#there are only about 1500 left in the wild

[navysealt4t]

live laugh think about hawaiian monk seals and get sad :(

[portgasdwrld]

📂 Op men + them being jealous

part 1

Featuring: Monster trio (Luffy, Sanji, Zoro)

Warning: fluffy fluff, ended up being the monster trio being subtly jealous lol Ik I was going to make it suggestive but I like it better that way, might change it for the others

Note : After 200 weeks, 1500 minutes and 25 years, I’m finally posting this serie after thousands of drafts 👩🏻‍💻 y’all don’t know how many times I wrote and erased stuff 😭

Luffy

The crew just landed on a new island, it was a huge forest, not a person in sight. You weren’t particularly a big fan of walking around in an unknown deserted place, especially in the New World where you never knew on what or who you could fall.

On the other side, Luffy was absolutely fearless and enjoyed the thrill of exploring the unknown and seeing unusual creatures; Sailing was all about that for him. An adventure wasn’t an adventure if he didn’t feel that rush of adrenaline faced to a strange situation. He had insisted you come with the exploring team while you pleaded to stay behind with Robin and Usopp.

But here you were walking glued to Sanji as your boyfriend lead the way somewhere in this lost territory filled with trees and the noises of wild animals. He was screaming in excitement when he came across weird insects or odd looking vegetables. You sighed heavily as the anxiety was still heavily present in your system.

The cook adjusted his pace to match yours sensing your uneasiness about the situation. He knew you only came for Luffy, so he made sure to help you feel more comfortable in his own way.

Luffy ran forward as he noticed a beautiful blue flower tinted with yellow strokes that looked like gentle waves. He took it and searched for you with his eyes.

-This would look so pretty on your hair!

He exclaimed as he walked over to you and Sanji while waving the flower in his tan hand. You smiled as you thought it was adorable, but Luffy’s eyes quickly glared at your arms wrapped around Sanjis. He didn’t say anything and simply fixed the flower behind your ear, complimenting you with loving eyes and his cute grin.

-You look perfect!

He announced as he put his arm around your neck, naturally removing you from Sanji. A giggle left your lips as you melt into his familiar warmth. His eyes looked down at you with so much love and care, he wouldn’t want nothing to happen to you. Sanji laughed as he noticed Luffy successful attempt to get you away from him.

Your boyfriend closed the distance between his face and yours. With slightly furrowed eyebrows and serious eyes, he wondered if you were fine.

-Yeah, I just feel uneasy about walking here if I’m being truly honest. I’m not a fearless warrior like you, let’s say~

You explained calmly as you stared back into his big brown eyes. His expression softened up and he moved his arm to be able to grab your hand instead.

-Alright, then stay close to me only. I’m the strongest, so I will protect you no matter what! I promise!

-You’re sweet, thank you Luffy.

He gave a squeeze to your hand as you two followed the group through the millions of trees. Luffy smiled to himself, knowing you were relying on him to protect you now~

Zoro

It was all going well, a great night where Zoro was simply enjoying his time drinking with the others. It was all going great until he noticed a man that kept staring at you. You didn’t notice as you were busy goofing around with Usopp, enjoying a fun conversation.

Zoro felt this feeling of frustration grow in him the more he glared at the person shamelessly eyeing you like he clearly couldn’t see you were taken. That’s when it snapped for him: maybe they couldn’t tell? And that angered him even more. How can this person stare at you like a candy while he was sitting just next to you.

The swordsman pulled you closer to him, making sure his arm around your waist is noticeable. He smirked relieved when he saw the man look away with an annoyed huff. He took a sip from his beer as his smile got bigger. Zoro took that opportunity to slip a quick peck on your jawline.

You stared at him weirdly, wondering what have gotten into him.

-Wassup with you?

-I cant kiss you or what?

-Yeah, but you don’t usually do that.

-You always complain

He whined as he rolled his eye, but still he was glad that no one was hungrily looking your way anymore. You were his and he would make the possible to make it known. Even if it needed him to be outside of his comfort zone, he was going to make sure you were safe from lingering unwanted eyes (maybe to also make himself feel better)

You gave him a funny look, confused about his unusual bright expression. You pecked his lips not giving too much thoughts about it, before going back to your conversation with Usopp. You leant your body on your boyfriends that surprisingly responded to it by holding your waist tighter and rubbing his thumb against your tummy.

-You’re really acting strange, but I ain’t complaining

You said under your breath so only he could hear. He chuckled as he drank some more. You looked over your shoulder with a smile.

-Great, because you’re not leaving my side tonight.

Sanji

Hand in hand, you two walked through the village in the middle of all the varieties of shops surrounding y’all. You wanted to buy a necklace so you were hopeful to find something of your taste and Sanji was more than willing to help you.

He had already made his grocery shopping with you yesterday and organized everything late in the evening, so it was his rest day. He wanted to enjoy the sunny weather with his awesome lover on this pretty day.

It all started when the seller was proposing you multiple options at the table and he invited you to come in the store for something more refined for a beautiful person like you. Sanji didn't care, because of course you are beautiful, so it was only natural that other people would notice. He nodded excited to see what other options the man had that could fit you even better.

Sanji cocked an eyebrow when the seller pushed your hair behind your shoulders and got close to your face as he commented about you smelling good. You laughed as you thanked him, mentioning how your boyfriend bought the scent for you as you pointed at the cook. He put a gorgeous silver piece around your neck and handed you a mirror.

-What do we think?

He asked with a content expression, you stared at the mirror with a floating smile as you nodded, approving the jewelry.

-It's so gorgeous! Oh! What about this one?

You asked as your eyes flew to a more elegant necklace. You walked away from Sanji quickly as you engaged in a great conversation with the seller about the jewelries and some specific information, that your lover was honestly unfamiliar with. Sanji felt like you kind of forgot about him and started to wander around the store on his own as he kept an eye on you, still.

"...should I get into jewelries.."

It was those type of thoughts that occupied his mind as he sulked in his corner. Though, Sanji is a gentleman and he loved more than anything to see you happy and passionate, so he put his jealousy aside to let you enjoy your moment. So, he put his ego aside and started to think about which one would look hotter on you-

-Chérie, have you find something you liked?

He asked you as he wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you into him. You hummed as you looked at the other man and you both nodded, agreeing on something the cook had no clue about.

-I'm going to take this one, what do you think babe?

Sanji kissed your cheeks and whispered in your ears with a smirk.

-They all look beautiful to me, because you are stunning. I don't think I will be of a great help, my love.

You smiled to yourself, because Sanji likes whatever you wear or not. On his end, he just wanted to leave already and pamper you with kisses & hickeys all over your neck to celebrate your new necklace and maybe to let people know you were his..

[prismatic-bell]

It’s 4am and I’m having emotions about calling Mesopotamia “the cradle of civilization” so y’all are just going to have to bear with me.

Like okay, there are technically six so-called cradles of civilization: Mesopotamia, ancient Egypt, ancient China, ancient India, and two civilizations in south and Central America called the Olmec (Mexico) and Caral-Supe (Peru). But the one we all learn about in school is Mesopotamia, bleeding into Egypt.

But.

The oldest of those is the Fertile Crescent (Egypt, the Levant, Mesopotamia), clocking in around 12,000 BCE. That’s the 121st century BCE, if you’re wondering. “Behavioral modernity,” I.e. the thing that separates Homo sapiens from Homo erectus and Homo heidelbergensis, began 160,000 to 60,000 years ago. Homo sapiens was found in most of Africa before ever beginning the migration to other continents—by over 80,000 years, in some cases.

And we all know how Africa got treated in the post-Roman era.

How do we know there was no cradle of civilization in Africa? Like. It’s generally taken that “cradle of civilization” means cities, agriculture, and usually-but-not-always a writing system. We also know that if all humans on earth disappeared right now, in 15,000 years the only sign we were ever here would be a millimeters-thin line of plastic in the geologic record. And that’s in a world where we have stainless steel, concrete, the ability to carve in stone…

What I’m saying is, the oldest piece of string in the world is 50,000 years old and it was found in a cave. Huge swathes of Africa used to be green and lush. If some group ten thousand years ago decided to build a settlement out of mud bricks and tied-up pieces of wood in the African jungle, we’d never know today. The entire thing would have washed out and rotted away centuries ago. “Okay but agriculture—” one, not all agriculture is white people agriculture, and some of it is so different we wouldn’t recognize it at all (consider the terraforming east coast Native tribes did in North America that was so different from European farming methods it was taken as divine intervention in primeval forest). And two, I forget how many years it’s estimated to take before our fancy modern crops return to their wild roots once we’re gone, but I’m pretty sure it’s less than a hundred. We literally would have no way to tell anything was ever there.

And let’s say something did, by some miracle of preservation, survive to the “modern cradles of civilization.” Would it have survived subsequent wars and colonization? How about the changing climate as continents broke apart and ice ages came and went? Would we even have found it, given how gigantic it is and how little regard it’s received through the years?

