#his statement left a lot to be desired honestly

[dorkboy]

I'm gonna say one more thing about the Irish gentleman and his public statement and then I'm gonna leave it be.

I've seen a lot of people who were upset at his statement, saying that it was too soft and that his previous statements were much better. People saying that they'd prefer that he not say anything if he was going to fence sit. He's Irish for fucks' sake, and someone who grew up during The Troubles (albeit the end of them). People saying that it was him bowing to pressure so that he remain in consideration for a Grammy that he's up for. Et cetera.

I don't know if I agree with some of those statements, but I do agree that it could have been more strongly worded. More clear on his condemnation of the attrocities being carried out against the people of Gaza.

Some people have noted that it was likely also a matter of safety, given what happened to the Hadid family over their support (they've received death threats), that he has the safety of his band and his crew to keep in mind. That he's on tour in a country that is actively supporting the attrocity and his statement was worded so as to not be on the receiving end of hostilities by the government. I can honestly buy that one. I don't know if it's genuinely something he said, or if I'm misremembering, but I believe he mentioned that he didn't join BLM protests because he was afraid that he'd get deported and barred entry to the US if he had.

I'll say, like I did before, that I'm disappointed. I had hoped that he would come out with a stronger statement. One that lives up to the politics that he uplifts in his music.

Look, at the end of the day, none of us know this man. We may be fans of his music and support a lot of the statements he makes, but we don't know him. We like to think we know where he stands on certain things, but unless he comes out and publicly states them, we know nothing. I want to believe his heart is in the right place. I want to believe that his statement was flat because it had to be. But, at the end of the day, we as a society need to stop placing celebrities on such pedestals and raising them up to be these paragons of virtue. They're human.

That's all.

OH - and I think it goes without saying, but I'm gonna say it anyway, I support a free Palestine. Today, tomorrow, and always.

[solar-wing]

⚣ Love's Punishment 🏛️

⚣🏛️ A/N → If y'all knew how many times I deleted and restarted this entire thing... I don't even remember how I got this idea, I just remember wanting to write an obsession/love spell fic where some male superheroes go batshit crazy & horny over the reader. Either way, hope you all enjoy it. WARNINGS: 18+ MDNI | OMEGAVERSE | Canon-Typical Violence | Alpha Barry Allen/Flash | Alpha Hal Jordan/Green Lantern | Alpha Clark Kent/Superman | Demigod-Omega Male Reader | Obsessive Behavior/Actions | Attempted Non-Con | Dub-Con | Oral Play | Knotting | Bonding Marks | Sneaky & Meddlesome Gods & Goddesses |

Prompts Used: @rednsuch – #39 “Just the smell of you gets me excited, darling.” – #13 “Stop being such a brat.”

⚣🏛️ Summary → One may ask what it's like having a God or Goddess for a parent. Honestly, not fun, and Y/N is a perfect example of that considering how he's being punished by his mother. How do you even bring up this level of mommy issues in therapy?

⚣🏛️ Word Count → 6.2K

REBLOGS and replies are greatly appreciated, please! 💛

⚣ ENJOY 🏛️

Daddy issues this, and Daddy issues that.

What about the people who have mommy issues? Because they exist, and Y/N would be shocked if anyone else’s relationship challenges with their mother were similar to his own.

Truthfully, he would never understand or believe the idea that someone could have sex and procreate with a god or goddess and not have one clue. There was no divine light following behind them? No wisps of magic or sparkles. No flowers and bright auras left in their footpaths?

Nothing, not a single clue?

Bullshit.

You may ask yourself, “Y/N, whatever could be wrong with someone having adult fun and having children with a god or goddess?”

Lots of things, actually. There could be an encyclopedia on why that could be a bad idea with lots of consequences to follow. Too many to get into right at this moment considering he was busy trying to cover his head and face from getting blasted while hanging off a superhero’s shoulders like a sack of potatoes.

Getting punished by a god or goddess was not for the weak.

No kid liked getting in trouble and punished by their parents. It was a very unpleasant and frustrating feeling when you had to answer for something you either 100% did without thinking of the circumstances, or something that happened and you were the victim of said circumstances.

But imagine getting punished by your God or Goddess parent for something that you had no control over. Even more, something said parent was directly responsible for!

The hypocrisy of it all.

Y/N’s father was a handsome man. Their genes were always divinely blessed, the Alpha always liked to joke, and the young Omega didn’t realize the irony of that statement until he got older and started questioning things.

Whenever he thought about changing his appearance or switching something up, it happened immediately without any action or movement from him. At one point during some teenage life crisis, he wanted to go blonde but didn’t even need to purchase dye. One moment he’s looking at his natural hair color and looks down to grab his comb. Next thing he knows, he’s got a full head of blond hair in the exact style he imagined. And it looked goood.

There was another time when he wished in his head that the sweater he was eyeing while shopping was gray instead of red, but according to the store, they never produced that particular color. When he went to go look at other options, imagine his surprise when he turned back two minutes later and it seemed as if the store did indeed have gray. And from a closer look, they only had gray. Starting to see the point?

Y/N could read people like a book, especially pertaining to feelings of affection, desire, and jealousy. Imagine the ability to feel someone’s very adult-like feelings, and you hadn’t even hit puberty yet. His dad had to have the birds and the bees talk with him much earlier than planned.

One of the most concerning things was Y/N's naturally attractive aura and charming voice. Though, he couldn’t tell if it was his voice or just the words he spoke that were attractive. But, people seemed to flock to him like moths to a flame. Even at a young age, many fought for his attention, whether it was classmates, friends, family, or strangers he’d run into when out with his dad.

It was normal for an Omega to be highly desired and sought after by Alphas, but it wasn’t just them fighting for his attention. Y/N had Betas and Omegas alike competing with each other for the chance to get acquainted with him.

By the time he entered high school, on record, he had up to four secret admirers (and two stalkers), and when things only seemed to get more out of control, that’s when his dad finally decided to sit him down and explain the truth to him.

“So, yeah. Probably should have told you this when you were younger, but your mom’s Aphrodite.”

…

Not joking, he 100% said it just like that.

Of course, you can imagine the Omega’s confusion and somewhat anger that this information had been withheld for most of his life. Now, not only did Y/N have to deal with the everyday struggles of life and being an Omega, but he also had to balance being the demigod son to the Goddess of Beauty, Love, and Desire. When you think about it, it made the Omega thing 10x more stressful than it already was.

This was the type of shit people wrote and fantasized about.

Wait a sec…

…

Nah.

Now, back to the beginning, since we have some more context, what was this so-called punishment, and why did it have Y/N grumbling about mommy issues while being whisked around the nation’s capital as some superheroes had it out with each other over who got to claim his body affection?

Oh, nothing serious, really. Just mommy dearest trying to interfere with her son’s love life! Who knew the immortal parents were privy to the same, petty tactics as their mortal counterparts…

Unlike most others who would be excited at the thought of being the child of Aphrodite, Y/N felt he had an unfair advantage when it came to dating and relationships, given his semi-godly abilities and gifts. After his last relationship ended in a horror show with a sequel he promised would never see production, he swore off dating and romance for good.

Well, that didn’t fly too well with Aphrodite. Her children, full-blood and half-blood, were always known for their romantic escapades. One of them was the face of Valentine’s Day! Well, his cousin from Rome was, at least.

So, with the help of her son and Y/N’s half-brother, Eros, God of Love, Lust, and Sex, (the mentioned Greek cousin to Cupid) they set up a little divine punishment for the young Demigod to teach him a lesson for rejecting his goldy heritage. It also paid off as insurance, just in case.

Deities and their children were always known to be stubborn little beings.

Aphrodite sent Eros down to Earth to follow his half-blood sibling around, observing his actions and who he interacted with. And, for any male Alpha that the Omega came in contact with, the God of Lust was to ensure a connection was established between the two if he deemed them worthy enough.

Simply put, he was to shoot male Alpha he figured his mother would approve as a match for her son/his brother in the ass with a love arrow. Now, why she told him to shoot only male Alphas and not female, you’d have to ask her.

Mother knows best.

Unlucky for Y/N, they chose one of the worst days to do that when he happened to be in Washington, D.C. for a work-related trip.

Do you know what else is in Washington, D.C.? The Justice League headquarters.

But, why would that be a problem? Do you really need an explanation?

Imagine how interesting it would be if, at the same time Y/N happened to be in Washington, D.C., one of the famous Justice League heroes like Flash, Green Lantern, or Superman happened to be there as well. Picture how tempting of an opportunity it would be for Eros after he was told to find the best potential matches for his little brother.

Pretty damn tempting if you ask anyone else.

Now, if we’re being truthful, Superman was Eros’ ideal choice for his brother, knowing their mother would definitely approve of the relationship between her son and the Kryptonian. Even if he wasn’t an Alpha due to his alien biology, he still had all the ideal traits of one. Not to mention his strong features and handsome looks.

But, he wasn’t opposed to one of the other heroes like Flash or Green Lantern. And when the latter had been the one to save Y/N during some random battle that broke out between the League and some villains, he figured why not just shoot them all and see who came out on top?

Plus, he was the God of Sex just as much as he was of Love. He wanted to see who out of the three heroes had the sexual prowess to handle someone like his brother. Prude or not, being mated to a child of Aphrodite meant you had to be strong in a lot of ways, especially when it came down to the nitty and gritty.

And who said he couldn’t get a little entertainment out of this?

That entertainment is what led Y/N to his situation of being carried throughout the city like some prize while the world’s defenders fought with each other like kids trying to get the last cookie in the jar.

As said, it started with Green Lantern rescuing him and carrying him away to some random rooftop. Everything seemed normal until Y/N noticed a change in the hero and his sudden lustful gazes that were being directed at him. He'd been on the receiving end of a fair amount of adoration and attention by admiring and persistent Alphas, but this he could tell was something different.

And it was.

Eros had shot Green Lantern with the love arrow while they were still in the sky. Now, instead of thinking about the fight he was leaving his comrades to handle by themselves without his assistance, all his thoughts were centered around the Omega in his arms and how blessed he was to be in the presence of such a radiant being.

And how much he couldn't wait to claim his body all for himself. Besides, no one was more fitting or deserving of an Omega of Y/N's stature than the Green Lantern himself. At least, that's what his love-delusioned, and frankly, naturally egotistical mind believed.

Y/N didn't have time to even question what was going on before the green-clad hero had whisked him away to a rooftop, not too far from where the fight was happening. He figured it was over after that and the Alpha would return to his comrades after setting him down.

Imagine the Omega's shock when he found himself pressed against a wall, the hero kissing and nuzzling his neck while running his hands down his body.

"W-What are you doing?" Y/N stuttered out, trying to push the man away but to no avail.

"What does it look like? I'm saving you," The hero's voice was gruff and desperate, and the Omega was starting to get concerned.

"Okay, but this is less saving and more of molesting," Y/N struggled, having his arms pinned against the wall before feeling a hand running down his body towards his pants.

"I'm saving you from other Alphas trying to claim you. After this, you'll belong to me, and me only," Lantern growled gruffly in his ear, an aggressiveness that was all too familiar to the Omega. He'd seen this behavior before but didn't have much time to think about it as the hero started unbuttoning his pants.

"W-Wait! Stop!"

"No, I can't," Lantern shook his head, his eyes glazed over.

"You're under a spell or something!" Y/N tried again, but his words fell on deaf ears.

"I can't stop myself. I need you now," The hero growled, finally pulling the Omega's pants and underwear down before undoing his own and pulling out his throbbing, hard cock.

"No! Stop! You don't want to do this!"

"Stop being such a brat. I need to do this," Lantern's voice was firm and demanding.

Before the green-clad hero could achieve his objective, he was suddenly yanked off the Omega by a red and yellow blur, electricity crackling off it. The Omega after realizing he was free wasted no time in pulling his underwear and pants back up, watching as the blur, now recognized to be Flash, was currently fighting with Green Lantern near the edge of the rooftop.

"What are you doing, man?!" Flash yelled, trying to restrain the other hero.

"Let go of me, I need to save him!" Lantern growled, fighting the speedster's hold.

"From what?" Flash questioned, looking at the Omega confused.

"He's mine!"

"He's not yours!"

"Yes, he is!"

"GL, you need to get a grip."

"He's my Omega! I need to mark him!"

From his position, Y/N could see Flash was struggling to hold the other Alpha down and figured he should probably make his exit right about now. He made his way over to the fire escape, about to climb over until a figure floated up from below.

Superman, ever in his large and slightly intimidating form with his cape blowing in the wind looked down at the Omega with a smile, offering his hand, "Need some help?"

The Omega smiled with a soft blush, trying to quell his nerves at the Alpha's admittedly very handsome and chiseled face. Again, the Omega was no prude, nor was he oblivious to all the gossip and rumors of the world's protectors and their handsome and muscular figures. The latter was made even more prominent by the tight nature of their uniforms.

Y/N would be lying if he said he wasn't looking at Flash's prominent glutes hidden under the red spandex.

But, before the Omega took the Kryptonian's equally large hand, he noticed something in the background. The fight that initially led to this whole mess was still going on. Yet, three of the main superheroes involved in that fight were over here. Flash, he threw to the back of his mind since the speedster did technically save him. But, why was Superman here?

That's when Y/N noticed something in the Kryptonian hero's eyes. An expression almost identical to the one he just saw in Green Lantern.

Uh oh.

Before the Omega could even react, the Alpha had already scooped him up into his arms and flew off into the sky.

"H-Hey! Put me down!" Y/N stuttered, struggling in the Alpha's hold.

"I can't. I need to save you," Superman's voice was low and deep, and the Omega could feel the vibrations from his chest.

Hmm, where had he heard that before?

"Save me from what?"

"Other Alphas trying to claim you," The Kryptonian explained, and Y/N could have sworn he heard a growl in his voice.

A nervous feeling settled into his stomach, and if he wasn't careful, he'd find himself falling prey and submissive to the very situation he was trying to find a way out of. Being Aphrodite's son as mentioned before, he had an extraordinary gift with the power of emotions and desires. He could project his feelings of desire and love onto others, just as much as he could mirror them.

Another one of those aforementioned consequences of deities breeding with mortals.

The only thing Y/N struggled to figure out though was why all of this was happening. He'd never had a run-in with any of these heroes before, and the only time he'd seen behavior like this was when it was related to his...

...Of course.

His mother.

Now, everything was starting to make sense. This could only be the work of mommy dearest, and if Y/N had to guess, his half-brother Eros as well.

He'd have to deal with that problem later, though. Right now, he needed to focus on the task at hand, and that was escaping the arms of a very powerful, very strong, and very horny superhero.

"You're mine. I'll protect you from the others," Superman continued, and Y/N could feel a slight rumble in the Alpha's chest.

"I'm not yours," The Omega shook his head, continuing to struggle.

"Yes, you are. You're mine," The Kryptonian's grip tightened, and the Omega winced at the pain.

Y/N looked down and quickly rid himself of any thoughts that he could survive a fall from this height. Even if he was Aphrodite's son, he lacked something vitally important that his mother and brother both possessed. Immortality.

Hopefully, he could figure another way out of this.

He knew there was no reasoning with the Alpha. As long as he was under Eros' spell, no amount of logic or reasoning would get through to him. As cliché as it may sound, Y/N needed a divine intervention.

Thankfully, it seemed as if one was on the way.

Trails of green energy suddenly surrounded the pair, forming a giant floating cage. Superman turned to see his comrade, having escaped from Flash's grasp flying toward them.

"Get away from him!" Green Lantern yelled, flying towards the duo.

"No! He belongs to me. You have no right to him Lantern," Superman shouted back, clutching the Omega closer.

"You're not even a real Alpha, Clark! You're not even strong enough to make an Omega like him submit to you."

"What did you just say?!"

"You heard me, you fake-ass Alpha. I'm the only one worthy enough for him. Not some alien trash!"

"Why, you-"

Before the two could continue their argument, a vortex suddenly surrounded the two, causing Lantern to lose his focus. The energy cage surrounding the Kryptonian and Omega dissipated and the force from the vortex sent the two heroes to lose their flying. Superman tried his best to stay in the air, but the sudden force was too much and caused him to crash into a nearby building while Lantern crashed into a dumpster.

The Kryptonian managed to shield the Omega from the damage and brunt of their fall by wrapping him in his body. When Y/N realized they weren't falling anymore and had come to a complete stop, he peeked from the Alpha's hold, just in time to see the return of a certain Speedster who must have run up the side of the building to where they were now.

"Are you guys alright?" Flash asked, his eyes landing on the Omega in Superman's arms.

"I'm fine," Y/N nodded, and Flash sighed in relief.

"A vortex, Flash? Really?" Superman questioned with a raised eyebrow, still holding the Omega to his body.

"It was the quickest way to get you two out of the air without hurting anyone," Flash defended, crossing his arms.

"By throwing us into a building?"

"Better than the ground."

"You could have gotten him killed!"

"You were the one holding him!"

"Guys, I'm fine. I promise," Y/N interrupted, and the two Alphas turned to him.

"See, he's fine. Let's get back to the fight," Flash suggested, turning to leave.

"No, not until he's mine," Superman shook his head, and the Omega groaned. He stood up from the ground, letting the Omega stand on his own feet, but keeping an arm wrapped body to prevent him from running off.

"Not this again," Flash sighed, turning back, "You can't claim him."

"And why not?"

"Because he's mine," Lantern's voice suddenly joined the conversation, and the three turned to see the hero, seemingly recovered from his fall, walking towards them.

"No, he's mine!" Superman shouted, his eyes suddenly glowing red as he pointed them at the green-clad hero.

