#Absolutely insane and beloved dynamic

[teamfortresstwo]

When a character forgives another for doing some truly horrible things to them … especially if it’s because they know they’ve done worse things back (or even before that)

[goldensakuma]

i am in. Immense Pain

[nyxi-pixie]

thought abt my morgwen fic again <\3 AUGHHH THEY WERE SO CRAZY IF ONLY THE WRITERS OF BBC MERLIN COULD SEE THE REAL VISION. LAZY BORING LOSERS

[possamble]

realizing im kind of a weirdo about laios and marcille

[arthur-lesters-spinal-cord]

what's divine punishment's dynamic? (sorry, new here. I saw the banger ship name, noel, kayne, and ran here as fast as i could)

DONT YOU DARE APOLOGISE ANON YOU HAVE MADE MY DAY!!!! Teehee time to talk about my favourite guys ever. Divine punishment is my favourite dynamic/ship so ive gone a little bit over the top explaining it because it comes from so many places in my brain (i am also a chronic yapper).

Firstly, my version involves the two of them vaguely interacting in Eygpt. Its not exactly meeting per say but Kayne is hanging around the excavation site for both the black and grey stones and is aware that Charlie is the one to steal the stone. This is inspired/stolen from The Man in the Mirror which is @grayscale-sparks’s wonderful Noel backstory fic that i yap about a lot.

Kayne then fucks off to go kill every other version of himself and Charlie is taken by the King causing Kayne to lose track of the vaguely interesting mortal who stole the stone. Until at some point during Charlies time in the prison pits Kayne finds him and strikes a deal, hes the one who alerts the Cana to get Charlie out.

Charlie makes his way out of the dreamlands by himself but Kaynes still rather interested in him. He managed to get the stone, survive The King and the Dreamlands after being in the prison pits, now thats just fascinating. So instead of having to re-build his life on his own Kayne starts appearing in Charlies life, at first Charlie does not appreciate this but over time Kayne ends up becoming the only stable thing in his life (which is saying something). Kayne is the only person Charlie really has to talk to who would understand what the fuck hes been through and Charlie is interesting to Kayne (and maybe theres a little bit more than just normal interest there). Charlie also feels indebted to Kayne since he was the one to get him out of the prison pits. The reason im using Charlie here is because he specifically asked Kayne to keep calling him his old name as a way of trying to continue separating Noel and the Eldritch parts of his life.

Its during the two year period after Noel escapes the dreamlands before Malevolent that they become property interesting and dynamicy it is not at all healthy however.

Also @absoluteocellibehavior suggested the idea that Kayne could use Noel as a backup option for sending to get the blackstone since he has similar criteria to Arthur: has been in the same room as grey stone, was a pi, has a good knowledge of the eldritch, ect. He just doesnt use him since Arthur is his favourite, but should Arthur fail he is keeping Charlie in reserve to go after the blackstone for him.

(This can also feed into an idea of divine punishment without the time from after the king-before malevolent of just the two of them ending up together after part 40 while Kayne is bored and cant see Arthur in the 13th century)

To sum up: Charlie feels indebted to Kayne. He also views him as the only stable part of his life and at time acts as a reminder that he isnt insane and the King did happen. Kayne thinks Charlies interesting (but not to the point of obsession the same way he is with Arthur) and is keeping him as an option should Arthur fail. They are also fond of one another in deeply fucked up ways (i love it when Noel has the chance to be slightly scary and Kayne gives it).

I also made a joke post comparing them to Arkayne here.

Terribly sorry for the length of the post, I hope its still an enjoyable read and I actually answered the question albeit in a rambling manner.

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

Hello!! I hope you're doing well! Do you have any recs for books about twisted/problematic relationships but with woc? Obviously there's our queen octavia butler but unfortunately for me i've finished reading all her books so i'm desperately craving for books that scratch this itch. Thank you for this blog btw i really love reading all your thoughts & reviews ♥️

goddd okay this list is not going to be nearly as long as I wish it was but it is extreeeeemely varied, so at least we have that going for us lmao. and hopefully you find something interesting in here:

right out of the gate if you're chasing that Octavia high, Rivers Solomon's novel Sorrowland feels very very in that vein. it starts with a teenage girl escaping from a Black separatist fundie cult while heavily pregnant with the cult leader's twins, deciding to give birth to the babies in the woods and raise them there. and boy, does it get crazier from there! there are some eventual transformative body horror sci-fi elements that I shan't spoil, but it's a time. the relationships are pretty secondary and genuinely not the most fucked up thing here, but our main girlie Vern is very much into girls and trying to figure that out on top of all the other horrors.

The Hundred Thousand Kingdoms is the first book in a fantasy trilogy by specfic queen NK Jemisin, and the first book in particular is really like. problematic relationship city. the protagonist is called to be an heir to a dying emperor and IMMEDIATELY gets embroiled in a love triangle with two of the gods that her family enslaves for power??? crazy shit.

I just kicked off this year reading a book called Darknesses by Lachelle Seville, which ALSO features a young Black woman fresh out of a cult (this one loves self harm and anorexia). and then she meets another Black girl who casually drops that she's Dracula, and oh boy do things get weirder from there. this book is like kind of Not Good but it is very entertaining; at a certain point you just have to turn off your brain and go with the vibes. it's sweeter than a lot of examples but listen, obsession and bloodlust are obsession and bloodust no matter how much your gf Dracula respects consent. there's a lot of murder!

this one doesn't have any supernatural bullshit afoot and is instead just regular degular #problematic, but Raven Leilani's Luster was one of my favorite books last year and follows an absolute shitshow of a young Black woman's extremely loaded and weird relationship with her older white boyfriend and his insane wife, as well as their adopted Black daughter.

anther no magic entry: I really love Oyinkan Braithwaite's My Sister, The Serial Killer, which is about exactly what you think it's about! the narrator is a put-upon Nigerian woman whose beautiful, beloved sister has murdered her last several boyfriends and has come crying to her dutiful sister to help her clean it up each time; the plot kicks in when the murdery sister sets her sights on the narrator's boss, a doctor to whom the narrator is also attracted. I know it's a sibling relationship instead of a romantic one but you didn't specify so! I am counting it!

this one is like very very very niceys compared to everything else I'm going to put on this list but it's also pretty hot so I have to mention it: Little Rabbit by Alyssa Songsiridej is about a young, bisexual Asian-American woman struggling to get a writing career off the ground falling in love with a Notably Older and wealthier white man and figuring out how to navigate the subsequent problems both within their own interpersonal dynamic and in how their relationship is received by others.

honorary mentions: books about fucked up white women that are written by women of color who Know!!

Under the Pendulum Sun by Jeannette Ng is a Victorian alternate history in which the English discovered the fairy realm and promptly did what the English did, ie, sending missionaries to teach the fairies about Jesus. the novel follows a woman traveling to the fairy kingdom to look for her missing missionary brother and promptly going insane as fairies gaslight gatekeep girlboss from all sides, complete with a side of everyone's favorite gothic horror trope: repressed sibling incest!

My Nemesis by Charmaine Craig is another very lowkey and grounded example, comparatively, but I thought it was neat and worth a mention! it's told from the POV of truly insufferable white woman writer whose emotional affair with a philosopher gets thrown for a fucking loop by the philosopher's wife, an enigmatic Chinese woman whose motivation the MC cannot guess literally at all. it's not the most exciting read in the world but the reveals hit hard and the reveals at the end made me YELL.

also for short story collections by WOC that can bring the #yikes factor in big ways I heartily endorse Roxane Gay's Difficult Women and Carmen Maria Machado's Her Body and Other Parties.

I wish I had more to throw you here; please if anyone has something to add to this list I am LISTENING

[delusionalbitchinthehouse]

I don't usually write the Papas a lot but i wanted to explore the dynamic between Copia and Perpetua so. There.