Like. I could be totally wrong. But I also don’t see why it’s impossible for a civilization to have popped up in Africa like thirty thousand years ago for a century or two and then everyone went “ah, fuck this” and went back to being nomads. It happened at Cahokia. The city was abandoned and we don’t know why, but we do know there’s no evidence the mound-builders ever tried to rebuild somewhere else. And right here in my proverbial backyard, in Arizona, we had the Sinagua tribe, and in like the 1500s or so they just…dipped. There was a whole city built into the side of a cliff (two of them, actually, a few miles apart) and for unknown reasons they were abandoned. Archaeological evidence suggests the Sinagua moved northeast to join the Yavapai and Hopi tribes, but we have no idea why they left the Verde Valley. Water was still plentiful and even if Beaver Creek had started to dry up in summer—which is what it does today—only five miles away was a second city built around a sinkhole that’s still full of water today year-round (although it’s not potable by modern standards due to arsenic content in the water). Both were abandoned sometime in the 1400s for unknown reasons, and before you say “white people,” I will remind you white people didn’t come to America until 1492 and the site wasn’t discovered until over 100 years after it was abandoned.

So yeah. Maybe ancient civilizations in Africa so long ago, or so thoroughly erased by racist Europeans, that we’ll never know.

Thank you for coming to my TED talk.

[fluffyprettykitty]

Hiii, I would like to request a nsfw alphabet with nat please 😊

pairing: Natasha Romanoff x female reader (no other specifications!)

word count: 1500 words

warnings: swearing, multiple sex positions, oral sex, sex toys, basically everything and anything.

a/n: hi nonnie this took a little bit too long to make but I'm hoping you will enjoy it. I wrote Natasha mostly as a pleasure dom for this.

dividers by @firefly-graphics ​//​ banners by @maysdigitalarts

Main Masterlist ・❥・Natasha Romanoff Masterlist

NSFW UNDER THE CUT. MINORS DNI.

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Natasha is sweet and loving after sex, she likes keeping you in her arms and trying to calm down your body, caressing you and touching you gently. She might even prepare you a bath with salts and your favorite aromas to help you relax before taking you back to bed for a nice nap, soothing you.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Natasha’s favorite part of her own is of course her breasts, she knows how obsessed you can get with them and she likes teasing you and showing them off any opportunity she gets. Now when it comes to a partner she likes a girl with delicate skin because overall Natasha likes having you any way she wants and she just wants you to be the softest thing in the world.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

She likes orgasming but she likes it even better when she gets to hear you cum again and again trembling and screaming her name, nothing gives her more satisfaction, she is always going to put you first, her own orgasms can always wait for a little. 

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Natasha’s biggest secret is that she is a voyeur, she would not mind watching you getting fucked by anyone you might want, whoever it might be or how many. She’d just like to sit back comfortably on a chair and watch you get devoured again and again. 

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Natasha is extremely experienced, having long been at it. She finds sex as a way of self-expression and she’s not afraid of the naked body or anything that surrounds the world of sex.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

She likes laying down while you are riding her, strap or not, watching you getting hot and bothered at how good you feel for her. She likes to watch, she likes to feel and she likes being able to watch and observe all of you, all of your expressions. 

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

She’s humorous about the act, she will crack a joke to diffuse the tension and she will make weird noises just to throw you off the game and take control herself. She likes hearing your laugh and your giggle during the act, so sometimes she even tickles you just to spite you.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

She’s well-groomed, and always clean but she doesn’t like to be completely bare. She likes a little bit of hair there and of course, she wants her partner to be as comfortable as they want with themselves so she’s cool with anything.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Natasha is a big romantic, she will praise you and worship your body during the sexual act while completing your eyes and your hair, and your touch. She would declare big words of love and affection while she is mid-stroke staring back at your eyes before giving you a mind-blowing orgasm. 

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

She’s not one to do it often. She can always withhold her lust for later, and she prefers to share it with you. The only time she would do it would be on a call or a video call with you.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Natasha is full of kinks but one of her favourites is those latex costumes with only holes for the private parts left open. It’s something that drives her wild, having your body on display like this. 

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Natasha would have you in any way she could find you, the location doesn’t matter that much to her, she can keep you quiet wherever but what she mostly wants is just to have you, so anywhere you’d ask she’d take you. On a place, on a car, in the middle of the mall, during a fight, anywhere.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Knowing you are thinking about her and you are available to her in that way is what truly gets her going. The thought that you are thinking about her, and your pussy probably throbbing for her can make her wild for you in such a way you’d never expect it to. 

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Natasha would never do anything you weren’t comfortable with. She is not that much into edging as she prefers overstimulation but it’s not a hard no for her.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Natasha loves eating pussy. And she loves sucking a strap, she likes that she gets to be submissive like that for just a little, and giving you mind blowing pleasure through kjust the use of her mouth and lips. She knows how people feel about her lips and she likes using them to her benefit. She’s incredibly skillful at it, having long perfected the art of pleasure, knowing exactly how to hit each and every one of your nerves just for you.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Natasha is a little bit of both, she can be rough if you want her brutal and dominating and she canbe incredibly slow and sensual if she wants to drag it out. What she likes depends on the day and the mood you both had. She is a chameleon after all.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Natasha never shies away from a quickie. She wants it often and she likes watching you orgasm it puts a positive note on her day so she always pauses her day just to have a little bit of your taste.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Natasha loves experimenting with you. Taking risks and coming up with new positions and new exciting places to have you. She likes the different feels, the different clothes, and the different orgasms she could elicit out of you with just a change of her wig.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Natasha is like a well-oiled machine, her unique body upkeep and her top physical shape can help her go for hours upon hours. She could last through the whole night and she could even just keep it up till tomorrow.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Natasha owns multiple toys. Each and one of every kind and she’s known to have shopped a whole website before. She calls them her little helpers and of course, they are all for you.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Natasha is a natural tease at everything that she does. So of course she loves teasing you, kissing you when she isn’t supposed to, smacking your ass, sending nudes and teasing texts at inappropriate times, accidentally packing a vibe with her, and randomly sucking on a dildo while working up on reports. Things like that. 

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Natasha can get whiny when it comes to sex, her low voice turning a little tipsy when she wants you to touch her and she might even squeal out of pleasure when you have her. She sounds exactly like you’d expect her to sound after all that teasing she likes doing.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Natasha has longed dreamt of creating her own sex toy line based on random objects because of that element of surprise.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Her peak physical condition helps her maintain a luscious body, with well-formed breasts that hang low and big areolas that begged to get sucked, her ass is round and tender, her skin all tight and her skin the softest thing imaginable.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Natasha has one of the highest sex drives you could ever find in a human, yet she always has it under control. Part of her training, perhaps. 

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

She would fall asleep right after if only she didn’t like watching you slowly breathe in and out first, once her eyelids get to heavy she hooks her nose right on your face and falls asleep as well. 

for updates please follow my library blog @fluffyprettykittylibrary and turn on post notifications!

[drconstellation]

When Crowley met Jesus, and the other demon at Golgotha

You know the scene. 33AD. Aziraphale is watching the crucifixion take place and certain fem-presenting demon sidles up to him.

Aziraphale greets them, and finds out they have changed their name.

"What is it now?" he asks them. " Mephistopheles? Asmodeus?"

I know most you have learnt by now that Asmodeus is the demon of lust, and this is obviously Aziraphale's idea of a flirty little joke (perhaps the first we see? because he's the one who's really as "mad as bag of frogs" after all and that's why Crowley's made an appearance, because he was probably just in the area, you know...), but I haven't seen or come across much meta about the first suggested name, which is a GO "lead balloon" moment.

Mephistopheles, Aziraphale? That's the name you thought of here? Of all places? jfc...you bad, bad angel! lmoa! This is a serious, sombre situation you are witnessing!

Mephistopheles is the name of the fictional demon sent to do a deal with the character Faust in a story that dates back to Germany in the early 1500s. Faust was a like a scientist in his day, well educated in things like alchemy and astrology and other mystical arts, maybe even having wizard powers (why not?) But he was hungry for more power so he did a deal with the devil for 24 years of assistance to achieve and gain anything he desired, and at the end of that time he would be claimed by Hell. Needless to say, despite starting off well it didn't have a happy ending. (I wont go into details as there are lots of variants, and its not that short, and they aren't all that relevant to the point of the post.)

It has been a hugely influential story ever since, appearing in many forms over the years; in opera, theater, movies, novels, adaptations such as Oscar Wilde's The Portrait of Dorian Grey, and Queen's famous song Bohemian Rhapsody. Terry Pratchett also did a parody of it in his 1990 book Eric, and readers have often noted the similarity to the Hell depicted there to the Hell in GO.

Its the origin of the idiom "to do a deal with the devil" and a Faustian bargain. The mortals that enter into the deal with a powerful supernatural entity are usually set up to fail, and we go along with it because we are so used to the trope, its one we've come to expect the bargainer to fail in some spectacular fashion. It's one that keeps being repeated again and again because it so interesting to explore - often the protagonist is looking for some form of happiness, sometimes revenge, and hopes the deal will deliver, but find out the hard way that they should be careful what they wish for because the delivery is a two-edged sword. They may find out that they don't actually want what they thought they wanted, or they get what they want in an very unexpected way.

