#oh no THIS is the most self-indulgent one

[acerathia]

under the candlelight || Qi Yu | Rafayel

Summary:

There is only but one candle left, ine candle and him. And he was much brighter and hotter than any flame could ever be.

Wordcount: 1.7k

Read on AO3

Pairing:

Qi Yu | Rafayel / f!Reader | MC

Tags/CW:

Minors and Ageless Blogs DNI! pwp/nsfw, spoilers for 'Gem Affection', making out, literally so many kisses, and bites, vaginal fingering, piv, confessional sex bc man, lowkey fluff dkfjsdlkf, extremly self-indulgent o7

Note:

his new memory drives me insane, and i desperately needed to lick that juice off!!!

The light is dim. Rafayel has easily extinguished most candles with a simple flick of his wrist. Only one remains, lighting the distance between you two. This was supposed to be a facade, a fabricated situation to eradicate any lingering attention from outside. A soft push, your fingers tangling into the jewelry framing his torso, accentuating his body and each movement of his muscles. The heat of his skin, something much more warmer than any average person, seeps into your fingertips at the simplest of touches.

Your concentration is waning, your mind intent on only thinking about him, and him alone, keen on ignoring all outsiders and their unrelenting eavesdropping. Yet, you don’t. Rather, you begin to slowly pull away, rotating your head slightly towards the door to get a better chance to hear the ongoings outside.

Silence.

Unsure if you had succeeded in your repulsion tactic, you decide to get closer to the door to make sure. But before you could even move accordingly, Rafayel has grabbed you, pulling you much closer, your bodies connecting as you end up straddling him.

You feel the heat of your own body rise, yet you don’t pull away. You simply put your arms around his shoulders, looking down on him. Meeting his eyes, there’s something swimming in them, an inexplicable emotion darkening his gaze. You can’t help but let your eyes flick towards his slightly open mouth, plush lips soft under the candle light, inviting you to take a taste, to share the same breath.

You hesitate.

Noticing the state of your mind, a whirlwind he’s all too familiar with, he begins to speak. His voice rough and terse, so much different than the lighthearted tone he always takes on.

“Will you indulge me?”, he whispers against your skin, before his lips meet the soft junction between your jaw and your throat.

This touch draws a gasp out of you, your breath leaving you all to willingly. And his touch ignites something in you, something you’re not ready to explore yet. So, you look for a distraction, if even for a moment to allow you to sort your own mind.

Out of the corner of your eyes, you notice the gleam of the fruits, akin to jewelry under the flicker of the candle. With a small movement, the hand closest to it carefully picks one of the small fruits, guiding it towards his oh-so-tempting lips.

He looks up to you, eyelashes fluttering, but he doesn’t reject you, rather he leans closer to the fruit, taking a small nibble out of it. The juice sticks to his lips and you feel the need to lick it off for him, the need to get much closer to him than you are right now.

His breath grazes your wrist at the same moment his hand grabs it, guiding your skin to his lips. But instead of placing a soft kiss, his tongue darts out, picking up the drops of juice sticking to your skin. Your hand trembles and in a moment of weakness the fruit slips out of your grasp, only to roll down over his body.

“Oh, Your Highness, you will help me, yeah?”, his teeth scrape against your pulse point, and he must realize how fast your heart is beating for him, due to him. At the same time, you refuse to let him fluster you one-sidedly.

So, you lean closer to him, but instead of meeting him in a kiss, to taste him and the fruit, your lips tint the front of his throat with warmth. You keep traveling down, peppering small kisses over his clavicles and shoulders, teasing his nipples with nibbles, until the moment the trail left behind by the fruit starts. Slowly you begin to lick the juice off, lapping your tongue against his skin, and you feel him shiver against your touch, panting each time you suck and bite. Following the trail, you work your way lower and lower, until the fruit lays right in front of you, sitting in the dip of his hips.

You look up and despite the sparse light, you recognize the flush coating his face and neck. Yet, the most burning thing are his eyes, locked onto your figure, following your every move with uneven breath. Your eyes meet and you keep the contact as you slowly guide your tongue towards the fruit, nudging it and grazing his skin. The consequent shiver only spurs you to press your tongue against his v-line, before carefully picking up the fruit with your lips.

