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cheesecakethots · 7 months

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geto having a cute little non-sorcerer wife that he swears he hates.

he only marries you for your father’s riches, and so when you arrive on his doorstep he leaves the maids to tell you where you’ll be staying; the room furthest from his own.

you’ve been instructed not to so much as look at him, but he finds that he hardly sees you, anyway. you’re more like a ghost that haunts the manor than his wife.

most of the time he’ll happen to pass you sat alone in the garden, dressed in pretty kimonos that have most definitely been suited to his tastes. he hardly speaks to you, the only time he has was when the two of you had accidentally bumped into each other when turning a corner.

“watch it, monkey,” he had hissed, before continuing on with his day. he later found himself thinking on the nervous expression and faint embarrassed blush that had adorned your face. he had been tempted to smash his head against the wall to rid himself of the memory, as it plagued him the entire evening.

your father starts visiting and he has the basic decency to at least pretend as though he loves you. it results in awkward proximity and unloving kisses to your forehead, at least until your father leaves.

for some time, geto’s not entirely sure as to why you play along. you could go to your father and ask to leave this loveless marriage, could you not? then it dawns on him; your father doesn’t care, and you already know that. geto doesn’t like how a tiny part of his chest aches when he thinks too hard about that fact.

it’s not as though he leaves you locked up in some basement, withering away. you’re allowed to explore most of the manor, most of your needs can be met by asking the maids and very rarely he will permit you to visit the nearby town marketplace with some guards.

he starts seeing you more. he’ll sometimes find himself out in the garden, pretending that he has any business outside other than to keep an eye on you. he’ll never admit it, but it can sometimes calm him down, just watching you go about your day. to him it’s like watching a pet trot about, not realising their owner is watching with keen eyes. you’re still just a useless monkey, of course.

one day he discovers you crying in the garden you love so much. he’s never seen you cry before, hell, he’s hardly seen any emotions on you.

“what happened?” he finds himself asking before he can stop. you jump in your seat, not having expected him to be beside you.

“nothing, really,” you say, your voice still shaky and your hand wiping away at drying tears, “i’m sorry to have bothered you.”

he frowns, his patience quickly wearing thin. “tell me, now. what happened?”

you sigh, and some part of him can’t help but note how pretty your eyes look, despite the redness around them. he pushes the thought out before it can properly settle.

“my father sent me a letter,” you confess. “he’s… not happy with me.”

he steps closer to you. “why?”

you hesitate, your mouth opening and closing, but the expression he wears has you telling the truth.

“he wishes that i was pregnant with your child. i have told him that i am not, and never will be, and he… well, he’s not happy.”

suguru raises an eyebrow. “never will be… ?”

you blush, looking to the floor. “i know that you hate me. it may be easier for you to have a child with another.”

he scoffs.

“i don’t-“ geto pauses himself. “do you really think i’m the type of man to have a bastard with some whore?”

“w-well, no, but-“

“do you wish to stay married to me?”

you gulp. “no. i don’t.”

he pauses for a moment, seemingly considering something.

“if you give me a child, i’ll allow you to leave. you’ll still be married to me in name, but you won’t have to stay here, and you won’t be tethered to your father.”

your jaw drops for a moment, and then you collect yourself. “will i be able to see the child after i give birth?”

“sometimes,” he tells you. in reality, he doubt he’d ever let you near them, but you don’t need to know that.

“… okay.”

he finds it harder to convince himself that he hates everything about you when he has you beneath him, your ankles on his broad shoulders and your hands pressing against his back. he can’t help but fuck you even faster when hearing you whine and mewl. he wants to lick the expression you have off of your face, but refuses to indulge in the idea.

“su-su-suguru!” you cry. he stills inside you for just a moment. it’s the first time he’s ever heard you say his name. he was beginning to think you had forgotten it.

he grabs onto your wrists with one hand, pressing them above your head and manhandling you into another position, one in which he can somehow go even deeper than before.

he chuckles, low and raspy, “stupid fucking monkey…”

he’s starting to wonder if maybe he needs two kids. maybe four? hm. maybe you do have your usefulness. maybe he shouldn’t let you go, after all.

#i know this is ooc but idgaf #forgive me i haven’t watched jjk s2 and i barely remember geto but he’s hot so idc if it’s so ooc #allow me to dream #yandere geto suguru #tw yandere #tw.yandere #yandere #yanderecore #yandere jjk #yandere getou #yandere suguru geto #yandere getou suguru #geto smut #jjk smut #tw forced marriage #tw smut

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confused-lover · 15 days

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All The Hugs

Character x reader / Platonic!Ortho x reader Summary: How the characters would hug you Warnings: None (that I can think) (english is not my first language)

Riddle Rosehearts: Oh man, he would be so awkward, like, if you are not in an already established relationship he couldn't even hug you. He'd let you hug him but would be stiff as a board.

Ace Trappola: Would totally yank you in and squeeze you so hard but it'll last a maximum of 5 seconds. If you want it to last more you gotta stay wrapped around him, he’ll give in. Hopefully.

Deuce Spade: He’d wrap his arms around your shoulders but he won't press his body to yours, my boy is too respectful. If you don’t care about “decency” and hug him properly he’ll blush like no one’s business.

Cater Diamond: I totally see him hugging your waist and swaying just a bit. If he's feeling cheeky he’d snap a photo so quick you wouldn't even notice until you see it posted on Magicam an hour later.

Trey Clover: He’d be so normal about it. Just a normal hug. Thanks the seven for the one sane dude here.

Leona Kingscholar: No hug. You either snuggle in bed or you give up. But those cuddles, man are they good, you two stay like that for a minimum of 2 hours. The maximum does not exist. If you don’t get out of there yourself, you’ll never leave.

Jack Howl: Also a normal hug, he just wraps his arms around you and stays like that for a time, I see him probably taking in your scent but that’s about it. Please don’t mention the helicopter that is his tail. Please.

Ruggie Bucchi: You hug him and he pickpockets you, that's it, nothing else to say. Sorry.

Azul Ashengrotto: Just from the hug you know a business proposal is coming. I don't know how he does it but he hugs so professionally. If he’s feeling very romantic tho it’ll all be really slow. He’d remove his glasses and nearly hang limp in your arms.

Jade Leech: His hugs also have very business vibes from him but he’d also slowly caress your back, his fingertips softly touching your spine sending you shivers. He knows what he’s doing, don’t let his smile deceive you, he's nothing but a little shit.

Floyd Leech: you know how his hugs are … you don’t need me to tell you…

Kalim Al-Asim: Warm and fuzzy, like hugging the sun itself. I don't even know how his face doesn't hurt with all the smiling he does. He’d 100% make little jumps when and after he hugs you. If extremely happy he’d probably squeal or something. He’s cute like that.

Jamil Viper: The moment you hug him you can both see and feel his body relax, he'd let out a breath and hug you tightly. Bring you closer to his chest. Best believe this in the only moment of peace he’ll have all day, just let him enjoy it.

Vil Schoenheit: You can feel his neck straining to not touch you, god forbid he ruins his make-up. That’ll make you think that he feels like hugging you is a chore or that he doesn’t like it, don't believe that, he loves it. Just wait until it’s the end of the day and all his make-up is gone, once you get in bed you’ll be able to lay your head on his chest and cuddle all night

Еpel Felmier: If you're shorter or taller doesn’t matter, he will wrap his arms around your shoulders and hug you as strongly as he can. Will think it’s manly. Please go along with it or he’ll have a crisis once alone in his dorm room.

Rook Hunk: It's happening when you least expect it. You think you're alone, then boom, you get hugged. He’ll stay there as long as you permit it and will spew poetics non-stop. If you are not one to hug people then he'll absolutely brag about it to everyone and their mother.

Idia Shroud: He won't ever initiate, so it's on you this time around. Whatever type of hug it is, long or short, tight or loose, you won’t be seeing him for at least a month after that, he’ll just be hiding until the end of time ( until you and his brother give him no choice and drag him out of his room).

Ortho Shroud: Will hug you, be so happy about it, and then immediately run to his brother to tell him how good it was and list all the mental and physical benefits of hugs. He just wants to help his brother. Cut him some slack.

Malleus Draconia: He sees a hug as a very intimate affair. If you wait for him to hug you then you better be prepared to wait at least 5 months. If you beat him to it he’ll blush. It's gonna be brief and not exactly satisfactory but be prepared to see a ring very soon. Also, he’ll brag. Loudly.