Back to Golgotha, and our demon and angel. We learn the demon has merely modified their name to Crowley. And yes, they met Jesus.

C: "Seemed a very bright young man. I showed him all the kingdoms of the world."

A: "Why?"

C: "He's a carpenter from Galilee, his travel opportunities are limited."

This is a reference to one of the the tests of faith Jesus was put through before his crucifixion, from the Book of Matthew.

I like this modern version I found:

For the third test, the Devil took him to the peak of a huge mountain. He gestured expansively, pointing out all the earth’s kingdoms, how glorious they all were. Then he said, “They’re yours—lock, stock, and barrel. Just go down on your knees and worship me, and they’re yours.” Jesus’ refusal was curt: “Beat it, Satan!” He backed his rebuke with a third quotation from Deuteronomy: “Worship the Lord your God, and only him. Serve him with absolute single-heartedness.” The Test was over. The Devil left. And in his place, angels! Angels came and took care of Jesus’ needs. Matthew 4:8-11 The Message

Or, you could say: Crowley showed Jesus all the kingdoms of the world, and offered the bargain that he could rule them all if he would renounce God and worship Satan instead, but Jesus just turned to the demonic messenger and simply told him to "fuck off!"

And there we have it, folks. Mephistopheles, and Asmodeus. Touche, Aziraphale, you sly little shit stirrer.

[puppypawprintce]

~Trapped in this Dismal Vignette~

1500 words | 1974 |

gen + snegulus + bit of inner turmoils.

cw: underage smoking, sirius bashing (theyre bonding)

Everything in the house reeks of never breaking tradition, of the walls cluttered from landing of stairs to the chandelier that hangs precariously above the large, faded-by-time wine stain on the busy carpet. It feels like when one walks through the hallway everything in existence sprouts undead eyes and it wouldn't be unlikely to spot a few thestrals once exiting the premises. It's as if things stick between the coils of life and death. Remnants of a soul burn in the two sons and nowhere else.

Walburga Black cares not for her eldest son, nor does he wish for anything more.

"Isn't your dear old brother's birthday coming up?" Less a question, and all a reason to sneer and scoff. Regulus slams his palms on the counter, the look on his face wild, then deadpan. The same gray eyes.

"Unfortunately."

"He doesn't shut up about it, he's convinced he's London's favorite doll." Severus stares from across the room with a twinge of satisfaction in his chest, it's a rarity to hear anyone agree with him. To speak and know he was in similar company. Sirius Black wasn't all that, in fact, he was below average across the board. I wish he weren't so pretty at least. Maybe if his nose were twisted just a smidge to the left. And if someone were to douse that hair in petrol.

"Even worse, in 3 months."

"I know."

"He could stand to wait til October."

And Severus has to think for a moment. Has to dig through the many layers of memories he isn't particularly interested in—he isn't interested—and there it is, the first day Autumn showed her face in the leaves and her unrelenting breeze. Sirius, the bastard all grinning and standing tall over his friends, growth spurt, lunges an arm over James' shoulder while proclaiming he wants to do something dangerous for his birthday. November 3rd wouldn't be a good day, Severus had thought.

"Their lot would kill me if they knew mine, I'm sure." Severus balances his tilted head in the palm of his hand, almost like a fateful reminisce. Though his face remains sour, and Regulus only stands to mirror.

"Potter oughta be expelled."

There's that feeling, the one where Severus thinks it be best to douse the stove and all its tangled wire before the pot can even come close to boiling over. He blinks, his breathing stiff and the line between feeling as calm as a Cokeworth boy can be to wanting to hide in the nearest quiet closet looms in between his skeleton and the subtle beating of his heart. "They would never expel Potter, he's got a whole battalion on his side."

"So do you Severus."

The boy looks at him expectantly, his hands still firmly placed and the curl on his forehead twirling to obscure the visible scar Regulus wears near his left eyebrow. An expression of mercy on his hair's part, Severus always feels guilty laying his eyes on it.

"No one is on my side Regulus, what are you playing at?"

"I just mean it would take a thousand Potters to outsmart you." Regulus moves in search through his jacket pockets. "Mum will be home soon, let's head out."

Severus hops off his place on the rickety old stool, almost on command. His feet don't reach the floor from up there, and he's glad no one ever comments on it.

"Does it hurt..to smoke?" His hands rest in the pockets of his sweater, the edges of its stitching frayed and full of holes. It's hardly sweater season yet, but Severus doesn't like when people can see his arms. And the pockets, he likes those a fair amount. They walk at a steady pace, leaving the grounds of Number 12 Grimmauld Place behind.

Regulus shoves his newly retrieved cigarette between his teeth, his perfect set of front teeth, and sets the end aflame with a careful cup of his other hand. Taking a drag, his eyes close and for a moment Severus wonders if he shouldn't be so curious. Wonders if this is a fork in the road the future him would madly scold him for.

Regulus balances his cig between his index and center. "Nah, not really."

A dense cloud escapes from his lips and rises up, disappearing into the monotone atmosphere above. It smells like it always does, bitter and strong enough to make you wanna plunge into the nearest shore just to get away from it.

But Severus doesn't run, and his eyes stay fixated on the schoolmate he's somehow managed to get along well enough to be friends with. That might kill him someday.

"Do you wanna try it?"

His heart doesn't skip a beat.

"Yes." He frees his left hand, then stuffs it right back in his pocket. Too eager. When Regulus offers him the same cigarette that had just vacated his mouth, Severus appears hesitant, and for the first time in months an odd sense of dread tears its claws into the very back of his mind. "Hold on, same one?"

"Yeah? Why not. You a germaphobe or something Sev?"

The words bounce right off him. He doesn't feel particularly strong about germs in either direction, no and it isn't like they haven't shared snacks before, or even taken sips from the same water bottle. But his mind twists and his stomach feels sick and for once in his life Severus isn't in any danger yet thinks he's looking death straight in the eyes. Petrified.

"Fire's dying." Regulus hits it again, his eyes watching Severus closely. He doesn't like the way Regulus always looks him in the eye, too near and too close and it'd take a million Regulus Blacks to get any of this out of his head. Sometimes he wonders if it's on purpose, what's his aim in all of this?

Severus makes up his mind in the same second that his friend tries to offer him the cig again, can't be too cowardice. Doesn't matter his reason, doesn't matter the fear. He tentatively holds it between his fingers and repeats the action of guiding it to his lips.

It tastes awful. Like dirt and the corroded, burnt bits of whatever got thrown into the brazier for last night's supper. Inhaling is much, much worse.

Resisting the urge to drop it on the ground, Severus hands it back and his whole body convulses into a fit of heavy coughs. His hands shake and it feels like his chest is on fire.

"Did-" he coughs a few more times. "Did you fucking jinx it?"

Regulus can't contain his amusement whatsoever, the way his giggling turns to a couple snorts and he totally drops the cigarette without even realizing. Severus looks about ready to hex the guy himself before he's met with a water bottle shoved in his face, cap already slightly unscrewed just for him.

"I didn't do shit to it Sev, you just aren't used to it."

He'd be more inclined to believe him if he didn't think his lungs were crawling with fire ants right about now. Clinging to the bottle like it was his saving grace, Severus gulps down three quarters of it without stopping. Ebbing the pain away into a subtle discomfort.

"I thought you said it didn't hurt." He wipes his mouth with the back of his sleeve and coughs again.

"I forgot you're...."

"Forgot i'm what? You did that on purpose and you know it, Black."

"Hey... hey okay maybe I knew that would happen—" Severus' eyes are glaring and narrow as nervous-to-pick-up-the-pieces words fumble out of the boy's mouth, hands raised in mock defense. "But I didn't jinx anything. That happens to everyone- it's normal!"

The betrayed Slytherin stamps the sole of his shoe on the last bits of life the stick of death had left, all embers burnt out and their fuel crushed to dust. "You're very lucky that I'm generally a fan of you."

Wind picks up and brings both of their hair to reposition around their faces, Severus brushes his back into place and Regular doesn't move a muscle. That godforsaken scar stares its dark eyes back at him, 2 dots amongst the general blob-ish shape. Taunting him, making him wish to repent.

"I didn't like it."

"Clearly.. It's okay, you would've transformed my head into a pincushion if it wasn't taking effect. Feel any better?"

He takes a second to assess it all, the way his head feels and the dissipating burn in his chest and the odd sense of anxiety that'd come over him. How he doesn't like how close Regulus is and gets, yet he doesn't mind at all. Maybe it's the latter half that makes him so queasy, everything feels like sandpaper on his skin and there's nothing he can do that would land him in better shape. Nowhere else was as safe as the right here, right now.

"I don't know."