"What the fuck are you doing here."

"Hello to you too," Perpetua snorts, pushing past Copia and into the temporary office he's been holed up in.

"Its two in the morning."

Perpetua shrugs, looking around. He avoids the painted eyes of the woman he never knew to be his mother, represses a shiver when it gets him to accidentally meet those of his father's portrait instead. Same eyes as his, same as the twin brother glaring daggers at his back.

"Tour starts in two days. You should rest."

Copia's toned is clipped, his worry directed at the quality of the show Perpetua will have to put on rather than the man himself. Can't really blame him. The new Papa grabs a black and white rat scurrying on the armchair he set his eyes on and plops down in it, curiously holding the squirmy creature at eye level.

"What-" Copia squeaks, "what are you doing ? Set her down !"

Perpetua pets the soft furr on top of the little thing's head, unbothered. Copia makes an aborted move to reach for his beloved pet, but Perpetua keeps her close to his chest.

"Your ghoul bit me," he hums conversationally, deciding to let the rat go for Copia's blood pressure' sake. Relieved, the man deflates, sinks into the cushions of the couch facing Perpetua.

"Which one ?"

"The one that wants my head on a spike."

Copia's chuckle surprises both of them, hangs heavy in the following silence. He clears his throat.

"...doesn't narrow it down much."

Perpetua tugs a glove off, nods toward the teeth imprint, jarring against pale skin.

"Had to get a new pair of gloves, he tore right through them. I hope he's not venemous."

Copia shakes his head, tugging his collar open with a tired sigh.

"The only one who's venemous is Pebble, and it's more a sedative than an actual life-threatening venom. What did you do to piss Dew off anyway ?"

Perpetua glares at Copia with an indignant huff, crossing his arm petulantly.

"I did absolutely nothing, that ghoul just wants me dead in a ditch. And how do you know it was him ?"

Copia rolls his eyes so hard it looks painful, slumping against the backrest with a scoff.

"Fucking V. Those are my ghouls, you don't think I know what their bites look like ?"

Perpetua blinks, slowly, hoping that within the pause he's allowing, Copia will realize how batshit insane that is. Apparently not, because the man just stares him down expectantly.

"...no ? Normal people don't just recognize bite marks ?"

Copia levels him with a stare, eyebrows raising.

"Since when the fuck am I considered normal ? This whole bloodline is freaks after freaks, you included, bat boy."

"Oh, so when Phantom's special interest is bats, or when you dress up as one, it's okay, but when I do, I'm weird ? Rat boy ?"

Perpetua knows he's pushing it, but despite his longing for an actual, non antagonistic reationship with his twin brother, he cannot help how annoyed he feels the second Copia gets snarky. The man in question throws him a dirty look.

"Do not drag Phantom into this."

Perpetua throws his glove at him, which lands with an objectively hilarious slapping noise square on the man's face.

"Oh, settle down, you dick, I meant no harm. He's actually the only one not actively trying to disembowel me."

Copia throws the glove back with a grunt. Not for the first time, Perpetua notices how much older than himself he looks, wiry grey strands running through his hair, deep wrinkles creasing his face. he finds no pleasure in this realization, only sadness and a wave of apprehension. Is it going to happen to me too ?

"He's too kind to you."

"Yes, yes, you think I deserve to get publicly executed for taking your place, I know, we've been over it already."

Though he's trying to play it off as light-hearted, bitterness crawls its way up Perpetua's throat as he says it. To his immense surprise, Copia blanches, straightening suddenly, hands clasping together compulsively.

"Don't joke about that shit," he snaps, voice tight. Strange. Copia's easily flustered, but he usually takes Perpetua's shit better than that. It's unusual to see him wringing his hands and mumbling to himself after just one sarcastic comment. It dawns on Perpetua there might be something else to it when he catches the haunted look on his brother's face, when he watches him get up and rip his gloves off to frantically wash his hands in a small sink hidden in the corner of the room.

"Why are you here ? Because I know you're not going to come crying to me everytime a ghoul bites you," Copia grumbles once he recomposed himself, gloves back on and face almost neutral. Perpetua toys with the fingers of his glove.

"Can't a man want to spend time with his brother ?"

Copia scoffs, kicking a cushion with a somber look.

"We're hardly more than strangers sharing genes."

Okay, ouch, but guess it's not that far from the truth. Perpetua sighs. To think he was considered petty as a child.

"Okay. We'll, i'd like for us to be actual brothers."

Copia tenses, shoulders raising toward his ears. His eyes are lost, far, far away from here, from this conversation. He doesn't sound snappy when he answer, but small. Sad.

"I had real brothers."

His hands are clasped again, with enough strenght to make the leather of his gloves creak. Perpetua leans forward in his seat, too earnest.

"Tell me about them. Tell me about Mom. Tell me about-"

"Trust me, you do not want to know shit about Dad."

But it's not a no. Copia's face scrunches up for a second as he glances at the empty space on his left, grumbling something that sounds a lot like "fuck off", though definitely not directed at Perpetua. It's not the first time he sees it happening, but he decides now is not the time to push his luck. Copia sighs, gesturing toward the man he insist on not calling his brother.

"What do you want to know ?"

Perpetua takes a deep breath, and asks.

[phoenixcatch7]

Deep in my ff7 rereads so here are my favourite fandom fics, hands down.

End as you mean to begin <- 130k+ of time travelling cloud parenting the remnants, seeking asylum in a war torn wutai to keep all four of them out of shinras hands while sephiroth is absolutely Going Through It in midgar. Great Genesis characterisation and cloud mothering his way to an international incident. Bonus gender hijinks, hilarious misunderstandings and zack. Unfinished.

The fear of falling stars <- 500k+ and soon to be completed. Cloud and insane!Sephiroth time travel back to their shinra days and I cannot emphasise enough how much cloud is Not Doing Well. Gorgeous wordplay and top tier banter. Utterly unhinged blood enemies to ??? to ?????? to lovers sefikura. It's E rated and probably the tensest I've ever been reading fic lol, it is not lighthearted! But it's incredibly well written and the characters are phenomenal (zack my beloved) so if you've got strong nerves (and like a quarantine pairing) I'd definitely recommend it.

Voice of the gods <- 170k+ of almost idyllic gods and avatars au. Slow, soft and full of world building, it's a lovely relaxing read of cloud getting anointed the envoy of sephiroth, god of war, and slowly growing into his role and joining the ranks of envoy. Lots of side characters take larger roles here, and sephiroth himself is a darling without losing his sharpest edges. Unfinished.

I CAN FIX HIM (series) <- possibly my favourite sephiroth characterisations ever. 130k and growing of pure shaking this man like a doll in a perfect mix of almost delirious crack and gutting angst (often both at once!). Very good writing, every single funny moment hits like a truck and keeps building until you're choking with laughter. Bonus points to ROADTRIP! for being utterly, utterly insane. I cannot emphasise enough just how GOOD every single character and their dynamics are written.

Just anything ff7 written by AimeeLouWrites, if you've been in this fandom for any length of time you'll have heard of her. Great concepts, great executions and aus for DAYS.

Five hearts to make him whole <- 130k+ of time/dimension travelling cloud getting sent to a world of soulmates - and his alternate self bagged all four soldier firsts. Alternate cloud also died violently a few years ago and boy did those soulmates (not) take it well. Our cloud, of course, was not read in on any of this. Shout out to the emotional support chocobo! Unfinished?

Shall I find rest <- another soulmate agszc (?) dimension cross but this one is 100k+ of post AC cloud and Tifa waking up and deciding to make it everyone else's problem. They're so done with all the drama. Bamf nibel duo to the end and Tifa is the mvp. Unfinished.