Lilia Vanrouge: Hug attack. It’s a strong embrace if short. Also will shamelessly laugh at your face afterwards.

Silver: More than a hug, it’s a cuddle, his sleeping is quite infectious and you’ll fall right asleep. One of the best naps of your life.

Sebek Zigvolt: He sees you go in for a hug, sidesteps you, yells about how improper all of it is, and then a second later hugs you anyway. Other than a broken eardrum the hug is unimpressive, not exactly something to write home about. Maybe write to his home, for the medical bills, for your ears.

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faebaex · 1 year

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author note: woohoo assignments are finished so i can write again! also my first Riddle fic! i found his character quite endearing recently, i don't know why. i wanted to pair him with a more carefree, chaotic reader who'll help loosen him up since his overblot. so have some Riddle who still takes himself a little too seriously, who also doesn't understand his feelings (*≧ω≦*) i think its cute!

characters: Riddle Rosehearts x GN!Reader

"Off with your head!!"

The familiar sound of clanging metal resounded through the air before you felt a heavy weight settle around your neck. You ran a finger along the cool metal lock as your Housewarden glared at you, cheeks red with anger.

A small laugh bubbled from your chest before you gave Riddle a huge, glee filled grin. "Thanks, Housewarden! I've always liked how the collar goes with my uniform!" With that, you spun on your heel and walked off with a skip in your step, leaving Riddle sputtering behind you.

"Y-y/n get back here! I expect a 3000 word apology essay and--"

Your good natured laugh was the only response he received, sending his face redder and redder.

Ever since his overblot incident, Riddle had been trying his best to change his ways. He tried his best to not react so violently when rules were broken, to keep cool headed when things sprung out from his control. To his credit, he had been doing quite well. Sure, he wasn't perfect, but he was able to overlook small rule breaks, and was getting better at approaching slightly more serious rule breaking offences with more composure. But there was one exception.

You.

Riddle believed you had some uncanny ability to get under his skin. At one point he even theorised that it was your unique magic. All Riddle knew was that every time he saw your carefree smile, his cheeks would flush and his stomach would twist and turn into knots.

He chalked it up to anxiety you caused him with your antics. Yes, that must be it. That was the reason that his palms would sweat every time you approached him, why his throat would tighten every time you gave him an excuse for your behaviour, why his cheeks would suddenly heat up every time he saw your cute, little smile--

Riddle startled as that rogue thought popped in his head, feeling blood rush to his cheeks at the subconscious omission. He shook his head fiercely, as if that would chase away his illicit thought. Where did that come from? Whatever, it mattered not. He was your Housewarden, and as a student of his dorm he would bring you into order.

It had been a week since he had collared you and tasked you with an apology essay, yet he had not received it. Clearly you intended to continue your unruly behaviour, and he would nip this in the bud before your actions encouraged your impressionable freshmen friends.

It did not take Riddle long to track you down. He found you in the Heartslabyul lounge, sitting on the floor with papers fanned out around you. Riddle cringed at the sight, even if you weren't breaking one of the Queen of Hearts' rules, you were certainly breaking basic dorm rules of keeping areas clean and tidy.

"Y/N."

You looked over your shoulder, a smile blooming across your face at the sight of your Housewarden standing over you. You dropped the papers in your hand, swiveling on the tile so your back was no longer to him. "Hello Housewarden! How are you today?"

"Ahem. You owe me an apology essay, Y/N. Why haven't I received it yet? May I also remind you that such mess is not permitted in the lounge area." Despite his cold response, your smile didn't shift and you reached behind you blindly, grabbing hold of the papers you were previously holding.

"Oh! I was just sorting all of my homework into order by deadline. Because I haven't been able to use magic in class, I've been assigned extra homework so I don't fall behind..." you explained, having the decency to look a bit sheepish before your smile suddenly turned a tad cheeky, "since you didn't give me an official deadline, it hasn't been a priority. Sorry!"

Riddle's previous severe expression morphed into shock. You had actually attended classes, even with the handicap of the collar? He had half assumed you'd follow Ace's lead and skip your classes in hopes of getting your collar off quicker some other way.

"See, I didn't forget!" Your voice interrupted his thoughts as you waved a piece of A4 paper, which indeed was titled "apology essay to Riddle". Riddle's eyes slid past your face to the papers in your hands, and the further papers scattered around you.

"... I'm impressed you still endeavored to attend classes," You beamed a smile at him and his cheeks flushed, "h-however, I am not willing to wait much longer for you essay. In consideration of your circumstances..." Riddle paused, his traitorous cheeks flushing further as you looked up at him with hopeful eyes, "I-i will give you one more week. By the end of that weekend, I expect your essay in my hands."

If your smile was bright before, it was absolutely dazzling now. Riddle cleared his throat and started to step backwards, planning his retreat before his thoughts betrayed him again and he risked embarrassing himself. "Of course, I trust you will manage your time effectively to ensure all homework is completed on time."

"Thank you, Housewarden! And don't worry, that's what caffeine is for!"

Riddle's step faltered and he felt affronted, quickly whipping his head around to scold you, "Do not forget that rule 153 states that only herbal tea may be drank in the evenings!" Your carefree giggle floated through the air and you sent a wink his way, and Riddle felt his ears burn. How did you manage to make him feel this way with such simple gestures? It was maddening. He quickly stormed out of the lounge before he embarrassed himself any further.

You had been working through most of the nights since your conversation with Riddle in the lounge, trying to get through your mounds of homework. Ace mocked you and Deuce sympathised, but you didn't mind so much. Sure, you didn't have any free time and you were barely getting any sleep, but you'd rather not deal with a detention from Trein, or worse - Crewel.

You had decided to set your workspace up in the library today, knowing you'd be able to get through a fair bit of your work as Ace wouldn't follow you in here, and Deuce had club activities. But there was one thing you didn't expect...

With the library being so warm, and so quiet, you weren't expecting to get so comfortable. You were fighting against your drooping eyes, constantly having to restart the line you were reading when you realised you hadn't been paying attention at all.

... Perhaps it wouldn't be so bad if you took a nap. Just a little nap. Like, five minutes... Before you had even finished fully convincing yourself, you had already pushed your book back and rested your head on your arm. Yeah... You'll just rest your eyes for five minutes...

As you slept peacefully, way over the five minutes you had allotted yourself, you were completely oblivious to the person who stopped beside you and the sigh that fell from their lips. Your exhaustion played its part, as you didn't wake at the soft sound of shuffling, and didn't even twitch as a school blazer was gently laid over your sleeping form, simply cuddling into its warmth, much to the fluster of the one who laid it upon you...

#twst #twisted wonderland #riddle rosehearts #twst riddle #riddle x reader #riddle rosehearts x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #riddle rosehearts x y/n #twst x reader

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thecruellestmonth · 10 months

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Bruce & Jason fic recs: sweet and bittersweet

Some of the best sweet and sweet-and-sad fan fiction featuring the bond between a Good Batdad and his scrappy birdson.

>Sweet - light and fluffy, minimum hurt with maximum comfort

"Call Me Hopeless" by incogneat_oh - Bruce says good night to Jason and Dick.

"Alternative Means of Acquisition" by Imbecamiel - In which Bruce Wayne arm-wrestles Lex Luthor.

"home is such a lovely place" by evanescent - Jason's first time sneaking out to patrol doesn't go as planned. (He didn't mean to get sick, alright?)

"White Christmas" by LemonadeGarden - Jason's been in the manor for a few months now. Bruce is a pretty cool guy, sure, but he's not exactly sure what to expect from him. And then they go to Siberia in the winter on a case. It goes horribly wrong, and then pretty well.

"Not Guilty, Sir" by incogneat_oh - Robin smoked.

"Safe Space" by Cerusee - Turns out, Bruce and Jason aren’t quite on the same page about who’s parenting whom. Bruce is going to need to clear some things up.

"Sold to Wonder Woman (by my evil adoptive father Batman)" by JeanjacketCarf - Jason writes some fan fiction. It's totally not a self-insert.

"Mint Chocolate Chip" by LemonadeGarden - Summer vacations have been going on just long enough for Jason to start getting bored, when he gets an unexpected visitor. From the future.

"Cookies And The End of The World" by AnActualCrow - Jason has a bad day at school. Alfred and Bruce make him feel better.