"Clark, no!" Flash shouted, holding his arms up in an attempt to stop the Kryptonian.

"No, he's mine. He's mine. He's mine!" The Kryptonian yelled, his eyes getting brighter.

"Clark, you're gonna kill him!"

"I don't care, Barry. No one is taking my Omega from me."

"He's not yours to claim," Lantern shouted back.

While this was all happening, everyone was oblivious to the new presence that had joined him. Only, none of the heroes could see him. Only Y/N could, and that was a very big problem.

"Eros..." Y/N muttered under his breath, narrowing his gaze at his half-brother who held a mischievous grin on his face while positioning himself slowly behind the speedster.

When Y/N realized what he was doing, he struggled in the Kryptonian's grip, "Eros, no!"

But, it was too late. The deity had taken his shot at the Flash, hitting him perfectly square in the back. The speedster flinched at the impact, turning to look around but finding nothing there, at least, nothing his sight could see. But, when he turned his gaze back around and they fell on the Omega still trapped in Superman's hands, an identical glaze to match the one in the other heroes fell over his eyes. One the half-blood was all too familiar with.

"Oh fuck..." Y/N muttered under his breath.

"Mine," Flash growled, his eyes trained on the Omega.

Before either of the two other heroes could react, Flash sped forward and landed a bunch of fast punches and blows on the Kryptonian, causing him to lose his grip on the Omega.

"Flash, what are you doing?" Lantern yelled at his comrade.

"Taking what's mine," The speedster responded, a charming but crazed look in his expression.

He grabbed Y/N and threw him over his shoulder, the Omega flailing in his grip while also trying to hold on tight as the speedster sped around the space, avoiding attacks from both Green Lantern and Superman at the same time.

"He's not yours, Barry!" Superman shouted, his heat vision shooting at the speedster who avoided it with ease.

"Yes, he is! He's mine!" The speedster yelled, clutching the Omega tighter.

"No, he's mine," Lantern yelled back, sending a giant fist toward the speedster who avoided it in a blur.

"No, he's mine!" Superman yelled, sending his heat vision at Lantern who in turn blocked it with a shield.

"No, he's mine!" The two shouted together, and the fight resumed.

Y/N, still trapped in the speedster's arms, watched helplessly as the Kryptonian and Lantern focused their attacks on each other, feeling a pat on his ass from the speedster who tightened the grip he had around his legs.

"Don't worry about them, beautiful. They're not worthy enough to have you. I am. You'll be mine, and I'll protect you from the others," Flash's voice was husky, and the Omega could feel his heart pounding against his chest.

"You're under a spell, Flash. You don't want to do this," Y/N tried to reason, but the speedster just laughed.

"Oh, but I do. I didn't know what actual life was until just a few minutes ago when I gazed upon you. and now that I have you, I can finally make you mine," Flash smirked, and the Omega gulped.

Flash sped out of the building with the Omega over his shoulder still, the two other Alphas only noticing their disappearance after they were already a mile down the street.

"Shit, where did he take him?" Lantern asked, looking around.

"I don't know," Superman answered, "But we'll find him. And when we do, you'll be the one who has to step aside."

"Like hell, I will!"

While those two continued to bicker, Flash ran himself and the Omega all the way back to Central City. Y/N was amazed at how he didn't pass out from the speed and movement, but he was grateful he didn't. Also, having superspeed may have made it a bit easier.

Just a guess.

When they finally came to a stop, the Omega was set down on his feet, and he looked around to see they were in some bedroom.

"Where are we?" Y/N asked, trying to keep his composure.

"My bedroom," Flash answered, his eyes still glazed over.

"Oh," Y/N nodded, a nervous feeling in his stomach.

"Don't worry, you're safe here," The speedster walked towards him, and the Omega backed away, "I'm not gonna hurt you."

"You say that, but your eyes say otherwise," Y/N responded, continuing to back away until he hit the wall.

"I know. But, I can't help it. I need to have you," Flash smirked, and the Omega felt his arousal getting excited in his pants.

"I'm not yours to have," Y/N shook his head, his heart pounding.

"Yes, you are," Flash's voice was firm, and the Omega felt his resolve fading.

"I-I'm not," Y/N stuttered, his knees getting weak.

"Yes, you are," The speedster was in front of him, and Y/N could feel his breath on his skin.

"I'm not," Y/N shook his head, but his voice was barely a whisper.

"You are," Flash whispered, his face close to the Omega's.

The very thing Y/N was concerned about happening when he was trapped with Superman earlier began to manifest, much to his fear. His divine abilities were reacting to his body's 'chemistry spikes' and now, he was beginning to mirror the Alpha's current feelings toward him, including the obsessive ones, which were now clouding his judgment.

"I'm not," Y/N shook his head, his breathing getting labored.

"You are," Flash whispered, his lips getting closer to the Omega's.

"I'm not," Y/N stuttered, his body giving in.

"You are," Flash whispered, pressing his lips to the Omega's.

"I'm not," Y/N muttered against his lips.

"You are," Flash said firmly, pulling the Omega's body closer to him.

In a move Y/N thought was him going to push against the Alpha in an attempt to resist his seductions, he actually was running his hands up and down the spandex-covered muscles. His legs were spread open by the speedster as he hoisted him up, wrapping them around his waist while pressing him to the wall, kissing him even harder while undressing his clothes.

"You're mine, Y/N," The speedster whispered, his lips trailing down the Omega's neck, "All mine."

"I'm yours, Barry," Y/N panted, his body flushed. Y/N remembered hearing Superman call the speedster by that, figuring it must have been either his civilian name or a codename they had. Either way, he could see from the delighted expression across the Flash's face and his blue eyes through the slits of his mask that he was very pleased by it.

"Say it again."

"I'm yours, Barry. I'm yours."

"That's right, beautiful. You're mine, and I'm yours. You'll never have to worry about other Alphas again, because I'll protect you from them."

The sun's light cascaded through the open windows in the bedroom as the two continued frotting against each other against the wall. Barry trailed his kisses from Y/N's lips down to his neck and eventually to his naked chest, before sucking on his wet nipples while the Omega through his head back in pleasure, the Alpha looking up at him with his blue eyes before taking his lips away from the leaking nubs.

"Do you like that, darling?" Barry asked, and the Omega nodded, his eyes glazed over, "Are you ready for more?"

"Y-Yes, Alpha," Y/N nodded, his breath labored.

"Good boy," Barry whispered, his voice husky and deep. He kissed the Omega one last time on the lips before pulling him away from the wall, carrying him bridal style to the bed.

Barry laid the Omega down, the latter spreading his legs open in submission and invitation, and the former smirked, climbing on top of the bed. Barry pressed kisses to the side of the Omega's neck again, right over his scent gland before taking a big sniff.

"Just the smell of you gets me excited, darling."

Barry's hands roamed the Omega's upper naked body, feeling the smooth and soft skin while trailing his fingers down his sides and to his hips. Y/N gasped, his hands gripping the sheets as the speedster's fingers teased the inside of his thighs.

"I love the way your skin feels, and the way your body reacts to me," Barry whispered, his nose pressing into the Omega's scent gland.

"Barry," Y/N moaned, his body arching off the bed.

"Say it again," Barry growled, his hands squeezing the Omega's hips.

"Barry," Y/N moaned, his eyes closed.

"That's right, baby. I'm Barry, and you're mine," Barry whispered, his fingers moving up the Omega's inner thighs.

"I'm yours," Y/N nodded, his legs spreading open even wider.

However, before Barry could move to remove the Y/N’s pants, the Omega whined at him, tugging on the spandex of his suit and mask with his hands causing a cheesing smile to appear across the Alpha's face.

"Aw, you want to see me out of my suit, don't you, darling?" Barry asked, and the Omega nodded frantically.

"Yes, Alpha. Please."

"Good boy," Barry praised, and the Omega whimpered.

He quickly removed his gloves and masks, tossing them aside before unzipping the top of his suit and pulling it off, revealing his sculpted and muscled chest. Y/N's eyes widened in delight and appreciation at the sight, reaching his hands out to touch the smooth and pale skin.

The Omega moaned happily at the sight, running his hands down the hard pecs and abs while leaning up to press his own kisses against the skin. Barry shuddered above him from the move while resuming his earlier actions of removing the offending pants and underwear that were hiding his prize from his sight.

Tossing the pants aside, he leaned up and took in the sight of the fully naked Omega, writhing on his sheets and whining for him, feeling his own throbbing hard erection under his suit pants.

"Look at you, darling. So beautiful, and all mine," Barry ran his hands down the Omega's sides, creating a tickling feeling that had the smaller male giggling, "I can't wait to claim your body, all for me," he growled, voice husky with want.

Barry kissed his way down the Omega's chest, taking a moment to bite and lick at the leaking nubs again before gripping his thighs and spreading them open. He positioned his head between the open legs while staring at the tight, slick-producing hole in front of him. He lapped his tongue to gather of taste of it on his tongue, Y/N flinching violently at the sensation while calling out the Alpha's name.

"Delicious," Barry muttered, before diving in on the wet treat in front of him.

"Oh fuck," Y/N moaned, his hands gripping the bed sheets tightly.

Barry's tongue lapped at the dripping slick, his hands gripping the Omega's thighs tight and pushing them open even further to gain better access. Y/N moaned, his back arching off the bed while the Alpha's tongue entered his hole, tasting him from the inside.

"Barry, please. Please, I need it. Please," Y/N begged, his body shaking with arousal and want.

Barry didn't listen to him though, he kept feasting on the Omega's arousal while using his speed to vibrate his tongue inside him, causing the Omega to moan even louder, his body shaking with pleasure.

"Barry, please! a-ah, fuck ... !" Y/N cried, his body shaking even more.

"What do you need, baby? Tell me," Barry asked, pulling his tongue out and looking at the Omega with a smirk.

"I-I need you... Please, please," Y/N begged, and the Alpha smiled.

"You want me, baby?"

"Yes, Alpha. Please, I need you. Please."

"Well, since you asked so nicely."

The Alpha discarded the rest of his suit and underwear, his throbbing erection springing free, causing the Omega to lick his lips at the sight. Barry chuckled at his reaction while pulling him down the bed and picking him up in his arms, wrapping the smaller male's legs around him and pressing him against the wall.

Barry played with his cock against the Y/N's wet heat, enjoying the pleasurable reactions that ran across the Omega's face. "Who's your Alpha?" He asked with another playful smack of his mushroom head against the hot and throbbing entrance.

"Y-You, Alpha," Y/N panted, his face red and eyes glazed over.

"That's right, baby. I'm your Alpha," Barry whispered before he slowly slid inside the Omega.

"Fuck!" Y/N yelled, his head leaning back against the wall.

"So tight and warm. It's like you were made just for me, baby," Barry moaned, his cock pushing all the way in until his balls were pressed against the Omega's ass.

Y/N dug his nails into the skin of Barry's shoulders while the Alpha pressed him harder against the wall, his hips rapidly moving back and forth as he fucked him hard. The speedster's hips and legs were already dripping with more and more of the Omega's arousal as it dripped into his carpet, creating more of a mess the harder he thrust in and out of the hole.

"h-harder ... p-please, harder ..." Y/N moaned, his eyes closed while Barry sucked on his neck.

"So beautiful," Barry growled, his hands gripping the Omega's ass cheeks while thrusting harder, "Such a good little Omega, taking my cock so well."

"Barry! Barry!" Y/N moaned, his legs wrapped tighter around the Alpha's waist.

"Say it again," Barry growled, his hips moving faster.

"Barry!" Y/N moaned, his back arching.

Suddenly, Barry got the bright idea to add his speed to it, making his hips move at a pace that would be deemed impossible for any regular human. Good thing he wasn't a regular human. However, the increase in speed had Y/N shouting at the top of his lungs, tears springing to his eyes as he pounded his fists against the Alpha's hard, mildly sweaty chest.

Meanwhile, Y/N was a soaking mess. The shine from the sweat all around his body was highlighted by the sun's fading rays and the increasingly bright glow from the streetlights outside the window. Combined with the sticky fluid still leaking from his chest and the slick that was all but splashing between the Alpha and Omega.

"That's it, baby. Take my cock. Take it all," Barry growled, his hips moving faster.

"Barry, I-I'm gonna... I'm gonna cum," Y/N cried, his legs shaking.

"Do it. Cum for me, baby," Barry commanded, and the Omega followed.

"Fuck!" Y/N screamed, his back arching and his eyes rolling back into his head as he came between the two, digging nails into Barry's sweaty back as his release overwhelmed him.

"That's a good Omega," Barry said, before slipping out of the smaller male, carrying him over to the bed and propping him up on all fours.

He gripped the Omega's hips, sliding back inside him and fucking him at a rapid pace, his hips slapping against the plump ass cheeks. Y/N's eyes rolled back into his head as he cried out, his body shaking with pleasure while the Alpha fucked him.

"That's it, baby. Take it," Barry growled, his grip tightening on the Omega's hips.

"p-please, I can't... FUCK! I can't take anymore... !" Y/N cried, his body shaking as the Alpha started using his powers again to increase his speed.

"You can, and you will," Barry growled, his hips moving even faster.

"Barry, please! Fuck, I'm gonna... !"

"Do it. Cum for me, baby. Cum for your Alpha," Barry growled.

"mm ... mmh ... ! O-OHH, FUCK ... !" Y/N shouted, his back arching and his eyes rolling back into his head as he came, his legs and body shaking from the overstimulation as the Alpha started to chase his own finish.

Barry's knot started to form at the base and slowly was inching closer and closer as the Alpha fucked the Omega who was beginning to softly cry from the amount of pleasure and pain he was experiencing. His hands weakly tried to push against the speedster's hips in an attempt to slow him down but were snatched together in a grip while feeling a painful smack against his ass.

"Don't try and fight it, baby. Just let me claim you. Just let me have you," Barry growled, throwing his head back in pleasure.

"Barry, I-I can't ... !" Y/N cried, his body shaking.

"Yes, you can. Just a little longer," Barry's hips started to stutter, and the Omega cried out, his legs shaking as he felt the Alpha's knot starting to press against his hole.

"Barry, please! PLEASE ... !" Y/N sobbed, his body convulsing on the inside from the overwhelming sensation.

"Just a little longer, baby. Just a little longer."

"I-I can't... Please, I can't ... !"

"Almost there, baby. Who's your Alpha?"

"Y-You... You are ... !"

"That's right, baby. I'm your Alpha. And, now I'm gonna make you mine. Forever."

With that, Barry pressed all the way inside, releasing his knot into the Omega with a loud groan as he leaned forward, catching himself on the bed as Y/N had his third orgasm against the sheets, suddenly feeling heavy and drained from the strenuous workout he just went through.

While the pair were both recovering, neither of them realized the small, matching marks that slowly appeared over their scent glands. They were now a fully mated pair, and the God of Love and Sex knew this as he peered in through the window, watching the sweaty individuals with satisfaction.

"Welp, my job's done. I'm sure Mother will be pleased with this outcome. Serves you right, brother. You should know better than to try and deny your heritage. Hope you learn well from this punishment."

With that, the deity disappeared, making his way home.

Meanwhile...

"That should be the last of them," Lantern said, flying through the air after he captured the last of the attacking minions.

"Good," Superman nodded, his eyes still glowing white as he scanned the area.

"What are you doing?" Lantern asked, looking at the Kryptonian confused.

"Looking for him."

"Who?"

"The Omega."

"Oh yeah, do you think Barry already claimed him?"

"Probably, but it doesn't matter. Cause he belongs to me, and I'm going to take him back, by whatever means necessary."

☀️ | Barry Allen/Flash | ☀️

☀️ | Masterlists | ☀️

[divine-donna]

body talk

seeing challengers was a mistake guys because all i can think about is challengers and how much i love challengers and how cinema is back after people declared the death of cinema like three years ago and how much i wanna go see challengers again—

anyways uhhhh did challengers make me hop onto the mike faist train? yes. because i love a man that clearly worships his wife and kisses boys.

character: art donaldson

for vibes: "physical" by olivia newton-john

context: stanford university. 2007.

if you had a choice, you wouldn't be working as a receptionist in the gym. instead, you'd work in the infirmary. it was more in line with your desire to pursue sports medicine.

your father himself was an athlete who sustained a career ending injury and went into sports medicine. you wanted to follow in his footsteps.

but for now, you were working as a receptionist at the gym for your federal work study. college wasn't going to pay for itself unfortunately and your parents could only provide so much support.

art donaldson recognized you while you guys were at a party. "you're the person at the desk in the gym!" he sounded so excited. almost like a puppy.

"yeah..." you look down at your red solo cup. "you're like a regular. with tashi duncan."

"you know her?"

"well, i've talked to her a few times. she's great." who wouldn't like her honestly? you weren't the biggest fan of tennis but whenever tashi duncan played, she always managed to make it magical.

"you're also in my bio class, right?"

"you're in my bio class?"

"oh don't tell me you didn't notice."

you shrug. "i didn't. you're not very...noticeable, i guess."

art took personal offense to that statement.

okay not entirely. because to some extent, you were right. he wasn't as noticeable as some of the other people in class, like the lacrosse player on the guys team or the girl from the basketball team, both of whom you seem to be close with.

growing closer to art was just a matter of being in a lot of classes together, something you didn't realize during the first month of college.

to be fair, it was a lot.

but the good thing about having a lot of classes with him was that it meant you always had a go to person for group projects. and god were professors adamant about assigning group work.

at the very least, you had a workout buddy when you guys were free. sometimes, you were even joined by tashi duncan. so it was cool to be able to work out with a famous tennis player.

perhaps the gym is where you started to notice art's...physicality.

he wasn't entirely imposing, aside from being quite tall. but he had a surprising amount of muscle. perhaps the tank tops he wore didn't help much. it left little to the imagination.

because of your familiarity with the body and your desire to go into sports medicine, art called you when he was feeling a bit sore.

he opens the door with a smile, seeing you with your bag and clementines. "what's the fruit for?"