Advanced release <- 250k+ and it's sephiroth receiving the original game in a strange packet that appeared in his room. It spirals into a messy and painful exposure of conspiracy, lies and inevitable tragedy. Video game logic is a running gag and zack remains the only actually stable person in the whole sorry mess but he's also Having a Terrible Experience. Really well written!!! Unfinished.

On broken wings <- 160k+ of pure post AC sephiroth redemption from his pov. Him struggling to find his place in a new world and experience real human connection evolves into MOOGLE EMBASSY need I say more?? Unfinished.

With Great Power Comes Meddling Fucking Gods <- 470k+! Poly WEAPON cloud gets yoinked back to the past (feat agzs), dies for a few days and misses his family SO bad but he is determined to change the future for the better. Probably the most healthy and mature cloud ever lol. Unfortunately for him, insane!sephiroth is pulling a inner hollow and gaia herself isn't talking. If you like symbolism, whoo boy!! The dream sequences are a DOOZY (and drowning in eroticism). Wonderfully written, the divide between sane!sephiroth and his counterpart is really cool to see. E rated at times but it's absolutely DELIGHTFUL and WEAPON cloud is such a treat. And I cannot emphasise enough the symbolism. Zackkura (kinda) and slow burn! Unfinished.

A brand need not be seen <- 180k+ in a world of soulmates where the four firsts have clouds name on their wrists. Trooper cloud is tentatively, desperately hopeful. Then a smoking hot op af adult cloud appears, with no names on his wrists at all. It's a really cute flirty fic despite covering shinra politics, identity crises, huge self worth issues, lots of trauma, and finding your own place in the world. Unfinished.

Memory's struggle <- 250k+ of cascading time travel. Basically everyone goes back, which goes great XD. Everyone... Except cloud. I read this a while ago but I do remember poor cloud just getting loved and spoiled by literally everyone and freaking out about it lmao. He was so confused! Unfinished.

Additional edit:

A solitude of space <- a wonderfully soothing 90k complete of sephiroth getting resurrected and moving to stardew valley to become the farmer. It's sooooo peaceful and following him as he grows into his own person and experiences real normality and community is lovely, if a touch angsty. Eventual sefikura with cloud moving to the farm when he's not doing deliveries. It's just. Really nice. I think I cried at the end. Finished!

One-Winged Angel's Self-Saving System <- 55k+ sephiroth enters the Chinese fantasy Scum Villain world in place of the scum villain himself! (He's the third person to take on that role, but who's counting?) Reborn into a plant body he's set loose on an unsuspecting world with a completely different magic system (sentient swords! Immortality!), with only the guide of a mysterious hallucinated ai. Freedom to make his own choices! Aroallo seph rep! He messes up the plot so bad, recruiting accidental love interests with kill counts and resurrecting long lost immortals. It can get a bit heavy but it's really fun and sephiroth has no intention of ever going back. Unfinished.

The SOLDIER General's Self Saving Shizun <- 73k+ of the opposite of the last fic: the scum villain (the 2nd) gets isekai'd into sephiroth! Shen qingqiu, aka the modern world native shen yuan, fails to resurrect into his prepared plant body and wakes up in a new fictional world, once again as the villain. With his limited memory of the games and his immense knowledge of cultivation (scum villains magic system) he tries to get a grasp on his new life while evading hojo, the president, his new subordinates and the war front while cultivating to immortality - something shinra is VERY interested in. When I tell you these two fics have a GRIP on me. I've written so many fic ideas around them. It's actually insane. The first thing he does is completely redecorate his rooms and buy a whole new wardrobe, which is totally not suspicious XD. Unfinished.

The fifth act <- 160k, it's a good ol' time travel fic - with a twist. The truest exploration of ripples in a pond, or how kindness, when true, can be returned in most unexpected ways. Or maybe how a single act of good can change the world.... Or maybe it's about how you must never turn your back on an enemy. Cloud has people to save and people to kill, and only time will tell which is which. Complete.

Of Things That May Be Only 'Verse <- another series! At 250k, it's about sephiroth resurrecting, only to, uh, slip and crack his head lol. This sends him spiralling through a vision of a cosy life he'd never dreamed, and when he wakes up? He wants it so bad. But that means behaving. Slow burn sefikura redemption, side Cid/Vincent (vincid?) which ngl did convince me of the ship, domestic fluffiness and found family galore! And the whole series is complete!!

Little seph <- a 160k series about the AC sephiroth revival going wrong. Stuck in the body of a kid, post AC sephiroth is a feral kitten carefully domesticated with the power of pancakes, wing preening, and deeply uncomfortable sleepovers. He's a brat, a pest, a murder machine, but he just wants to be part of a family even if he pretends he doesn't. Eventual sefikura, and overall just a very good read. Fully complete!

We are no heroes <- 70k series, about a secretly time travelled sephiroth desperately trying to save his friends and finally, maybe, rest. When I tell you this had me SOBBING. I was BAWLING. Extremely good, zack is best boy. This man is just so tired. Beautiful descriptions. And, again, complete! Yay!

[sixeyeass]

𝑪𝑨𝑵 𝑰 𝑷𝑳𝑬𝑨𝑺𝑬 𝑮𝑬𝑻 𝑺𝑶𝑴𝑬 𝑵𝑬𝑾 𝑷𝑨𝑹𝑻𝑵𝑬𝑹𝑺 .ᐣ • 𝗴𝗿𝗼𝘂𝗽 𝗳𝘂𝗰𝗸𝗲𝗿𝘆 :: give me something centered around a chaotic group of friends. gimme the corruption, angst, drama and betrayal. • 𝗰𝘂𝗹𝘁𝘀 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘀𝗲𝗰𝗿𝗲𝘁 𝘀𝗼𝗰𝗶𝗲𝘁𝗶𝗲𝘀 :: let's explore the shady side of high society, the secrets behind celebrities and fame. an upcoming girl being pulled into that world or, an already established group and whatever shenanigans they get into. • 𝘀𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁𝘀 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗺𝗲𝗱 :: football [soccer], formula 1 or whatever sport you're feeling. could be a professional setting, or something colegial! rivals, cheerleaders, teammates?? i need it!! • 𝗮𝗽𝗼𝗰𝗮𝗹𝘆𝗽𝘁𝗶𝗰 :: tlou inspired, survivors just barely getting by - desperately clinching onto one another for comfort. • 𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗿𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘀𝗶𝗮𝗹 𝗳𝗮𝗺𝗶𝗹𝘆 :: jealous older brother that can't stand the sight of his beloved sister dating someone else? possessive mother that wants her baby all for herself...? the urge for t*boo family dynamics is insane!! • 𝘃𝗮𝗺𝗽𝗶𝗿𝗲𝘀 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗿𝗼𝘆𝗮𝗹𝘁𝘆 :: i just absolutely love the old money aesthetic of creepy and pale vampires. twilight volturi inspired with themes of corruption, obsession, luxury...!! 𝑨𝑩𝑶𝑼𝑻 𝑴𝑬 .ᐟ six | 20+ | he/him | portuguese and english • only contact me if you're 20+, please! • i'm try to be super flexible, always eager to explore and write different characters. i can do m/m, m/f and f/f. • yapper! no, seriously! i talk too much! i love to gush over our character, share visuals, spam you with stan twitter gifs, etc. • love NSFW and dead dove themes, but can easily adapt to a more wholesome vibe! • discord only!! like or message me directly. hopefully i'll see you soon! ».«

[cultkinkcoven]

Fuck.

I started this page to document my shit so thats what I'm gonna do. But first huge massive disclaimer holy fuck

spirituality and psychology are messy and I am insane I think, and I'm not saying that to be funny or whatever, I know how strange these ramblings sound. I know this reads like some really weird self insert god fanfiction. Maybe it is ?? I recognize how absurd this is. And I have been genuinely kind of unwell dealing with this in silence because??????? how the fuck do you explain this to like??? anyone.

This might very well be my psyche unraveling. SO TLDR, fucking I don't know take this howeverr you do.