[fullyarmoredbattlesturgeon]

signalis lore spoilers

people keep talking about the penrose 512 crashing on Leng, and i don't think people are considering the fact that... it's not possible.

normally possible, anyways.

launched from an orbital station at high speed, the Penrose ship design was never designed to carry enough fuel to carry out full accelerations, only enough to maneuver the craft once launched

the broadcast transmission at 1500 cycles explicitly mentions that by the time 1500 cycles have passed (~4 earth years), they are sitting around the edge of the Oort cloud, the massive debris field that surrounds every solar system

going roughly by the anatomy of our solar system, that means they passed leng (the farthest out labled planetoid) maybe as far as a year back from cycle 1500.

and then they keep going for at least around ~3900 odd cycles out into space (bringing the total flight time to ~5400 cycles).

that's about 8-9 years of continued travel at their approximate velocity before Ariane is put in cryo, and we have no idea how much longer Elster is alive for after that.

unless they managed to pull off some crazy mid-space orbital manuever, they would never have had the fuel to reverse their velocity and head back in the direction of the solar system, and there is never any mention of an attempt (or even desire to) return to the solar system.

we don't know if the Penrose crashes out there or just keeps flying through space, but the Penrose ever being anywhere close to Leng is.... physically impossible, barring special exception.

this also throws a serious wrench in the theory that all LSTR units are based on a decommissioned Elster (LSTR 512). The Eusan government is willing to do a lot of things, but flying a 30 odd year round trip to go fetch Elster (who they know is dead and having their brain decompose) is WILD.

yes, the original LSTR neural pattern was lost with the destruction of the central archives on Vineta. yes, the LSTR they salvaged the currently used pattern from was part of the Penrose program.

but it was probably from an LSTR unit that never launched or was part of an orbital crew working on the Penrose program ships (someone has to build them, load them and launch them, right?).

Our Elster was too long gone, and the sealed document that talks about the loss of the Vinetan archives was... packed into the luggage of the Penrose 512, before any of the events of our story take place.

so... how *does* the Penrose crash on Leng, of all places? why is it right outside of the Sierpinski facility, which Elster and Ariane were nearly assigned to all those years ago? why does Elster have to pass through the black gate to get into Sierpinski?

Ariane's desperation and bioresonance is clearly a part of it, but teleporting a ship hundreds of thousands of miles... by yourself? Elster coming back to life, hundreds of times during the time loop? Where are we even supposed to start with the fact that Ariane has clearly left the ship at the start of the game, and is only in the red-wastes version of the Penrose?

one of Falke's crayon pages talks about meeting Ariane in the red wastes beyond the gate. it's unclear when this took place, and it probably has something to do with the bioresonance tying Falke and Elster's memories together, but i can't help but think that when Falke met the Red Eye, she also met Ariane, reaching out desperately across space.

regardless, something genuinely eldritch is happening, and it's not just the flesh below Leng that's proof of something *else* going on.

[writingfics-passingtime]

Dandelions - Ruth B.

Peter Parker x reader

Thank you, @manyfandomsfanvergent 💜 This story came to me almost instantly. Hope you like it !!

Forever in Your Eyes

This drabble is part of JJ’s Mixtape - a mini series based on my followers’ favourite songs and characters. You can read more of them here!

Song Prompt: Dandelions

Pairing: (AG) Peter Parker x reader (no pronouns used)

Words: ~1500

CWs: minor swearing, mentions of Gwen’s death, some kissing

Sunset light bathes the battered desks and vinyl floors of the art studio, discussions of weekend plans and new movies hums lowly through the room; Thursday night classes had that effect on everyone, but especially those with no classes on Friday.

Those like Peter Parker - who’d only made the Friday Class Mistake once so far in his college career. The young college student, and part time masked vigilante, slides into an empty plastic chair just as the tutor enters the room.

“Portraits!” The tutor, a vibrant bespectacled man named Robin, reminds everyone of the plan for the class as he takes attendance in his head. There were only about sixteen people in this time slot so it’s an easy task.

“Your assignment was to find some portraiture you really connected with, take it apart, make it your own, I don’t need to remind you guys,” he waves a hand as a shrug. “Let’s jump in so we can all get on with our weekend. Who wants to go first for crits?”

The girl sitting next to Peter, an eager beaver named Marie, puts her hand up to have her work picked apart. And so it begins.

Person after person shares their screen to the projector and explains why they chose their setting, the subject, the colouring, why it was edited the way it was. Peter ends up being last, and he’s feeling pretty good about the photos he’d taken of you.

He’d had to bribe you, of course. Because you hated being in front of a camera but not more than you loved a burger from that place just outside of town - the place near a secret patch of wildflowers that Peter wanted to capture you in.

He’d been careful to make sure the flowers treated carefully and with respect. Then, he’d done the same with his camera-shy best friend.

You’d needed a lot more reassurance than the flowers had.

“I’m doing a terrible job.”

“No, you’re doing great,” Peter encouraged as he peaked out from behind the lens. “Tilt your head a little to the left, just a- perfect.” He snapped a few more shots before seeing you subtly squirm and draw in an uncomfortable breath. He lowered the camera and caught you in a gentle, level stare. “Hey. Just look at me.”

“You’re not the problem,” you argued and crossed your arms over yourself, “It’s that thing in your hand.”

He grinned at you. “Don’t look at the thing in my hand.” He saw you take another shaky breath in before you met his eye with an intense vulnerability.

“Yeah,” his smile softened, he pointed and clicked as he kept your focus on him. “Just keep looking at me…”

The photos turned out great, and it’s his turn to have his work critiqued.

He clicks a few keys, types in the screen-sharing code, and your face fills the large screen at the front of the room.

It’s an objectively beautiful photo of you. The colours of the earth and the flowers bring out that sparkle in your eye that Peter’s come to know as the starlight that appears when you’re laughing, or thinking of something cheeky to say in response, when you’re truly at ease and happy where you are. Your expression says peace. The flowers around you bring out something wild in your soft smile. Your stare is just above the lens, fixed on Peter.

Before he can explain why he chose this field, why he chose his best friend, Robin makes a noise of approval and turns to the class.

“Okay guys, see now this is the advantage of doing portraits with a romantic partner- with someone you have a real connection with. See that depth in the subject’s eyes, and see where the eyes are fixed? On the photographer, right? Now, that’s something that can’t be faked.”

The sun had set. The room has darkened. But Peter is caught too off-guard to worry if anyone can see the way his cheeks were burning, or the way his drying mouth was hanging open. But you don’t feel the sa-

“The trick, Peter, is going to be figuring out how you can pull this from other subjects going forward,” Robin throws the words out so nonchalantly, painfully oblivious to the way his student’s head is spinning. “Now let’s take a look at the setting.”

The rest of the feedback is a ghost to Peter. It drifts by, vacant, untouchable, warping time and reality. All he can think of is you and that look in your eyes. How long had you looked at him like that without him noticing?

Or, more accurately, how long did he notice but not really know what it meant?

Needless to say, he broke land speed records sprinting out of the building the second class ended, and ripping his skateboard down the sidewalk towards your apartment just off-campus.

Oblivious to Peter’s crisis, you pick up a fork and make your way to the fuzzy blankets calling your name. Your roommates were out and it was the perfect night for Doordash and a marathon of that show you’d been wanting to see. You settle onto the couch, ready to press play, when you hear a frantic knock at your front door and Peter shouting your name through it.

“I know you’re in there!” He yells, still pounding. You lower your brow and practically vault over the couch trying to get to the door before he breaks it down with his fist.

“I’m coming! Jeez, Pete!” You yell back right before your fingers flip the deadbolt and you pull the door inwards. “What the hell’s the matter with y-”

“How long?” He demands, waging a glare so intense you suddenly feel like you’ve done something super wrong. Your mouth falls slack as Peter brushes past you to enter your apartment.

It takes you a moment to recover, to try and put together what the hell he was on about, and by the time you realise that he’s out of line coming in here with vague accusations, so you close the door and turn to face him, you’re met with the sight of his open laptop screen on your kitchen counter.

It’s a photo of you, from the wildflower fields. Something deep in you wants to internally cringe but… it looks real. Honest.

When you meet Peter’s eye, he looks the same way. Except there’s something desperate in his gaze.

“How long?” He repeated, breathless and wanting.

You open your mouth to respond and quickly realise you don’t know how to. Thankfully, Peter fills in the blanks.

“How long have you been in love with me?”

It’s a punch to the gut. That question. It sucks every bit of air from your lungs, from your throat, tears spring to your eyes and you don’t really know why. Maybe because it’s so out of left-field and you have no time for any other reaction. Maybe because of the despairing way he was looking at you, and you had no idea why he’d be doing this.

“Peter, please,” you choked out. It was useless to lie to him. “I’ve never expected anything more from you, I’m happy with-”

He takes a step forward. “How long?”

You cover your eyes with the heels of your palms and sniff in a cry. “I don’t know. A while, I guess.”

You feel him take another step towards you and you’re sure you’re done for. He’s going to step around you and walk out and never come back and-

“We’ve wasted so much time,” his gentle whisper comes. His touch comes too, weaving through your own, tugging your palms from your eyes just far enough for him to place his hands, cradling either side of your face.

You brave meeting his eye, and… peace.

Your shoulders release their tension, your jaw unclenches, your hands find rest around his wrists. In a feeble attempt to explain, you mumble, “I didn’t know if you were ready.”