With your little spoil resting in your mouth, you consider going lower, hands already trailing the soft, silky material of his pants. The shadows only accentuate his situation, as he strains against the fabric, and the simple outline of his desire makes you only feel the need for him so much more intensely. Your fingertips hover over him, but before you could outright touch him, a hand grabs you, pulling you back up to him. And once again you end up straddling him. But this time it’s different, as you can feel the bulge press against you, making your insides squirm and heat up.

This position doesn’t last long, as Rafayel presses you into the bed, face hovering over yours.

“My turn, my dear,” he murmurs before dipping in to take your lips in. The fruit pops at the pressure of his tongue against yours, and the sour sweetness mixes with his taste, making you only crave more and more.

Thus, you tilt your head to deepen the kiss and grab his hair carefully to pull him in infinitely closer. For a moment, you forget where you start and where he ends, all tongue, saliva, teeth, and his taste dripping down your throat.

His hand touches your bare skin, drawing pattern over your waist, your hips, only to tug the fabric covering you low enough to expose you. You barely have time to register the change, before his long fingers dip into you, sliding into your folds, pressing against your sweet spot.

A moan escapes you, and you squirm underneath his touch. His lips have left you only to kiss your throat, latching onto the base of your breasts, slowly making his way to your nipples.

Meanwhile, his fingers work you, slowly pressing and moving in a rhythm which makes you yearn for more, as Rafayel still has to truly do more than stimulate you. Yet, you want more. The image of his slender, elegant fingers entering you ignites the heat in your lower region, and you feel as you soak his fingers.

“Rafayel, please…”, you whimper, as you try to move your hips in an attempt to seek more touch with him, in an attempt to persuade him.

He kisses the sensitive underside of your boob with a rough chuckle. “Oh, do you need me that badly? Then, should I be a good boy and give you what you desire?”

Furiously nodding, you grasp his shoulders.

“Now, you need to use your words, Your Highness,” despite his words, he slowly makes his way back up to you, even if his fingers were still moving between your folds at an agonizing pace.

“Y-Yes, please,” you burrow your face into the juncture between his shoulders and neck. At the same time, you wrap a leg around his hip, pressing you closer to him, to feel his own desire against yours, even if it’s barely a touch.

Only after hearing those words does he retract his hand, only to drag his tongue over his fingers, the ones glistening with your need for him, and you think you feel him throbbing through his pants. Even if the lack of contact makes you ache, you feel some sort of relief as he sinks closer to you, hips against hips, fabric soaking you in, indirectly conjoining you despite the flimsy barrier between you.

A sigh mingles with his breath as he kisses you over and over again, holding your lips captive between his. A faint rustle, and you can feel his heat much more prominent against your skin. But you barely get the chance to glance at it, much less admire it, as Rafayel keeps kissing you over and over again, not allowing you to catch your breath between them and his sweet nothings.

Until he stops in his tracks. This time, you’re the one not allowing him to act on his thoughts, as you give him a smile. “I love you.”

His breath gets caught in his chest, before plunging in for another kiss, whispering ‘I love you’ against your lips over and over again. Rafayel doesn’t stop kissing you, even as he slowly allows himself to sink into you, to stretch you to fully take him. So, you pant into his mouth, your noises getting swallowed by him as he returns them.

After he’s fully in you, you both just take your time, time to adjust, to enjoy the intimacy and closeness of this position, being as close as humanly possible. His hands find yours, fingers intertwining as he rests his forehead against your shoulder. You both simply breathe and take it in and feel the heartbeat of the other.

Only when you begin to shift, pressing even closer to him, does he begin to move, pacing himself slowly, his strokes careful and measured, much like he’s painting a mural out of your emotions and every gasp and moan escaping out of you.

He keeps panting your name, declarations of love and desire, kissing every single spot he can find. His lips meet your shoulders, clavicle, throat, only to tenderly kiss your eyelids, your forehead. Rafayel nuzzles his face against yours as his want takes over and the pace speeds up. His hands grab your hips to lift you slightly above the bed, making sure to hit every spot you ever desire. Freeing one of his hands, he lets his fingers wander over your sensitive folds once again, every movement in sync with each other.

With his deep knowledge of you, it doesn’t take long for you to tip over the edge, dragging him along with you.

After you both get down from your high, he continues to stay in you, to stay connected to you, as he lets his weight fall onto you. A breathless giggle escapes you, as you wrap your arms around him, nuzzling your face into the softness of his hair.