"I Love You" by DetectivePrettyBoy - Jason wants to tell Bruce that he loves him.

"don't take your guns to town" by kreestar - batman comes home from a night patrolling to find a 10 year old jason todd waiting for him in his kitchen. across gotham, at the same time, red hood is stopped by a 25 year old bruce wayne.

"The legends and the myths" by orphan_account - Jason Todd is the best liar Bruce's ever met. Jason Todd is the worst liar Bruce's ever met.

"Growing Like A Breeze" by whaleofatime - April 27th isn't anyone's favourite date, but it's somehow worse than usual today when Bruce gets his car stolen. It's nice of Red Hood to come to his rescue. Nicer even that Jason keeps him company afterwards.

"Rise Up With The Sun" by blacklettered - His son came home on a Wednesday evening and Bruce did not call for the slaughter of the fattened calf but it was a close thing. Jason quietly decides to come home, and Bruce is quietly delighted. (Also there's a bunch of freaky Edgar Allan Poe shit happening in the background because lowkey Jason Todd is a revenant who walks the earth as if living and yet remains irrevocably connected to the forces of death and decay—but that's not as important.)

"Bet on it" by Lysical - Damian asks Jason for a favor.

"homerun" by someplacewarm - Bruce backs out from a baseball game with Jason last minute. They handle it just about as well as they handle anything else: bad, then better.

"the reflex" by TheResurrectionist - Jason takes a smoke break.

"Boof" by strikeyourcolors - When Bruce finds Jason turned into a dog in an alley, he tries to take care of him. He didn't plan on getting along so well with this canine form…or getting so emotional.

"Late Night Langoustining" by whaleofatime - Jason steals a live lobster from a supermarket.

"bred in decency and order" by OkayAristotle - Bruce cuddles his giant son. (Contains brief vomiting.)

"Sealing the deal" by orphan_account - In which Bruce Wayne is kidnapped and it’s somehow not the most difficult part of anyone’s day.Or, in which Jason Todd is a selkie.

"Plus-One" by Goldmonger - All the kids were permitted to bring a guest to the gala. Dick brought Barbara, Tim brought Bernard, Duke brought Ana, Cass brought Steph, Damian brought Jon, and Jason brought a forty-year-old 6’6” man with no sense of personal boundaries. Bruce is getting too old for this nonsense.

"the road home" by drakefeathers - Set during Lost Days. An injured and exhausted Jason succumbs to homesickness.

"the clay steals the clay" by zipadeea - Bruce discovers that Jason is alive in the sweetest, funniest way possible.

>Bittersweet - sweet mixed with melancholy, lots of hurt with some comfort; may contain mentions and depictions of child death

"Beneficiary" by sirsparklepants - The beneficiaries of the estate of Jason Todd.

"bird of winter" by knowsphere - Damian meets a ghost. Based on the short story "The Delusions of Alfred Pennyworth" at the end of Batman: Gotham Knights #34.

"A Proper Goodbye" by ceemobster - The emergence of the Red Hood throws Bruce into disarray, and then Jason pays him a visit. The epilogue of the "Under the Red Hood" story... set after Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice.

"this gun needs no bullets" by sacrr - A true Knight is made, not born. Or: the story of Jason Todd. [Batman: Arkham Knight]

"when you were young you used to dream about fires" by someplacewarm - Bruce travels back in time and finds himself in Jason's childhood home. Things aren't easy, but they were never this hard.

"through the valley of the shadow" by Goldmonger - Jason gets kidnapped and tortured. He rescues himself, partly.

"a little bit louder now" by mx_chrx99 - A mission gone awry, too many memories, too much blood, and not enough time. Bruce races to save a son he couldn't save before.

"Haunting" by the_authors_exploits - A child dies of neglect on the streets of Crime Alley; even then, the Batman won't give up on him.

"rip up the floorboards" by orphan_account - Content warning for non-graphic discussions of past CSA. When Jason was young and starved, he hid something like a corpse in his own body. Hurt/comfort.

"Wayward Birds" by LanternWisp - Featuring hilariously crunchy overbearing parent Bruce, who forbids his kid from consuming coffee or dairy.

"Moderation" by orphan_account - In which the Riddler accidentally saves the city a few years early by helping rescue Robin II from Joker’s clutches. Out of pure and vicious spite. [Arkhamverse]

"You're Just A Baby, You Can Not Fly" by BabblingBookends - Batman visits Jason's grave to say goodbye to his partner.

"To See the Stars" by lurkinglurkerwholurks - Jason and Bruce go for a hike.

"Younger Bruce, Older Jason - Shorter Fic" by whatomen

"Knock On Death's Door" by CastleGachi - Red Hood rescues a wounded Batman.

"here in our house, reminders of you" by jesamnelovelace - A Christmas present from Jason becomes Bruce's closest connection to his son after his death.

"a broken piece of what we used to be" by Cerusee - Bruce and Jason messily yet lovingly deal with the ramifications of Damian's resurrection and Nightwing's supposed death.

"Mask Of Blood" by Kieron_ODuibhir - When Jason is trapped in the past, Bruce turns to Jason Blood for help.

"By Any Other Name" by ManURonaldo - Jason thinks of Bruce and Batman as separate people.

"Someone That Hates To See Me Go" by AutumnHobbit - Or, how Jason realizes his family wants him to live, and how he realizes he does, too. (Oprah voice) Your fave gets hurt/comfort! And your fave gets hurt/comfort! They all get hurt/comfort!

"through death and time" by sparkycap - After a mission that takes Batman and Nightwing back twenty years in the past, they end up with time to kill. Bruce does what he does best: he finds a kid. Luckily this one is already his.

"Mighty" by Sparkypants - Five things Bruce taught Jason when he took him in, and one thing Jason taught Bruce.

"it's always sunny in coast city" and "the alignment of the planets, and of you and i" by atlasky - In which Uncle Hal Jordan loves Jason, but Bruce absolutely adores him with every fiber of his being.

"Trapped" by lurkinglurkerwholurks - Bruce and Jason end up trapped in a collapsed building. Jason really dislikes being buried alive.

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nametakensff · 25 days

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Lovely Mess (D/isco E/lysium, M/M)

I wrote this really quickly but then had a week full of interruptions before being able to edit it - but anyway, here's 2.3k of H/arry and J/ean being gross 🥰