"just in case you get hungry." you step in and remove your shoes. "just lay down."

"bed or floor?"

"whichever you prefer. the bed might be more comfy. we'd have to move stuff around if you were on the floor. oh and take off your shirt."

"what?" he could feel his cheeks beginning to heat up.

"take off your shirt. a massage won't be that effective with your shirt on."

"alright. umm..." art just does what you ask of him, taking his shirt off and setting it aside on his desk chair. he gets on the bed and lays down, front side down.

you pull out a bottle of lotion and crawl onto the bed, straddling him at his waist. you are unaware of how red he is feeling you against him.

you feel around his back for bit, asking him where in particular is tight. once you got a good idea, you squirt some lotion onto your hands, rub it a bit, then begin to massage.

art would be embarrassed from the sounds that came out of him. but he was craving for the relief from his overworked and tired muscles. he could feel just how deep your hands went in, twisting and rubbing. your hands felt so good. they glided smoothly and your touch soothed him greatly.

"damn dude. when was the last time you massaged yourself?"

"don't know." he mutters, burying his lower face into his own pillow. he could feel himself growing warmer all over his body.

your palm pressing into him, dragging itself through his muscles, rubbing baby lotion into his skin so he's soft.

your hand reaches a part of his lower back, your palm rubbing through the muscle. and he moans.

you stop for a moment. "something wrong?"

"no...nothing's wrong..." he mutters.

"you sure?"

"yes. keep going."

he enjoys the way your hands move lower, and lower. he wants them to sneak to the front. massage him a different way.

your hands linger on a particular spot of his back though, feeling the defined muscle. there's something particularly...satisfying, about running your hands over his body. you were tempted to feel more. especially his arms.

art's arms were utterly gorgeous, as if sculpted out of marble by a renaissance artist themselves.

"i think you're all good."

"all done already?" he smelled like baby lotion. whatever that mean.

"unless you want me to massage elsewhere." you get off of him and he turns on his side to look at you.

the tank top you were wearing was a little bit tight.

art gently grabs your wrist. "magical hands you know."

"it's beneficial to learn how to massage. for your own betterment and health. though i will happily help you with the spots you can't reach."

he rubs circles into your wrists. "are they tired?"

"a little. it was because i took an exam yesterday. writing in those blue booklets is absolute torture."

"that's fair." his eyes flicker up to yours. the room was warm, the atmosphere right. "do you...like my body?"

"it's nice. you're very beautiful." you smile.

art pulls you forward, your legs hitting the wooden bedframe of the shitty college provided furniture.

"do you want to feel it?"

you bite your lip. "i think i do."

[michanvalentine]

Things about Vincent Valentine that I read around and piss me off. Vol.2

"Vincent was too shy and passive. He is an idiot."

Usually in reference to his attitude towards Lucrecia after the breakup. As if he could somehow save his relationship with her (and thus prevent everything else). I say yes, perhaps he could have sought further clarification, but for me the situation has never been so simple and linear.

Ok, let's start from the beginning. First of all, Vincent is a sensitive and intelligent person, with an above-average education. A person who thinks a lot, even too much. So calling him an idiot, especially in such a context, is really having a superficial reading of the character. Honestly, this statement bothers me a lot even when it is extended to the other part: Lucrecia. But that's another story... Secondly, let's remember that the two had a real relationship. In DoC Vincent was never a sort of stalker fixated on Lucrecia despite the unrequited love, as he might have appeared in the OG (unless the remake wants to tell yet another story.) Even Hojo was aware of their love story, in fact when Lucrecia pronounces the fateful "Yes, doctor" he says: "So you've come to your senses and chosen me." And I don't think Hojo was exactly the type to care about gossip.

That said, I would add my interpretation on Vincent's "passivity". A while ago I read a comment, something like: Lucrecia went with Hojo to gauge how much Vincent cared about her, since she thought he hated her due to the Grimoire's death. So she was waiting for Vincent to react and take her away from Hojo, but Vincent was just too shy and passive to do something so outrageous. I couldn't help but respond to this comment like this: This would be a really sick way of demanding attention. In this case Lucrecia would be truly mentally ill and Vincent would simply be a sane person who behaves properly. I believe there are several biases in this regard. First and foremost, the old-fashioned concept of Prince Charming rescuing the damsel in distress. Which I hate. Secondly I don't think Lucrecia left Vincent because she thought he despised her for the Grimoire incident. Otherwise she wouldn't have needed to push him away, because in that case Vincent himself would have been the one to leave her. No, the reasons are different:

Feelings of guilt led her to think she couldn't be by his side. As if Vincent didn't deserve someone as bad as her in his life.

Every time she looked at Vincent, given the extreme similarity, she saw Grimoire again and remembered the event that had traumatized her.

Obviously Lucrecia didn't put Vincent to the test, she was determined to put as much distance as possible between her and Vincent because she felt it was right for him and too painful for her to continue. Stop. The relationship with Hojo is an addition, but also desired for other reasons. She neither expected nor wanted to be saved. Not to mention that Vincent is not Lucrecia's father and had neither the responsibility nor the duty to do so. She is an adult. Certainly, by breaking off their relationship, Lucrecia has also made a decision for Vincent. He didn't object, he passively accepted and stepped aside. But are we sure he could have done otherwise? Are we sure he could change Lucrecia's mind? How exactly? Young Vincent was naive and introverted, but Vincent's passivity in this case was also determined by other factors. Maybe he could have made his feelings about Grimoire's death and about Lucrecia more clear. But at the same time I think it wasn't necessary, because they were obvious. It's Lucrecia who no longer knows what her true feelings are. And she will only be able to clarify them for herself later, in fact at the end of DoC she will confess to Vincent: "I finally realized my true feelings. Even if you may never understand them".

But let's analyze the facts and see how they unfolded. Given the above, at first Lucrecia was so focused on herself due to guilt that she was numb to everything else. Even to Vincent. In DoC, when Vincent discovers the file on Grimoire, Lucrecia yells at him to "stop it". She doesn't want to listen and at the same time she doesn't give him a chance to express himself. Likewise, after apologizing to him, she ran away without giving him a chance to reply. And let's remember that out of the blue he was left by the love of his life for no valid reason, at least from his point of view. Not to mention that Grimoire's death must have been painful for him too. Reacting is not easy when you are confused, grieving and heartbroken. From that moment on, Vincent Valentine was completely cut out of Lucrecia's life. Lucrecia keeps him at a distance, due to points 1 and 2 above, and as a final barrier she puts Hojo in the middle (of course, the scientist is there too for other reasons). In the scene around the table, when Vincent asks her "if she's sure", Hojo really seems like a wall between the two that still prevents direct confrontation. And Lucrecia appears clearly angry that he has come forward with objections. At the Shinra Mansion Vincent Valentine seems to have no say in anything. Lucrecia doesn't give him the chance to argue, Hojo first rudely silences him because he's just a Turk and then definitively closes his mouth with a bullet. But even if silenced, Vincent's feelings and intentions remain evident. Even Hojo knew them, in fact when he discovers that Lucrecia is experimenting on Vincent's body he says: "How happy this fellow must be. Helping his beloved even after he's begun rotting away." Lucrecia herself, through her data, at a certain point in DoC will say: "I pushed you away, but… now I realize, I never wanted to lose you." And again later: "I made so many mistakes. And I hurt you so, so much. Why did I do what I did?" Deep down Lucrecia knew she had pushed him away for her own personal reasons, and not because he despised her or anything. She knew she had made a mistake, of having been blinded by fear and guilt, that she had mortified his feelings and that she had made him suffer for it, especially because the breakup had been practically forced on him. So I repeat: should he continue to chase Lucrecia, proclaiming his love like a crazy in the hope of changing her mind? Let's pretend he had the opportunity (always excluding kidnappings or ambushes). He could have to, yes, but in addition to reiterating the obvious and saying things already known even to the person concerned (after all, if there is something imperishable, capable of overcoming pain, time and even death, it is the love that Vincent Valentine feels for Lucrecia), she probably wouldn't have listened to him anyway. Because, as Vincent would say, "she was always like that, only believing what she wanted to."

[mysticalsoot]

a very godbur christmas

a godbur smut fic with so much fluff

➸ note; happy birthday to me and happy Christmas event kick off to you all, have your first smut fic from me, don't expect another for a good while! it literally took me like five months to write the actual sex part but merely less than a day to write the aftercare- also thank you to my darling sister for reading it every time i forced asked her to bc i needed an outside opinion

➸ pairing; godbur x afab!reader (no pronouns or gendered terms aside from anatomy is used!)

➸ summary; you make a request during one of your long stint stays, only to be met with two more gifts you didn't see coming. sweet sex with darling godbur !

➸ warning; afab anatomy is mentioned, like pretty blunty at that- size kink, daddy kink, soft top wil, a bit of degradation but honestly wil can't do that for long, p in v, penetration, kissing, really soft aftercare, praise, subspace if you squint, non sexual use of daddy after the fact. excessive pet names (puppy, bunny, honey, hun, pup, baby, sweetheart, sweetie, darling, love, love bug), use of slut and whore (the brief degradation). observations of will being a lanky, giant of a man (nonsexual context then)

➸ age-rating; 18+

➸ wordcount; 4.5k

main masterlist // godbur masterlist

MINORS DNI!! please do not read if you're under 18 and if you do, that's your fault, not mine.

you'd be spending a lot of time with wilbur lately, staying longer and longer each stay. being held by him, having quiet domestic moments with him. not to mention getting ready for christmas, decorating and baking and filling him in on each and every tradition. you knew you'd have to go soon, be sent back to mortality. this never lasted long. you both knew it, despite your deep growing hatred for the fact.

after you told him of the gift giving tradition, he'd been asking what you wanted for christmas, what he could give you. despite the fact he would without a doubt give you way more than you asked for.

you turn over to face him, a hand on his chest as you look down at him, "I know what I want," your statement was straight forward but the god before you still gave you a look of question.

"what? eternal life here? I told you, love, you can't-" you cut him off with a quick and open mouthed kiss to his lips and he gasped softly before settling into it. his hands which you noted were soft and rough at the same time, perfectly shaped-

"no, I know I can't break you on that," you pause, sitting back on your knees beside him on the bed. you had your eyes angled down on his, both of your gazes were filled with lust. you didn't need to say it, you were both thinking it, "I want my visits worth while," you didn't elaborate, you simply left it there and everything was understood.

your lovely god smirked, he smirked with such conviction and teasing that you couldn't tell if it annoyed you or made you feel giddy inside. you were so unsure. he grabbed your hips with his hands, and pushed you to lay on your back as he rolled his body on top of yours.

"oh darling, I'll make it all worth while," he spoke lowly, a sort of desire and desperation braided into his voice. his words came out as almost a growl or sorts, but fuck, it only made the fire spread and build inside you. you wanted him. badly.

"don't hesitate then," you smirked and just as your words finished leaving your lips, he dove down to take them into a bruising kiss. lips melded together in a deep exchange, teeth pulling them and nipping and you swore he nearly drew blood. he kissed you with such haste and need, you weren't sure if this man was a graceful god or an animalistic human starved of this intimacy.

wilbur began to run his hands down your sides, the kiss still intense and connected. at first, his palms and fingers grazed and held your body with a soft care, and then you whimpered and a switch flipped inside his brain. he let out a soft groan, his kisses leaving your mouth to messily line your jaw, down onto your neck. he nipped and nibbled, a suck or two here and it felt like the gods were gracing you with a personal fireworks show. and in all honesty, one of them was.

his hands got harsher in their grasps and squeezes after that switch of intensity was flipped. he was groaning roughly into your neck and his hips leaned down, meeting yours gently and you gasped, your hands finding purchase in the curls on his head, tugging softly. you felt a hardness graze your thigh through your pants and his.

his body was warm as he presses himself against you, he's warm and comforting, like a golden wave of energy surrounding you-- you pushed him up and you began to undo the buttons on his shirt and he lowered his kisses for a moment before he swatted at your hands gently.

"no, no, baby- I do the undressing, got it?" He growled softly into your ear before nipping at the earlobe and he pulled back. he hastily undid the buttons on his shirt, pulling it off slowly, making a show of it. you squirmed under him and he shot you a warning glare. you wanted to know what the warning was about, you wanted so desperately to find out. "don't be such a whore, sweet one--"

His words drew a whine from your throat and he only chuckled, "I die so I can see you and be fucked-- that's more whorey than trying to take off that damn shirt-"

His lips quirk into a sharp smirk, looking down and shaking his head, "oh you're right, aren't you, baby? you're such a whore you find anyway you can to be under me, hm?" He holds the smug smirk as he dives down to attack your neck in kisses, not bothering with your shirt. he's just as desperate as you, with the way he's hastily undoing his pants, unbuckling and unbuttoning before throwing them on the ground beside the bed.

He looks to you, slender fingers ghosting over your own jeans and you nod. He hesitates, "words, baby."

And you nod again, rolling your eyes in a playful and loving way, "yes, you may,"

"Good baby," he growls softly, doing the same as he did with his own pants, pulling them off and throwing them aside without a single care. he dives down again, kissing you deeply and taking your bottom lip between his teeth. he nips and sucks at it, your whining echoing against his skull and he can't help but whimper against your mouth. you want to throw a snarky comment at him, break his ego just a little bit, but you stop. your mind is fuzzy, for one, too over took with anticipation to come up with any decent comeback. but, for two, you can't help but feel an incessant love in his actions.

he hooks his fingers around the waistband of your underwear, "Color, darling?" he speaks so softly, a whisper, a promise. he's so soft all of a sudden and you haven't a clue why.

"Green, daddy," You say it without thinking, without second-guessing the syllables that spill from your mouth. when he freezes and looks at you, your face burns red. you hadn't ever used the name in a non joking context (what he thought was joking), let alone in a sexual manner, so to say the least; it caught you both for a whirlspin.

"sorry- sorry, wilbur- it was an acc-" you're immediately cut off by a searing kiss, one that makes you take a few steps back and squeak before you're able to settle into it, to realize it's even happening. when you do, you sigh, grabbing onto the curls on his head and tugging slightly, whimpering into his mouth and whining against him. he slides your underwear down, letting it bunch at your knees, he's slow with how he sinks his hand down. two fingers between your folds and circling your clit in a smooth and soft motion. you whimper, a soft moan following as he pulls back, still circling it and adding slight pressure as he holds your face in the other hand. his knees are what's keeping him above you as he kisses your jaw so sweet and soft.

"how are you feeling, baby?" wilbur whispers, and you let out another sweet moan as he adds a bit more pressure. tt's gentle, it's loving and it feels so fucking good.

"Good.. sooo good.." your words slur a bit, and he chuckles at how far gone you already are. how long has your desperation been this bad?

"mm, you miss my hands, honey? They way they press-" he emphasizes with his fingers pressing against your entrance, but not sliding in. You're not as ready as he wished you'd be. granted you were soaking the moment your sweet moment with him turned less than sweet, he's specific with how much teasing and taunting he does before he… commits, shall I say. "you miss the way daddy makes you feel, huh? The way I fill you up? when you're so full of me you can't do anything but whimper.. such a beautiful little slut, huh? all for me.. for your god."

you nod softly, wrapping your fingers into your curls as you whine; eyes wide and soft, full of love for the god above you. words slipping away, unable for you to even use them, to speak back to him.

"love," he grabs your chin, pinching it between his fingers and you whine at the way his hand no longer rests between your legs, "use your words, baby," he coaxes, your legs wrapping around his waist.

"mm, yes," you mumble, squirming under him, whining and desperate for more of his touch, "please?" you beg, not elaborating yet it's both clear what you're wanting. you want more than just his fingers, need more-- but he has his methods and you're much too busy feeling to even bother with arguing.

"just a few more minutes, okay? only a few, bunny," he leans his face down into the crook of your neck, placing soft gentle kisses on the skin as he slips his pointer finger inside you; grazing your walls as his thumb gently circles around your clit. he watches as you open your eyes to glare at him, visually telling him off for the teasing he's doing. he chuckles softly, "okay, okay, baby," another finger joins, and he curls them back as he begins to move them in and out. his mouth leaves behind marks in the wake of his kisses and you can't help but whine at every sensation and touch he provides.

as he moves to pull his fingers out, he goes back in; deeper. curling his fingers when he pulls back again, then spreading them gently, watching you closely for any sign of pain or discomfort you may be feeling. all he notices is the soft moans that slip from your lips every few seconds, a response to each touch he makes.

he uses his free hand to rub your cheek, keeping your eyes and attention on him as his fingers do the work, "bunny, how are you feeling?"

"mm more?"

"use more words, hun," you whimper, whining softly up at him and using your eyes as a method to convince him. it takes a few more moments of this before he nods, "color?"

"green," you smile softly, gasping when he pulls his fingers away, slipping them in your mouth to suck off your essence and taste yourself.

"good baby," his lips curve as he pulls his fingers from your mouth, wiping your lips with his thumb before he leans down to capture your lips in a searing kiss. he readjusts his position, pulling your bottom lip into his mouth as his hands lift your hips up to meet his, "color?" he mumbles against your lips; sounds of breathing melding together as he situates himself and lines up at your entrance.

"green, promise," you bite your lip, eyes cast up on him, your hands tangled in his curls as his hands slink up onto your back.