Between the continued confessions of love and desire, the single candle flickers, shining bright like a tiny star looking down on you, almost like it’s recording the absolution and conviction between you.

[pawpupster]

Kit

Back at it again y'all. Um, this one is literally so self indulgent. That's beside the point though. I'm not trying to make it fit into any movie or existing timeline and once again I'm just making stuff up bc I can. Anyway...

Paternal Logan x child!gn!reader

Summary: Young Y/N finds their way to the mansion after long travels. Once there, Charles quickly sends Logan to bond with them because they were derived from his DNA.

warnings: nothing to worry about if you watch X-men anyway.

Kit

Y/N wandered down a long path, utilizing their nose to lead them in the right direction. They knew they looked suspicious. I mean really, how many kids go around covered in blood? Not many, and if they do it's not long until they’re picked up and questioned. 

Y/N couldn't risk that though, they knew what would happen if humans saw the claws coming from their knuckles. That's why they needed to follow this scent. Y/N had been trekking the woods after escaping their parents basement for days now. No real direction or plan. Just thankful they were away from that personal hell... and that their mutation let them eat raw meat. Too many squirrels were eaten in the past few days.

It was day 16 that the wind brought along the scent of fellow mutants. Y/N was all too knowing of exactly what a mutant smelled like. I mean, you spend enough time locked up with nothing but your own senses and you pick apart what you can, in this case, your own scent. 

All the better at the end of the day though. Nothing could be worse than what they came from. Y/N just hoped they wouldn’t judge them too greatly for killing their torturer. 

A mass amount of mutants like the one Y/N could smell would either be helpful or harmful. They were confident they could hold their own enough to escape again if things took a turn for the worse, but they were banking on this group being helpful. As Y/N neared, they could begin to hear the sounds of laughter, definitely a good sign. 

Finally around the bend, Y/N was surprised to be greeted with a voice in their head. 

“Hello, young one. My name is Charles Xavier, what brings you here?”

Y/N was freaked out to say the least. Their body kicked back into flight or fight mode and they swore they could feel their muscles tighten to their adamantium bones. They didn’t know how to answer the question. Shouldn't it be obvious they wanted to be with those like them? Plus, who was this Charles to think he could crawl into people's heads without permission?

“You raise a good point, I apologize. You seem to be in a pretty rough shape. Please, let us assist you,” Came the kind voice in their head once again.

Unwillingly, Y/N began to find comfort in that voice. As they stared at the looming building, Y/N could only think of how unkind their father was. 

They doubted that this ‘Charles’ would infuse a woman's growing fetus with the last remains of the weapon x’s experiment’s DNA. Much less to then keep that child locked in his basement after it killed his wife by birth, though, staring at the mansion Y/N could admit its basement probably wasn’t as bad as the one they were in. 

“Oh you poor thing,” Y/N was once again interrupted in their own head, "we are just the place for you. I promise. You’ll never have to suffer like that again.”

Y/N looked back up at the mansion when they heard the great doors open. Out came a gruff looking man. Y/N was set on edge again as the man began making his way towards them at a quick pace. 

Scrambling backwards, Y/N ended up tripping and attempted to use their hands to catch themselves. This only resulted in them stabbing themselves in the thighs upon their landing. The scent of their own fresh blood flooding their nose is what sent Y/N into a true frenzy. 

Tears began to pour and growls rumbled in their throat as they once again were shocked with the voice of Charles in their head, “Do not fret Y/N, this is Logan. I believe you’ll find him to be most helpful at the moment.”

Remembering the gruff man once again, Y/N jerked their head up to find that the man had stopped a few paces from their position on the ground and was staring intently at the claws embedded in their thighs. 

“Hey bub, Charles” the man - Logan, they remembered - began hesitantly, looking up to see if Y/N was listening, “sent me to bring you in. He’s under the assumption you're some sort of backasswards offspring of mine.” Logan cocked an eyebrow at Y/N as he released his own claws from his knuckles, only to pull them back in after Y/N’s eyes flashed with recognition. 

They were shocked to hear gentle rumbles coming from the man. It was soothing. Y/N found themself starting to hiccup instead of sob, and their own growls lessened into small mewls. 

“Oh kit,” Logan started advancing again. Once near enough, he kneeled down and sat back on his heels, “let’s get those out of your legs and then we'll work on cleaning you up, okay?”