Pre-Martinaise, Pre-amnesia H/arry gets J/ean to indulge him in the archive rooms of the station. Things gets messy (literally)

~~~~~

Content:

M/M, H/arry has a sneezing fetish, J/ean gets off on indulging him, manually induced sneezes, mentions of hay fever, rapid sneezes, dry humping, prelude to anal sex, anal fingering, spray, sneezing on someone, LOTS of mess, graphic descriptions of mess, verbal teasing, dirty talk, praise kink, embarrassment/humiliation, nose blowing, handkerchiefs

CW: Mess (I mean it), complicated/toxic relationship, abusive language, mentions of alcohol abuse, H/arry is extremely pushy, J/ean should love himself a little bit more, rough sex, degrading language directed towards the fetish, H/arry spits on J/ean's asshole, they're both idiots who enable each other's worst behaviour even if they do care deeply for each other

NSFW - Minors DNI!

“Hhd’Tishh!! ‘TTtsch’uu! Kt’tssch’iew!! Ttsschh’uu!!”

Jean rocked forward helplessly, shivering as each sneeze seemed only to aggravate the tickle rather than alleviate it. Of course, said tickle could only truly be assuaged if the source of its insistence was removed. Given that the reason he was sneezing himself stupid was because of Harry’s greedy and merciless inducing, he didn’t have much faith that he’d find relief any time soon.

“Fuck, Jean! Bless you!”

And there it was. Jean’s face heated at the blessing Harry all but moaned, already pinkened by the supreme effort of releasing an endless stream of tickly little sneezes. Every time he pondered these affairs with a clear head not clouded by impending or recently completed orgasm – when he analysed the situation objectively, the way in which Harry would pester him and he would indulge - he often wondered why he gave in at all. But without fail, the second Harry would approach him, all heated eyes and wandering hands, Jean would cave. Harry might be the deviant with the obscure fetish, but then what did that make him? What was his excuse for all the many times he would get so worked up over the attention he’d end up cumming harder and faster than Harry?

Harry smiled at him, drunk with arousal and power (and yes, okay, the Irish coffee Jean had watched him fix himself this morning). Jean shouldn’t let him treat him like a plaything, not really, but at the very least with Harry, he cared – which was more than could be said about some of the other men (and women) he had permitted to fuck him. He may have a shitty way of showing it half the time, the selfish maniac, but he at least had the decency to express remorse when he did happen to hurt Jean. And it wasn’t as if Jean was an angel. He dished out plenty of hurt himself. It was the nature of their partnership, and of their friendship. Go hard or go home, no in-betweens. Which was probably another reason why Jean was pressed up against the uncomfortable shelves of the archive room, his superior officer’s muscular thigh wedged securely between his own whilst he clutched at him for support, spraying Harry with each and every sneeze that was tortured out of him.

Harry jiggled the little wire he used for such occasions against the wall of Jean’s irritated nostril, and Jean heard the shuddering sigh of anticipation the older man couldn’t hold back as he watched his nostrils twitch and flare. It barely took any motion at all now to push him over the edge. He inhaled, a short, desperate little exclamation of breath before he was sneezing again, all over Harry’s hand, his wrist, and catching his face and shirt.

“Hupt’Tschu! Hhk’TsschUu! Hpt’tshh!-Tschh-Tschtt!! Hht-! Hh’AHtt’Tschhieww!! Putain…”

Harry groaned appreciatively, rocking his hips with each ticklish release. His cock was rock solid as he pressed against the younger man, and just the sensation of that huge erection prodding into him made Jean whine. He wanted Harry to bend him over and fuck him five minutes ago, already. He snuffled reflexively, and that was enough to send him over the edge for another violent triple.

“IhKk’TschHh!! Hh’itshiew!! Hgk’TISHh’ieww!!”

To his utter embarrassment, that final sneeze had been an incredibly messy affair alongside the regular dousing of spray. There now hung two small trails of clear mess, dripping down over his moustache.

“Fuck,” He murmured, blushing violently and reaching up to hide the display, even though Harry would have seen it, could not have missed it, watching him sneeze as he was through unblinking, starstruck eyes.

Jean bristled with indignation as Harry suddenly gripped his wrist and pinned it to his side, halting his attempt to clean himself up. He tried with his other hand, the one that had been gripping Harry’s bicep, but it was no use. That he worked out obsessively and had the body to show for it meant nothing in the face of the older man’s years of hardwired athleticism, even now that he used his arms to lift bottles of beer to his lips more than anything else. He could only stare daggers back at Harry, hoping to cow him into submission. Perhaps this would have worked at a time when Harry’s entire being wasn’t concentrated in the girthy length of his cock. But it was, and so it didn’t.

“Let go of me, you fucking maniac!” Jean spat, angry at Harry for merely smirking back at him and angrier at himself for finding that it made him even hotter.

“Nope. Nuh-uh. Not until you promise you’ll leave yourself alone.”

Jean blinked at him.

“I’ve got fucking snot running down my face, you moron, and it’s your fault. I’ll still fucking sneeze for you, just let me wipe it away.”

Harry didn’t budge. Jean felt his heart race when he realised that Harry’s eyes, pupils blown wide with arousal, were lingering over the sight of mess that was ever so gradually creeping down his face and threatening to slip over his closed lips. He sniffled thickly, nostrils flaring with effort, hoping to pull some of it away, but it barely made a difference. Harry exhaled, and Jean felt his cock twitching against his hip.

“You can clean up in a minute. Just. Keep going like that? I swear I’ll make it up to you.”

Jean knew he would, knew that Harry genuinely enjoyed making him cum, for all his flaws. He didn’t even care if it was a matter of machismo for the older man – he just wanted to have a fucking orgasm, and indulging Harry without resistance was the fastest way of getting one. He sniffled again, wincing just a little at the dense sound of it, before shaking Harry’s hands away and resting his own on the older man’s shoulders.

“Fine.” He grumbled, ignoring Harry’s toothy grin and tilting his head back slightly, nostrils already fluttering in anticipation. “Just don’t come crying to me when I make a mess of your fucking uniform.”

“I never do!” Harry eagerly replied, wasting no time in reinserting that devilish inducing tool.

Every little prod urged the tickle onwards with the most delicious building of pressure. Jean had never disliked the sensation of sneezing, but the sheer quantity of sneezes he was prone to, particularly with his hay fever, had somewhat desensitised him to how pleasurable of a reflex it truly was. He both hated and thrilled in the way Harry was brushing off on him, transforming a banal bodily function into something undeniably hedonistic.

One final prod of the tool, so devious and teasing that it brought fresh tears to his eyes, and Jean was buckling forward with the subsequent release.

“Hut’Tschuu!-Tish’iew!-Hh’tsSCHhuu!! Tishh’ieww-Tschtt!! Huh-! Kishh’uu! Dzsh’ieww!! Hhk’Tisshhiew!!”

There was no way he could open his eyes as the sneezes overwhelmed him, barely giving him a chance to breathe. He could feel himself approaching a desperate state of light-headedness, but damn it all, it felt so fucking good to purge the tickle, and the shameless moans Harry was making just elevated the eroticism to euphoric heights. He gave in to each sneeze, letting them do with him as they would. His cock throbbed and twitched in the painfully tight constraints of his trousers.

“IhGKk’Tschu!! Hgk’Tscch!!-Tshh-‘Tschieww!! Hupt’Tschh! Igk’Tshieww!! Tschh! Tsh! Hh-!”

Harry had at least removed that cruel little wire, and Jean could feel the sneezes winding down, perhaps due to lack of oxygen more than anything else. His breath scissored in and out of him, chest jumping with effort as he built up to one final, cleansing explosion.

“hhHAGk’TshHhieww!! Ah…”

Fuck. He was trembling, at last able to blink his bleary eyes open. His face felt hot with effort, tears streaming down his face as his breathing gradually evened out again.

“Ohh, Vic. Jean. Good boy.”

Harry murmured, leaning forward to press a kiss to his burning cheek. Those words, predictably, went straight to his solid cock and he blushed right up to the tips of his ears. He was so, so embarrassingly easy.

When Harry pulled back, Jean took the time to assess the damage. His fit had dislodged no small amount of clear mess, built up over hours of aggravating hay fever and Harry’s ruthless tickling. It had spattered over Harry’s chest, some glittering in the chest hair that peaked out through the unbuttoned upper section of his shirt, the rest leaving specks of damp discolouration as his sneezes saturated the fabric. He looked down to where their legs locked, and even as he did so another drop spilled from the pinkened rim of one nostril to join the damage there. As with Harry’s shirt, the material stretched across his thigh was darkened with slippery moisture. Jean noticed he had even managed to sneeze, or drip, onto the straining material across Harry’s crotch, which throbbed happily as he regarded it.

He didn’t need a mirror to visualise the mess he had made of himself; he could feel the result of his body-shaking fit dripping past his moustache and over his lips, down to his bearded chin. Judging by the damp sensation of his shirt clinging to his pectorals, he’d definitely drenched parts of his own chest as well.

The droplet that had recently escaped now gathered anew, hanging precariously in place. Harry had noticed, because how could he not, and he took the opportunity to tease Jean’s sensitive nostril, ever so delicately, tracing the flaring rim with one outstretched finger.

Jean gasped immediately, cringing at the intensity of the tickle, and sneezed all over Harry’s hand.

“AEgkK’TschIeww!! HHd’TtSChHhht!! Oh m’by god…”