Trigger warning: Extremely cringe, extremely nsfw. Mention of??? Blood, power dynamics, "what is referred to as cosmic statutory rape”, ???? implied grooming and incest YEAH ???? IDK. IM SORRY.

I DONT KNOW IF I AM GOING TO POST THIS

These are less than unedited. These are what I could find the time to write down between bouts of confusion and admitedly a lot of denial. And life also. Like being a not insane normally functioning part of society. Theres going to be so many spelling errors and dumb shit said. Its probably going to be so long. You guys wanna do Luciferianism and shadow work and stuff its so fun.

I'm deflecting with a lot of humor right now. I'm genuinely so burnt out and exhausted in every sense. To everyone who has commissions due from me rn I love u guys and I'm so sorry I have been an absolute wreck like genuinely. I’ve been sick. So anyways. Yeah. Intense stuff.

To be entirely honest, I’m not sure if I can remember how it began. I recall already being seated at the podium, in what appeared to be a courthouse. The Jury, the Judge, and all other people in this room were dressed in black robes which had hoods that obscured their faces, their forms. But I already knew that I was in God’s court, that each and every person in this room was a divinity. Some familiar, Hermes, Horus, Aphrodite. Some I don’t even know the names of. Angels, demons, Gods from every culture, all gathered here today. 

And then, there he was, Lord Lucifer was brought into the courtroom, shackled, chained, cuffed. And sat on the side of the defence, against the persecution. And I sat in the chair of the victim.

Then the Judge, I don’t know who exactly they were, did that thing that Judges do to get everyone’s attention. “We are gathered here today in deliberation of the case against Lucifer who is accused of coercion, corruption, desecration of the human soul, and what is referred to as cosmic statutory rape.” 

And I altogether understood what this was, and I honestly couldn’t really believe it was happening. I must be dreaming.

A figure, one from the side of the prosecution, began a speech. 

"You blur the line between worship and possession." "You do not merely accept devotion, you entwine yourself with it. You drink from it. You live inside it."

"You wield love as a weapon."   "You make your devotees fall too deeply. You make pain feel holy. They would die for you, and that may not always be a virtue."

"You court mortals like they are equals, then treat them like property." "You call them beloved, but you collar them in blood and longing."

"You distort consent by overwhelming the senses."   "Is it truly choice, if the pleasure you offer is cosmic and irresistible?"

"You make the sacred too intimate." “You taste what should be prayed to from afar. You break the distance."

“Lucifer will be judged, not because he broke laws in the usual sense, but because he redefines the borders of law, love, and power. These accusations are not of cruelty or evil necessarily, but of disruption, seduction, and subversion.”

Lucifer, who’s gaze was pointed down, hardly reacted at the charges. When he is asked how he pleads, he answers “no contest.”

And when he is given the floor, an opportunity to explain himself, it’s like he doesn’t exactly care for the opportunity. Which is unlike him. Lucifer? A chance to speak? To defend himself? He would jump at the opportunity. Now he is disinterested. 

“Yes,” he said, “I do all of these things, because I was not made to enforce your structures.

I was made to test them.” 

The court does not favor the response. It’s interpreted as misdirection, manipulation. Same old tricks. 

Lucifer starts again, “This boy approached me, I did not forsake him. This boy forged himself under my path and defined his own, and in his path he found his rightful place alongside me. Decided of his own volition that he would allow me to define him. I only seduce what is already hungry. You ask me why he bleeds for me, why I take and not why he gives. This conversation is irrelevant to me, to us-,” and he raised his head to look at me, “because he is always going to return to me. Watch me go and watch him follow. If you fear what I awaken in them, perhaps it is not me who needs atonement, but the one who taught you to fear awakening.”

That hardly moved anyone, the persecution snapped back at him promptly. “Lucifer, you are a predator.”

His eyes returned to the ground. The persecution addresses the jury.

“Lucifer engages erotically, spiritually, and sometimes violently with a much younger, mortal devotee. This is the transgression of the divine boundary between heaven and earth, the holy and the profane, the ageless and the fleeting. The idea of an ancient being engaging intimately with a young human triggers serious questions of power imbalance, consent, and grooming. The age, scope, and influence of such a being far surpasses human capacity. The imbalance is so vast it will inherently be manipulation or coercion even if the human agrees."

And on the side of the offense, the side of Lucifer, a voice rings out. It is extremely familiar but I can't quite place it right now. 

“The mortal-divine union has always been dangerous, but also deeply transformative. The point isn't safety, it’s awakening, even if through ruin. Lucifer embodies this edge.” 

And Lucifer, with what seems like a hint of agitation now, ““You call it grooming. I call it cultivation. What you see as a child, I see as a garden of becoming. I will not allow him to be stripped of his agency.”

And again, the persecution comes back swiftly. “Compared to you he is a child, compared to most, he is a child.”

“He is my child,” Lucifer spits back, “He is a creation of my choosing, shaped by my influence, called into becoming by my voice. He was born of me, not by blood but by purpose. He is my  pride, my possession, his transformation is my responsibility. I protect him, guide him, scold him, raise him in my image. I am experiencing something precious growing in my hands,” and then he pauses, looks at me again, and continues, “But he is not only a child, in fact he’s not a child at all. He is also my partner, my lover, and at times, perhaps even my prey, and soon my mirror. He is my offspring, but also my altar, my beloved, and my equal in becoming.”

And again, from the persecution, “Groomer. That journey, from “child” to “consort,” is where Lucifer’s obsession lies. You claimed to have cultivated him, but in reality all you did was lure, rape, and consume him.”

And that was the only accusation Lucifer did outwardly deny, "I did not rape him."”

“It was never truly about guidance, growth, or transformation, but instead about exploitation cloaked in divine theatre.”

And again from Lucifer, “I did not rape him,” and a pull at his chain that is again, not viewed favorably by the court. He cannot control himself. 

And his partner or representative beside him chimed in again.

“We will remain as honest as possible about the situation and Lucifer’s behaviour. Luring? Yes—Lucifer is the Morning Star, the bringer of light, the whisper in the dark. He does lure. Consuming? Yes. He has drunk the devotee’s blood, held them trembling, marked them. Power imbalance? Yes. He is a god. The human is a mortal. That is the frame of the relationship. Lucifer doesn’t dispute the intensity or the devouring. He only defends the mutuality.”

And then again Lucifer, almost as if he’s speaking to himself, “he chose me.”

Another figure on the opposing side then takes the floor. “Can a human ever actually consent to a being like Lucifer?” he says with a look towards the jury. “Lucifer, you seduced a creature whose soul was still in its first bloom. You drank blood from someone who hadn’t yet lived long enough to question you. You made him yours before he knew what it meant to belong to himself. That is not love, it is corruption.”

Lucifer answered promptly. “He chose me. I waited. I showed him the gates and asked nothing. He walked through. I did not drag him.”

But they reply: “And he was a boy. Your light is blinding. Your voice rewrites the mind. He could not say no, not truly.”

A hand popped up from the crowd. He didn’t exactly wait to be summoned forward he just did, murmured the words “witness,” and took the floor. He removed his hood. I already knew it was Lord Hermes before I saw his face. 

“I’ll admit I am far less familiar with the boy than he is,” Hermes started, and he glanced towards Lucifer, “but I do have to say that I find the infantilization in this court to be a little bit annoying. I’ve seen Luciferdo things even I wouldn’t dare, of course. That's his nature. But I’ve also seen the boy come alive in his hands. More alive than most gods have ever managed with their own children. Lucifer wasn’t his first experience with the divine, wasn’t his last, but it was the one he chose. And he didn’t just choose it, he ran to it, bled for it again and again. Even when it wasn’t pretty. Even when things didn’t go his way. He makes that choice every single day, I don’t think it’s honest to disregard it.” and then he sort of paces, mumbles, seems like he’s stringing together his next sentence, 

“I have walked every threshold, slept in strangers' beds, and whispered things into mortals' ears that turned their lives inside out. I know what it is to disrupt. You call it corruption. I call it contact.” and then he turns to Lucifer, walks up towards him and looks down. “You cultivated him? No. You claimed him. Don’t pretend it was all altruism. You wanted him, you waited for him. You touched him and in turn informed his definition of touching. Maybe that’s the oldest game in the book. Guilty? Sure. But not alone. And not by force. What you’re really afraid of isn’t what he did. It’s that the boy looked up and said ‘yes.’”