As the man began reaching towards them, Y/N flinched away and wrenched their claws out of their thighs to hold defensively before them. 

“Don’t hurt me, please! I’m sorry for coming. I didn’t mean to kill them I promise! I just wanted it to stop, please don’t hurt me,” Y/N desperately cried, eyes looking to their quickly healing thighs, hoping with everything in them that this man wouldn’t impale them with his own metal claws. 

“Kit, I’m not goin’ to hurt ya, and I’m certainly not gonna be the one to tell you off for doing whatever ya could to get out of what looks to be a tough situation. Lemme get you inside, allright. Inta a nice warm bath and some better clothes than these rags. How’s that sound?” The man spoke very gently, still with that kind rumble in his chest. 

Y/N looked up at him again when he gently grabbed their wrists to lower their claws. Y/N watched as he began to gently rub the pads of his thumbs over the inside of their wrists. Y/N was confused at first, until they watched as their claws retreated back into their forearms when Logan hit a particular muscle. They tried their best to not let the pain of the movement show, but they were sure Logan heard their small hiss and the smell of distress spike.

Making eye contact again, Logan reached out to grab Y/N under their arms. Overwhelmed with all that's happened over the last few weeks and especially the last fifteen minutes, Y/N’s body decided it was the best course of action to shift into their wolverine form… to the shock of Logan, Charles (who was viewing from Logans head), and the students out on the lawn who had been watching the interaction from a distance.

Logan could hear the students begin to murmur about the kit having a true animal form, and he even heard one brave kid question if Logan could do the same (he couldn't), but his main focus right now was making sure Y/N was taken care of. 

Carefully cradling the small wolverine to his chest, Logan made sure to keep up his gentle purrs as he made his way into the mansion. He was amazed by how quick a pack-like bond was forming between him and this kit. 

Stood in the foyer, Logan contemplated heading straight to Hank, but ultimately decided a bath would be of better use, especially when he knew any injuries have already healed.

With that in mind, he made his way up to his room. Nodding to the kids he passed in the hall, Logan made sure to keep Y/N out of their view and to glare at anyone close enough to hear his purrs.

Entering his room, Logan gently closed his door and then made his way into his bathroom. He gently set the small wolverine on his counter and began to fill his sink with warm water, all the while pressing a soothing hand over Y/N’s back.

“Don’t worry, we can do a bath just like this if you’d prefer,” Logan told Y/N when he noticed their beady eyes looking up at him. Instantly the kit relaxed under his hands and laid still while watching Logan gather a towel and his 2-in-1 from the shower. 

Once the sink was filled with sufficiently warm water, Logan picked up the kit and let them soak, gently petting the fur on the top of their head before cupping some water and wetting their head, being sure to wipe any from their eyes. 

Squeezing some shampoo into his palm, Logan made sure to scrub everywhere as efficiently as possible. It quickly became apparent that a second fill of water and scrub would be necessary. 

Midway through the sink filling for the second time, Logan heard Jean's voice in his head, “Is it alright if I come in? I promise I only have a spare change of clothes for the child and I’ll just set them on your bed, okay?”

Sending back an affirmative to her presence in his head, Logan made sure to keep a calming hold on the kit when they heard his door open with Jean’s scent rolling under the bathroom door and then close again as she left. 

“It’s all good, Y/N. Let’s get you finished here and into those clothes,” Logan said as he picked up the shampoo once again. 

After the water was running clean off the wolverines fur, Logan picked them up once again and wrapped them in a towel. 

“I’ll go grab you clothes and leave you to change,” Logan set Y/N on the ground once dry and went to grab the clothes Jean left. Going back into the bathroom with them, Logan made sure to warn, “these are just the school merch, so they smell a little starchy and dusty. Don’t worry, we’ll get you some new clothes soon enough.” With that, Logan left the room to give his kit some privacy. 

Y/N had no idea why this man was being so kind. Obviously he was like them, but they still didn’t expect this much care. Y/N can’t remember ever having hot water at their disposal, but Logan made it seem like they’d be getting that and so much more if they stayed here. Feeling calm enough to change back into their human form, Y/N quickly shed their old dirty clothes. Dressing into the sweats was easy enough, though they weren't sure how to keep them on, the pants kept slipping past their waist. 