He blinked and shivered, relishing in the trembling aftermath and unable to help the soft little whimper of pleasure that slipped through his lips, only partially open to allow himself to breathe. He snuffled, the sound of it crackling and obscenely congested.

Harry pulled his hand back, connected to Jean’s nostrils by one delicate, glistening strand before it stretched to its limit and fell away.

“Wow.” He smiled, sounding completely fucking enraptured, and held the hand up for Jean to see as he himself admired the prodigious results of that violent double. Jean blushed to see the skin glistening in the poorly lit room, slick and sticky. He was frightened for a second that Harry might actually lick himself clean, and even more frightened at the way his cock didn’t seem to wilt in the slightest, but thankfully Harry just wiped it off on the ruined material of his own shirt.

“Poor baby. So stuffy. You made such a lovely mess for me, Jean-Jean.”

He was saying the most ridiculous, unbelievable things in that gruff, rumbling voice of his, speaking more because he liked the sound of what he was saying over whether he thought Jean might actually enjoy it. Jean did enjoy it, though, and that fucking enraged him. He would always come back for more, no matter how strange or obscure the sex became, because he was a fucking fool and Harry could play him – just about anyone, really, but especially him – like a fucking fiddle.

“You’re a fucking pervert, Harry. A disgusting creep!”

He meant it, too, yet they both knew that this vitriol towards the particulars of Harry’s proclivities was a facade. In reality, Jean was angry because once again, Harry had pushed his boundaries and his buttons and he’d loved it anyway. His outburst only spurred Harry on, rubbing himself shamelessly on Jean’s hip.

“Yeahh, baby. I’m a downright tramp. But you fucking love it, Vic. I’m making you hard.”

Jean gasped as Harry’s baritone voice rumbled against him; he could feel it in his chest, the rasp of it echoing in his skull as Harry licked a line down the shell of his ear. The feeling of his facial hair rubbing against his cheek made him shudder. And he was right – he was so, so right. Jean was giddy with arousal, intoxicated with the utter filthiness of it all.

“Let me – let me clean myself up.” He managed, and Harry obeyed, giving Jean enough room to retrieve his handkerchief and indulge in a long, crackling blow. It was several such blows, in fact, and Jean squirmed as Harry refused to look away. He wondered if his body would soon become unable to distinguish between the twin burning flames of humiliation and intense arousal. He used the unsullied part of his handkerchief to clean his beard and moustache, hoping if he missed a spot Harry would let him know before the unavoidable walk of shame back to the bullpen.

“You okay?” Harry asked, voice far too fucking tender as he stroked at Jean’s cheek. He knew if he looked Harry in the eye his gaze would be equally as saccharine, and it made Jean want to scream, or melt. Maybe both.

“I’m fine. Fuck me, god dammit. Fuck me right now,” He snarled, bucking his hips against Harry and groaning as the older man immediately humped him back, pawing him all over.

“You gonna beg me for it?” Harry murmured against Jean’s lips, breathy with arousal.

“Fuck you.”

“That’s not very nice.”

“Neither the fuck are you, shitkid.”

“It’s okay,” Harry drawled, grinning at him before flipping Jean around and bending him over the small, nearby reading table. Jean moaned as Harry pulled his trousers and underwear down his thighs, shivering in anticipation. “I forgive you. I’ll fuck you anyway.”

Jean rested his forehead on his folded forearms and moaned again, heating at the sensation of Harry spreading his cheeks with his huge hands before spitting on his hole, happy in the knowledge that he had worked Harry up just enough to be railed as hard and as fast as he liked.

“Feel free to sneeze again, if you need to.” He could hear the smirk in Harry’s voice, the popping cap of his portable lube bottle, and then the sensation of his coated fingers probing inside of him, stretching him open.

“Fuck you,” Jean gasped out, reaching between his legs as Harry lined up their hips, getting ready to enjoy the ride.

#did i mention this is a mess centric fic #just need to make it clear #nametakenfic #d/isco e/lysium #sneeze fic #sneeze kink #snz fet #snz kink #snz fucker #snzblr #sneeze fucker

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touyastearss · 1 year

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How Kaname would react to reader not feeling good enough?

ASK: how would kaname react to his s/o not feeling like enough for him, even thought she’s completely and utterly in love with him and envying Yuki a bit?

note: just to add, when i write vampire knight x reader fics I usually imagine reader as being in place of yuki? so in my fics she kinda just doesnt exist rip </3 i hope that makes sense haha

Kaname loves you entirely. You belong to him. But you must understand, those women are unavoidable for a vampire of such high status as himself.

The Day Class students can't be helped; he remains courteous with them, as always, but he keeps an unbreakable distance in his demeanour as he converses with them. His etiquette is common decency, nothing more. He refuses their hand-made gifts, returns their love letters and only politely thanks them for their infatuated compliments.

The Night Class is to be expected, he is a Pureblood, after all. It’s instinct for a Vampire, no matter their rank, to feel a sense of adoration for the select few whose power runs greater than the rest. Aido’s grovelling and Ruka’s defensiveness are instinct, natural.

Truthfully, he thought his adoration for you was clear. For years he has told you that he cares for you, so softly expressing his heavily guarded emotions. It was your gift he accepted the day of St. Xocolatl’s Day, your hand he held as he lifted you from the ground

You're a weakness to him, no doubt. The Night Class students recognise it. Kiryuu seethes in envy when he sees it. Even the Day Class students protest, with jealous complaints. So why don't you?

"Y/N, a ball is being held this evening in honour of it being Ichijo’s birthday. I'm in need of a date, would you care to join me?"

He brings the topic up as you scour through the bookshelves in his room, looking for one of the many you remember him lending you as a child. Your movements stop as you pause, turning to face him. Your expression is torn.

"Oh..." you hesitate, a nervous look on your face. Kaname watches you think for a second with growing displeasure, heightened only when you say, "I'm not sure, Kaname, I have to patrol this evening and-”

It's rare for Kaname to feel exasperated with you, but it's not at you that his irritation is aimed, it's the way you're acting. Why do you suddenly feel the need to distance yourself from him? Surely he's done nothing but made it clear how he feels about you?

"Y/N, I assure you that you’re permitted a single day of rest. I’m sure the Headmaster would have no complaints of you taking a night to relax. There's nobody else I'd rather have by my side."

Your eyes widen a little at his words, and he urges you to clasp onto them, to ignore the voice in your head telling you that you're not good enough.

You gulp, still unsure. "Oh, o-ok", you nod.

—--

Later that day, you’re in your bedroom, changing into the dress Kaname had gifted you moments ago. He waits patiently outside as you slip into the fabric, adjusting your hair.

You step forward, gingerly, making your way over to the mirror. Your reflection stares back at you, dolled up in such a beautiful dress, no doubt staggeringly expensive. The colour is just right, it compliments your skin and it fits perfectly, hugging your body. You look pretty, you truly do, but is it enough?

You’re too lost in the details of the gift to notice the door to your room opening, ever so quietly. Kaname steps into the room in silence, watching from behind. He notices the way you frown at your reflection, pulling and adjusting the dress to little satisfaction as you try to make yourself feel better. But you can't.

You look up when you feel Kaname's chest against your back. His lips are curved up into a gentle smile, and they come down to rest softly on the side of your neck, planting soft kisses up to the bottom of your ear.

"You look beautiful, Y/N." You turn back to look at your reflection as his hand snaking around your waist. "You're perfect," he places a soft kiss on your head, "I've never loved anyone more."

#anon #ask #vampire knight #vampire knight x reader #fluff #kaname x reader

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witchofthesouls · 5 months

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Some more thoughts of the bayverse isekai:

Younger!Sentinel Prime is more aligned to the Optimus we know (and love) because bayverse!Optimus not only held the guy in so much esteem but seemed to gain his own ideals from the guy.

It's unfortunate that his Lord High Protector is Star Saber

Think of them as the heretic and the zealot

Both of them come from radically different backgrounds and mindsets, so they often pit against each other

Many see it as a good thing as the Prime and Lord Protector must mimic the original pair: Light and Shadow.

Everyone, especially Star Saber, constantly reminds Sentinel that he is the last of the Primes and most uphold their culture, propriety, and honor. Primes are the closest to their Creator, the zenith of all, and the keystone to their society.

Of course, there's a lot of underlying tensions cause Sentinel is the last one compared to the many during the Wandering Age.

There has been so much worry of what that means because Primes aren't alone. There's at least a pair about, but Zeta's untimely demise sent shockwaves throughout the planet.

That's why Sentinel has been pushed to bond. In hopes, someone of his own lineage will be touched by Primus as the massive sweeps throughout city-states yielded nothing.

Those who scoffed at Sentinel's proposal to sweep the Wastelands now had to eat their words.

There's a reason why the found newsparks are housed and hidden in the Primal Palace. Many were hoping to take advantage of Sentinel's lone status. A few with silver-tongues and in-depth knowledge of the oldest scriptures managed to convince Star Saber to back certain candidates, especially since many view Sentinel as painfully naive to the way of the(ir) world and needs proper guidance.