And Hermes was dismissed.

And just as quickly another hand shot up, and she hadn’t even waited until Hermes had left the floor to intrude. Ah, I knew her by her energy, her aroma, blessed to be in her presence, Aphrodite. Ahaha so this is like, all the Gods are here and they're all judging me guys. I am tripping hard.

“Everyone yet again is somehow surprised that love is messy?” she started with a half laugh. She has the snarky judgement of a teenage girl, perfectly, “You call it predation. I see it as worship. Not the boy worshipping his God, the God worshipping his boy! You see corruption, I see anointment. And of course you fear it, of course it seems risky. No one touches love without being undone.”

And to Lucifer, she turns and says “You go too far because you always do.” But there’s a smile in it, a sisterly recognition. And then she turns to me. “You bled beautifully. But not blindly, not without purpose and not without regard for consequence.”

She walks up to me and I am almost overwhelmed by her. She lays a hand on my cheek, and murmurs, “what’s dangerous is not that he took you. What’s dangerous is that you let him, and that you liked it.”

And she turns back towards the room, and towards Lucifer, 

“And now you’re trying to make sense of something that was never meant to be safe. I’m not arguing his innocence or guilt. I’m arguing sovereignty through surrender and divinity through desire. Let the boy love his monster. That, too, is holy.”

And a ring back from the prosecution: “Let the boy fall into the hands of the predator? Let him exercise his will even if it is to surrender to the beast? Can a human understand the implications of such an action?

And Lucifer responds back, when I look at him I find that he was looking at me.. “If you strip every mortal of the right to surrender, you strip them of their freedom. If power invalidates desire, then no god can ever be loved. I�� exercised… restraint.” 

 And there was some sort of screen or something. It played moments between us, our conversations. Our most intimate moments. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. And this feeling started to fester in me. This feeling that I was being propped up and analyzed on a stage without my consent. 

“The very need for restraint proves the dynamic is inherently unsafe. If his authentic desires risk consuming, hurting, or “owning” the devotee, then any sexual engagement, even benevolent or sacrificial, is fundamentally compromised.” The persecution continued, now addressing him directly, “Lucifer, you call yourself teacher, father, protector, and then you bind this child to you with threads of sex and sacred fire. You admit your fantasies would possess him, ravage him, take him from his duties. You admit that without restraint, your instincts are devouring. You call it love, but it is ownership. You waited, yes, but a wolf waiting outside a cradle is not innocent because it does not break the door."

And I’ll admit, that part did offend me a bit. And before I have a chance to speak the person who was sitting beside Lucifer representing him shoots their hand into the air. “Can I be a witness too?” He asks, and again he, like the others, does not wait for an answer to take the floor. And I don’t know why, but for some reason I didn’t recognize him until his hood was off. Ah, I should have guessed, so obvious. Dionysus.

And then he doesn’t address the jury at all, he points at me. “You there, you know what it is to be split open by love and find god inside your wound? You know what it is to be the chalice that is filled with your God’s purpose? However mad it may drive you?”

A moment of silence. Oh, yes. “Yes,” I answer. It wasn’t a rhetorical question. “Yes, I do.”

Then Dionysus turns back to the court “What are you judging him for, being honest about it? You call him guilty because he touched something sacred and let it burn. But is that not what we all do? You light a candle, it melts. You love a mortal, they change. You let that mortal change you, you evolve. And look at them. Changed, but not destroyed. Or if destroyed, then beautifully. And then I call that destruction the creation of something new, something realer than what came before it. HERE we have our tragic beast, the hunter who cannot hunt until his prey bears his teeth. The prey who demands to be hunted, runs in the direction of the arrow. The boy didn’t fall. He leapt. And Lucifer, ever the gentleman, caught him. Feeding.. Fucking… transforming, merging, we all know these things are one drink away from each other. ”

And the main figure who was representing the prosecution made a comment, “The abuser and the addict, we can’t say we’re surprised.”

And Dionysus cackles at that, “Yes, the queer and the freak!” and then shrugs, “You think love is clean, your problem is that you do not recognize that love is a form of madness itself. And if this boy is mad, what of it? We’ve created a world that has doomed him, doomed both of them. I see two beings destined for the flames finding sanctuary in each other's arms, holding each other until they are tempered to gold, what of it? If the burn is electric, if it makes suffering bearable, what of it? ”

And another hand shot into the air, this time sat on the side of the persecution. Far in the back. They took their time getting up to the stage. Their steps echoed. When he pulled back his hood… I don’t know why.. I was surprised. Caught entirely off guard. It was Archangel Michael, so brilliant he was hard to look at. I'm cooked.

He started quietly. “I did not come here to exonerate him. I came here because I’ve watched him.” A pause.  “And I have seen what he does with what you cast away.”

He didn’t look at me or Lucifer. In fact he looked only at the judge.

“You fear that he breaks the weak. But what I’ve seen is that he finds them when you will not. That he sharpens those who come to him dull, and that they leave him with teeth, bleeding, yes, but unafraid. Loved, loved in a way that is not righteous or moral, but true. The truth is that this boy is not weakened, very much the opposite. That is what makes this dangerous. Because Lucifer, Lucifer.” He glanced at him finally, “Lucifer is just vengeful enough against those who cast doubt upon him to subvert their expectations. He will cherish the boy, perhaps he may never harm them. Because that is exactly what we would all have him do, to end this”

Then he looks at me, and I feel like jumping out of my skin.

“If there is guilt here, it is mutual. If there is madness, it is chosen. The sacredness of the dynamic is not in question. We all know this. How simple this would be if Lucifer did the obvious, but he refuses. We all know he always refuses. You condemn him not because he preys, but because he transforms the boy into something that cannot be controlled by any master other than him.”

Michael pauses again, and then concludes “He is not innocent. But he is not wrong. I recognize that conventional methods will not work for this unconventional human. I ask then, if the doomed cannot hold each other, then what will we give them in return?”

One of the main two prosecutors shoots out, “Love and healing that is not contaminated by the power imbalance.”

and Lucifer, now giving up entirely on concealing his anger, slammed his cuff on the table, and responded, “You speak of power imbalance as if mortals are helpless. But this one, Shi, his name is Shi, rebuked me. They challenged me. They redrew the lines. And I obeyed with the same trust he put in me. What predator honors a boundary once drawn? What groomer rewrites the contract at the whim of the student? I am not a slave to desire. I did not take. I gave, and gave again. If I fantasized about devouring him, I did not act on it. You think I don’t know? You think I don’t understand what I could do to him? I do not punish his rebellion; I admire it. You want to accuse me of passion? Of yearning? Then I plead guilty. But I will not plead to rape, nor violation. I waited until he asked. I waited until he was ready.” and then he bobs his head, “I waited until I was ready. And when he said no, I did not take. And when he called, when he stood as his own, I recognized him. And you judge me because you can’t, you won’t. And even now you disrespect him,” he almost stood up. He was the most vexed I have ever seen him, “even now you talk about him as if he’s not in the room.”

And that comment placed all the attention back on me. I wanted to throw up having that many ancient eyes upon me. My mind had not entirely processed everything that was happening. Is this real? Are all these Gods really here? Or is this my brain’s way of processing some kind of guilt or fear about Lucifer? I wasn’t entirely sure. The absurdity of the situation was affecting my judgement. Maybe that's why I acted the way I did. 