Holding them up, Y/N stepped out of the bathroom and found Logan sitting on what they presumed to be his bed waiting for them. 

“Oh kit, c’mere,” Logan said as he realized they probably hadn’t had the comfort of sweatpants before. 

Slowly walking toward the man, Y/N was shocked when he gently tugged the string around their waist. At first Y/N thought he was going to tie them up somehow, but quickly realized he was just making a normal bow and their pants now fit. Y/N stared with wide eyes at Logan who only smiled in return. 

“C’mon, you can do with a nap, you look like yer about to drop,” Logan said as he stood from the bed. He pulled back the covers and began to make that rumbling noise Y/N liked so much again. 

Watching the man to make sure he wasn’t going to change his mind, Y/N crawled up into the bed and let themself be tucked in. It was then that they realized they had their own nice rumbly noise coming from their chest too. 

Y/N watched with hazy eyes as Logan made his way to a chair in the corner of the room. The final thing they saw before succumbing to sleep was him opening to marked page in a book. 

Logan couldn’t hold back his smile no matter how hard he tried to. The kit was too adorable when swamped in the logo-ed hoodie and sweatpants and absolutely swimming in his massive bed. Hopefully after a good sleep Y/N would be okay to see Hank and the Professor, but for right now, Logan was gonna let them sleep as long as they needed to. 

[diamondcitydarlin]

Alright real talk now without sassiness bc the whole anti thing against beetlebabes has me thinking about self-indulgent fantasy as a literary/storytelling device and it's something I've been thinking about with different medias lately, so this is topical ig for my current hyperfixation. Specifically I've been thinking about fantasy disavowal and the role that plays in self-indulgent/self-insert type fantasy stories, whether canon or extrapolated within fanfic. I first really learned about this concept in name from this video from contrapoints, so I have to give her credit for discussing this and explaining to me how it works in a way that blew my mind apart at the time, and I think it's the sort of thing that puts a lot of what goes on in self-indulgent fantasy stories into a different perspective, particularly when we're trying to evaluate said stories under an IRL moral microscope (and is why that approach pretty much never works or applies within this kind of story)

(Semi-long post under the cut where I mention Harry Potter as an example of a literary device- as I say within the writeup, I do not condone or support JKR or her beliefs and this is not an endorsement of her but rather a well-known example I think most people will recognize. Be aware if it's triggering for you. I also mention Twilight lol, incase that's an issue. It takes me a minute to get to Beetlejuice/Beetlebabes but I promise this is all relevant to my point, your honors)

Recently I saw a discussion within a Twilight fan group I'm in (yes I'm a Twilight fan and a rattie iykyk) about how toxic certain characters behavior would be IRL, particularly in the way several of them have a habit of making choices for Bella against her will, gifting her with things she's said she didn't want and insisting she use/wear them, etc etc. As a former Twilight hater (cuz I used to be that too many years ago!!!) I knew where they were coming from in being critical of these characters and calling them toxic, because in any other setting that would absolutely be true. Within fantasy disavowal, however, these 'toxic' behaviors are actually a way for the reader/writer (who is living vicariously through the main character) to have the main character get what they think she should have and want her to have without compromising her character or the integrity of the fantasy. Bella Swan, for example, is meant to be modest, selfless, 'not like other girls' and usually uncomfortable with bringing too much attention to herself (which makes her relatable to those who would live vicariously through her story), but of course many of those reading WANT her to have a big wedding and traditional dress anyway so that's where, for example, Alice's insistence she have those things comes into play. Yes, IRL that would be controlling, obsessive, weird, and a complete disregard of someone's wishes and boundaries but in a self-insert fantasy that tactic serves an important role to the purpose and point of the setting. WELL if you INSIST, Alice, I guess I'll just take your very generous and expensive gifts and deal with it, sigh, oh WELL!!! /s In that sense it's less demeaning and more empowering, if you're viewing it from the pov of someone wanting to immerse themselves in the fantasy.