"good baby.. that's it," he hums, lips finding purchase on your neck; nipping and sucking with glee as he slowly sheathes his cock inside of you. you feel the familiar stretch of his size, eyes daring to look down at how much of it you can see through the bulge that always forms. his fingers ghost over the rounded area of your stomach and he groans, "already so full of me, aren't you?" he smirks, eyes met with yours as he rubs the skin of your stomach, settling inside you and letting you adjust to how big he is.

"mm yeah.. feels so good," you drawl out, eyes fluttering shut as you feel him bury himself just a bit deeper; hips flush with one another.

"oh, baby, I haven't even moved?"

"so?" you slur, biting your lip as he holds your waist, thumbs rubbing your skin.

"color?" he murmurs, moving to kiss gently against your neck and collarbone. you want to feel this heaven for a bit longer. you don't want him to move yet, you need to revel in the feeling of being so absolutely and desperately full of your god.

"yellow.. need a minute," you look up at him, fingers running over his lips and tracing the shape, and you lean up to bring him into a sweet kiss, pulling back and mumbling, "green,"

he smiles, kissing all over your face as he starts to move, thrusting with care as he builds up a quicker pace but being as gentle as possible. his hands roam your sides, fingers gripping as he shuts his eyes. groans slip from his mouth, lips agape and letting every moan and grunt slip past and travel to your ears.

"fuck, you feel so good, baby.." he groans, opening his eyes to glance down at you and watch your expression. your mouth is open slightly, whimpers and moans meeting his. he leans down to bring his lips to your neck again, leaving behind sweet love bites.

your sweet sounds of pleasure speak for itself, soft moans and whimpers are music to wil's ears. his thrusts become rougher, each one going deeper than the last; your mind reeling as your fingers grip the sheets.

"fuck, fuck," he grunts, face hidden in your neck as your back arches up into him, "feel so fucking good, baby.. such a good slut, mm? fuck you're so tight," he murmurs, using every word he can to his advantage.

his hands move from your waist to your hips, gripping tightly as his thumbs draw messy circles with every thrust of his hips. the sound of heavy breaths, moans and skin against skin fills the air; the scent of sweat and sex swirling with it.

you gasp at a particularly deep thrust, eyes rolling back as his head tucks into your neck. he slows down a moment, "you okay honey?"

you nod rapidly eyes shutting tightly now, and he slows a bit more, lifting his head and grabbing your chin with his hand; forcing you to meet his gaze.

"words, baby," he croons, kissing the tip of your nose before a moan slips past his lips.

"faster, please?"

he nods, smirking as he quickens the pace, leaning down to capture your lips in a sweet, slow kiss that says everything words do not convey. his hands fall back to your hips, lifting them slightly to give a better angle; and you whimper at the change. the way he goes deeper inside of you, the head of his cock grazing the deepest wall inside of you. his shaft running over that sweet spot with every thrust he makes, every movement of his cock.

your mind felt fuzzier and fuzzier by the second; melting into useless mush. there wasn't a way in hell you could speak if you had to now, all you could focus on was the tightening of your stomach and the absolutely heavenly feelings your darling god was providing to you.

wilbur begins to leave soft, messy kisses across your face as his thrusts begin to falter, getting messier and less precise with each movement.

"are you close, bunny?" he mumbles, kissing the shell of your ear as your moan a bit louder than you have, the knot in your stomach tightening tighter than it has before. you reach onto his back, digging your nails into the skin and creating half moons. you muster up the energy to nod your head, rapidly moving it as a yes; whimpers and whines following suit.

he grunts, hips sputtering as he draws closer to finishing, you swear you're gonna finish first, but lord knows he'll do everything he can to finish with you. he mumbles a quick question to you, if you want him to pull out or fill you up. and despite your melted mush for a brain, you mutter a response to the latter. you want him to stay inside you, to fill you up so full that all you can feel is him.

he glances down again, biting his lip and nearly coming right then when he yet again, sees the bulge he creates. he moves a bit faster, trying to bring you both over the edge. he reaches to grab your hands, intertwining your fingers together as he pulls you in for a final kiss.

"come with me, okay?" he mumbles against your lips before muffling any cry or moan you make as you come undone beneath him, he follows suit, filling you completely with his warmth. he gasps softly, pulling away from the kiss as he moves to rub your waist with his thumbs, kissing your face sweetly as you both catch your breath.

"baby, you did so good.. so so good. you took me so well, hun.." wilbur murmurs, fingers rubbing soft circles as he stays buried inside you for a few more moments.

"such a good puppy, yeah? sweet baby.." he sighs, pulling out not too long after he speaks, laying beside you and pulling you on top of him.

"so tired, daddy.." you whisper against his chest, nuzzling closer to his warm body as you can. his fingers sift through your hair, ghosting kisses on the top of your head.

"I know baby, but you were so good, did so good.. rest here, okay? get a little nap and then we'll have a bath, mm? how's that sound?" he coos, kissing your cheek as you sleepily smile, hands wrapping around his neck as he pulls you up closer by your lower back. he pulls the covers up over both of you, rubbing your back as he lets you nap for a bit.

before you fall asleep, you quickly mumble to him, "you were good too, daddy.. thank you," he smiles softly at your tired and slurred words, kissing your temple as he watches your breath even out.

he rubs your back as you nap happily on top of him as he watches you, thinking over the rest of his gift to you. this wasn't even part of it, yet you asked for it and he happily provided. he had other intentions, the big one being letting you stay in his world for eternity; or however long you wished. along with any other gift he had collected and created, wrapping it up and hiding it away in a room you never went into.

not too long after you fell asleep, he kissed your forehead and laid you down gently, tucking you in as he pulled on his underwear. he went into the bathroom, starting a warm bath with bubble bath and scented candles lit around the room. the lights off and the only light being the softer yellow light of the candles.

he sat on the edge of the bathtub, running his hand under the faucet, making sure it's not too hot or cold. he then put some rose petals on the floor and in the tub. he set up some towels on the stool beside the bathtub, with water and snacks for you both (but mostly for you).

he sat there waiting for the tub to fill before he heard you pattering close to the bathroom.

"daddy?" you called, sniffling softly.

"in here, pup," he smiles, standing up and walking up to where you stood by the doorway. you changed into a pair of his boxers and one of his shirts, a blanket wrapped around your shoulders. he kneeled a bit, rubbing your cheeks with his thumbs, "you okay, love bug?"

you nod, wiping your eyes a bit, a few more sniffles before you hum, "a bit, thought I lost you,"

he frowns, shaking his head before he pulls you into his chest, rubbing your back and kissing your head.

"I'm here, baby, it's okay," he coos, leading you over to the edge of the bathtub to where he picks you up and pulls you onto his lap, "how about you go pee while I go to the kitchen, yeah?"

you nod softly, hugging him close for a second before hopping off his lap and handing him the blanket before he scurried out to give you privacy; turning off the tub in the process. he hurried down the hall, slipping into the kitchen where he starts a cup of tea for you. you don't particularly like it, but he knows you'll drink it if he makes it for you. it helps your throat, you know this but it's just so gross to you. when the tea is finished, he carries it back to the bathroom, setting it on the little empty table next to the stool. he smiles as he sees you sitting on your knees, leaning over the edge and playing with the water.

"you ok, bunny?" he whispers, hand rubbing your back. you look up at him, eyes filled with love and adoration. you nod softly, standing up and reaching for him. he picks you up and holds you close, kissing your cheek over and over again.

"bath?" you mumble, body held tight against his. he chuckles softly and nods, pulling back and helping you undress and slip into the bath. he pulls off his own boxers before he slides in behind you, pulling you against his chest, fingers running over your belly.

he kisses your shoulder, his fingers sifting through your hair lovingly.

"how are you feeling, little bear?" you sigh, leaning your head back as he draws little shapes on your belly with his finger tips.

"tired, but good.. thank you, for earlier."

he smiles, nodding with a kiss to your bare shoulder, "you're welcome, sweetie," he pauses, nuzzling his nose against your neck and under your ear for a moment, "you want me to wash your hair, baby?"

you nod softly, humming, "mhmmm," then rest your hands on his knees, rubbing your thumbs over the skin through the water. you admire the difference of size between his legs and yours, giggling softly.

"what, bun?" he croons, rubbing shampoo into your scalp, running it through your hair as he waits for your response.

"I'm smaller than you, by a lot," you mumble, chewing your lips as you scoot closer against him.

"yeah, you are, huh? do you like that?" he asks, smiling softly to himself as he tilts your head back; rinsing out your hair.

"yeah, easier to be held by you," you sigh, shutting your eyes and leaning your head back further onto his shoulder. he smiles sweetly, a kiss to your nose as he finishes washing it.

he lets silence drape over you both, fingers rubbing circles on your belly again before he speaks up, "I have a proposal for you, for your Christmas gift."

"mm? yeah daddy?" you look up at him, eyes fluttering open as you gaze up at him, your hands reaching to play with his fingers.

"how do you feel about getting to stay here indefinitely, mm? be my immortal love?" he watches as your eyes widen with excitement, pure joy filling you as you sit up and grab his hands tightly, splashing some water in the process.

"really?"

"really, baby,"

you smile widely, muttering thank you's to him as you hold onto him, hugging his neck. he holds your back, pressing your smaller frame against his chest as he chuckles at your joy.

"are you that happy?"

"yes! yes, I am, I get to stay with you and be with you and I get to have you to myself. i get to have my daddy and- i- thank you," you whisper the last part, calming down from your rant as you take a few soft breaths. he reaches forward to caress your cheeks with his thumbs, rubbing back and forth as he smiles admiringly at you.

"I'm glad, and you're welcome, love bug," he pauses, gazing down at you as you move to sit in his lap, legs wrapped around his waist as he drops his hands to your back again, "no more sex for a while?"

"nuh-uh, I am sore, maybe in like... a week?" you suggest, shrugging nonchalant as he rubs your upper arms.

he chuckles softly, leaning forward to kiss your cheek, "youuuuu mean in a month?" he smirks softly, drawing his hands down from your arms onto your sides, pulling you towards him.

"well, maybe on Christmas Eve but-"

he smirks, kissing the corner of your mouth before he whispers, "in front of the fire?"

"with a candle?"

"look forward to it then, my love," he smiles, kissing your cheek before letting you rest on his chest, his hands running up and down your back as you sigh. you nuzzle your nose against his skin, finding peace in his warmth and touch.

not too long passes before he's sitting up with you, holding you by your lower back and pressing kisses to your jaw, "ready, baby?"

you nod softly, yawning tiredly as he steps out of the bath first, picking you up and standing you up against him. he holds you to his chest as he drains the tub, reaching over to the towels to wrap you up and help you dry off. he then dries himself off, which you just watch him with tired eyes, wanting to help but not having the energy to. you also knew he'd swat at your hand and get onto you. then he'd say; 'i'm meant to take care of you right now, not the other way around'.

you felt it was unfair, but arguing with him was fruitless. you whined softly, watching as he quickly put on his underwear. he smiles, shaking his head softly, "hold on, hun,"

he stood up, boxers on as he starts to pat you dry, "I wanted to help you, though," you whisper softly, looking up at him; damp curls hanging over his forehead as his light stubble gets highlighted in the dim light.

"mm.. maybe next time, okay? I'm here to care for you and you need to be cared for. deal?" you hesitate before you nod, letting him gently pat you dry, wrapping you up in the towel before he picks you up to carry you into the bedroom.

he sets you down on the edge of the bed as he hurries over to the dresser, grabbing a set of his boxers for you and one of his sweaters. you'd choose his clothes over yours any day and he knew that better than anyone. he helps you put them on before he brings you into his arms again, a few giggles from you before you both lay on the bed. you're tucked against his chest, head under his chin as he rubs your back again, playing with your hair.

"you okay, my love?" he whispers against your hair, kisses placed at the crown of your head as you nod.

"better than okay, daddy," you nuzzle against his chest, hands on his bare waist as you rub your fingertips and make shapes on his skin.

silence befalls on both of you, and he swears you're asleep, until you tiredly mumble, "I love you, daddy," which earns a smile and a sigh from him.

"I love you too, baby. you rest now, okay?" he mumbles, a few quick kisses before you fall asleep. he watches for a few minutes before falling asleep himself; feeling fully at peace with his love in his arms, being held and safe.

you'd both say this night was full of beautiful Christmas gifts, dare I say the best you could receive.

nsfw taglist; @lillylvjy @enanon (ask to be added!! 18+ only ty!)

[thatpodcastkid]

Magnus Archives Relisten 17, MAG 17 The Boneturner's Tale, Spoiler-Free Version

Honestly, if my high school bully got their hands on a demon book I think basically the same thing would happen.

MAG 17 analysis, spoiler-free.

Facts: Statement of Sebastian Adekoya regarding a new acquisition at Chiswick Library.

Statement Notes: "Books are amazing, aren't they?"

The first line of this statement is so hopeful. Sebastian approaches what happened to him with this strange light pouring out of him. He takes on the world with a realistic yet deeply optimistic outlook. His character feels out of place in the Magnus Archives world because, although he's afraid, he isn't sick or sad or angry or desperate. Despite the horror he finds himself facing, there isn't any actual disruption to his routine, meaning he doesn't have to change in the face of danger. Adekoya is a static character in a dynamic setting.

As a book lover, Adekoya uses a lot of flowery language in his statement. He spends the first minute giving a speech on the beauty and power of language and the written word. He serves as an incredible contrast to Jared. They don't necessarily have conflicting beliefs, but conflicting focuses. Adekoya deals in the beautiful and abstract, Hopworth deals in the messy and real. Language is art, humans are meat.

Since Sebastian and Jared are around the same age, and Adekoya just graduated college, we can assume Jared is about 22-23 during the events of this statement. His characterization was very realistic. People often joke about hearing the bully of their secondary school getting arrested, but it's very different when you realize the violent but ultimately harmless kid you knew has become a violent and harmful adult. Often, that violent energy is turned against family members first. Those who tried to help, those who enabled, those who don't deserve it.

The end of the statement was very frightening. The violence enacted against Adekoya is a show of power by Jared and, in turn, The Boneturner's Tale. The Bonetruner's Tale holds an eldritch power no human can possibly understand. It is capable of enacting violence no human can understand. Its power is so great, we are left to assume a car killed Sebastian, because no living thing could do that much damage. Right?

In addition to Mike Crew's strange strategy of dropping the Leitner off in a random library, he chose to file it as Trainspotting of all things. This means that not only did Crew check out Trainspotting from the library, but he now owns the copy. Does this matter at all to the plot or metaplot of TMA? No. Does it matter to my heart? Yes.

I also noted how Sebastian didn't seem attracted to Boneturner at all. There's a motif with Leitners regarding them "calling out" to people and drawing innocents into their dark ways as part of the cursed object trope. But clearly, it's not indiscriminate. The isn't an apple of discord or ring of power situation; Leitners are capable of choosing who they want to attach themselves to. While I don't know much about the Canterbury Tales (feel free to educate me in the notes), it does seem that as the book makes Hopworth stronger, he makes it stronger by feeding its written desire for blood and violence.

Character Notes: Who speaks to their boss like that. Who. "Fine, fine, I'll be more lovely?" Tf? You sarcastic bastard?

This is a...weird intro to Elias to say the least. While of course Jon is being rude and they're passively sniping at each other, Elias does seem calm. He seems responsible and put together. He's not antagonistic in any way. If anything, Jon is the aggressor in the conversation. Up to this point, Jon has been the listener's only lens to view this world through. So when we are presented with a new character to compare him to, and Jon is snippy and rude, we are compelled to see this character as calm and rational.

Also Elias calls him "Jonathan." That doesn't mean anything but god to be a fly on that wall.

[mhmery]

I think I have an unpopular opinion that I’m willing to explore more. Throughout the Law of Assumption forums and/or community, I’ve seen “repetition is key” and “persistence is key”. Which, in a sense, are true statements. However, I think there needs to be more context for beginners. I wasted SO much time trying to understand the lingo and the little phrases that were being tossed around, and it left me so confused.

Until I took a step back and read the work work of Goddard, Neville and a few other people. All of the forums and YouTubers have honestly over complicated things. So, maybe, I can break it down a bit.

- “Repetition is key”: The repetition of your affirmations is not going to produce your manifestations. It’s not. Point blank. Why? Because you’re not saying these affirmations to an external source in hopes that they give you what you want.

The repetition of your affirmations are for YOU and your subconscious mind. Your beliefs are what create— not your thoughts, your beliefs. Anything that you consistently say or even consume is what becomes a belief. Therefore, your affirmations and the repetition of them are what creates a belief— that is key.

- “persistence is key”: this one is controversial lol.

Persistence technically doesn’t mean that you have to spend every single day and second of your life scripting, affirming, visualizing. Persistence is a way of life. You are supposed to persist in the knowing and peace of mind that your desires are already created. No one can take it from you.

You can persist and that knowing. Even if you have a low moment or have moments of doubt— it’s okay. Have faith the size of a mustard seed; that faith alone can move mountains. When you have old thoughts spin the block, use your techniques— affirm, script, visualize the new belief; eventually they will subside.

- “Live in the end”: this one kicked my ass lol

This doesn’t mean pretend like what you want is already here. It means to make daily efforts to transform yourself ‘mentally’ into the version of yourself that already has what you desire. How? Maybe create habits, work through those trauma points in your life, analyze your current relationships with self and others and work to improve your beliefs and actions towards them.

Doing so prepares you for the “end” which is just when your desire comes into fruition.

-“ God, universe, higher self, etc.” : I fought with this a lot because of my religious upbringing. Moms a pastor— crazy story lol. Anyway, I didn’t want anything to do with the church because it’s just a big ass scandal.