Of course, your survival/arrival threw everything into disarray.

Sentinel claimed you, a Wilder with Primal glyphs etched upon your face, as his Conjunx-to-be.

"You're throwing away all the traditions of our people and shooting decency to the winds!" Star Saber roared, and Sentinel felt nothing but slight annoyance over the fracturing crystals. He made his choice, and now they must accept, especially since he wasn't permitting unlisted individuals to his personal wings.

"Not our people. The traditions set by the Unification Age that we followed to this day. What better spouse to the last of the Primes than one that is Primal-descent?" Sentinel will forever savor the expression of horrified shock upon his Lord Protector scandalized faceplates. I win by your very own arguments, he thought. And braced himself for all the reasons he shouldn't bond now.

#transformers #transformers bayverse #bayverse #sentinel prime #sentinel #star saber #reader insert #humans into Cybertronians #humanformers #isekai #cybertronian culture #maccadam #my writing #your survival will throw so many wrenches

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lilapplesheadcannons · 10 months

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Let's not call Wei Wuxian stupid for not realising that Lan Wangji was in love with him, please.

He's not a stupid man. He was raised in a complicated household and was told the goal of his life was to be second to someone else. In his first life, he had no indication that Lan Wangji had any romantic feelings for him. In his second life, he genuinely thought Lan Wangji was just being righteous in helping him solve mysteries and find justice rather than have any other motive. After all, how can the esteemed Hanguang-Jun be a cutsleeve? Even the inn scene, surely it was just the alcohol? I grew up in a culture where homosexuality is not permitted, and it's not a safe assumption to make at all that someone same sex is interested in you when just friendship or basic human decency would explain their behaviour quite well.

I know I wrote a fanfic where Wei Wuxian realised Lan Wangji was in love with him after being married for 8 years, but my fanfics are always based in an ideal world where their relationship is not only not taboo, but actually accepted and encouraged. The Jin siblings get along tremendously, and all the parents survive and get marriage counselling. Unfortunately, that's not the case in Canon.

#mdzs #the grandmaster of demonic cultivation #cql #wei wuixan #please he's my precious baby #and he's genuinely a guy with high eq and iq #not his fault teen+adult Wangji sucked at expressing his feelings

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historia-vitae-magistras · 10 days

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Hi, I hope you don't mind me asking but why did Zee hate being a nurse? Well, other than her being forced into the role

I don't think she hated it at first. She loved being a professional in a crisp uniform with real rank and authority all her own on the virtue of her education and experience. It's a far cry from being permitted to do more or less whatever she likes because her father is a man with rank and authority. She likes the puzzle of diagnosis, the riddle of keeping people alive, and the profound speed with which medicine advances thrills her. But even as young as she is by the standards of her own kind, she still gets a bit restless. And it's in those times that just how unfuckingfair everything hits her.

When Jack's bored, he can pick up anything he pleases. Natural history, biology, paleontology, leather tanning, winemaking. If he's tired of the city, he can just up and fuck off into the interior to be a stock hand If he wants. No one will stop him. And to a certain extent, she can too if she really wants, but it's just so much harder and riskier. What she is does give her a certain amount of protection, but it's still a hard thing to pull off. So she switches jobs, visits her father or a brother or friends or throws on trousers, and leaves gender behind entirely. But life is still so often a choice between harrowing or stifling.

Patients love her; she's an excellent nurse. She's funny, a bit naughty, and always partial to her own. She can give as much as she gets when speech becomes sparing. She continued in pediatric and community nursing over time, but I think she got heartily sick of nursing during WWI. She climbed the cliffs of Gallipoli half out of spite but still took the hill of Chanuk Bair. She left her gender behind and smashed her brains in with rocks like any other half-starved body on the trench line. She did her part to cut that hill from Turkish hands at bayonet point. She showed a talent and a propensity for violence no one wants to believe exists in pretty young women. The only real victory Gallipoli saw was hers, brought to heel by her brutality. But then the British lost the captured ground almost instantly, and it was for nothing.

She slides back into nursing not long after as Churchill's foolishness finally comes to a close, and she spends the rest of 1916 trying to preserve whatever decency, whatever sanity remains to her and Jack. And that's almost harder for her to do as a nurse, witnessing death after disease after devastating injury, one after another after another. She wanders around as she likes from unit to unit, corset or helmet on and off, but often feels guilty when it's not in a corset because nurses are in much higher demand than any grunt with a rifle. Sometimes, she just can't stand the sight of another broken body. But she does kind of redeem nursing for herself by mid-1917 when the British army commands that dominion nurses can't be trained as anesthesiologists, and she only mentions Canada and Australia. I always think of that as a sly little move on Arthur's part because it puts Zee on a pay and rank basis equal to doctors for the first time and that her forceful personality can go to some real reforming use for the first time in a while.

So yeah, too long didn't read: it's not that she hated nursing so much as she hates misogyny and the front-row seat to senseless violence it granted her.

#the ask box || probis pateo #zee || ahakoa he iti he pounamu #meatsack mechanics || the sociology and biology of nations

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merakiui · 1 year

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Oh god, The Leech twins railing darling in church and getting caught by Rollo is not something I thought I'd be thinking this morning-- *sweats*

Okay but now that you're giving me these Rollo thoughts (TW: religious guilt-tripping, verbal abuse, torture (starvation, whipping, burning, etc.)) yea okay now imagine that Rollo finally gets to isolate darling from the world, and now he's dead-set on "correcting their ways". He'd start with whatever is the equivalent of Bible lessons in Twisted Wonderland, having them recite those Bible passages then guilt-tripping them for their whorish (that only goes on in his head, while in reality they never did (except if u count the times they involuntarily became the twin's plaything)) behaviors. I just know this man would be a pro in guilt-tripping, shaming darling in the most eloquent way as possible until darling themselves actually believes they're the one in the wrong. And even when they did do good, his praises only go with something along the lines of "this is still the baseline of basic decency, you'd do well not to forget it". Disobedience could lead to punishments such as not giving darling their meals and leaving them without food or water for days (and no, even if he did give them food in the first place, they'd still sit lower than him on the table or on the floor, take your pick). He wouldn't hesitate to even use drastic measures like whipping them or even as drastic as burning them with candle wax (I'm also thinking of him branding them with the devil's insignia just to accentuate his words of darling being the devil's spawn or somethin--).

Anyway yea, I rewatched the Hunchback of Notredame recently and have been playing Hellfire on loop so seeing that ask really opens the gate that floods my thoughts sdjksdkdslsdkl-- I still am curious about the leech twin railing darling in church tho, cause I once saw an art of Religion AU with Devil Floyd and Priest Jade just railing the fuck out Nun Darling lol

-heyyy 11

Omg yes!!! OTL I once saw a fanart of priest Azul with angel Floyd and demon Jade and...yes. <3 there was also this one where the twins were incubi. But priest Jade?!??!! OOOOOHHH!!! he would be the most corrupt priest...

The idea of a nun!darling working alongside priest!Rollo, only to be slowly, methodically corrupted by two demon twins is very good. And it's even better if they mark you and Rollo finds out. >:) Poor nun!darling tries so hard to stay pure and unaffected by temptation, praying each and every night and day, visiting Rollo for blessings, going to the confessional, but nothing ever seems to work. You've even tried warding them off with holy water and other blessed objects. Yet, despite everything, they still persist.

Aaa your thoughts are so good! Rollo would be so cruel and it's all to uphold his beliefs and the idea that he's pure, not at all tempted by you, and that you're the filthy one. I also like to imagine some of his punishments are quite medieval in nature. Rollo makes you wear a scold's bridle if he suspects you've been lying to him about all of the salacious deeds you most certainly did behind his back when he was kind enough to allow you a modicum of freedom. He tells you you ought to feel lucky that they no longer burn witches at the stake, for if the time period was different you'd find yourself engulfed in flames for such sinful witchcraft. He seems so delusional when he clings to his beliefs in this manner, and you suspect he genuinely believes that this is the right course of action.