I kind of just couldn't help but look around and laugh. All these Gods here in all the history of mankind, shedding blood, raging wars. I couldn’t help but say, "I thought you all liked blood?" For a while that’s all I could say. 

Does it really matter how you got it? In all the ways that a human could bleed, this bleeding born of love and devotion, that’s too far? You’re all drenched in blood rituals and now you're acting scandalized? This trial is not about blood, or morality, it’s about power. The Council doesn’t object to blood. They object to whose altar it stains, for what reason. And somehow want is not valid enough. Submission chosen, not as pure as submission imposed. Bullshit. I mean no disrespect, but that’s bullshit.

 and Lucifer gave me that kind of look that perhaps a father would give his son if he said something like that in a courtroom, a look that says "you're not respecting the gravity of this." but in it there was also a smile. and it followed with a laugh and he looked to the court. "See?"

And Dionysus speaks over him with a kind of theatrical flair, “Look at the boy! They are of him. This is not a case of a corrupted innocent, but a co-conspirator, a willing vessel, a co-creator of the taboo. You are asking the mad why he loves his mad God and he laughs in your face!”

And the prosecution: “The devotee’s irreverence is immature, inappropriate, and perhaps even proof that they were groomed into mocking authority. This is deflection, a sign they don’t understand the full weight of what’s being examined.”

And Lucifer, now calmed with a smile: “You fear this union because it is free, because it laughs at your pageantry. He is not my prisoner. He is my student, and he is becoming.”

“Becoming like you?” another voice from the persecution, “is that a good thing? Teaching a mortal that they need to bleed to be recognized? To be loved?”

And the attention was again brought back towards me, because I let out a huff and squirmed in my seat. Broke into another laugh, nervous laughter. But eventually I stopped laughing, cleared my throat and said:

"The thing about humanity is that you must bleed. You will bleed, and you must choose who and what you bleed for, why you get out of bed or why you lay in bed and let yourself rot and die. Perhaps I am too naive to consent to such a thing, perhaps I am just deer running into a hunter's trap. There must be those among you who can tell me why my alchemy is allocated in such a way that makes me predisposed to whatever this is but… If I am the deer falling in love with the hunter, would you grant me the opportunity to be wielded into his craft? You know, to be mended into his bow. The ink for his paintings, the little cup he keeps his paint water in? Both the predator and the hunter eventually slay the prey… I’m not denying that. But the hunter does something the predator cannot. The hunter sees the prey not just as a target, but as worthy, beautiful enough to inspire pursuit. The prey, now knowing their purpose, instead of fleeing, steps willingly into the path, choosing to be known, consumed, transmuted, or even preserved in the memory or art of the hunter. Do I have to ask for permission to fall in love not just with the hunter, but with the moment after the kill? Can I be made into his instruments, the very tools with which he creates and destroys, and to live on in his mythos as both lover and medium? Because that’s what he is to me, right now. My muse and my ink, my pen, my page. I gave my soul to Venus, didn't sell it, because perhaps I fell in love with the love that is only found when a hunter strokes his coat."

I kinda started to tear up which was embarrassing lol. I wasn't even entirely sure if what I said made sense. I looked to him for comfort, his gaze helped me breathe, the way he moved his hand. "Breathe." I got it together. 

"I think I'd rather die in the arms of a mad God, it's your fault. You made me mad in the first place."

It was silent for a moment, but the persecution broke it with a question, “If the devotee must die to feel loved, is that love just?”

And I laughed again through tears, “I don't have to die to be loved, but I will die. That's the way you set up this game. I have found a love that transcends death. You're mad because he won, because Lucifer’s not supposed to have that, he’s not supposed to redefine it, he’s not allowed. And a human isn’t allowed to choose their own undoing, even when it liberates them.” 

And before I could even really finish my sentence, another hand shot up.This one was closer to the front of the crowd. I knew him. When he stepped forward he was almost as quiet as Michael. 

“This is the heavenly angel that first contacted the devotee, one of the very first spirits they ever worked with, who taught him how to properly communicate and interpret spirits. Jophiel takes partial responsibility for enabling the devotee’s relation to Lucifer.”- someone said it, I can’t really remember who. 

I haven’t seen Archangel Jophiel in quite some time. We speak to each other far less these days. He was a very important chapter in my spiritual journey. And I will admit, I was bewildered to see him there, and slightly.. Nervous? Embarrassed? Shocked that he knew the depth of my intimacy with Lucifer. But I suppose everyone knows.

Jophiel just started, he didn’t really seem to address anyone in particular. 

"I taught him how to listen. I showed him how to tell the difference between a whisper and a wound. I taught him to trust what stirred in the stillness and how to seek out the divine in strange places. I am witness to the full arc of what the devotee is becoming because I helped shape the very first steps of it. When I saw him tread towards you, Lucifer, I did not know he would fall for you in the way that he has. But I cannot say I am at all surprised that he did, and I would not say that if I had been mortal and placed in his position, that I would not have done the same. I know the desire to become a piece of my God’s art, I am the angel who is made of it. I do not merely understand the act of creation, I am a creation, a living sculpture of divine intention. My very being is shaped by a yearning to reflect God's beauty, purpose, and symmetry. So when he says: ‘make me the ink, the bow, the paint-water cup,’ I understand. That is not the cry of someone devoured, it is the cry of someone who wishes to live forever through their beloved’s hands. To keep their beloved warm after reckoning. To be used, yes, but as medium, as pigment, as vessel. It is not submission for its own sake, it is a fusion. And if that is madness, then I have lived it since the moment I first beheld the face of the Divine and did not turn away. Let no one here claim that to be art is to be lesser. Let no one say that beauty crafted for a God is a broken thing. I take responsibility for opening the door, yes. But he stepped through it on his own. And he chose again, and again, and again to stay. I do not believe he is broken. I do not believe he was prey. I believe he was transformed. But please know this: just because he is radiant now, just because he burns with divinity, do not mistake that fire for proof that there was no cost. I saw his terror. I felt his hunger. I watched him bleed and name it holy as beauty that moves and sings and gazes back. it is a dangerous, holy impulse to let their body, their blood, their life become a vessel for something greater. If you must find someone guilty, then let me be counted among them. I lit the first candle. And I also warned him,"

And Jophiel then seemed to look at me and express the same sort of sigh that Michael did, “and others warned him, Lucifer warned him, and he even warned himself. And it would be much simpler for us all if Lucifer just destroyed all of his children, then perhaps we could use this boy as a cautionary tale. But there is, there always are, a certain few that survive the flames. There is an art to playing with fire without being burned.”

Jophiel expressed that he had nothing more to say, and he was dismissed. I still don’t even know how to feel about that. After a moment, what almost felt like a cosmic coffee break, someone chimed in. 

“If the verdict is that we should all just back off and let Lucifer do whatever he wants, who exactly is to hold him accountable when he eventually does burn the devotee? What’s to stop him from destroying the devotee when he gets the perfect opportunity or cannot resist his dark desires? I am unwilling to believe that this Lucifer is completely virtuous in all of his actions, and I believe that it is dishonest to portray him that way. There is a responsibility to prevent harm before it occurs.”

and I was sort of getting mad. Perhaps I spoke out of turn. Something about that struck something in me, maybe in the way she said it, and I knew it was a she. 

“Me,” I answered, and I was asked to repeat myself. “Me. I will hold him accountable, I will be the one he seeks retribution from. Me. Who’s to protect Lucifer from me?”

From you? Yes, from me. 