The metaphysical mention of Gwen sends a bolt of grief through Peter’s heart. But it’s a grief he’s grown to greet like a friend; one that will always be with him, one that wants him to grow.

His thumb traces the warm blush on your cheekbones, wiping away a tear in the process. He didn’t do this right. He should’ve done this better but the pain and recognition and the want all melded into one and-

He stops overthinking and doesn’t waste any more time.

Peter ducks his head and kisses you like it’s the easiest thing in the world. Like he already knows the contours of your skin, like he’s memorised the steady beckoning in your breath.

He’s a welcoming home. Under his hands, you find a refuge. When he steps into you, closing the space between your bodies, the heat of him is an all-encompassing embrace. You kiss him like it’s something you’ve done a thousand times before. It feels so right. The taste of forever is sweeter than any time you’d ever dreamed of it.

Because this time it’s real.

[skyward-floored]

A piece of paper frayed from travel and contact reads: “On a family outing, one of the boys finds themself very lost.”

I considered writing this with a couple boys, but finally settled on Wild and ended up writing almost 1500 words. These keep being longer than I mean to make them!!!

Why did I even bother with a word limit XD

———

Wild looked up at the sea of people moving past him, looking wildly around for where his parents had gone.

He’d only let go of his mom’s hand for a second— there had been a ladybug about to be stepped on, so Wild had grabbed it and safely carried it to a nearby flower stand where it would be happy and not squished.

But then he’d looked back to grab Malon’s hand again and there had been no sign of his family.

Wild bit his lip, feeling his eyes start to water as the crowd jostled him along. The urge to use his speed and merely run until he found his parents again was powerful, but he knew that would only make things worse. Somebody would definitely see him, and that would be really bad.

What could he do to find them? What if he never found them?

What if somebody bad found him?

The crowd suddenly parted a little, and Wild took the opportunity to run (no super speed) through the gap, dodging people left and right. He wasn’t sure how far he’d gone before he found suddenly himself in a little out-of-the-way plaza, with a fountain in the middle of it.

The crowd was way less crazy over here, and Wild sighed in relief, still feeling scared, but better now that he wasn’t nearly being crushed by people. He wandered over to the fountain and climbed up on the side, peering at the water flowing by. Coins people had thrown in shone in the sunlight, and Wild admired them, noticing his reflection wobbling on the water above them.

His face looked funny in the ripply water, and Wild smiled, turning to poke Twilight so he could show him... but then he remembered his brother wasn’t there, but back with wherever his parents had gone.

He was alone.

Wild sniffled, his eyes watering, but he stubbornly blinked back the moisture. Only babies cried, like Wind, and he wasn’t a baby. He was just...

Lost.

“Are you okay?”

Wild jumped, nearly falling back into the fountain behind him at the question.

“Oh sorry!” a girl about his age apologized, waving her arms. “I was sitting over there and saw that you looked really sad, I wasn’t trying to scare you.”

Wild didn’t reply, but he did manage to smile a little at her, wordlessly telling her it was okay.

“Can I sit with you?” she asked, and Wild nodded, watching as she climbed up onto the fountain’s edge next to him.

She brushed off her blue skirt as she settled in, and smiled at him, with a smile so nice that Wild didn’t feel quite so terrible anymore.

“So are you okay?” she asked again once she was settled, and Wild nodded, quickly wiping away the tears that had been forming in his eyes before the girl could see them.

She tilted her head as she studied him, and Wild suddenly felt rather self-conscious as her green eyes looked over his scars. But she didn’t linger on them long, instead thrusting a hand out towards him.

“I’m Zelda,” she said abruptly. “What’s your name?”

“...Wild,” he answered shyly, hesitantly taking her hand and letting her shake it.

“That’s a funny name,” Zelda giggled. “Oh— but I like it!” she added on when Wild’s face fell. “It’s unique.”

Wild didn’t know what unique meant, but Zelda was smiling so he assumed it must be good.

Her smile fell after only a little while though, and she sighed as she looked up at the water falling into the pool behind them. It was quiet between them for a moment, and Wild swung his legs, watching Zelda watch the water.

She seemed sad for some reason, but he wasn’t quite comfortable enough with her to ask why yet.

...Maybe she was lost too?

“I’m lost,” she suddenly admitted, almost like she’d read his thoughts. “I can’t find my daddy anywhere, and I’ve looked all over. Have you seen him? He’s pretty big, and has a big beard too.”

Wild shook his head apologetically. He hadn’t seen anyone like that, or at least, he didn’t think he had. There had been an awful lot of people around after all.

Zelda nodded, her face falling. “Okay. Thanks anyway.”

Wild frowned as she let out a sniffle, and he swallowed back the lump that was still in his own throat. She looked really sad now, and that... bothered him.

He guessed he’d have to talk.

“I’m lost too,” he admitted in a quiet voice, and Zelda looked at him in surprise. “I saved a bug from being squished and my family kept going. I don’t know where they went.”

He patted her hand, and smiled a little.

“We can be lost together?”

Zelda blinked at him, then gave him a watery little smile, squeezing his hand in return.

“Okay. We can be lost together,” she agreed, sounding less upset. “That sounds much better than being lost by ourselves. So what kind of bug did you save?”

Wild paused, a bit surprised at the question. “...A ladybug?”

“Ooh, what color was it?” she asked, her eyes brightening. Her previous sadness seemed to be gone, and Wild felt a swell of happiness at the smile that was forming on her face.

He told her all about the ladybug as they sat by the fountain, Zelda excitedly asking him even more questions when he mentioned a different colored ladybug he’d seen last week.

...bugs cheered her up, apparently.

Once he finished, Zelda began telling him about some of the different bugs she’d seen too, and the different plants they’d been on. Some of them seemed to like different plants better, she said, and Wild listened in rapt attention until the sun was high above their heads.

“Wild!”

His head shot up at the distant shout, recognizing Malon’s voice. Zelda looked over at him as he quickly got to his feet, and he motioned her over.

“Is that your family calling for you?” she asked, and he nodded eagerly, taking her hand in his. “That’s great! Let’s go!”

Wild grinned, and began to pull her towards where the shouts were coming from, and Zelda followed eagerly after him, the two dodging the crowds that tried to separate them. The shouts were more difficult to follow in the middle of the crowd, but Wild did his best, Zelda holding tightly to his hand all the while.

“Zelda!”

Wild and Zelda both froze, and Zelda stood on her tiptoes, looking over the crowd.

“I see my daddy!” she said with an excited smile, and Wild returned it. “Come on!”

She began to tug Wild away, but then he heard his own name being called again, coming from the completely opposite direction. He pulled Zelda to a stop, and tilted his head meaningfully away from them.

“Oh... I guess we have to go in different directions,” Zelda said sadly, face falling. Wild nodded, and Zelda sighed, her ear twitching as her name was called again. “Well thanks for being lost with me Wild. I hope I see you again!” she said with a smile, and gave his hands a squeeze.

“Me too,” he replied, returning her squeeze.

They smiled at each other for another few moments, then separated, and Wild ran off towards his parents’ calls, glancing back once just in time to see Zelda smiling as she was pulled into the arms of a large bearded man.

He smiled and kept following the sounds of his name being called, dodging feet and swinging arms. He stumbled through another gap in the crowd, and suddenly saw a familiar scar over an eye and a shine of red hair.

“Wild!”

Wild bolted, unable to stop himself from running a little extra-fast straight into Time and Malon’s arms with a relieved cry.

“Wild thank the goddess— where have you been?” Time asked as Malon frantically looked him over, running a hand over his head and face. “We’ve been looking for you for more than an hour, we didn’t have any clue what had happened—”

“Sorry,” Wild said into his shoulder, feeling utterly relieved as Malon looked him over. “A bug almost got squished so I moved him, but then you guys were gone and I couldn’t find you anywhere.”

“You were gone that long because of a bug?” Legend said from somewhere nearby, and Wild heard Time let out a long sigh.

“Don’t you ever do that again young man,” Malon said sternly, but Wild could hear the relief in her voice as she kissed his head. “Goodness. I knew we shouldn’t have come to castle town today.”

“Where were you all that time Wild?” Twilight asked, his voice relieved too.

“With a girl,” he replied simply. “She was lost too. But she’s okay now.”

“A girl?” Twilight asked, but Wild just shrugged, tucking his face into Time’s shoulder without replying. He’d talk to Twilight later, but he wasn’t really in the mood right now.

He was just glad to be back with his family again.

[the-puffinry]

today's sketch is of Mindanao Lorikeets (Saudareos johnstoniae)! I love their mischievous look. :)

They're native to the island of Mindanao in the Philippines. Only about 1500 of them are left in the wild because of habitat loss and trapping for the pet trade.

Neocolor oil wax pastels and marker, 04/03/2023.

here is a video of them in the wild

and up close in a german zoo.