I like to imagine that if you made a pact/contract with a demon of any type he would want to carve the contract stamp from your skin, even if such a thing can't be removed by mortal hands. He definitely forces isolation upon you as a punishment. You're put in a small, cold, cramped room with hardly any light, the window is blocked with thick iron bars, and you aren't permitted freedom until he thinks you've learned your lesson. Sitting there in the dark, alone with your thoughts, is bound to fray your sanity if the punishment is given to you enough times. And you might even find yourself accepting what little 'love' Rollo has for you at the end of it, if only to stop this torturous abuse and placate him, hoping to prove to him that you're pure and cleansed.

#twisted chit chat #yandere twst #yandere rollo flamme #yandere rollo flamm #heyyy11

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dreaminginthedeepsouth · 9 months

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Frank Sinatra's self-inflicted tough-guy-party-animal-Rat-Packer image was not only childish and tiresome, it belied the fact that he was well-read, thoughtful, and a committed free thinker. In this 1963 interview with Playboy magazine, Sinatra speaks frankly (sorry) about the hypocrisy and dangers of "the witch doctor in the middle"--his term for organized religion.

Playboy: All right, let's start with the most basic question there is: Are you a religious man? Do you believe in God?

Sinatra: Well, that'll do for openers. I think I can sum up my religious feelings in a couple of paragraphs. First: I believe in you and me. I'm like Albert Schweitzer and Bertrand Russell and Albert Einstein in that I have a respect for life — in any form. I believe in nature, in the birds, the sea, the sky, in everything I can see or that there is real evidence for. If these things are what you mean by God, then I believe in God. But I don't believe in a personal God to whom I look for comfort or for a natural on the next roll of the dice. I'm not unmindful of man's seeming need for faith; I'm for anything that gets you through the night, be it prayer, tranquilizers or a bottle of Jack Daniel's. But to me religion is a deeply personal thing in which man and God go it alone together, without the witch doctor in the middle. The witch doctor tries to convince us that we have to ask God for help, to spell out to him what we need, even to bribe him with prayer or cash on the line. Well, I believe that God knows what each of us wants and needs. It's not necessary for us to make it to church on Sunday to reach Him. You can find Him anyplace. And if that sounds heretical, my source is pretty good: Matthew, Five to Seven, The Sermon on the Mount.

Playboy: You haven't found any answers for yourself in organized religion?

Sinatra: There are things about organized religion which I resent. Christ is revered as the Prince of Peace, but more blood has been shed in His name than any other figure in history. You show me one step forward in the name of religion and I'll show you a hundred retrogressions. Remember, they were men of God who destroyed the educational treasures at Alexandria, who perpetrated the Inquisition in Spain, who burned the witches at Salem. Over 25,000 organized religions flourish on this planet, but the followers of each think all the others are miserably misguided and probably evil as well. In India they worship white cows, monkeys and a dip in the Ganges. The Moslems accept slavery and prepare for Allah, who promises wine and revirginated women. And witch doctors aren't just in Africa. If you look in the L.A. papers of a Sunday morning, you'll see the local variety advertising their wares like suits with two pairs of pants.

Playboy: Hasn't religious faith just as often served as a civilizing influence?

Sinatra: Remember that leering, cursing lynch mob in Little Rock reviling a meek, innocent little 12-year-old Negro girl as she tried to enroll in public school? Weren't they — or most of them — devout churchgoers? I detest the two-faced who pretend liberality but are practiced bigots in their own mean little spheres. I didn't tell my daughter whom to marry, but I'd have broken her back if she had had big eyes for a bigot. As I see it, man is a product of his conditioning, and the social forces which mold his morality and conduct — including racial prejudice — are influenced more by material things like food and economic necessities than by the fear and awe and bigotry generated by the high priests of commercialized superstition. Now don't get me wrong. I'm for decency — period. I'm for anything and everything that bodes love and consideration for my fellow man. But when lip service to some mysterious deity permits bestiality on Wednesday and absolution on Sunday — cash me out.

Playboy: But aren't such spiritual hypocrites in a minority? Aren't most Americans fairly consistent in their conduct within the precepts of religious doctrine?

Sinatra: I've got no quarrel with men of decency at any level. But I can't believe that decency stems only from religion. And I can't help wondering how many public figures make avowals of religious faith to maintain an aura of respectability. Our civilization, such as it is, was shaped by religion, and the men who aspire to public office anyplace in the free world must make obeisance to God or risk immediate opprobrium. Our press accurately reflects the religious nature of our society, but you'll notice that it also carries the articles and advertisements of astrology and hokey Elmer Gantry revivalists. We in America pride ourselves on freedom of the press, but every day I see, and so do you, this kind of dishonesty and distortion not only in this area but in reporting — about guys like me, for instance, which is of minor importance except to me; but also in reporting world news. How can a free people make decisions without facts? If the press reports world news as they report about me, we're in trouble.

Playboy: Are you saying that . . .

Sinatra: No, wait, let me finish. Have you thought of the chance I'm taking by speaking out this way? Can you imagine the deluge of crank letters, curses, threats and obscenities I'll receive after these remarks gain general circulation? Worse, the boycott of my records, my films, maybe a picket line at my opening at the Sands. Why? Because I've dared to say that love and decency are not necessarily concomitants of religious fervor.

Playboy: If you think you're stepping over the line, offending your public or perhaps risking economic suicide, shall we cut this off now, erase the tape and start over along more antiseptic lines?

Sinatra: No, let's let it run. I've thought this way for years, ached to say these things. Whom have I harmed by what I've said? What moral defection have I suggested? No, I don't want to chicken out now. Come on, pal, the clock's running

#Frank Sinatra #interview #religion #Playboy magazine

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darrowsrising · 3 months

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what is your opinion on House Raa (Atlas aside)? In some parts of the fandom they’re very popular but I agree with Darrow when he said he found them pathetic because for all their talks about duty they’re pretty spineless… they talk about the 10+ years war but they did absolutely nothing about it until the very end??

Plus they cannot come out with a decent war strategy for the life of them, from book 3 to 6 they’ve been taking shit from all sides

(Un)holy Reaper of Mars, but are they stupid!

Please check under the cut for a long ass rant as to why I am saying that. I am quite meh about them in general, I do like certain aspects and what the plot does with them.

Should be illegal to be that stupid. No wonder Octavia subjugated them like that, stupid. Their last braincell died with Romulus, stupid. How the fuck are you even allowed to live in this cutthroat universe, stupid? Stupidity isn't a victimless crime, stupid.

I would have preffered if Atlas wasn't the one to deliver judgement on them, but...they were stupid enough to make it happen, so can't be mad. That and the Rim needed to move forward, conflicts with Darrow would not have helped and change was not on the horizon. At all. There had to be something truly evil to even make Diomedes, the only saving grace, consider things.

Up to a point, I can understand why House Raa is the way it is. That point is Romulus himself. There is this pride and indoctrination that accumulates over generations and it gets people stuck. But it's unexcusable to go past that point and instead of moving with a purpose, you're just sitting in an echo chamber of fascism. And it's not morally speaking, as much as...how can you not see the trap prepared for you? How can you lack so much self-awareness?

To be completely fair, I think the only brain in the Rim Dominion is Aurae. Even the Daughters of Athena have problems on that front. But that is another discussion.

The House Raa situation is somewhat similar but opposite to that of Dancer and the Vox in the Senate. They claim something, are confident in their own power, but have no idea just how dangerous and rotten things are, while it was their job to know. And when tragedy strikes, it is unfair and evil.

I can see why their fans are fascinated by House Raa, but I cannot get people who are into these guys for their code of honour, because it's just a tad better than House Bellona's. Which does not mean much at all.

Other than that, I think their involvement in the books is a Pierce Brown thing, not a 'they did nothing' thing. He wanted them to be involved as much as it worked for his plot and not anymore. They suit the plot instead of the plot suiting them, which is not necessarily Pierce Brown's modus operandi. That is why I claim that he is a better writer when he does not have to limit himself and set-up novels in this series are weaker.

But on the other hand, I can buy the 'they may have various advantages, they are too stuck to be adaptive to warfare as it happens in real time'.

One thing that I have noticed for House Raa as a defining trait is a genuine, deliberately instilled fear. They would rather die than face what they think is dishonour. They are afraid to...grow a braincell disobey and/or dishonour. And that inhibits them more than necessary. They become insensitized, they don't care about human beings because it's human decency to do so, they just act with the moral code permitted. Even when they do disobey, it is within those limits, so they can act on it and get away with it. They kept Akari so close, his very ashes chokes them with his long lost dogmas.