Anyway, it wasn’t until I did hours of research and soul searching that I understood that God is just energy. Literally— just a very conscious and intelligent energy. What does that mean? Well, in the Bible (which is great manifestation tool btw), it tells us that human beings were the only creating made in his likeness. Meaning, we are conscious, we have subconscious, we can create.

The Bible also talks about God and man being one. This is mainly in relation to Jesus, but I think Jesus was kinda like the Neville Goddard of his time. Conspiracy— but hey. I tell you this so that you can understand that you are not absent from God (universe); you’re actually one in the same, but God is like the extended version of you.

This helped soooo much because I felt like I was holding everything inside of my head and that I was responsible for finding a solution. I also felt like I had no one to talk to my desires about. Then I learned about affirmative prayer. (I’ll talk about this more eventually.) knowing that I’m not praying to something outside of me, but to a part of me that has access to the outside brought me so much relief. And I literally trust that the shit will be done.

- “everyone is you pushed out”: giiiiirl this shit is IRKING

I’m gonna get sciencey because this didn’t make any damn sense until I brought science into the mix.

At the foundation of human existence is energy (yeah we have atoms and molecules and stuff, but it’s all just energy). The earth is just made up of energy. The UNIVERSE is just a big bundle of energy.

It’s not different types or species of energy; it’s the same type of energy in different shapes (or bundles) with different responsibilities. Hell, even a table is made up of energy. I’m a big bundle of energy and you are a big bundle of energy. Our SPs are a big bundle of energy— the same energy as everything in all of existence.

What does this mean? It means that we are all connected through the energy. So, yeah. When you think of someone and they text you soon after— that thought was literally energy being transmitted from you to them.

Don’t over complicated it lol. I swear it makes sense.

EIYPO literally means that because we are all energy, we are connected— so what happens to me happens to those around me. Which is why our self concept change is felt by those around us.

- “Birds Before Land”: honey— not everyone gets them, so don’t spend all of your time focusing on looking for them. BBL come after the manifestation, not before. However, there are moments when shit is just SO obviously meant for you to see. In those cases— give it good meaning.

I will say that when you invest all of your time looking for movement and signs, you’ll keep manifesting signs.

Uhhh— yeah lol there’s more but my thumbs hurt.

[cirilla-fiona-riannon]

Francis Drake Main Story

Translations may not always capture the exact nuances or tone of the original text. Expect grammatical errors.

On the night I received the earrings from Drake一

Comte: "Drake, you seem to have gotten used to living here, but how is your body?"

Comte asked Drake over a glass of wine at the dinner table.

Comte: "You’re somewhere between a vampire and a human, so I don’t think your bloodlust is that strong."

Drake: "You’re right."

Drake: "I’ve never felt a bloodlust strong enough to make me hungry. I guess I’m no different from a human."

Comte: "I see. In your case and Napoleon’s, the human side might still be stronger."

Comte: "As I mentioned before, there is a possibility that you will lean towards becoming a second-tier vampire if you consume blood."

Drake: "So if I don’t drink blood, I’ll mostly remain human?"

Leonardo: "Who knows? Being a half-vampire is an exceptional case. There’s a lot we don’t understand. But when the bloodlust strikes, the only thing that can satisfy the thirst is blood."

As they were talking, Arthur raised a glass containing rouge towards Drake.

Arthur: "Here’s some advice from me. Blood tastes much better when you get it directly from a girl."

Arthur: "If you bite while being intimate, it’s less likely to be noticed, and the atmosphere becomes more exciting. I highly recommend it."

Theo: "Don’t bring up lewd topics during meals, horny writer."

Vincent: "I still find the taste of blood a little unpleasant. I wish I could be satisfied with Blanc, but it’s just a substitute."

Drake: "I’m fine with it. I’m used to the taste of blood."

Everyone at the table looked surprised by Drake’s statement.

Vincent: "Drake, have you already tasted rouge?"

Arthur: "You haven’t been secretly biting Mitsuki, have you? We're not allowed to sneak around, you know?"

Mitsuki: "What!?"

Drake: "Haha! Actually, I might have taken a sip."

Mitsuki: "I promise! I haven’t been bitten! Seriously, Drake, stop lying."

I hurriedly denied it, but Drake continued while cutting the meat on his plate.

Drake: "I'm used to it because it was common in my pirate days."

Drake: "During a fight, you get hurt and covered in blood. It wasn't uncommon to swallow some of it."

Theo: "Don't bring up inappropriate topics at the dinner table, Drake."

Drake laughed and took a big bite of the meat.

While listening to the conversation, something suddenly occurred to me.

(How did Drake feel about becoming a half-vampire?)

Napoleon had agonized over being resurrected as a half-vampire against his will.

At first, Drake had doubts about living in a mansion where humans and vampires coexist, but he didn't seem bothered that he was becoming more like a vampire.

We finished our dinner as I pondered these thoughts. As the night deepened, the conversation among those relaxing in the living room revolved around Drake.

Isaac: "Drake, you were resurrected without a contract, right? Wasn't there something you wanted to do in your first life?"

Drake: "Hmm, if I had to think of something, it would be things like wanting to drink more alcohol, eat delicious food, or meet the woman of my destiny."

Isaac: "The woman of your destiny?"

Drake: "The most amazing woman."

(Woman of destiny? I think he said something like that before.)

(Oh, right. When we first met.)

------------Flashback------------

Drake: "Woman of destiny."

---------Flashback Ends---------

The words he mumbled back then must have been an overflow of his final thoughts.

(The most amazing woman, huh? It's vague, but that's probably his type of woman.)

I was a little curious but felt too embarrassed to ask.

Isaac: "You're talking about desires like alcohol, food, and women as unfinished business."

Drake: "I live honestly according to my desires."

Drake: "But if I had to force myself to mention something left unfinished, I’d say to set sail and reach the end of the sea, even if a possible demise awaits me."

Drake's eyes seemed genuinely serious as he said this.

(He really seems like someone who wants to set out to sea.)

Dazai: "It's a poetic and romantic dream for someone like you. Not fearing danger is what one would expect from a captain who has circumnavigated the world."

Drake: "Right?"

Drake: " Accomplishments and great voyages are only fun after you've taken the first step. And revenge."

Mitsuki: "Revenge?"

Drake: "My voyages were always about surviving the tumultuous seas. That's why I want revenge."

Drake: "But it won't start until I get a ship. I wonder if Comte can help with that."

Dazai: "Ahaha! Let's buy a big ship and have a party."

Isaac: "You better not, because Comte might actually buy one!"

The laughter never ceased, even at night.

Several days later, in the morning...

Mitsuki: "Huh? Drake, are you going somewhere?"

While cleaning the yard, I called out to Drake when I noticed him about to leave the mansion.

Drake: "Yup, I just need to run some errands in the city."

Mitsuki: "Are you okay going alone? You're still not very familiar with the town, right?"

Drake: "Don't worry. Dazai showed me around casinos and bars the other day."

(If it's him and Dazai, they probably hit it off and went sightseeing together.)

Mitsuki: "Just be careful not to go to unsafe places. You never know what might happen."

Drake: "Are you worried about me? This monsieur is so happy."

Mitsuki: "As your roommate, it's only natural."

He teasingly peered into my face, and for some reason, my heart skipped a beat.

Drake: "Don't worry, little fawn. I'm not going for fun today. I have other matters to attend to."

Drake: "Besides, I got my stuff back, so there's nothing to fear."

He opened his coat, revealing a knife and a gun hanging from his belt.

Mitsuki: "You're a tough one. I'll try not to worry too much. Take care."

Drake: "Yeah, see you later."

I waved my hand and resumed my work as he walked away.

(What kind of errands is he running? It's rare for him to go to town alone.)

(Is he going to meet with someone?)

He was the type of person who could easily make friends with anyone, so it wouldn't be weird if he already had friends.

(Wait, is that someone a woman?)

That thought popped into my head, bringing me back to reality.

Mitsuki: “Stop it, Mitsuki! Don’t stick your nose into someone else’s business.”

I turned my attention back to my work to sweep away those unnecessary thoughts.

Sebastian: “Mitsuki, could you bring the pets’ food later?”

Mitsuki: “Sure!”

Mitsuki: “Draco seems to really like the food you make.”

Sebastian: “I’m honored.”

Sebastian happily smiled when I told him this while doing his chores.

Sebastian was like the ultimate butler—he always went the extra mile to make sure everyone, including the pets, felt totally at ease.

Sebastian: “By the way, the name Draco sounds like it'd suit a pirate.”

Mitsuki: "I heard it was originally Drake's nickname. I think it means devil."

Mitsuki: “Huh? But if it means devil, shouldn’t it be a demon? What language is Draco?” **

I tilted my head in confusion, and Sebastian raised his index finger.

Sebastian: “Before explaining that, let’s have a quiz. What do you think is the origin of Draco?”

Mitsuki: “Draco, Draco... Wait, dragon?”

Sebastian: “Impressive, that’s correct. You got it in one shot.”

Sebastian: “Draco means dragon in Latin. In some cultures, dragons and demons are considered the same.”

Sebastian: “The surname Drake itself also derives from the word dragon, so perhaps as a homage to the awe-inspiring nature of dragons, Draco, with the meaning of devil, was used as the name.”

Mitsuki: "Wow, Sebastian, you really are something. You even know the origin of the names."

Sebastian: "Well, I used to be a historian. By the way, that person's name also has the same origin."

Mitsuki: "That person?"

Sebastian: "Vlad."

Sebastian: "His family name, Draculesti, also means dragon."

(That's an interesting connection between Drake and Vlad.)

(Come to think of it, I haven't introduced them to each other yet.)

Sebastian: "Oh dear, is it this late already?"

Sebastian: "I got carried away. Mitsuki, could you do me a favor?"

Afterward, I went to the city's university.

The favor Sebastian asked me to do was to deliver something to Isaac.

------------Flashback------------

Sebastian: "Lately, Isaac has been staying late at the university for his research."

Sebastian: "He has a unique condition where he needs to consume rouge five times a day, so could you deliver this rouge and food to him?"

---------Flashback Ends---------

(I'm here at the university, but I have no idea where Isaac is.)

I wandered around the campus, but everyone was in class, so I couldn't find anyone to ask.

(Hmm. I guess I'll have to wait for the class to end.)

Deciding on that, I looked up at the sky in the courtyard and saw the moon.

(The moon is so pretty.)

(It's quiet around here. It's making me feel so relaxed.)

Lost in the beauty of the moon, I walked without realizing someone had come out of the corner of the building.

Mitsuki: "Kyaah!"

???: "........."

I accidentally bumped into someone, and the thick book they were holding fell to the ground with a thud.

Mitsuki: "I'm sorry! Are you okay?"

???: "Be more careful."

Hey, little fawn. There's something that's been bothering me lately. It's not about the 19th century or vampires. It's about you.

Apart from me calling you little fawn, does anyone else have a nickname for you?

Because I heard Theo calling you Hondje and Dazai calling you Toshiko-san. I even heard that someone called you a guinea pig.

I can't help but wonder how they even called you that in the first place. Well, I guess they must be wondering about my nickname for you, too.

I'm a bit bummed that someone else had their own nickname for you before I did. So, I have a suggestion.

Let's not have anyone other than me—oops, I mean anyone other than me and Draco call you little fawn. Why? Because I don't like it.

Even though you're my little fawn, if everyone else starts calling you that, it'll feel like they took you away from me.

So, let's make little fawn a special privilege for us. Can I get your approval, little fawn?

Previous Part ╎ Masterlist ╎ Next Part

[sailorshadzter]

ive been writing a lot for other ships lately.

so here's some jonsa ft. sansa making the move on her man

She wonders when the knock comes to her door, if this interaction will save her soul, or simply break her heart. 

Eyes shift towards the door and for the briefest of moments she thinks she won’t open it; she thinks of him out there, palm pressed against the wood, gray eyes downcast, a hitch to his breath he probably doesn’t even recognize. Waiting, hoping, just as she’s been. But, she rises up a moment later, a sigh escaping as she takes hold of the knob and pulls the door open. Of course, there he stands, eyes widening slightly with his surprise, softening at the sight of her. “Sansa…” His husky vocals speak her name in a way that sends shivers down her spine and she steps back, silent, allowing him to slip inside. 

Just like that, they were as they once were, trapped between a moment of what was and what could be. Neither of them speak, for there’s no words to be said, not now, perhaps not ever. He knows he should speak the truth, should tell her all that has happened since the day he last left Winterfell, but she’s glaring daggers at him, making him wonder if coming to her rooms had been nothing more than a mistake. “Well, you’ve come for a reason haven’t you?” She finally asks, the fight fleeing from her with another sigh. She returns to the chair she once occupied, reaching for the pitcher of wine when she sits, two goblets there at the ready. When she turns back to him, Jon nods. “Well, come on then,” she says, exasperated, pouring the first goblet, which she pushes across the table, so he might take hold of it when he sinks into the chair opposite her. She pours herself the next goblet and doesn’t bother to recork the pitcher, as if she knows more will certainly be poured. 

“I don’t know where to begin,” he says, speaking honestly, his admission bringing a chuckle from her lips. 

“Just the truth.” 

They’re both thinking the same thing then- of the moment they had shared early that day, neither getting the answer they truly desired. Back then, the truth had been closer to the tip of his tongue then it was even now, for the sight of her distress then had been enough to nearly undo him. But now, she’s quiet in her calmness, the goblet of wine at her lips as she takes her first sip. “I’m afraid you won’t believe the truth,” he admits, softly, the words changing her. Her hand stretches out across the table top, as it’s done before, to take hold of his, giving it a small squeeze. 

“I’ll always believe you, if only you just told me,” she says quietly, not withdrawing her hand. 

Jon lets out a shaky breath, his other hand falling into place over hers; she’s soft and warm, something he’s missed all these months without her. He knows he owes her this much, the truth of it all, but he had thought… Had hoped… That sparing her the truth would keep her safe. The less who knew, the better, but then again… Swallowing against the agony of it all, he opens his mouth and begins to speak, weaving for her the tale of the time he’s been away- of what he’s had to do and why. And of course, that’s not it. There’s the other truth as well. 

By the time he’s finished, the pitcher of wine is nearly empty and she’s drawn her chair around the table to sit beside him instead. “It changes everything,” he says, dejected, but somehow relieved now that the truth is out there in the open. “It’s as I’ve always said, I’m not a Stark.” 

“You are,” she shoots back without hesitation, the clarity of her statement forcing his gaze back up. Her blue eyes are gleaming in the firelight, her shoulders squared, the look upon her face one he’s only seen when he dares not argue back. “Your mother was a Stark… And so was your father.” He opens his mouth, as if he means to protest, as if he thinks she’s not come to understand what he’s just told her. “Ned Stark was your father, Jon. He raised you, fed you, clothed you, protected you. He was your father as much as he was any of ours.” Jon feels tears stinging in his eyes at her passionate words and he closes his eyes against them, opening them only when once more, he feels the touch of her hand to his own. “I’m sorry Jon, for not believing in you as I should have.” 

“I didn’t exactly make it easy for you,” he admits, forcing away the need to take her hand as well; his fingers ache with it. 

She smiles, tilting her head, red hair falling across her shoulder. “It wasn’t just about giving up your crown, I was jealous, in truth,” she speaks freely, perhaps thanks to the wine, perhaps thanks to his own honesty. When Jon arches a brow in surprise, she chuckles in spite of herself. “Jealous of her. Of you being with her.” His breath catches, heart skipping a beat, the realization of her words dawning as quickly as she says them. Jealous… She was jealous? “She is quite beautiful.” 

“Not as beautiful as you,” he says quickly, more honesty. 

A blush stains her cheeks and she stands up, closing the small gap between them so she can sit down on his knee, the weight of her both warm and comforting. His heart is beating so fast he wonders if she can hear the sound of it as she leans in, close enough to kiss, close enough to taste. “When you were with her… Did you think of me?” She asks so quietly he wonders for a moment if he’s only just imagined her speaking at all. He blinks, trying to find the words to stutter as a reply, uncertain if he should tell her that truth: that yes, of course he had. All he can do is give a single nod and it’s all he needs because her lips are on his then, the feel of her hands sliding into his hair sending shivers down his spine. 

His arms twist around her hips, drawing her in, the kiss only intensifying with this new placement. Jon feels her hand unbind his hair so she can run her fingers through his curls without fail and one of his hands is stroking the long length of her hair, the other pressing against the small of her back. How long has he wished for this moment to happen? “Sansa, I…” He rasps when they break apart, breathless, but longing for more. The sound of his voice saying her name in such a way melts her and she sinks into him.

This was where she’d wished to be for so long, now that she was here, she can barely believe it. But he’s kissing her this time, long and true, his hand tangled in the locks of her hair, his other palm still warm against her lower back. 

This was a place she would stay forever.

[imakemywings]

You have some of the best takes on the events that happened in Silmarillion and I wanted to know your opinion/stance on something. Do you consider Fingolfin an 'usurper' when Feanor and Finwe left in exile? Because as someone new in the fandom (there's honestly a lot to unpack), so many interpretations/takes believe he was actually trying to usurp Feanor (*sighs* typical feanorian apologists/followers). I myself didn't see him as a usurper, I thought he was taking the initiative to become a leader because his father (I understand Finwe was well-loved more than Indis, but he pisses me off on so many levels, dude was so bad at being a dad, he should've never desire for more children if he's going to neglect them in the end) joined Feanor (eww favoritism) in exile and that left Tirion kingless. So why were people whining that he was a 'usurper'? I'll never get that.