[inventedfangirling]

thinking of how thailand is over 513000 square km and Bangkok the capital city is over 1500 square km and yet dissaya decided to move into a house within a 0 km radius of the house ming lived in. or she decided to not move out when ming moved in next door.

im putting dissaya in the driving seat here because we know that ming doesn't exactly know that dissaya knew that he took her scholarship opportunity away so he was under the impression she drifted apart randomly and continued to nurse an unreasonable amount of hatred for a person who left a friendship with no explanations

whichever it is, its wild to me that she took so much efforts to ensure that pran stay away from pat and yet she didn't think of not even putting them in the same vicinity in the first place? tempting fate much?

and also the fact that the houses are literally attached together, the parts between pat and pran's rooms not even separated by a proper wall?? like come onnnn who decided upon this? why would sworn enemies buy such attached houses!??

OR were ming and dissaya neighbours from childhood, so they grew up in these houses and that's how they became friends too? and now pat and pran grew up in the same house their parents grew up in? oh dissaya, you should have known that wouldn't have worked.

while on that note if her decision to stay neighbours was intentional then i think it would have been even more diabolical if she egged on pran to be friends with pat only to betray him like ming did to her, but i guess even she has her limits lol (or ofc she might be so traumatized from the betrayal that she can't even imagine putting somebody else through that AND the possibility that somehow pran could still end up getting hurt in the process too might have stopped her) eitherways its interesting to think about the choices that led the story to where it went.

***

ooh found this excellent and very plausible explanation that ties up this loose end here , all thanks to the brilliant @telomeke-bbs ✨️

[mlmxreader]

Disobedient | Sierra Six x m!reader (🍋)

Anonymous asked: "You're really going to disobey me?" Smut with sierra six?

summary: you and Six have a set of rules that must be obeyed, but you’ve always loved breaking them and being disobedient. 

tws: Daddy kink, choking, swearing, anal sex, top!Six, dom!Six, praise kink 

word count: 1500

MINORS DNI 

Usually, when Six wasn’t around, you would break the rules that you had set with him, knowing that he wouldn’t find out; you would indulge in the things that you knew would make him growl and tell you off about doing, knowing that you were disobeying him only ever egged you on and made you more eager to do it, knowing how fucking wild it would drive him if he ever knew. Sometimes you would tell him, when he called you or when he texted you, you would openly admit what you had done and you would wait in excited anticipation for him to get home and let you know what he thought about you breaking the rules. You loved that, though, you loved that you could push his buttons even when he was a thousand miles away, and he never forgot either; you could break the rules on the first day he had gone, and even if he was gone for a month, he would come back and show you exactly what he thought about it. You loved that, you loved that you and Six had that type of relationship; a retired assassin and the Grey Man, a rule breaker and a punisher. 

He had only gone shopping when you had decided to break the rules; looking at some nude pictures of him on your phone as you pulled your cock out, slowly teasing yourself with your hand until you were hard. You bucked your hips into your hand, growling softly as you got yourself going, breath getting heavier as you bit at your bottom lip and moaned his name under your breath. You didn’t even realise he had come back by the time you were so fucking close to cumming, until he stood at the end of the bed, head tilted slightly to the side and his eyes narrowed as he shook his head. 

You stopped, your cock aching for release as you moaned softly and withdrew your hand. “Daddy, don’t-” 

“You’re really going to disobey me? Break my rules?” He grumbled, clenching his jaw. “I thought I told you, don’t touch yourself while I’m gone.” 

“Please…” you whimpered, bucking your hips against nothing as you licked your lips and let your phone fall to the bed. 

Six looked at the screen, a smile on his lips when he looked back at you. “You were getting off to pictures of me?”

You nodded. “Yes.” 

“Good boy,” he purred. “I guess you’ve been good enough for the real thing - if you want it.” 

You nodded eagerly, but when you were told to use your words, you almost thought for a second that your voice wouldn’t work, so fucking eager and needy that you could feel it in the back of your throat. “I want it, Daddy, please.” 

“Go sort yourself out,” Six’s voice left no room for argument as he nodded towards the bathroom. “Be quick about it.” 

You knew what you were doing, you had done it a thousand times before, but while you were busy with stretching your asshole a little bit and lubing yourself up, Six took the time to undress; he laid down on the bed, but soon moved up so that he was propped against the headboard, stroking his cock until he was leaking precum, soft grumbles leaving his lips. He had a lot more self control than you did, as he spread his legs and waited for you; he dared to smile when you came out of the bathroom, biting down on his lip. 

“You want Daddy to fuck that little asshole of yours?”

You nodded, clearing your throat and swallowing thickly. “Please.” 

Six tapped his thigh all of once, watching with a soft hum as you got up on the bed and lined yourself up with his cock; he took your hand in his, bringing it to his chest, just above his heart, as he nodded at you. Slowly, you sank down on him with a curt and quiet moan; Six was always gentle at this point, giving you the time to adjust to his size before he started to buck his hips, a sick smile coming to his face. 

“This better than looking at pictures?” He asked gruffly, his other hand going to your ass, digging his fingertips into the soft flesh. 

You nodded, taking his arm in your free hand and bringing it to your throat as you matched his pace, rocking your hips in time with his. “Please, Daddy, choke me.” 

Six wasn’t one to deny such a sweet and soft request as that, putting his hand around your throat and applying enough pressure to make you gasp softly; Six was still being gentle as he bucked up into you, hitting that sweet spot of your ass that made you nearly double over, the hand on his chest pressing down as you tried to keep yourself upright. 

“Such a good boy,” he praised, his voice still so fucking low and so fucking gruff that it was only driving you on even more. “Riding my cock so good.” 

You couldn’t help it, moaning his name and biting down on your lip as you put both hands on his chest, arching your back a little as you let him choose the pace; he picked it up a little, not much, but still being so fucking gentle with you as he choked you a little harder and looked at your cock, a smile coming to his lips. Fuck, Six loved it when you bounced your ass on his cock, always so fucking tight around him, always such a fucking good boy for him and him only. 

“Will you disobey me again?” He groaned, and when you shook your head, he let go of your hand, and gave your ass a firm smack. “Use your words like a good boy.” 

“No,” you moaned softly. “I promise, I won’t break the rules again, Daddy.” 

“Good boy.” Six tilted his head back a little, picking up his pace so it was still quicker again, but still not quite being rough with you. He was only ever rough when you asked him. Fuck, the feeling of your ass around his cock was good. 

You weren’t sure how much longer you could last, the way he was fucking your ass was driving you wild, and mixed with the way he choked you and how he praised you, you were certain that you wouldn’t be long; you knew you couldn’t last forever, but you were already so fucking horny beforehand that you almost felt overwhelmed and overstimulated. Fire seemed to burn through your veins, making you break out in a sweat that covered your body, your cock aching as you tried to fuck yourself on his cock, as you tried to get as far as you could; Six was all too happy to help you with that, though, keeping his pace quick but gentle, using just enough pressure on your throat, and letting out praise after praise, knowing how it got to you and knowing how it drove you fucking wild. He knew that you weren’t going to last long, he knew it better than he knew how much you liked to be praised, but he kept at it, not hesitating for a single second, and when he knew you were right at your tipping point, he dared to let out the words that he knew you wanted to hear so badly. 

“Be a good boy and cum for Daddy.” 

You went over the edge, snapping your hips in a sloppy and uncalculated way, doubling over a little more so that your cum shot onto his skin, whimpers and moans and grunts and growls leaving you as you fucked yourself on his cock, panting out his name over and over; always the gentleman, Six was more than happy to keep going, riding you through your release until he started to achieve his own, pumping your ass with his cum as he continued to praise you, revelling in how your voice went hoarse and how you begged for him to fuck his cum into your ass until he couldn’t anymore. He was more than happy to indulge such a thing, breathless and panting as he grunted and growled and groaned, his chest heaving and his breath nearly running out; he rode himself through his release, and groaned softly when you got off of him, flopping onto your stomach beside him. 

“Fuck,” you breathed out, your mouth feeling dry. 

Six groaned, reaching out for you and running his hand up and down your back, not caring how your sweat stuck to his skin as he dared to clear his throat and speak. “You okay?”

You nodded, daring to smile lazily at him as you cleared your throat and tried to catch your breath. “Yeah, just… fuck.” 

He smiled, nodding and licking his lips. “You wanna come take a shower with me? Get cleaned up then grab something to eat?”

“Yeah.”

if you liked this fic, REBLOG IT - you SHOULD reblog it; if you don't wanna reblog, then you'll get blocked; reblogging is the BARE MINIMUM. don't just "like", REBLOG

[ikeromantic]

Dancing with the Devil

Lucifer takes Jenn to the mortal world for a date. This story follows Bedeviled Feelings and is a commission featuring the OC Jennifer. Shared with permission of the requestor. Approx. 1500 words

Lucifer felt quite satisfied with himself. He watched Jenn’s expression light up as she ran to the window to look out at the city below them. They were in the pent-house suite at the best hotel in the city, and the view was breathtaking. He had a soft spot for beauty in the mortal world, but it was Jenn’s reaction that made it worthwhile.

“Better than riding lessons?” He came up to stand beside her, and slipped an arm around her shoulders.