Diomedes is the only one allowed to continue to serve the plot because he has genuine compassion. As you have read in Light Bringer, not much brains, however. That is because he was raised to be permissive of Golds, just like the Rim Lords were ready to accept Octavia once again in MS, for the sake of their own Color.

Not only he could not understand Cassus Belli when it hit him on the head - I did not need Darrow to underatand what Lysander was doing tbh, so Diomedes has no excuse - he was helpless with the Garter, because he put himself in that position. He did not think for one second that ot would come to that. That any Gold would do that, let alone Lysander.

There were plenty warnings, but he simply bet all on the few interactions with Lysander. And it did not take Lysander much sacrifice at all. Darrow has to do godly things to impress upon allies and foes alike and he makes it look easy. Lysander just jas to wiggle his mouth and participate in stuff. Participate.

He is also treated with gloves, because most obstacles put in his way are sort of slaps on the wrists or tests for worthiness. And his allies properly buy this stuff and Diomedes and Dido did too. Poor baby got poisoned and he still went to the Rim? What a champ!

Saving Diomedes was the only strong point, tbh, but...idk, these guys put too much price on their own lives. He was not saved with the tought that he will come back and reclaim power, no doubt about it.

It literally costs the Garter for Diomedes to understand why peace cannot be built on the compromise that keeps slavery intact. All because that is the legacy of House Raa, a code that is way beyond applicable. Honouring tradition and adapting to new winds do not have to be exclusive - see Primus of House Augustus, Virginia Augustus and her lion ring.

In my humble opinion, House Augustus rules. Always has, always will. Aesthetics, smarts, good and evil. Even Nero's limits were fascinating and believable. But the difference is that House Augustus affaires created plot oppprtunities and drove it forward. House Raa is more of a tool moved by the plot, which isn't a bad thing, but it divides the public. Then again, it's hard to impress me after Dark Age, so there is surely a me problem too.

Took an hour to write this, lol. Hope it's worth something.

#light bringer spoilers #red rising #iron gold tetralogy #house raa

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cogitoergofun · 1 year

Text

For the past two years, thousands of people have descended on a public park in Franklin, Tennessee — a suburb 30 minutes outside Nashville — for an LGBTQ pride festival featuring live music, food trucks and crafts vendors. Clayton Klutts, the president of the Franklin Pride organization, viewed the event as a glowing symbol of how far a small, conservative community had come in terms of LGBTQ acceptance.

But this year, Franklin Pride’s attempts to obtain a city permit have been met with fierce resistance. What had been a procedural formality in past years has become a bitter flashpoint that mirrors similarly heated debates roiling the United States.

“The idea that we wouldn’t allow a pride event in the year 2023 is a little bit hard to fathom,” Klutts said. “It feels like we’re going backwards.”

The conflict came to a head during a public forum at City Hall late last month, one day after a 28-year-old shot and killed six people at a private Christian school in Nashville — a massacre that some on the right blamed on the suspect’s gender identity. More than 30 people, many of them wearing circular “Choose Decency” stickers, pleaded with Franklin’s mayor and the city board’s eight aldermen to deny the pride permit.

One mother claimed that the festival was part of a coordinated national movement to groom children, attack families and destroy America. A man read a passage from the Bible about resisting “sexual immorality.” Others baselessly linked homosexuality with pedophilia and cited the school shooting a day earlier as a reason to block the event.

“You think you are doing things based on laws,” a crying woman said, “but … you are letting Satan in. He will not take an inch. I promise you. He will take everything and it will not stop.”

[...]

Tom Rice, a 71-year-old retired art teacher who has owned a home in Franklin for decades, said he believes anti-LGBTQ rhetoric in the area has become more pronounced over the past few years, reaching a fever pitch at the city meeting on March 28.

“I was most concerned with how vicious some of those people were,” Rice said in an interview. “Basically, they think homosexuals are sexual perverts and we’re out to get their kids, and we’re doomed to hell. They wish we didn’t exist.”

[...]

“I feel like the concern is they don’t want to see gay people in their community, and they’re looking for ways for us to be suppressed and not have the same rights that everyone else does,” said Klutts, a Tennessee native who has lived in Franklin for more than a decade.

He and other local LGBTQ community leaders see echoes of earlier chapters in the long fight for acceptance and inclusion. Robert McNamara, a Franklin Pride board member who is married to Rice, the retired teacher, views the fury over his group’s festival as a replay of the infamous “Save Our Children” campaign from the 1970s and ’80s, when the singer Anita Bryant and fundamentalist Christian groups falsely depicted gay people as child predators in their quest to crush ordinances banning anti-LGBTQ discrimination in employment and housing.

“The backlash feels like when I came out in the '80s,” McNamara said in an interview. “It feels like we have stepped back across the board in terms of equal rights.”

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allzelemonz · 8 months

Text

His Boy, Part 3: Hosea

Dutch Van der Linde X Male Reader X Colm O’Driscoll

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9

Pronouns: None Mentioned, Reader referred to as ‘son’ Physical Sex: None Mentioned Rating: M/references to previous smut Warnings: Kidnapping, past relationship, forced cheating, Reader is an asshole O’Driscoll, mentions of past sex, mentions of prior chapter dubcon, mention of past Dutch/Hosea Summary: The only level head in a world of outlaws comes to check on you after your rough night with Dutch.

To your surprise, it’s Hosea you see the next morning. He opens the door with a bowl in hand and you’re thankful Dutch had the decency to put your pants back on. Your hands are still tied, though you’re now attached to a post to prevent your movement. Hosea closes the door behind him and looks over you with an expression you can’t quite place.

“Dutch told me what he did.” He finally says, walking towards you. “Said you wanted it.” He sets the bowl down and pulls a bottle of tonic from his pocket. “Did you?”

You watch as he opens the bottle. “Never said I did.”

Hosea’s hands falter for a moment before he holds the bottle to your lips. “It’s a painkiller. I’m betting you need it.”

With a bit of a glare, you swallow the contents. He’s right, you do need it. Your ass aches to the point of keeping you from sitting properly and your hips are bruised with finger marks.

“Did you ever ask him to stop?”

Hosea’s voice is steady but you know the man’s morals, he’s checking not because he cares about you but because he knows what Dutch did isn’t quite right. Even if you ended up enjoying yourself, even if you did want it, he didn’t know that.

“I did.” You sigh. “Didn’t mean it.”

“But he didn’t know that, did he?”

You sigh, a mocking tone overtaking you. “You’re too good for this world, Mister Matthews.”

“I’ll have a word with him.”

“Throw one of those Miller books at him, might make him all righteous again.”

Hosea huffs, reaching to untie your hand. “I assume you know I never liked you?”

“Very aware of that, my friend.”

You circle your wrist around to get the ache out. Hosea pushes the bowl a little closer for you to reach. It’s stew, always stew in camp.

“You’re not good for Dutch.” Hosea says with a glare.

You pick up the spoon and try to keep your hand from shaking as you bring it to your mouth. “I left, didn’t I?”

“Ta sleep with the man he hates.” Hosea coughs. “Didn’t help things, son.”

“Not why I left, just ended up that way.”

“You hurt him.”

You swallow another spoonful. “Never meant to. Not then, at least.”

He’s quiet for a moment, letting you eat a bit more. “Then why did you leave us?”

“Had my reasons.”

He sighs. “Dutch… in all his many, many faults, cared for you very much.”

You set your spoon down and fix your eyes on Hosea’s. “He always says sweet things like that, doesn’t he, Hosea?” You lean a little closer, as much as the ropes permit. “But do you ever find yourself wondering if he means it?”

For a moment you both look at each other. Both men that have shared a bed with Dutch Van der Linde, both men that have heard his sweet words and rose-colored image of the future, both men that left those feelings behind despite still feeling their remains in one form or another. You can’t hate Dutch the way Colm does, probably never will. Men like him have a way of getting to people’s hearts and minds and never quite letting go.

“Let me enlighten you, Hosea.” You sigh, leaning back to your post. “He thinks he means it, but he will always prove the pretty words wrong and pretend it’s not his fault.”

“And Colm O’Driscoll is better?”

“He’s honest. He doesn’t pretend like Dutch does. I know exactly where I stand with Colm, exactly where he stands with me.” You kick the bowl way, spilling the remaining stew. “You know all that with Dutch or are you still dancing around each other?”

Hosea doesn’t say a word as he ties your hand back and picks up the dinnerware. He stands and walks to the door, stopping with his hand on the knob.

“He said you’d changed.” He says with that annoying tone of knowing everything.

Then he leaves, locking the door behind him and leaving you with the rope and the dark.

#red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #red dead redemption x reader #red dead redemption x male reader #x reader #x male reader #dutch van der linde #dutch van der linde x reader #dutch van der linde x male reader #colm o'driscoll #colm o'driscoll x reader #colm o'driscoll x male reader

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