Aw thank you, I'm glad you enjoy them! (*/ω＼*) This book really gets my brain whirring. There is definitely a lot to unpack, and my views on events and characters has absolutely changed in the last two years since I first read the book and have had more time to re-read it and reflect.

Fingolfin as a usuper is a fanon notion and it's not one I buy into. I think it goes hand-in-hand with the take that Feanor and Fingolfin are both equally responsible for the state of their relationship, which is not true. Feanor began this, Feanor escalated it, and Feanor was the first to bring weapons and deadly threats into it. Even if Fingolfin at times retaliated or started squabbles of his own, I still see Feanor as the primary instigator of their "rivalry," particularly considering it's noted that he also doesn't like Finarfin (it's just that he sees Fingolfin, as Indis' oldest son, as a greater threat, so Fingolfin gets more of his (negative) attention).

Going under a cut because as usual I rambled lol

However, I don't really agree that Finwe was a notably terrible father. I mean certainly you can read that into it, it's just not how I prefer to read it. Finwe made mistakes, as many parents in Silm did, but I don't think he didn't love his other children or that he obviously and outright preferred Feanor to the others, and I don't see any evidence that he neglected Indis' kids. I think he followed Feanor into exile because he felt very strongly Feanor had been wronged by the Valar and wanted to make a statement about it, and perhaps he felt he needed to be even more vocal in taking Feanor's side throughout his life because of what happened with Miriel (particularly given Feanor's tendency to view himself as the victim already). It is also relevant to note I think that they were most likely all adults when this happened, so it's not that he was abandoning minor children.

Was it irresponsible to leave Tirion kingless? Yeah, totally. Right after their crown prince was exiled for publicly threatening the life of his own family member? Bound to be a chaotic time in the city (relative to the past, not to things to come :')) Finwe is someone who I can see being a little myopic--he's not always good at seeing alternative perspectives once he's staked his own out and it causes him not to see the consequences that might come of his actions. But character flaws like this are what make them interesting to me, because it makes me curious how one as beloved as Finwe nevertheless ends up making several crucial mistakes that help set the stage for the rebellion of the Noldor.

As to Fingolfin, I think his willingness to forgive Feanor--and Feanor's tacit rejection, or at least failure to accept--says a lot about the state of their relationship. Now you could argue Fingolfin was just doing a PR move--even that he knew or suspected Feanor would not accept his forgiveness, which would make Feanor look completely unreasonable next to Fingolfin--but I tend to think he was genuine, because I think Tolkien would have said or hinted if he'd done it with an eye towards his own image.

First, when Feanor is first brought before the Valar for judgement for threatening Fingolfin's life, and it is revealed that he has been influenced by Melkor, there's this:

"...and Mandos said to him: '...for twelve years thou shalt leave Tirion where this threat was uttered...But after that time this matter shall be set in peace and held redressed, if others will release thee.' Then Fingolfin said in answer: 'I will release my brother.' But Feanor spoke no word in answer, standing silent before the Valar."

Even here, where Feanor is on trial for drawing a weapon on him--which has NEVER happened in Tirion--Fingolfin still refers to Feanor as his brother, and Feanor does not acknowledge it. Fingolfin, if he truly wanted to usurp Feanor, could have easily refused to release Feanor or make amends, and perhaps Feanor would have then been subject to longer banishment or other additional punishment. But he doesn't seem to hesitate to offer his release.

Then, the moment on Taniquetil when Manwe calls them all to the home of the Valar:

"Nevertheless he [Feanor] met Fingolfin before the throne of Manwe, and was reconciled, in word; and Fingolfin set at naught the unsheathing of the sword. For Fingolfin held forth his hand, saying: 'As I promised, I do now. I release thee, and remember no grievance.' Then Feanor took his hand in silence; but Fingolfin said: 'Half-brother in blood, full brother in heart will I be. Thou shalt lead and I will follow. May no new grief divide us.' 'I hear thee,' said Feanor. 'So be it.'"

This encounter follows a similar structure to the first: Fingolfin offers forgiveness, Feanor neither accepts nor openly rejects it. Once again, Fingolfin had his life threatened by Feanor's tantrums; he has every right here to be angry and withhold his forgiveness, but he doesn't. Not only does he release Feanor from the consequences of his actions, he really seems to be trying to heal the bond between them. Again, you can disbelieve that he's genuine here--but I read this as sincere, and I think Tolkien would've told us if it wasn't, or even if Fingolfin had ulterior motives in addition to wanting to heal this divide.

The only time during Feanor's life when Fingolfin really competes with him is during the Flight of the Noldor. Fingolfin leads the larger host of the Noldor to Alqualonde, but this occurs by choice of the Noldor, not because Fingolfin was trying to steal Feanor's following. He comes along only because he doesn't want to leave those who would follow Feanor to Feanor's whims, given how unreasonable and unpredictable he's been lately, and more of the Noldor are willing to follow Fingolfin than to follow Feanor. He could have also chosen to remain behind in Tirion, where he could have made a very easy claim on the throne--but he goes along, because he's convinced it's the right thing to do.

Part of the point of Feanor's mindset in Aman is that it was unfounded, until his own actions seem to give him confirmation he was right. If Fingolfin really had been gunning for his position, then Feanor was not paranoid, and his fears were not unfounded, and to me that undermines a central pillar of the pre-Darkening situation in Tirion, which is that Feanor was terrified of something that would never come, which Melkor took advantage of by making him believe it was coming. Feanor is afraid that Fingolfin will take his place--and by Feanor's own actions Fingolfin ends up ruling in Tirion. But Feanor doesn't see that connection in his madness--he sees only that what he feared has come to pass, even just temporarily.

"With him into banishment went his seven sons...Thither also came Finwe the King, because of the love he bore to Feanor; and Fingolfin ruled the Noldor in Tirion. Thus the lies of Melkor were made true in seeming, though Feanor by his own deeds had brought this thing to pass..."

A key phrase here is lies of Melkor. Melkor LIED when he told Feanor that Fingolfin wanted to take his place. He saw Feanor's fears and insecurities and found some lies that Feanor would be all too willing to believe, and made sure they were whispered into Feanor's ears, so that he would take them as truth.

All of this says to me that Fingolfin had no designs on the throne, that Feanor imagined or created their rivalry himself, and that Melkor simply took advantage of Feanor's irrational fears which he had never put to bed after his father's remarriage.

So to sum up this whole thing: No, I don't buy "Fingolfin the Usurper."

[ahmementos]

Remember To Forget

I think at this point the retelling of RE 6 has been done in abundance but I never did it, hence this drabble.

He had been told Chris didn’t remember anything.  “I think I’d remember a hot piece like yourself.”  To hear Chris refer to him as a hot piece was wild.  

Leon was almost regretting being sent in on the assignment.  He had been assigned to guard detail for the President for so long that, after assuring the detail taking over for him was competent, he leapt at the chance to get out of the US and breathe. 

“If you did, you’d realize that is not something you’d call me.”  Leon tipped the whiskey glass back and swallowed down its contents.  “Ever.”  

Whether or not he’d like for Chris to call him that was irrelevant; Chris didn’t know who he was at that particular moment and Leon wasn’t going to pretend Chris felt that way when he was himself .  He stared at the man he’d been tasked to bring back, a man the BSAA didn’t want to trigger by sending in his squad unless they absolutely had to.  I’ve met him once, was Leon’s response, but he went anyway, following intel to the bar he’d heard Chris had practically been living at.  

“Then losing my memory was the best damn thing for me, especially right now.”  Chris had been looking him over since the conversation had been initiated, if Leon was being honest but at that moment?  If Chris could have devoured him with his gaze, he would have.

Chris hadn’t shaved in at least a month and his appearance was far from the clean cut soldier he tended to present himself as.  Leon couldn’t even say his disheveled appearance or the fact that he smelled like he bathed in alcohol before heading to the bar was a turn off.  That said more about his own tastes than it did Chris’, didn’t it?

“And the minute you get your memory back, you will regret having those thoughts.”  He wasn’t drunk, not yet, but Leon was already regretting having the thoughts he was having about a man who didn’t remember who he was, let alone who Leon was to him… which was nothing.  Claire’s friend, fellow survivor of Raccoon City; that’s who Leon was.

Chris didn’t even blink.  “Well you could fuck me, and see if that jogs my memory.”  His eyes never left Leon’s as he took another drink.  “Unless you really aren’t invested in bringing me back in like my alleged superiors want.”

“Aha.”  More a statement than an actual laugh, more a deflection than an admission of desire, Leon leaned back in his chair and did his best not to lick his lips.  “Even if I thought that was a good idea, you are too drunk to honestly consent to that.”

Chris tipped the bottle of whiskey against Leon’s glass and filled it up.  “Then you get drunk with me,” he offered as a faulty compromise.  “Then we both can make stupid choices.”

“A man who’s still too sober for his own good, trying to make a deal like that.”  The glass lifted in Leon’s hand and tilted against his lips.  

Chris offered a lazy half smile.  “Your room or mine?”

*

No one drunk off their ass could ravage another person so expertly.  Skilled fingers made short work of buttons and zippers on pants  Calloused palms smoothed Leon’s shirt up and over his head.  He knew being a functional alcoholic was possible - ask him how he knew - but Chris was making him feel like he had a lot more to learn about the title if he wanted to be the reigning DSO ‘ drunk at work and no one can tell’ champ.  Either that or Chris wasn’t as drunk as he was pretending.

“I better not find out later-” Leon tried to speak but the mouth back on his silenced further protest.  He didn’t want to find out later that Chris was faking being drunk because that meant he went along with this game willingly, because he wanted to fuck him.  The affair was only okay if it meant nothing.

The neon sign just outside the window illuminated Chris’ face when he pulled back.  “Stop thinking,” he whispered, words spoken against Leon’s jaw and brushed against the shell of Leon’s ear.  

All Leon could do was nod; every one of his senses were being overloaded by a man he wasn’t sure was even drunk.

Chris told him to stop thinking but all Leon could do was think, think about the real reasons why he jumped at the chance to come try to save someone he only met once .  Obligation to Claire, obligation to the country, or was it because meeting Chris Redfield one time had the man on his brain more times than he cared to admit?  Ultimately, he wanted to know how those rough work worn hands felt against his skin, against each and every scar his own line of work had given him.  As Chris’ fingers mapped along a healed over bullet wound on his shoulder, he could confirm it felt amazing.

“This your first?”  The strength that Chris expended to hoist Leon up on the bare topped dresser was impressive, him sliding between Leon’s parted thighs even more so.  “With a guy?”

Leon answered by hoisting a leg up so that his hand could make contact with the pockets and slap a packet of lube against his chest.  “No.”  

Every inch closer Chris pressed against him was almost too much, and the sight of him tearing into a packet of lube with his teeth was even more so.  “Always prepared or were you hoping it’d go this way?”

Like the good little whore he’d been told he was on more occasions than he cared to count, he answered with more of a moan than he wanted to.  “Always prepared.”  Words breathed out when slicked fingers slipped inside him.  “Not complaining that it’s going this way, though.”

“Are we enemies?”  Chris’ words were hushed against Leon’s skin as he worked him open with a gentleness that was what Leon expected from the boy scout, but not from the amnesiac rough around the edges man he’d found at the bar.  “Battle buddies?  Wingmen?  Am I dick deep in pussy when I’m not out saving the world instead of between these perfect fucking thighs?”

“None of the above, s’far as I know.”  Leon shook his head, then let it fall back against the wall.  “If you ever thought about me like this, you kept that shit to yourself.”  

Chris slowly withdrew his fingers.  “I don’t guess amnesia stops the body’s natural desires.”  The space wasn’t left empty for long, just long enough to slick up his cock and gently press inside.  “If my old memories come back and erase this, remind me I said that shit about being between your thighs.”

Leon bit down on his bottom lip until Chris’ mouth offered assistance in muffling his unwanted noises.  One of two things was going to happen.  Getting off inside his tight ass was going to jog his memory or he was never going to remember this shit happened thanks to alcohol and Leon was never going to bring it up.  His nails sunk into Chris’ back, both out of response to the pace picking up and also to the thought of giving any of it up.  

If there was ever a moment Leon wished was at the bottom of every bottle he crawled into, it was that one.  He wanted every empty bottle of whiskey to lead to Chris Redfield being between his thighs, every last drop following every last orgasm the man could wrench out of his body by simply tilting his hips just right as he thrust deep inside.  

“The me you know is an idiot.”  He wanted the amnesiac Chris to sit down with real Chris and make fucking a normal part of their daily routine.  

Leon wanted to declare the Leon that Chris currently knew was the bigger idiot, getting tipsy enough to fuck without a second thought, but he was too busy thanking that same idiot for disregarding the moral implications of the scenario.  He just held on tighter, met Chris’ thrusts with his own, and let the world spiral away… 

*

Leon was gone before morning.  “Look he doesn’t remember me enough to click anything into place for him, okay?”  He wasn’t comfortable leaving his post with the President for long and he was definitely running from the case of feelings and emotions he caught with those warm arms curled around him in the middle of the night.  “You can probably send the BSAA team in and it would work better.”

“ He didn’t even remember you from the Terrasave party?”

He spoke softly as he crossed the airport towards his departing flight home.  “I did what I could but he definitely did not remember me.  He didn’t remember you either, Claire.”

“He’s an asshole like that, I guess.”

“All it proves is that we all spend too much time doing our jobs and not enough time being with the people we care about.”  Leon sucked at pep talks and cheering people up.  Claire knew this.  The fact that she was still sitting on the phone pretending he had some magical phrase to make it all better was telling of how upset she was.  “Tell BSAA he’s probably softened enough to take whatever intervention they have planned.”

“You make it sound like you fucked him into complacency.”

“A spy never tells his tactics and trade secrets.”  He was glad the phone didn’t convey the blush he knew was spreading across his cheeks.  “I have to board, Claire.  Send the BSAA in.  He’ll come around-”

“I want a big party, a real party, when whatever the hell this mess is gets cleared up.”

“Whatever you want,” he promised.  Always the needs of others, never his own.  His own needs would’ve had him saying to hell with the President and staying until Chris came around.  His own needs would’ve insisted Chris come back with him and they’d sort the amnesia out later.  

Claire wanted a party.  The President wanted his topman back on the job.  Whatever Leon wanted was irrelevant.

*

“So Ada’s not dead.”  

Leon had been doing his best to avoid Chris as much as possible since the missions got entwined.  “No… she’s definitely not dead.”  Now the man was blocking his escape from the med tent he’d just been checked out in.  “I’m sorry about Piers.”

Chris nodded and took a step closer, but didn’t quite crowd Leon's space.  “He was a good soldier who deserved better,” was all he said on the matter, quietly and solemnly.  

“We all deserve better.”  Leon stared at the table and his hands flat against it, anything so he didn’t have to look at Chris.  

“I was going to retire after this mission,” Chris confessed, crossing his arms over his chest as he spoke on a subject he wasn’t sure Leon cared about.  “I remembered a guy I ran into when my head was a mess that I wanted to hunt down.  He had the most perfect thighs-”

Leon definitely couldn’t look at him after that omission.  “I’m supposed to say it was a mistake and that we were drunk and apologize, right?”  His breath caught in his throat as Chris crossed the distance between them.  “If you’re asking about Ada-”

Chris’ hand was so gentle as it tugged Leon’s chin in his direction so he was forced to give him eye contact.  “Only if you and Ada are an item and you were off having drunk affairs instead of actively giving in to something you wanted.”

“Ada is complicated but I wasn’t running from her that night.”  Leon’s eyes slowly shut as he leaned into Chris’ touch.  “You’re going to a joint operation after this, hm?”

“I’ll be gone long enough for us both to think about where we might go from here.”

“When do you leave?”

“Twelve hours.”

Leon’s hand slid down Chris’ chest, fingers left to hook around belt loops.  “Twelve hours is a long time.”  His other hand slipped into his pants pocket and pulled out a key card for his booked hotel for the night.  “Plenty of time to shower and decompress from one of the longest goddamn missions on record, if you want my professional opinion.”

“Your opinion is the only one I want to hear right now.”  He sealed the deal with a kiss, long and deep, his own hand wrapping possessively around Leon’s hand and the keycard that promised one night of bliss before it all went to shit again for both of them.

[nyxshadowhawk]

A Jungian Reading of Jekyll and Hyde

We finally come to the end of The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. I saw a comment that @gerrysherry left on another post asking for a Jungian reading, so I thought I would take the excuse to go off about my favorite psychological concept. Strap in, because I have thoughts.

Jekyll describes himself as “composite,” both good and evil, while Hyde is pure evil. In a Jungian reading, Hyde is Jekyll’s Shadow. This means that he is an expression of the repressed side of Jekyll’s personality. He is everything about Jekyll that Jekyll is ashamed of, not just his secret desires and pleasures but also his violent impulses and wanton cruelty. I argue that the reason why this ends so tragically for Jekyll is because he fails to integrate Hyde; and, in fact, actively attempts to segregate the halves of himself.

The first thing that Jekyll tells us in his statement is that he’s really, really repressed:

Hence it came about that I concealed my pleasures; and that when I reached years of reflection, and began to look round me and take stock of my progress and position in the world, I stood already committed to a profound duplicity of life. Many a man would have even blazoned such irregularities as I was guilty of; but from the high views that I had set before me, I regarded and hid them with an almost morbid sense of shame. 

The Victorians were already repressed, but Jekyll is even more repressed. He feels deeply ashamed about these nameless “pleasures” (which, let’s be honest, is probably just being gay) and distances him from his conscious personality. He doesn’t want these secret parts of himself to influence his public reputation, or otherwise interfere with the image of himself that he presents to the world. So, he buries them deep down, hiding them not just from the world, but from himself. He already feels like he has a dual nature even before the mad science gets involved.