Jenn gave him a teasing look. “Mmmm, I don’t know. I’ll have to think about it.” She looked back out the window with a pleased sigh. “It will be nice to have the whole weekend with just the two of us. Barring any Devildom emergencies.” 

Lucifer thought back to Mammon’s face when he’d told him what would happen should any of his brothers cause a problem over the next few days. “I don’t think anyone will bother us.”

She laughed. “Good. Because I plan on enjoying room service, the giant tub, and that huge bed. Seriously, I could fit three of you in there! This whole room is sized for orgies.”

“You couldn’t handle three of me.” He nipped her neck. “And I’m not sharing you so no orgies.” 

Jenn pretended a pout. “So it’ll be just the two of us in all this space for three whole days?”

“Not quite.” Lucifer grinned. “Tomorrow night, we’re going dancing.”

Her expression was not quite the joy and excitement he’d hoped for. “Dancing?” An eyebrow went up. “Do we have to?”

“Yes.” He turned her to face him. “You will enjoy it. I promise. I am a very good dancer.”

“Pffft.” She frowned. “Dancing is stupid. I’d rather go shopping. Or just watch tv.”

Lucifer felt a flicker of annoyance for a heartbeat. He’d arranged a private club and a world-renowned DJ, he’d picked out a dress, set up catering . . . and she’d been more excited to go riding with Mephistopheles. Then he realized she was hiding something. 

“Jenn. Do you not know how to dance?” 

She gave him a hard look. “Of course I know how. I practice Capoeira and that’s a dance. I’ve been clubbing before!” 

He smirked, slipping a finger under her chin. “Ballroom dancing, Jenn. Have you ever waltzed? Danced tango? Salsa?” He shifted his hips. 

“No.” Jenn met his gaze reluctantly. 

“Don’t you want to try something new? Learn something you don’t already know?”

She blinked. “I - Luci, I don’t want to look like an idiot. Worse, in front of you! I’ll just step on your feet and fall over myself and - I don’t know . . .”

He leaned forward and gently kissed her lips. It was a struggle not to do more. But he prided himself on control and on always knowing what Jenn needed from him. “You never look like an idiot to me.” He stroked her hair. “But if you really don’t want to -”

“No. Wait. I . . . it could be fun. You just have to promise not to laugh, ok?” 

Lucifer kissed her again. “Only with you, never at you.” He could understand her desire. It was his very own sin, after all. 

Jenn kissed him back and after that, there weren’t a lot of words. It turned out the giant bed was exactly the right size for just the two of them though it squeaked fiercely at points. A sort of auditory ‘do not disturb’ sign for staff. 

The next day, the couple left the hotel, feeling smug and satisfied. They arrived at the club Lucifer reserved and stepped inside. The DJ wouldn’t arrive for hours and they had the place to themselves. Lots of time for Lucifer to teach her the basics. 

He went and set up the music while she wandered around the building, laughing at the mirrored ceilings and hanging cages. “This place must be wild when it’s open.”

“I suppose. I chose it for the name.” He pointed to the writing over the top of the bar, gold neon lights against a black background. ‘Lucifer’s’ 

Jenn grinned. “Does that make you part owner?”

“I hope not. I would never hear the end of it from Mammon and Levi.” He clicked play on the list of songs he’d chosen for them. All safe for human ears. Music sounded from the hidden speakers all around them. 

Lucifer walked to the dance floor, a ridiculous set of glass blocks with what looked like fire beneath them. He held out his hand. “Come, my love.”

She came, though she looked as if she might be having second thoughts. 

He took her hand and pulled her into position. “Chest up. Hips tucked.” Lucifer looked her over, and gently pushed her shoulders down and back. “There. Now.” He whispered a charm for grace as his hands settled on her. Then, with a smile he led her through the steps of a basic waltz, moving slowly and with the confidence of a long-time dancer. 

Jenn was tense at first, her body stiff. But as the song played on and she didn’t not stutter or fall, she began to relax into it and even enjoy it. “This isn’t so hard.”

“Is that so?” He changed the steps as the next song came on, a faster beat with a more complex set of quick motions. The charm kept her in time with him and she laughed with joy. 

By the time the charm wore off, she was picking up skill and genuinely enjoying herself. Lucifer spun her, tossed her, and then caught her in a dip. As she came back up, she stepped badly and fell into him. He fell back, tripping over the tangle of her feet with his. He landed on the dancefloor with her sprawled atop him. 

Jenn’s face was flushed with exertion and embarrassment. “I knew I’d end up falling. I’m sorry.” She looked like she might cry. “We were having so much fun and I just . . . I guess I wasn’t paying attention to where I stepped.”

“It’s fine.” 

“Sure. I bet you land on your ass every time you dance.” She rolled her eyes. “I’m just not good at this.” She started to get up, but he grabbed her hand to keep her there. 

“It is a skill, and like most skills, you must practice. For this being your first time, you did well. Very well.” Lucifer gave her an almost-smile. “Do not take my praise lightly.”

Jenn sighed and slumped against him. “And I suppose that was all me and had nothing to do with the charm you cast at the start?”

He hadn’t expected her to notice that. “It appears I’ll have to try harder to bespell you in future.”

She laughed. “I guess you need to practice that skill, hm?” 

Lucifer grinned. “Perhaps. Now, we best get up or the DJ will walk in on us practicing an entirely different kind of dance.”

“The horizontal mamba?” She smirked and wiggled her hips. “The titty tango?”

He gave her a warning look. It wasn’t part of his evening plan to make love on the floor of the club, but plans could change. 

“Fine, fine.” She sighed and then stood up. “If the DJ is coming, shouldn’t I go get ready?”

“We both should. There are dressing rooms in the VIP lounge. And champagne. I wasn’t sure what you liked.” He paused at the admission that there was anything about her he didn’t know. 

Jenn grinned. “Let a lady keep some mystery, hm?” Then she sauntered off with a spicy last look tossed over her shoulder. 

Lucifer decided to let it go for now. He would get the information from her later, when she was in a more vulnerable position. Preferably tied. Splayed on his bed. Desperate from his teasing touch . . . he swallowed, feeling suddenly a bit too warm. His clothes just a touch too tight. Dancing. They were here for dancing. There would be more than enough time later to sate his other desires.

He changed his own clothes with a spell, turning them into a human world tuxedo. He could never understand why mortals felt the need to have nine parts to what should have been a simple suit. Nevertheless, he thought he looked rather good in it.

Not as good as Jenn did when she came out of the dressing room though. The gown he’d commissioned came to her mid thigh, ruffles shifting and moving as she walked, a bit of  lace peeking from the edge. The top clung to her breasts as if molded to them, the thin silk showing every inch of the skin it covered. And the colors were perfect for her. A light mist-blue at the top that sank into midnight hues at the bottom, with a smattering of tiny rain-drop gems that caught the light. 

She was breathtaking and she knew it. He could see the pride and pleasure in her gaze as she enjoyed his hungry look. “So . . . are you going to take me out dancing?”

“It would be my pleasure.” He handed her a glass of champagne. 

“Even if I fall and take you down with me again?” 

Lucifer’s eyes burned with an unholy love. “There is no one else I’d rather fall beside.”

[nbwitzler]

Who Was The Goddess? Or Goddess Who?  Part 1: Lilith

So, I decided to bring here some discussions that I am raising in other media and that might interest people here! It's about witches, and witchcraft, and ancient goddess... I think it's quite nice!

I've noticed that there has been a growing interest in paganism, witchcraft, magic and mysticism, and it happens to be my research topic, so... I've decided to do a series about the myth of the Furious Horde (or Wild Hunt) and the goddesses that surround this mythology! Shall we?

Somewhere around in the 19th century - that is, from 1800 on - historians and anthropologists began to take an interested in the processes of witchcraft and sorcery that took place centuries before, back in 1500, 1600, and some of them raised the hypothesis that those accused people were performing much older cults and rituals, from a pre-Christian era and that they would have survived until that time. In particular, those people would be worshipping some pagan goddess and that this would have been the final straw to turn this "goddess" and her followers into witches. But what about today, can we also come to these conclusions or even find this "goddess" and her cult?

And as the candidates are many, I will talk here one by one!



Lilith

She is not only a pagan goddess, and a very strong candidate, but she is growing popularity to this day.

So back in Mesopotamia, around 2000 B.C. we find a category of demons, male and female, which were called "Lil". They were erotic demons that invaded the dreams of both men and women, and in the course of time they were also represented as a danger to pregnant women who were giving birth. A Phoenician text from the 7th century B.C. tells of an exorcism of a "flying Lili in a dark chamber".

And even in the Hebrew Bible there is reference to a Lilith in Isaiah 34:14, which says:

Wildcats shall meet with hyenas, goat-demons shall call to each other; there too Lilith shall repose, and find a place to rest.