Another example of where this is kinda used in self-insert fantasy is Harry Potter (and many others like it, and this isn't to condone JKR's terfism, this is just the example I think most people will recognize), wherein the children reading are meant to want to live vicariously through Harry and his friends and their adventures. For those children reading (and I know bc I was one once lol) the idea of being in a dangerous environment that the adults don't really shield them from entirely is very cool, it gives them a sense of independence and self-sufficiency and a sense of 'trust' from the fictional adults in their abilities to take care of themselves. From an adult's perspective now, particularly one with a child of first-year age, it's seemingly horrific how neglectful and reckless the adults in that series are with the wellbeing of the children they're responsible for (like, idk, sending a bunch of 11 year olds into the known death forest for their first detention sentence, at night, while knowing some beast is eating unicorns in said forest). But of course, within the story this constant, casual endangerment of children is never really brought up as an issue or as a reflection of some kind of immortality in the adults responsible for them as it would IRL, because it serves the purpose of self-indulgent fantasy for the children reading. It's not MEANT to be seen as a moral failing or child endangerment AT ALL so much as just the adults characters getting the fuck out of the way so the kids can have fun- unless it's like Umbridge doing it, who is established as an villain and immoral even in that setting from the jump. (And again this isn't a defend JKR post, just an explanation/example of what I'm talking about) IDK if this qualifies as fantasy disavowal perse, but it's a similar phenomenon of how behaviors -particularly those of supporting characters- can seem immoral/toxic under a real world lens but within the story serves a purpose to the reader living through the fantasy.

The way this relates to Beetlebabes for me is mostly fanon focused, but I think there are elements of disavowal in the canon as well. A lot of us who ship beetlebabes feel a kinship to Lydia in some way or another, especially those of us who watched the first film and cartoon as we ourselves were coming of age (and also probably weirdo goth kids too at the same time, I definitely was lol) and while it obviously isn't a fantasy for everyone, for a lot of us the idea of a 600-year old demon choosing and becoming obsessed with our weirdo asses BECAUSE of our weirdness is really cool actually lmao. To others, Beej pursuing Lydia so ardently against her outspoken disavowal can only be seen as intentionally toxic because they're not part of the fantasy, nor do they want to be, so seeing the merits (and empowerment) of his pursuit within this setting is beyond them. And of course, there's something to be said for the inherent nature of gothic romance as a setting, as well as the fact that movieverse Beetlejuice isn't really meant to be the pinnacle of moral direction in real life, it's meant to be a creepy, kooky dark comedy that pushes the boundaries of societal norms (not unlike what we do in the shadows). As others have said, this also isn't unlike the film Labyrinth much at all, though I RARELY see anyone coming after the Jareth/Sarah ship despite Sarah being a child in the film and Jareth being, yknow, also an ancient spirit of some kind. Perhaps because most people better understand how Labyrinth functions as a self-insert fantasy, that Jareth's obsession with Sarah is meant to be an empowering thing within that context for the young people like Sarah watching it, not an endorsement of IRL predatory behavior (ofc, Jareth being mostly a creation of Sarah's might aid with the sense of her power over the situation).

Honestly, I think it's also true for a lot of people against Beetlebabes that they identify with Lydia too, but in a way that doesn't include wanting a 600-year old demon to be obsessed with them (you do you boo, more of him to go around ig lmaooo), but instead of seeing and accepting the merits of Beej's obsession in this other kind of fantasy, they instead choose to apply real-world morals onto not only the story but the people who enjoy this story as well as their personal discomfort demands. For as much as they want to accuse others of 'not having media literacy' for shipping it, they sure jump right over the point of this literary/storytelling device. And to that end, I can't wholly blame them, because it was only within the last few years that I really realized and accepted how this works too- but I'm doing my best to explain it now, for whomever is interested.

I guess what I'm ultimately trying to say is that self-insert/self-indulgent type fantasy stories are, by design, not meant to be viewed through a real-world moral lens. The entire point of them is to transport a reader/viewer into a world where real-life doesn't apply, where someone like them is loved and obsessed over for the things that they are often disparaged for IRL and within a context where they (and the main character) still hold the reigns of control, as Lydia does over Beetlejuice time and time again (despite being a powerful 600 year old demon Beej sure lets his wife kick him around a lot, doesn't he???). It's not meant to be an endorsement or romanticization or even a depiction of IRL immorality either, as that would ruin the effect of the fantasy.