Jekyll’s intention with the mad science is essentially to give himself Dissociative Identity Disorder, I think. He wants to separate the “good” self from the “evil” self, and have them live independently from each other. Honestly, knowing what I know of DID, I fail to understand how that would be much better. I don’t think he ever really thought this through. But he finds that he cannot do this. He doesn’t end up with a purely good self and a purely evil self, he ends up with his normal self and a purely evil self. The purely evil self, Hyde, is literally just Jekyll with his inhibitions removed and his repressed aspects brought to the surface. Apart from that and his changed appearance, Jekyll isn’t any different. He initially acknowledges this, that Hyde is just himself but in Shadow form:

I felt younger, lighter, happier in body; within I was conscious of a heady recklessness, a current of disordered sensual images running like a millrace in my fancy, a solution of the bonds of obligation, an unknown but not an innocent freedom of the soul. I knew myself, at the first breath of this new life, to be more wicked, tenfold more wicked, sold a slave to my original evil; and the thought, in that moment, braced and delighted me like wine. I stretched out my hands, exulting in the freshness of these sensations; and in the act, I was suddenly aware that I had lost in stature.

Here, he’s talking about Hyde in the first person. He feels younger, more reckless, and more wicked, but he otherwise hasn’t changed. He’s still aware of and in control of his actions. Hyde, being a Shadow, is both everything Jekyll does not to be associated with and everything he secretly wants to be. So, he goes for it. He lets out all of his repressed crap, indulges in his “undignified” pleasures, and then returns to his conscience. Hyde is still Jekyll, but with a unique opportunity to resolve his midlife crisis and live it up with no consequences. 

A lot of adaptations portray Jekyll as an innocent victim of an evil alter rising up from within and taking over his body. I just watched Moon Knight, so I’ve been thinking about Dissociative Identity Disorder for these last few days. (If you haven’t seen it, Moon Knight is AFAIK one of the best portrayals of DID in media.) In Moon Knight, Marc and Steven are literally separate people that share the same body, to oversimplify a bit. Steven has no awareness of Marc at first, experiences amnesia and blackouts, and has no control over Marc’s actions at all. Despite how adaptations might make it look, Jekyll and Hyde emphatically do not work like that. Jekyll and Hyde are the same person. They don’t just share the same body, they are literally the exact same person. 

That means that there is no meaningful difference between Jekyll and Hyde. Everything Hyde indulges in is something that Jekyll already enjoys. Everything Hyde does is something Jekyll already wants to do. Everything Hyde is responsible for, Jekyll is equally responsible for, because they’re the same person. 

Jekyll never fully comes to terms with this, and that’s where he goes wrong. “It was Hyde, after all, and Hyde alone, that was guilty. Jekyll was no worse; he woke again to his good qualities seemingly unimpaired.” He never makes any real attempt to confront or deal with these dark desires of his, he just shoves them off into a secret double life. So, when the halves of his life start to overlap against his will, what does he do? He freaks out, and starts repressing Hyde again, even worse this time: “I led a life of such severity as I had never before attained to.” His answer is not to try to understand Hyde, take responsibility for his actions, or reconcile his shame. Instead, he locks his Shadow up again, with even tighter mental padlocks. But once the Shadow has been let out to play, it doesn’t go back in the dark easily. Jekyll “began to be tortured with throes and longings, as of Hyde struggling after freedom.” Repressing Hyde has made him feel like he has an internal monster straining to break free and wreak havoc, instead of Hyde being a relatively superficial shift in appearance and mindset. 

One commonly accepted reading of this is as an addiction metaphor, especially because it’s followed up by a relapse in which Jekyll takes his drug again and commits an act of senseless violence. From a Jungian perspective, though, Hyde’s actions are worse when he finally breaks free because Jekyll’s repression of him had been so severe. Jekyll got scared and shoved down his Shadow, so when his Shadow bursts forth, all of the repressed desires and impulses that compose Hyde manifest themselves in the most horrifying way. The more Jekyll represses his darkness, the bigger it grows; the brighter the light, the darker the Shadow. It festers like a wound unattended. So, the pendulum swings all the way back in the other direction, and the violence feels good: “With a transport of glee, I mauled the unresisting body, tasting delight from every blow...” 

It’s after the horror of having murdered someone that Jekyll starts intentionally dissociating himself from Hyde more and more. He speaks of Hyde in the third person, because he can’t bring himself to admit that Hyde’s actions are his own. He starts to speak of Hyde the way many adaptations portray him: as if he were an uncontrollable evil force, rising from within in an attempt to take over and destroy him. He even dehumanizes Hyde, describing him as a kind of beast: “He, I say—I cannot say, I. That child of Hell had nothing human; nothing lived in him but fear and hatred.” Then he speaks of Hyde and Jekyll as if they’re different people entirely, with different motivations and desires. Then he speaks of Hyde as something “inorganic” -- not only inhuman, but unalive -- the “slime of the pit” and “amorphous dust.” He’s so desperate to disassociate himself from his Shadow that he insists his Shadow is inhuman dead matter.

Hyde is not actually becoming a separate being as the story goes along. Jekyll is slipping further and further into denial. As I said before, there’s no meaningful difference between Jekyll and Hyde. Jekyll’s failure to realize this is his undoing. The more Jekyll denies that Hyde is himself, the more his Shadow manifests involuntarily. When he self-righteously pats himself on the back for the charity work that he did to assuage his own guilt, Hyde nearly takes over completely. 

So what should Jekyll have done? This is where the Shadow concept doesn’t fully line up with Stevenson’s worldbuilding. Hyde is literally pure evil -- everyone can see it in his face. The Shadow is not actually evil, it’s just the parts of you that you refuse to acknowledge. This is usually because you personally believe them to be evil, or because your culture has taught you that they are evil, but that doesn’t mean they actually are. Jekyll’s premise was flawed from the beginning. It’s not possible to separate a human being into good and evil halves. This is because there isn’t really such thing as inherent “good” or “evil.” Who decides what’s “good” and what’s “evil”? Victorians? Humans are nuanced. All parts of oneself are there for a reason and have value, because they can be helpful or harmful in different situations. Jekyll should have taken responsibility for his actions as Hyde, but he also should have found healthy outlets for his darker desires instead of beating himself up over them. Maybe fantasize about killing someone you hate and then move on with your life, instead of snapping and actually doing it! Jekyll should have integrated the two halves of himself instead of doing everything in his power to separate them. 

Your Shadow is half of yourself, and if you repress it, then you lose all the potentially positive aspects of it. If you repress pride, you lose your self-confidence. If you believe that power and ambition are the root of all evil, you may lose your leadership skills or ability to be assertive. If you believe sexuality is evil... well, that’s kinda self-explanatory.  The answer here is, ultimately, self-love.  Your Shadow is you, and it still wants what’s best for you, it just has a very different idea of what that means. The least you can do is hear it out and give a hug, instead of locking it back in your subconscious dungeon. 

It’s extremely difficult to admit to and then to come to terms with your Shadow. It’s a dark night of the soul. It’s a long and laborious process, in which you’ll have to reassess your identity. There are other works of media that I think demonstrate how to do it healthily, like The Wizard of Earthsea by Ursula LeGuin (although, just watch, I can make any story about Shadow work). You’re not alone, you’re not evil or sick, and you’re not a hypocrite for having a Shadow. Most people have them, and making friends with your Shadow is a genuinely wonderful thing. Thank you for coming to my TED talk. I can’t wait to analyze The Picture of Dorian Gray next!

I leave you with this masterpiece of an animatic, by S.K. Michels. Speaking from experience, this is how Shadow work sometimes feels. (Also, this artist’s portrayal of Jekyll/Hyde looks scarily like an OC I use to represent my own Shadow, so this video hits particularly hard for me). 

[ante--meridiem]

I really liked the idea of ship classification ask game based on that post, but honestly I don't know what fandoms you've been into lately, cuz I'm just back on tumblr after a big hiatus xD

So I'll formulate my question like this. What about the quadrant thingy for the four popular ships from the fandom you've been in the longest?

(From my tags here)

Hey!! Thanks for biting! I think the fandom I've been in longest is tma? I don't know exactly which 4 ships are most popular for it so I'll try to do it as "for each category I pick the most popular of the ships that clearly (to me) belong there".

Also some clarification on how I interpret things, based on other people's responses to the post it seems like a lot of people are taking "makes sense" as "proximity to canon" where I was seeing it as either "yeah I can see what personality compatibility these characters would have" or "I could see how the situation they're put in could be made easily shippy even if canon doesn't follow up on that". So "makes sense, doesn't compel me" doesn't mean "canon but boring" here, it means "I see the vision but am not that enticed by it". Meanwhile very many actually canon ships fail to make sense to me.

So with that said

Makes sense, compels me: jonelias (Elias' "shaping Jon for his own ends" thing could easily be developed into fascination/obsession; Jon's hunger for answers and desire to regain some control over his life could easily be developed into hunger for the person who can give him those things)

Makes sense, doesn't compel me: wtgfs aka georgie/melanie (on first impression I did think this came out of left field and didn't make sense but on further reflection I do see where it's coming from? Georgie has an established pattern of being interested in people more prone to boldness/acerbicness/need-to-dig than she is, between Jon and Alex (I think that's the name of the girl from her statement who I thought it was fairly heavily implied she had some level of crush on), and it makes sense for her to be drawn to/admire those traits because she wants to be more like that herself; meanwhile it makes sense for Melanie to go for someone capable of a more grounding/calming presence who continued to respect her when her reputation was damaged. Nothing canon does with them really compels me but hypothetically someone could do something with them that does; I think I read one fic once where I did find their dynamic interesting.)

Doesn't make sense, compels me: gertrudeagnes (they only interacted once and we didn't even get to see it directly, and there's nothing in their personalities that immediately indicates compatibility, but they both have strong personalities that could mix and clash in interesting ways and I'm pretty intrigued by the possibilities)

Doesn't make sense, doesn't compel me: jonmartin (rather than redo one of my many rants about them I'll just say that I can see that the intention with them may have been a similar kind of complementary personalities thing to what made me now concede that Georgie and Melanie do make some amount of sense, except that Georgie and Melanie admire the traits the other has that they lack and would want said traits for themselves, while Jon and Martin mostly show frustration/disdain/disinterest towards each other's complementary traits.)

[tiredassmage]

8, 13, and 20 from the get to know the OC asks for Tyr?

I really had to sit with almost all three of these for a while, so thanks for putting me through some paces on this one, lol! I'm answering these just a smidgen out of numerical order because it was actually answering 13 that led me to 8, so! Away we go!

[Get To Know The OC Asks]

13. How important are romantic relationships to your OC? Do they prefer casual sex, short flings, or long term relationships? Do they want to get married or are they content with what they have? Or do they have no interest in romance whatsoever?

Tyr's admittedly someone I'd accuse of being a bit more of a romantic at heart than he realizes at times. If you'd asked him in the thick of his service with Imperial Intelligence, a long-term relationship was "a nice thought," but it didn't fit within the reality of his service as a Cipher. But that doesn't mean that it wasn't still his ideal, I think.

His relationship with Shara Jenn is something that he might explain as something of a professional mistake, if or when you can get him to talk about it now. I'm not sure he ever settled in expectations for it to last, so he certainly never made solid plans for it. It was a matter of... enjoying what they could while they were alive to do it. Given the opportunity though? She's a woman he would've married.

In a full relationship, Tyr was always going to go looking for something with a deep connection - something committed, something that came with a promise from him to be as genuinely himself in it as he could be. Marriage isn't a deal-breaking step in that process to him, but he's down for the idea. As long as there's a mutual understanding of what he and his partner(s) desire of the relationship, the official, legal statement of that commitment isn't strictly necessary. But Tyr's pretty ride or die, romantic and otherwise.

I'd usually say he's not exactly the type for casual sex, but whatever's between him and Alucren, one of my other agents, is... generally a bit more casual - it runs a bit closer to "just sex," if you will. "Just sex" is honestly probably a phrase Tyr would hate and wouldn't use. Frankly, even in the more easy-going, no romantic feelings involved relationship he does have with Alucren still has a level of emotional investment that's hard for either of them to ignore, and neither of them would really want to, I think. The physical act alone isn't really the most joyous part of the experience then for Tyr; it's always something he's coming to with an attentive eye for his partner(s), their needs, and Tyr's own desire for something grounding. Something more genuine and real than what he's willing to perform for the job, which is where this took me into the next question.

8. What was your OC's most embarrassing moment? Does it still bother them or are they able to shrug it off?

So, to try to pick up somewhat cleanly where we left off, sex is... a part of the job of being a Cipher to Tyr. But it's not a part he takes lightly - perhaps a bleed-through from his own preferences. It's a part of a Cipher's toolkit, but it's not right for every Cipher. Tyr would call it an emotional labor perhaps far more than a physical act.

So when Raina Temple brings this up, it's... an interesting conversation to navigate. All in all, specifics aside, Raina and Tyr would probably be a lot closer in general if she hadn't met him during one of the worst years of his life, but that's... a whole other post, probably. So, anyway. Temple. And an attempt at flirting. At a time where Tyr wasn't looking for a(nother) relationship [given Shara's promotion to Keeper and Tyr's assignment deep-cover with the SIS at the time, the specifics are a bit... complicated or looser, but Tyr was committed, is all that really matters], and... the long story short of it is Tyr approached her asking first as a senior operative, with... the understanding that it seemed the motivation for asking might be a bit more personal.

But it's dangerous for many reasons, the kind of work they do. And as carefully as he tried to explain whatever they spoke of on the matter was coming from a strictly professional advice standpoint, I think some feelings still got a little smarted perhaps from both ends when Tyr agreed to find an evening they could go over this privately.

The short of it for Tyr is if she was determined to learn about such techniques and engagements and how an agent might use them, ensuring her safety in the matter was worth potentially toeing a line where he might look bad if it wasn't as strictly professional as they had discussed. And to be clear before speaking any further - they're still friends to this day. This is something they don't touch upon again after that evening aside from a debrief, if you will, where Tyr checks up on how she feels and Raina agrees perhaps this particular path of the work isn't as suited to her as she might've thought. That said, I couldn't say Tyr's proud of or even pleased with the agreement made in the first place.

A lot of his regrets in general when it comes to Temple is not being able to be there for her early time in Intelligence in the way he would have liked. Had circumstances been different, the two of them could've been a much more solid team working together. And I think some of that early bit between them was Raina having something of a quick crush on Tyr, but it wasn't in a place to be reciprocated. That might've been different too, if a lot else had been, but for as things are now, Raina seems pleased with how her career has turned out with the Chiss and the two have an opportunity in the Alliance-era to connect a bit better and stronger than they did when they'd first met.

20. Has your OC ever done something terrible and lied about it? Did they run away or blame someone else for it? How long did they maintain the lie and did the truth ever come out?

The "count your sins in the line of duty" sentiment from one dialogue path at the end of agent is a little interesting to mull over with Tyr, though it's not one that's ever come in my playthroughs for him, specifically. I think I've spent a lot of time with Tyr as conscientious of the costs and the implications of the kind of work he does and all of that is true, but his hands aren't clean by any stretch of the imagination, either. Generally speaking though, Tyr doesn't regret a lot of what he's done as a Cipher. He'd still generally go as far to say that he's proud of being a Cipher, proud of what it took to join Imperial Intelligence, proud of his service and what it symbolized to him, what he fought for in his mind, in his interpretation of the work and his position.

I think the one bordering on exception I've found to that I found discussing with a friend one of our versions of events where he meets their Consular, Izvoye, and they become close. But falling for and becoming involved with Izvoye does mean he runs up against Zenith, who of course has connections with Gray Star - the Balmorra job. Nine's that agent Intelligence got into that cell.

Overall, it's not a job I'd say Tyr regrets how it went. But in that discussion with my friend came up Tyr telling Izvoye about it because it felt like something she deserved to know, given Zenith's friendship with her. And it's something I think Tyr isn't... pleased? with having to share. Most of it I think is a worry of aggravating an old wound, that the telling of the story was only going to make something worse rather than help anyone, but he finds when he comes back and she still accepts him readily, it's... it's still a bit about perception.

And that taught me something a bit new and interesting about Tyr and that specific job, too. Balmorra is a job where Tyr's still loyal to the Empire, generally, beyond his loyalty to Imperial Intelligence. But there was something I think he'd only know to call respect for the Balmorran resistance. For their dedication, for their loyalties, for their unwillingness to break to the Empire's pressure. And Gray Star was fighting for all of that even without clear Republic approval.

That strikes a chord with Tyr, in short. At the time, he's not really sure what to do with it. He's got a job to do, and that's to shut down these cells in the Eagle's network. The only option then is to pull the trigger. The only certain option he sees, anyway. But it doesn't... feel as clean as some of the other times he's killed.

To speak a bit more generally back to the question then, I think the only person he's actively tried to sort of... protect from the harsher elements of his work as Nine, who he is as Nine, is Vector. Vector's guidance to Tyr has always been pretty honest to Vector's thoughts and feelings, regardless of their expected roles by other parties, and Tyr knows there's moments where he's acted with a colder hand than they would like to see. Vector still accepts him, of course, but... It's I guess another matter of "this element of the work isn't for everyone" and Tyr's consistent drive to try to do what he can to spare another going through the same trials and struggles he does. Because Tyr's already bloodied his hands and bruised his ribs and twisted himself around in this kind of work. Not everyone can do that without breaking entirely. And he strongly feels not a whole lot of people should have to try. What else are they fighting for if not to prevent? To protect? An idealist in Imperial Intelligence.., he knows how strange it sounds. But it's his truth, and he put his heart and soul into it just as much as blood, sweat, and tears.