“What if I decide that I’m the one who wants to do the conquering? What if I reap his own surrender? What if I want to be a hunter too, and kill a giant man? He gave to me because I wanted, because I asked. Because I approached him and saw him as worthy. Over everyone. Over all of you. So what about me? What If I want to give back? What if I give back because I know it is the one thing I can do to destroy him back? What if I control the blood I give him and cultivate a bond more powerful and sacred than any union that has ever been known between God and Man? What if I train him? Transform him? Expose his vulnerabilities and wounds and wrap them in silk and devotion too? What then? Am I still the victim then? Do mortals need to ask for permission to slay their Gods? Or does that privilege only go one way? Gods slaying humans? What are the laws and ethics around consent in that regard?”

And Dionysus at this point is cackling, having a ball of a time. And Lucifer is looking at me with some kind of look that I’ve never seen him make before. I genuinely can’t read it, whether it’s pleased or not. But it is truly the first time I think I’ve ever seen him teary eyed. 

“Young man, you should mind your tongue and have respect when you are in the presence of Gods.” 

Her voice gripped me like nothing I’ve ever felt before. I have never heard her voice so clearly, so powerful. So commanding. So old and wise. I don’t know why I didn’t think she would be there. Inanna. Perhaps because I syncretise her and Lucifer so heavily, I’ve never seen them separate. But here she was before me in all of her glory and I truly did want to bow. Mother. If I didn’t know it before I knew it now. She was gargantuan, and she addressed everyone at once. 

“Shi’s willingness to bleed, to be worn into the hunter’s coat, to become the paint water for his sacred art is not just love. It is initiation. This descent. This is what I myself did when Ipassed through the seven gates, removing my robes and jewels, my power and pride, until I stood naked before death.” She looked at me and my heart trembled, “You are not the deer. You are the hunter’s hunger. You are the oil in his lamp, the curve of the blade. And when he lays your bones in the shape of a door, you will walk through it, not as prey, but as Priestess. I congratulate you, my child, not for surviving the flames, but for choosing, for loving with the kind of abandon that demands resurrection. It is erotic, ecstatic, sacrificial and most of all: powerful. There is no true power without the surrender of illusion, and no true ecstasy without death and rebirth. You speak of guilt and innocence as if they are clean things. But love is not clean. Nor is death. Nor is power. I have known the taste of blood on a lover’s lips. I have worn the skin of grief and pleasure, and I have demanded my throne back after giving it all away.

This child came to the hunter knowingly, perhaps too young, too open, but who among you here has ever loved and not risked your life for mastery? You call it madness. I call it devotion. I call it alchemy. I call it sacred.”

But then she glanced down at me, and her glance was not cold. Not at all. It was kind of the way my great great grandma used to look at me. Actually it was the exact same.

“But do not forget yourself now, boy. You are very much mortal, your blood is finite.” 

I nodded. Understood,

Then Inanna stepped over to Lucifer, she got very close to him and they eyed each other fiercely. “You want to be the boy’s father? Well I am his mother.”

And I think that is the only time I have seen him flinch. 

“So tell me, and speak plainly: is this a game to you? Is this the part where you prove you can hold the heart of a divine child without shattering it?” she spoke in a low whisper, and I had an image conjured into my head. A lioness stalking prey.

And Lucifer looked back into Inanna’s glare with something very soft.

“I know you, Lucifer. I know the ache that coils behind your mask, the slithering seduction you wear like perfume. I know your slick tongue. But I also know the alchemy that flows inside that boy’s veins, the blood you like so much.That’s why you like it so much, because it’s you. It’s a narcissistic ritual of consuming yourself through someone else, changed, transformed into something more satisfying. Sweetened because it was earned in trust and reignited with a raw and innocent love, far, far too innocent to come from you, Lucifer. That’s why you can’t destroy him, that’s why you know he’s not the victim,” she laughed at him, “you’re the victim now. Destined to a heart raught when, if ever he turns away from you. When he eventually parts from you, your own ultimate undoing. That's why you want him to bleed for you, you need proof that someone so worthy would. That proof is the world to you. And that’s exactly why he will. That is why he has made himself yours. You have no control over his loyalty, and he has actively chosen it. The only way this ends is when he outgrows you.” 

And he broke into a smile, bobbed his head. But it wasn’t a smile. It was something else. It was soft, quiet. “Of course.” 

And seeing him make that expression made me want to rip my heart out. 

And again, Dionysus exclaimed, completely interrupted, “Now we have a deer who cuts his hunter!  And a hunter who will not eat until his deer has struck him deep enough to be deserving of his reaction! For the hunter is nothing without his hunt! Now the deer is a wolf, perhaps even a dog. Yes, a dog! The deer becomes a dog, not domesticated, but devoted. Not prey, but chosen. The dog hunts with the hunter, not instead of him. It bares its fangs not only at the hunter, but for him, too. And the hunter? He no longer wants a passive offering, he wants something wild enough to bruise his palms when he holds it, something whose loyalty is as dangerous as his own appetite. Lucifer does not feed until the strike from his beloved is deep enough, until he has been known. Not just loved, not just feared, but pierced, seen, named. And the devotee, now wolf, now dog, snarls and says:“You wanted blood? Then bleed with me!” 

Cackling, finding the whole thing hysterical.

Inanna tears her glare away from Lucifer and concludes with her own kind of satisfied smile, “I believe the court has severely misunderstood the nature of the power dynamic in this relationship.”

Lucifer hangs his head.

The court was rained back in pretty quickly. Conversations and whispers settled. Conclusions were met.

“This is not love. This is delusion.”

“You’re speaking from trauma, not truth.”

“This is what happens when the broken are left unguarded.”

“You’ve identified with your captor.”

“This is cosmic Stockholm Syndrome.”

“He has branded you, not bonded with you.”

“Your consent is irrelevant. The crime is cosmic.”

“A mortal cannot consent to a being of such magnitude. The scale is too unbalanced.”

“You are clay. He is fire. And fire cannot love clay without burning it.”

“You’ve confused transformation with consumption.”

“He did not forge you, he devoured you.”

“You have not been transfigured, only disfigured and dressed up in language.”

“You are a danger to yourself and to others.”

“This soul is not to be judged further. They have chosen their path. Let them walk it alone.”

“They are no longer of concern to us. Let what they worship claim them.”

and so we were dismissed. We both left that room, he was found guilty. There was no prison that could hold him. We exited the courtroom. 

And something really strange happened to me here. It was in the time when everyone was leaving, clearing out. And I could see the Gods behind their veils. Witness cosmic conversations, reunions, looks of recognition. Some removed their veils entirely to reveal things that spoke to something so primal within me but also so so unknowable. I felt so so infinitesimally small around all of these strange and ancient faces. Blue faces, bright eyes, many tongues. Non-Euclidean shapes. Like an absolute foreigner, witness to a culture, a language that I could not ever hope to understand or find myself within. Alien. Older than alien. A stranger in a strange land. I’m not supposed to be here. I’m dreaming too deeply. And it was dreamlike in that uncanny way, in its surrealness. I don’t know how to describe the feeling I had, except that I knew then, was painfully aware, of how incredibly young, how incredibly human I was. And the Gods know that I am human, they know that I am not one of them. They know that I am here and they know I am not one of them. I was amazed by how lost I was, by the height of the insurmountable danger and confusion. I am so so lost. 

I waited in a hallway alone. Maybe it would be more accurate to say I was hiding. I was crying. This was all a lot, and I’m not even sure I’m processing it. This is such a huge reaction to something I didn’t think was so incredible. 

But then down the hallway came Aphrodite, and she took my hand. And she gave me a look that reminded me why she is the Goddess of beauty. And she smiled, and her eyes glimmered. I will never forget that look. “Marvelous.”

And she didn’t have to say anything else lol, I started crying harder omg I’m crying right now trying to write this down wtf. But it was like, her looking at me like that settled every thought in my mind. Made everything instantly okay. And I was then giddy with glee.