It's interesting that I found a website that says it translates the Bible straight from the Hebrew, and in that passage they translate "Lilith" as "ghost," and then if you go into the description of the term, they put lîylîyth (lee-leeth')

- "Lilith", the name of a goddess known as the demon of the night who haunts the desolate places of Edom 

- It could be a nocturnal animal that inhabited desolate places

So at this point this “Lilith” is still this demon or just a nocturnal creature, that was flying around like a bird haunting people's dreams (save this information for the future). This fear of the liliths, or the lilin remained in this region of the Middle East until after Christ, and we can find some representations of what these female demons would look like: a naked young woman, with long flowing hair and with her breasts and genitals prominent; it was the aggressive and animalistic sexuality, the opposite of what female behavior should be. 

Alphabet of Sirach:  anonymous medieval text; compilation of two lists of proverbs, 22 in Aramaic and 22 in Hebrew, both arranged as alphabetic acrostics

But in the 8th century, in the Jewish text the Alphabet of Sirach, Lilith for the first time appears not as a category, but as a proper name, a unique being. She would be Adam's first wife and became integrated into Hebrew mythology. God would have created Adam and Lilith at the same time, but she would not have accepted to submit to Adam, since both had been created together and in the same way. 

Hieronymus Bosch, The Garden of Eden. Left panel from The Garden of Earthly Delights. 1504, Madrid, Prado.

Upon realizing that Adam would not give up, Lilith flew to the Red Sea, where she met several demons and joined them, generating an offspring of more than 100 demons a day. Adam then allegedly went to complain to God about Lilith's escape, and God even sent angels to bring her back, but in vain. In her fury, Lilith would have promised to wipe out all of man's offspring as revenge. From then on, she became one of the most feared demons in Jewish culture, with the fame that she was responsible for the sickness and death of babies, especially unbaptized ones. 

Throughout the Middle Ages and the modern period, this story became very popular first among the followers of the Kabbalah, but quickly spread and began to populate the stories of Christians as well.

Eve and the serpent de Vérard 1493-1494, Le Mirouer de la Redemption de l'umain lignage Paris: Vérard, fol. 2v

But we do not find, throughout the Middle and Modern Ages, any evidence of any kind of cult dedicated to her, or indication that she could be seen in any positive way. Everything we find related to Lilith are actually spells of protection against this demon, so they are spells of mothers protecting their children, or spells for women in childbirth, i.e., seeing Lilith really as a demon that people should protect themselves from.

But nowadays Lilith has gained a new prominence not as a feared demon, but as the representation of a woman who did not accept to submit to the will of man and went out in search of her own story.

Sources:  Ronald Hutton, " The Witch: A History of Fear, from Ancient Times to the Present”. Yale University Press, 2017 Hilário Franco Júnior, "A Serpente, espelho de Eva.  Iconografia, analogia e misoginia em fins da Idade Média" ( The serpent, mirror of Eve. Iconography, analogy and misogyny in the end of the Middle Ages). Medievalista, Number 27, 2020. 

[adelindschade]

Another AU I have no energy to write but an AU I love nonetheless, inspired by What We Do In The Shadows (FX Series) w/ TVD/TO face inspirations.  

Reincarnated Human Feyre being taken in by her estranged ancestor - 500 year old vampiress Nesta, a French aristocrat turned destitute peasant, who introduces herself as Feyre’s sister. She married young, turned young violently, killed her husband, killed her creator, and watched her sister die in child birth, and languished on earth as a ‘bloodsucking nomad’. 

The chance to make amends with her long-lost sister is one she won’t decline, and she takes Feyre in, and offers to fund art school now that she has centuries of wealth stock piled to provide for her reunited family.

They live in a magically-charged, witch-incanted conscious house that Nesta bought some centuries ago during the American Revolution, along with her roommates: Emerie, a winged demon (a witch who made a deal before she was destined to be burned at the stake), who craves cake over souls (and prefers the company of women over men); and Gwyn, a succubus who’s very awkward around men and would rather stay up late with a book. 

Nesta is an editor; Gwyn is a librarian who hides between shelves at the local archives; and Emerie is a ‘free-loading demon’ with plenty of war knowledge and collection of swords - but she’s also a killer designer, too . 

Feyre goes to college, thrives at student-life, and meets a couple of new faces. She reluctant to introduce her friends to her ‘roommates’ - until drunk Cassian and Azriel pop up on her door, and Feyre panics as she tries to keep them out.

Only Nesta - infamously cold, standoffish Nesta - uncharacteristically invites them in, and Gwyn walks into the foyer taken by surprise - and runs to hide. Emerie sits down to interrogate them, knowing something but not saying what. If Nesta’s unusual warmth and charming smile towards Cassian is any indication, Feyre is itching to ask! 

Feyre eventually coaxes it out after they leave. Nesta’s fondness stems from the fact Cassian was the dead ringer of Nesta’s beloved, whom died in battle but promised to reunite in another life. (A promise the reluctant romantic clung to). He was also a dear friend of Feyre’s in another period; and the brother of Feyre’s own beloved. 

Enter Rhys. Who’s alive - or, unlike. 

See, Rhys was a man who swept a wild spirited woman off her feet - and from another man, too, but childbirth stole her away only a short years after. Nesta, in her deepest grief, and resenting Rhys due to unmentioned strife between them, had condemned Rhys to immortality as the newly created vampire acted out in unabashed grief, and blamed him for her sister’s demise. He would never get to reunite with his beloved in the afterlife, damned to misery as Nesta had been.

Ironically, the two would become slow friends, and Emerie indulged they now share holidays as they’ve recognized each other as the last remnants of family they have left. His brothers perished in war; her sisters as casualties of natural illness. It was lonesome for them both - and eventually they set aside their differences to celebrate their common links. Emphasis on a LONG time for them to find forgiveness.

(Side note: Elain rejected Nesta due to her vampiric nature and unhindered bloodlust. 1500s France here, people. She died a wealthy woman, Lady Grayson, only to die of the plague.)

Feyre is excited at the romantic prospects and asks Nesta for a re-introduction to her long-lost lover, while endorsing Nesta to see if Cassian’s likeness isn’t just coincidental. She uses Nesta’s words as encouragement. 500 years is a long time - and second chances don’t come too often.

It just so happens it’s a season of ribbing. Nesta is amiable about the reunion, just as Rhys is favorable of trying to *not* interfere with his brothers’ love life like before, as he has a new respect and history with Nesta, and eager to make new memories with Cassian, too. 

(It begs the question if they’d condemn either lover to immortality, knowing the cost - a question neither want to answer anytime soon. Rhys wouldn’t hesitate to bond with Feyre forever; Nesta is adamantly against corrupting Cassian’s good nature)

It’s an interesting new chapter, with the two foes now *friendly* and old friends reunited; now, Azriel who has a bad history with love - first rejected by the beautiful Mor, and then lusting after an engaged woman - only to die in battle, is now reincarnated and absolutely besotted with the shy redhead. Not realizing the risks of being intimate with an succubus - but a man can daydream. 

[incubabe]

@switchrealms [x]

The King of Knights flushed as she crawled under the blanket next to her Master. Sure, she’d been openly intimate before, yet for some reason the act of cuddling on the couch made her face heat up. Artoria wasn’t able to make eye contact with Riley as she snuggled against her side as the TV played some movie or another. “D-don’t mind me, Mas-I mean, um, Riley. Y-you see, it was a bit chilly and I… um… figured that...”, the king’s explanation was shoddy to say the least. Not the mention that she was a heroic spirit and as such could easily withstand an apartment with air conditioning. “I’ll just… be here.” Artoria pressed her body against Riley, basking in her warmth. The Master, though she would never want to be called that, was a very comfortable match for the blushing knight. The king stole a quick glance up but immediately found the floor very interesting as she wrapped the edge of the blanket around herself and watched the TV screen.

Quite a few things that Riley didn't trust about Lancer. Her supposed identity, for one -- while the hellspawn was admittedly not an expert when it came to the mythology, by any means, but surely it would've come out that the legendary King of Camelot was about five-seven of strangely cute blonde. The only connection she could even guess at between a gay demonspawn accountant from Philly and the Once and Future King is that she and Merlin had more or less the same bloodline -- cambions, half-demons, borne of lust-eaters. But even then, surely the libidophages of 1500 years previous were so different as to make the connection wholly semiotic.

Unfortunately, that explanation was also the only one that held up. If not that, then what? That the ancient king had taken Riley's moment of terror to force herself into reality for a second shot at life? Despite the complications inherent to accepting the stranger's wild story, ultimately she didn't have much of a choice. She wouldn't throw out someone who saved her life.

Anyway. Things -- happened. Lancer lived here now. With Operation 'wait out the Holy Grail War' was well underway, the current objective was to zone out on the couch. An objective that Riley thought only required a single participant, but, clearly, her partner thought otherwise. "Mmf. Heya." That was the trouble, really. It was in her nature to overtalk, to put things out in the open, but the charm didn't really work here. Made it that much tougher to bail herself out of any hypothetical faux pas. Lucky, then, that the environment at hand had left Riley sleepy. (Environment, here, meaning a full belly of dinner and a warm blanket.)

"You're supposed t'go under it." Took a bit of doing, but with infernal grace, she able to tug the blanket out from under Lancer without disturbing her, and tossed it over them both. "There. Scoot in. You're gonna fall off."