[linkspooky]

I actually find your take of “Maki is in the bad place right now” really refreshing and honestly relieving.

Since I personally also believe that as well. However, a lot of people tend to take the comparison between her and Toji in a way where she would surpass him in a way that she would be mentally and emotionally better/a better person than Toji.

And I’m a bit baffled by that statement, since Maki murdered a whole clan. If anything I personally think that the comparisons are a negative foreshadowing since it should not be a good thing she is becoming more like Toji.

People take the massacre as a symbolic way of Maki destroying the patriarchy and misogyny, which I’m honestly find it hard to believe. Since if mass murder can reform society Gojo would have killed the higher ups in the beginning. But he stated how it’s pointless and does nothing. Thus, I believed that Maki didn’t destroy the patriarchy, she just made her mental and emotional state worst by not confronting her trauma of losing Mai.

I did remember hearing an argument that she is supposedly already better than Toji since during the Kyoto vs Tokyo arc where Maki and Megumi are against Hanami, Maki corporate and knew her limits. Thus switching to Todo and Yuji. Stating how she doesn’t get lost in her cockiness like how Toji does. I’m honestly not too sure if I’m restating that argument correctly, but that’s how I took from it.

However, I found that a bit inaccurate, since Toji actually did know his limits thus he tend to act cleaver and smart to gain a more upper hand. He only died due to his pride getting into his head. And honestly that’s a similarity that Toji and Maki have, in my opinion. They are both too prideful to admit their vulnerabilities. Both try to distance themselves from those who are important to them (Toji with Megumi, and Maki with Mai), and both ended up regretting it.

Both have definitely not emotionally mature to deal with their trauma, and the argument as if Maki is more emotionally better than Toji is incorrect. Since if that was the case, she should have mended her relationship with Mai during the Kyoto vs Tokyo arc. Where Mai was right there! Telling Maki how she felt abandoned and just wanted to know if Maki still loves her. But rather than Maki reconnecting with her twin and reach an understanding between the both of them, Maki instead put her pride before her love for Mai, and left her alone once again.

I honestly can’t really blame anyone for all this though, since it tend to be a common belief within the fandom that Maki supposedly left the clan in the first place for Mai’s sake… Even though, it personally doesn’t make sense to me, but… okay. Not only that, the manga didn’t even really show the negative repercussions of like… killing a whole bunch of people. So I guess I can understand how people are assuming that Maki is in the “right” path.

I definitely believe Maki need an intervention to be in an actual good place, since she is definitely not right now.

Hello, thank you so much for this ask I loved reading it. However, it is a long ask so I am going to do my best to reply to it bit by bit.

I talked about this in a previous meta, but yes I have let's say dissenting opinions on most of the fandom's takes on Maki's character progression so far. In the meta I spoke of the fact that not only is Toji a bad example, because one while being a victim of the cycle of abuse he very much continued the cycle of abuse not only to his own son, but complete innocents like Rika. Toji is not a role model in any sense of the word. Of course, part of that is obviously Maki does not even know who Toji is, she just saw him appear during the fight against Dagon and to the Zenin Clan members present, he was the only one who seemed to be free of any restrictions at all.

Maki only sees him as someone who was powerful, and therefore someone she wants to reach the same heights as, but that's the problem in and of itself. Maki's desire for power at this point is empty. She has no need to want to be stronger, because if she was fighting the Zenin to make them a better place for Mai (and that's a big if because it's not really her original stated reason in the Kyoto Battle arc, it seems like she either changed her mind or Gege decided to take her in a different direction / added that in to make Maki seem more aggrieved when Mai died) then her primary goal is lost. If she wants revenge against Mai, well she has that now. Maki has the vague goal of getting stronger, with a big "FOR WHAT?" stapled at the end. You could say she wants to help her friends, but it's a little bit inconsistent to have her murder tens of people in then just go back to everyone else like "I want to help my friends" completely emotionally healthy and fine.

Which leaves us with Maki is gettig stronger, because she has nothing else left after losing Mai, for it's own sake, or for the sake of her pride... and that is exactly why her becoming more like Toji is wrong because Toji at some point gave up on everything else including his own son and fight basically just for himself and his own selfish reasons. He formed his whole identity around taking jobs and sorcerer killing for money, because he had nothing else and when he had something in Megumi he deliberately decided to throw that person away. Toji is strong, but that's all he is.

The comparisons between her and Toji read like negative foreshadowing, because Maki herself is not doing anything to really differentiate herself from Toji. She admires him for his strength, wants to be strong, and that's about it. She has the vague notion that she also wants to be free, represented by the birds taking flight. A really common take I read is "Unlike Maki, Toji didn't want to make any positive change in the world or reform anything" but like Maki has not expressed any desire to reform things either. She doesn't have ideals besides "be strong."

Megumi and Yuji are characters who are also constantly seeking to be stronger, but they think about the world around them and try to form ideas of right and wrong. Maki killing the clan also wasn't because she believed the Zenin was too corrupt and needed to be wiped out, it's very specifically a vengeance killing to avenge Mai. She did not do it because she wanted to affect positive change in the world, she did it out of her hurt feelings for Mai. People also say it's wrong to compare Maki's mass killing to Geto's mass killing, but like... why is one murder of a lot of people any more or less moral than another? The whole reason that Geto killing the whole village is so wrong and such a destructive turning point for him was because not every single person in that village was responsible for locking Nanako and Mimiko in that cage, and it wasn't just about revenge for them it was also about Geto's increased disillusionment with all the humans around him. We can't be one hundred percent sure if every single Zenin clan member Maki killed was even guilty, besides several of the people were people without cursed technique in the Kukuru unit they were probably treated poorly and looked down upon in the clan too.

There's nothing moral about Maki's actions, they are a response to the trauma of losing Mai, and the thing is I don't think Maki is past the point of no return there is still every chance in the world for her to claw her way back and deal with her grief for Mai in a more healthy way... but murder ain't it.

This is something I was addressing earlier, Toji either acted with no pride and fought for completely empty reasons (money) and at the same time for prideful reasons. Maki wanting to prove herself to the clan is more about her pride because she would have hated herself otherwise, and that's understandable but like I said there is not much else left to her now, she is only getting stronger for the sake of that pride because she has lost any other objective.

Which is exactly the same pride that got Toji killed. If Maki's objective was to destroy the Zenin, well she has gotten it, she's won. There's nothing wrong with her wanting to be stronger, but once again we reach this big question of "Why?" she has lost Mai, completed her vengeance against the Zenin, she can't verbalize any reason why she would want to be stronger now so the only thing left is pride. There's nothing more than self-affirmation left for her.

THe only thing Maki verbalizes is that she's not satisfied with being like everyone else, and wants more to reach the greater heights, but once again... and then what? What does she want to use that strength for? What is the purpose of this other than to prove that sorcerer society was wrong about her? 

The only thing I can glean from Maki’s self reflections during the Naoya chapters was she wanted to climb to greater heights, because at least that’s... something. 

 mean this is me neglecting to mention the fact she just killed upwars of like, fifty people and seems to express no regret for it or emotional reaction whatsoever.

She's clearly not processing her feelings in any healthy way, she even casually mentions she stabbed her own mother in the back and then is like... "...Well, moving on." And like her mother is one of her abusers, Maki has every right to loathe her mother, or even strike back against her and yet at the same time like I said Maki doesn't really verbalize or consider how she feels about it, it's just... well she's dead now moving on.

Yeah, I think number one a common fandom perception is that Maki killing the clan was some kind of move for political reform or to rid the jujutsu world for corruption when it was not... it was motivated by revenge. It is also literally the opposite of what Gojo said that they should do, he spends an entire chapter saying why they can't just slaughter everyone on the top.

My entire point about Maki is if she had positive character development like people seemed to think she has, or if she was in an emotionally healthy state, just like you said Maki would have been able to just talk about her feelings and process them in a healthy way. She's so bottled up she doesn't really think about her feelings. Maki has the vague goal of "Freedom" and yet, she is technically free now, no more Zenin Clan, has she moved on? Has she stated what she wants to do next?

I honestly think the Maki wanting to reform the Zenin clan for Mai's sake, may have either just been Maki changing her mind because of what Mai said to her in the Kyoto Battle, or even a retcon to make Maki look more sympathetic before Gege had her kill a bunch of people. If Maki was doing it for Mai's sake, why not just tell Mai that she wanted to help Mai make the Zenin better for her? Why not just tell her sister she still cares and is doing this for her sake and Mai is clearly distraught and begging her to just give her any sign she still cares.

Maki saying "I didn't want to hate myself' is the response she gave her, which indicates what he true motivation was, her pride over her sister and while it's udnerstandable why Maki wants to be able to love and respect herself in a clan that abused her at the same time it's a pretty consistent character flaw she has. She also has to have a character flaw or something to work on because the manga is not over yet, and if you're going to focus on a character then they need to grow and change in some way.

Also like I said yeah, framing. Geto is at least clearly framed as in the wrong when he kills the people in Mimiko and Nanako's village. No one even mentions Maki murdering the Zenin clan, and no consequences for it have hit her yet.

[cimeret]

Sooo ... the thought that Obi-Wan and Dooku never met before ATOC keeps haunting me.

Honestly, in-universe it never really made sense to me. Even less so after watching TOTJ and seeing how Dooku actually cared about Qui-Gon and expressed interest in meeting Obi-Wan. It's another Anakin/Grievous situation except all the characters involved should have an active interest in making it happen. First, Qui-Gon should have introduced them to each other, second, both Dooku and Obi-Wan should have been curious to meet the other, third, while the Temple is large, how unlikely is it that they didn't run into each other once in a hallway somewhere, in the courtyard, at some official event? (It's common knowledge that, normally, you can't take two steps in the galaxy without running into some old acquaintance.) But we have Dooku's statement from AOTC and there's really no way to soft-retcon "our paths have never crossed before".

So I tried to come up with reasons that might have prevented Obi-Wan and Dooku from meeting. I guess these are more headcanons than a coherent theory, but sometimes I like to play around with ideas. (Also, this got really long and I'm not sorry)

As a Jedi, Dooku was hyper-focused on his private mission against systemic injustice and the Senate for most of his time. He was away from the Temple a lot, with his mind always on his cause, and meeting young Obi-Wan just wasn't a priority. It's not that he didn't have time or didn't care at all, it just comes down to what he chose to devote his time to. Noble cause > interpersonal relationships. TOTJ also paints him as much more of an antisocial loner than I had imagined him to be in his Jedi days. So when he was in the Temple, he probably preferred to keep to himself, so a chance meeting with Obi-Wan would be unlikely. He left the Order in 42 BBY when Obi-Wan was 15, which would mean that for 2 years Dooku seemed to have better things to do than get to know Obi-Wan. Sad. How much contact he had with the Order after he left, and when, is not entirely clear; he still visited regularly, but apparently remained less in communication with Qui-Gon.

After he started aligning himself with Sidious, he may have distanced himself even more from Qui-Gon. Up till TPM, he was still self-aware enough to see that he was on a dark & dangerous path and I think he might have been torn between wishing Qui-Gon would join him or not. Although he often said that he would have liked Qui-Gon by his side (like in AOTC to Obi-Wan; in the TOTJ episode "The Sith Lord" to Sidious), some things like the long, final look he gives Qui-Gon in their farewell scene in "The Sith Lord" make me think he was, in truth, rather conflicted. Part of him may have wished to keep the whole Sith business away from Qui-Gon, to protect him (and, by extension, Obi-Wan) from Sidious and maybe even from himself. By this point, he already killed his best friend Sifo-Dyas, the clone army deal is done by now ... there is no going back for him. So it could just as easily be the other way around: That he's distancing himself because he knows full well that his relationship with Qui-Gon is a weakness. Thus, his "I should like to meet him someday" might actually be more of an "I wish I could have met him". Not so much a desire, but more like regret. Because part of him knows it's not going to happen, not anymore (well, or at least not in the friendly family setting his statement implies). He ruined this possibility for himself for a long time, and I wonder to what extent his detachment may have been an active, perhaps even (semi-)conscious decision. One recurring theme of the Dark Side is that it asks you to kill everything you love or could potentially come to love. And Dooku is a perfect example of a character who is somehow set on making his own existence miserable, even when he has sooo many better options open to him.

As for Qui-Gon … well, I think his complicated relationship with both Obi-Wan and Dooku might have kept him from introducing them to each other. Qui-Gon clearly loves Obi-Wan, but at the same time he isn't always sure if he can be the mentor Obi-Wan needs. Their relationship is always overshadowed by the after-effects of Xanatos, Bandomeer, Melida/Daan … there are quite a few stories about how they had a little trouble connecting with each other initially. Even after they resolved most of their issues, there may always be a bit of uncertainty left, an unspoken strain on their relationship. And how is Dooku going to factor into this? What if Dooku destroys this balance they've managed to achieve? Because for as much as Qui-Gon respects and loves Dooku, he also knows of his reckless, destructive tendencies. I mean ... even as a Jedi, Dooku has always been pretty dark and creepy at times (yk, Force-choking or Force-lightning people) and yes, maybe Qui-Gon has come to grips with it and they have learned to live with this dynamic (as you do) and have grown together to form a reliable team. Something that works, but again, it's not perfect. And again, there's a lot of underlying uncertainty here -- I think that is nicely illustrated in some of the books where Qui-Gon reflects about how Dooku's & Rael's relationship feels so very different from Dooku's & Qui-Gon's.

And now adding Obi-Wan to that mix? Well, for starters, I think Dooku would find a lot to criticize about Qui-Gon's teaching methods and point out both his and Obi-Wan's flaws, question some of their choices … there are too many directions this could go that end up hurting Obi-Wan. And of course Qui-Gon would defend Obi-Wan and himself, but it would still bring things to light that are uncomfortable. Because Qui-Gon is a little bit Obi-Wan's Dooku and a little bit Dooku's Obi-Wan. In a way, he balances both of them, so he can't have them clash. He would have to question himself, his life choices, and two of his closest relationships. Or what if it goes in the opposite direction? What if Obi-Wan's latently rebellious and questioning nature is further spurred on by Dooku? To what extent would Obi-Wan even listen to and trust his master's guidance, to what extent might he be inclined to listen to Dooku instead? I always thought that in an alternate universe, Obi-Wan and Dooku might find a lot in common if they just happen to meet under the right circumstances (though I have to admit that I just like seeing the two of them together, so I'm probably biased).

Ultimately, it boils down to how Qui-Gon might be harboring the subconscious thought that he is not living up to expectations. Not to his master, not to his padawan. And maybe he's made peace with that individually, but the moment the three of them come together? That's where the established dynamics shift. It could hurt and end badly, or it might have saved some things in the long run (but knowing Star Wars, it's more likely to be the former). My point is, Qui-Gon may not have been actively or intentionally trying to keep them apart. But he didn't necessarily encourage them to meet either, and deep down he may have been relieved that it never came to that.

Obi-Wan had a lot on his plate during his apprenticeship and getting to know Dooku was probably not high on his list of priorities either. And I'm thinking of the scene in the Padawan book by Kiersten White where Dooku and Obi-Wan almost meet. And how Obi-Wan spends a lot of time angsting that Qui-Gon might join Dooku and leave him and the Order behind. On the one hand, it's so sad to see how Obi-Wan, even after years, is still not feeling completely secure in his relationship with Qui-Gon, but on the other hand, it also seems like Obi-Wan perceives Dooku as a threat, as someone who could potentially take Qui-Gon away from him. Side note: I found the language and use of words rather interesting in some places … Dooku collecting Qui-Gon, Qui-Gon being lured by him … yeah, Obi-Wan clearly has some feelings about this whole scenario. That's probably why he wasn't so keen on meeting Dooku. Which is funny in it's own way, considering how Dooku later tries to lure in Obi-Wan. But as far as Obi-Wan is concerned, that seems like a strong argument that I think could explain why he's actively avoiding Dooku.

But what about before, when Dooku was still a part of the Order? Obi-Wan, especially in his younger years, always tried so hard to be a perfect Jedi. At first glance, that should absolutely motivate him to seek contact with an older, experienced Jedi, especially if said Jedi is his master's master and one of Yoda's former apprentices. It also wouldn't have been a bad idea to subtly ask Dooku for stories about Qui-Gon; that might have helped Obi-Wan with his fears and doubts regarding his master. Apparently, Qui-Gon always spoke highly of Dooku, so Obi-Wan should have no reason to dislike meeting him. But I assume by the time Obi-Wan had somehow settled into his apprenticeship and was ready to tackle his problems, Dooku probably already had his reputation as a less-than-perfect Jedi. Surely Obi-Wan picked up a story or two from other Jedi, and he certainly didn't like all of them. Perhaps Dooku already seemed to him like a darker version of Qui-Gon (or, if you want to stretch it, even of himself), and that might have kept Obi-Wan from wanting to meet him.

Bottom line: everyone's messed up and they know it.

If you actually read through all of this, thank you so much and let's take a moment to commemorate their fake family reunion!

(Bless this gif! It's so beautiful, I'm sobbing)

Would be very much interested in reading more opinions and thoughts on this topic because I'm clearly a tiny bit too invested in this!

(Edited some numbers because apparently I can't do math. Sorry. Assuming Obi-Wan became Qui-Gon's padawan around 44 BBY and Dooku left around 42 BBY, the time Obi-Wan and Dooku were both members of the Order would be 2 years at most, not 4. Makes me feel slightly better!)