddamn animal / monster , blood mention ]

i just think reader deserves to be pretty nice and kind, not the most stand-outish person (especially among all the more eccentric personalities in nexus) but you're respected enough for your advancements and for being pretty ok to work with. You're a breath of normality and a sort of lingering sense of 'hey, we're still just a bunch of people,' for most. Anyway you're also besties w/ hof and jeb lol. You three might not work super closely together project wise but it's not uncommon to see the three of you together. You give each other advice on your respective works-in-progress and just try and calm down a little while talking about whatever comes to mind.

Maybe what happens to you is an accident, something as simple as a miscalculation overlooked by sleep-deprived eyes, an unfortunate catch of your feet and a trip. Maybe it's brought on after a slow decline, normality crumbling to something else- something more 'eccentric,' more mad, as you delve into the world of self-experimentation, walking further and further down a path not ventured.

Maybe it just happens. Maybe they try their best to prevent it. End of the day, the results still the same.

Your sudden disappearance and locked office-door could've been explained away with you being sick or away on business you'd forgotten to mention. It could've, if it weren't for the new project file sitting right next to Gestalt's on the very same day you'd taken your leave, if it didn't have such little information (that was legible, at least, even with Hofnarr's high access there were still blocks and blocks of blacked out text) aside from one 'Dr. [name],' that sits with an explanation that's not for their eyes to see. Maybe that's the snapping point for Jeb- the thing that makes him storm to Phobos' office without stopping for any guard who asks him to. Maybe all Hof can do is sit and stare, doing his best to avoid the inevitable conclusion with an ever-weakening smile and shaking hands with nails that dig into his arms desperately for some sort of clutch.

Maybe there's a sense of finality when they finally see you. An overwhelming numbness that cancels out any real shock or fear at the torn skin and long, sharpened claws. There's nothing at the large teeth that're stuck bared, at the collar that sits tight around your neck, the dried blood that clutches onto your flesh and stains the floor under you with sticky crimson, or the spikes that pierce your body here and there. There's little left of you, the distant shreds of a white coat (the clips still on it, card long since been snapped off in fear you would learn and escape with it) and some matted, grimy hair that mirrors yours.

Maybe there's a question that's falling past Hof's lips before he can think twice about it at the miserable state you're in. Maybe there's a moment of hesitation in whatever on-site guard bears witness to it, clicking their tongue distastefully before stepping aside wordlessly as the door opens. Maybe the two of them find themselves walking towards you despite how you're pushing yourself up off the floor (you struggle with it- one of your arms giving underneath your weight before you can finally get yourself up, arms and legs still shaking with the energy you just don't have), backing away slowly with some low, threatening sound that shakes uncertainly. Maybe they only stop in front of you, Hof closer while Jeb's a few steps further. Maybe there's a pause of you staring down at him motionlessly, not making any move to swipe at him or sink your teeth into him mercilessly. Maybe he's wrapping his arms around your neck, pulling you close as best as he can with the height difference as he winces some little 'I missed you,' through the beginnings of tears. Maybe you're frozen in confusion and shock as Jeb walks over to join the two of you, one arm around Hoff while the other hand rests on your arm in an attempt to mirror the action. Maybe there's a choked sound leaving your throat as you nuzzle into them, carefully pulling them closer with your own arms wrapped loosely around the two of them.