So yeah, I feel like trying to evaluate most of these stories in a real-world moral context is a fundamental misunderstanding of how this kind of storytelling works- that's not to say one can't evaluate them that way if they want, and sometimes (like other things used within the HP series) it's due, but I think it definitely becomes an issue when this 'moral evaluation' turns into one of the people who enjoy the fantasy too. The fictional flights of fancy that people like to immerse themselves into are just that; fantasy. And what's more, different people like living vicariously through different kinds of fantasies, different people are going to find different things empowering in said stories and just because one thing feels empowering for one person but demeaning to another should not mean the former person is immoral and gross in real life or would even want these things to happen in real way.

I keep trying to wrap this post up and failing, but that's basically it. I'm posting this because I know others will probably have way more intellectual insight and feedback to add about this kind of storytelling and I just think it's really fascinating to talk about. What do yall think?

[madderruz]

Something is very wrong with Lewis Smith's new body.

Cover art for my post-canon/semi-continuation fic With You At the End on AO3

[morverenmaybewrites]

I just wrote 8,000 words in two days. My brain is liquid. My thoughts are mush. :D

[fluffs-n-stuffs]

"Cuhut it out- you guys!" "Nu-uh, not until you're all perked up first! You don't want those gym challengers meetin' with an ol' mopey leader, do ya?" "Whitney's right, dear friend. No need to hide that beautiful smile of yours, alright?~"

What it takes to cheer up Johto's beloved ghost boy 👻💕

[ruelpsen]

Hhhhhhh I'm so needy and subby tonight, I just want him to stick his hand down the front of my pants and tease me for being so easily turned on, feeling me up with his chubby fingers as I mindlessly start to thrust against them in desperation. I want to beg him to use me, to fuck me, letting pure animalistic lust take over as I make it clear just how much I need him. I want him to mock me for being reduced to such a slutty mess by the mere thought of him fucking me. And then I need him to teach me a lesson. Seize me with his tentacles, restrain me, and pound into me mercilessly as I scream out in pleasure. Make sure his neighbors know what a fucking whore I am for him. Make me cum again and again and again until I lose track and then some. Force fizzy drinks down my throat and fuck belch after heavenly belch out of me, each moan that erupts into a burp further amplifying my pleasure. Treat me like his own little fucktoy, pushing me through each orgasm of my own because he has yet to reach his own final climax. And then, when he does, fucking me harder and deeper than I've ever been fucked before, fucking me to the point that all my mind knows is pleasure and the rest of reality fades away. Then, of course, he'd be ever so good with his aftercare, cradling my shaky, fucked-senseless body against his as he tells me what a good little slut I am for him. Kissing me, cleaning me up, and promising that next time will be even better.

Fuck, I need him.

[wilyzombie]

okay second head story time

[nothoughtsnoya]

various asnys ive amassed. also a vampire noya

[lieutenant-amuel]

✨Gabe Symbolism✨

[the-cat-at-the-theatre-door]

Okay, so, @sillybub asked for Sillabub and Jemima playing forever ago - how about I give you that, and also dump some other drawings on you, and the compromise is that I don’t colour any of them because I’m lazy 🙃 (Silly’s first discernable word was “’mima” - I wonder why)​

[crossbackpoke-check]

do you really believe in him? is he a good kid? no problems? you're gonna love him. you're gonna love him.

[kraviolis]

anyways i got sidetracked from what i was originally gonna post. now that im off my medication for the foreseeable future (with minor exceptions like whenever my mom shares their adderall with me) ive become more acutely aware than ever before exactly how genetically predisposed to addiction and substance abuse i really am

[designernishiki]

“ugh why couldn’t nishiki see that reina was Right There and would’ve made such a good girlfriend–” he’s gay, susan

[best-fnaf-song-competition]

Mechanisms fans!!!! Thats at least 3 here now :]!!! Hellfire is great and my personal favorite album is Once Upon A Time In Space (its the first one I heard) - [|87

HOLY SHIT

Allowing myself one (1) ask to just go fucking feral YOOOOO HOLY SHIT DUDE. THE MECHANISMS FUCK AND YOU ARE SO CORRECT ABOUT HELLFIRE I literally can't pick a favorite from high noon over camelot it changes every single time I listen to the album they all SLAP

Once Upon A Time In Space is SO fun but my favorite without a SHADOW of a doubt is The Bifrost Incident. It makes me go feral in ways no other albums have achieved before or since I get so excited I have to remind myself to breathe and it FUCKS LIKE HELL. Also lyfrassir edda my beloved I would do anything for this pathetic little detective

[kellystar321]

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