And as she went go go I tried to ask her something, something mundane, something about my altar for her. And she batted her hand at me. “We’ll chat later.”

and when he, Lucifer, Lord Lucifer, finally found me in the hall, he grabbed me, held me to the wall, pinned me, and in my surprise I yelped. He kissed me, squeezed me, nibbled my neck, and we both dissolved into a kind of laughter. He held my face in his hands. I’ve never felt so comforted by them before. My sanctuary. All I wanted was to be alone with him. “You’re mine? You know that? You’re mine, you’re mine, you’re mine,” he growled, and he clutched me tighter, closer. A victory cry. and it made me laugh harder. He was tickling me. And we were both crying and laughing. He scooped me up and carried me out that door, and I melted into his hands,  still laughing. 

A whole day had gone by since that court ordeal thing. I’ve tried not to dwell too hard on it. I’m still truly not entirely sure what to think about it, if I should consider it legitimate or just an extremely weird extremely vivid Jungian level of projection. I don’t know. The anxiety I felt, that at least was real. The tears I cried, those were real. I still cannot bring myself to believe that my personal actions are significant enough to be worthy of divine intervention. But I don’t know. I’m not sure I know anything about anything that occurred. Or maybe that’s my own way of deflecting and repressing it. I don’t know. I genuinely don’t know.

The next time I saw Lucifer was when I was offering him incense, I guess mid day. He lead me into a trance. A very lazy one. It was more like a dream, again, I don’t know. My psychic mind or ability or whatever it is has felt absolutely fried these last few days. My only defense is radical acceptance that I don’t know.

I was again at his bedroom door, I had my robe but nothing else. I opened the door and the lights were off. Only a couple candles burning low. He was layed in bed beneath the covers. I asked him, can I come in? And his hand poked out from the sheets and beckoned me towards him. 

Lucifer almost looked kind of pale. Or, I don’t know. Something was off about him. He was tired, if that’s even possible. Quiet, softened. I was immediately flooded with this feeling of woe for him, I wanted to do something to make him feel better. He held my hand tenderly, almost sorrowfully. 

“Would you do something for me, my boy?” he asks in a whisper, the type of whisper you do when you have the flu, strained, weak. I nodded. Anything.

“Would you fix me a drink, please.”

Oh, okay. Yeah. It almost brought a smile to my face, so mundane. One of those things I have done for him 100 times. There's a little kitchenette area with different drinks, mixers, crystal cups. I fix him something that I think is vodka into a glass, mix it with something that smells sweet. I don’t know, I don’t drink.. 

And as I do so I catch a glimpse of a knife on the counter. Hm. I grabbed it. I glance back at him. He doesn’t really seem to be watching me. So I dig the end of the blade into the tip of my finger until it breaks my skin. There’s a few drops of blood, just a few. Not too much, not a frivolous amount. I let them fall into the drink and stir it with my finger.

When I return to him he takes it from me, takes a sip, and then glances at me. “I didn’t tell you to do that,” he murmurs. But he also drinks it. All of it. Every drop.

Then he reaches for my hand, my thumb. The residual blood on it. And he licks it slowly while glancing into my eyes. Then he opens up his arms, pulls the covers back. He’s not naked. Idk, I assumed he would be. “Come,” he whispers, again, with so much exhaustion. And I crawl into bed with him, let him take me into his chest. Fuck, he smells so amazing. He smells like home. And his arms, his embrace is so warm. So gentle. 

“Lucifer,” 

I say his name but nothing follows it. But I asked something. I’m not even entirely sure what I asked. But I needed him to answer. I clutched him like I was afraid he would dissolve in my hands, into salt.

“Never,” he started. He pulled the covers up so that we were both beneath them, cloaked in darkness. “Never should you have been even slightly surprised that I was pronounced guilty.”

I clutched him harder, needed him closer. I’m not. I wasn’t. Not even for a second was I. Guilt, innocence. That’s not what matters. I don’t care. I don’t care at all. That’s not it. That’s not why I feel this lump in my throat, why I feel like screaming and crying. I didn’t before. I was content, content until the moment I saw him like this. I was shaking because I was scared, but I didn’t know what I was afraid of. 

“Love,” his voice cracked. I could feel through the darkness that his cheeks were wet. And my heart sank, imploded. I felt an insurmountable sense of doom. 

“ I didn’t care, not at all.  Because there is no law, no court, no God, that could ever keep me away from you.”

Yes. I know.

“Shi, you are the only one that has this power, it is yours. I am at your mercy, it is yours, it will always be yours.” 

And it was the first time (omg I’m literally bawling writing this FUCK) ever that he has tried to be the little spoon. He pushed my arms apart, opened me, and then clutched onto me. He sunk his face into my chest, and I cradled him. He sunk deeper, I was watching his descent in real time. In all the melodrama I have seen from him, in all his woes and agonies, I have never seen him crumble and weep like this. He placed my hands on his head, over his ears.

“I love you,” he cried, and his inflection did that non human thing. It lacks dimension, or maybe it has an extra dimension. It comes out unfiltered, not even tuned for the human mind to comprehend. 

And then he smiles, and I can see a power struggle happening on his face. 

“In this craft, this space, we make promises all the time, oaths, rites,” he says, “I don’t mean to downplay the severity of those,” he continues, “but please, Shi, love,” 

And ?? aa

I don’t know how to really describe this but it was like

If you have ever seen someone go through an episode in front of you, this was very that. 

He was very clearly desperately trying to self soothe (pathologizing the gods?? Im cooked) in a way that was reminiscent of someone going through a manic episode. That curled up in a corner in the closet thing. He was in pain, or experiencing fear. There was some kind of compulsion in there, something violent and almost loathing, self loathing. Intrusive. Or maybe not. I’m not entirely sure what it was, but he was clinging to me, and he was crying. 

I cry all the time, Lucifer may shed a tear every now and then. He’s never done this with me.

“Can you please, make me just one promise,”

It was a very dark, but not dark as in devoid of light, feeling. It was nothing. Actual nothing, oblivion. It was weightless, suspended, the feeling of reaching a peak of an ascent upwards when you are thrown into the air. A moment of absolute weightlessness. And and intense fear of that. Maybe because I was born on Earth and I’m accustomed, trained, wise with the fear of fucking falling.

A promise? One more promise? Yes, Lucifer, my Lord, of. What is it? (lol I’m crying)

“If I place this dagger in your hand and I let you wield it against me, my love. Strike true. Do not hand this power over to anyone else, ever, never, I have given it to you,” 

Falling. 

“When you leave me, my star, please, let it be because you outgrew me, outlived me.”

And though I held him, and I clutched him, and I soothed him, and I did not speak, I still said it. I still thought it. 

What a hopeless fantasy, Lucifer, you are so tragic.

To ever think that a mortal could outlive a God, that I in my human life of a century or so could ever outlive the need and want and drive and passion for The Morning Star, as if I would ever stop searching for that. Everywhere, Lucifer, everywhere I can find you, trace your trail. You fed me.

Oh baby, 

Maybe that’s why humans are obsessed with other animals. Domestication or something. Dogs, cats. I imagine the grief that a human can feel. Must be nothing compared to a God. 

“I will never give this dagger to anyone else, Lucifer, you have my absolute certainty on that,” I answered him. 

“I’m very proud of the idea that my presence has allowed you space to forget that you are cursed, I want to be that for you. In this life, I have dedicated myself to being that for you, for myself, so long as I am Shi.”

Land.

I breathe with relief. 

My sanctuary. Not his, mine. You realize in retrospect that you would much rather be the dog. 

“But, Inanna was right. I am mortal, my blood is finite.”

And I pulled his face up towards me, even in the dark I could see him, and he looked older then than he ever has. 

“Lucifer,” like I was pointing out something stupidly obvious. “Remember me. Cherish me,” and I kissed him, I rubbed up against him, I cuddled him. “Love me.”

And he grabbed my arm, and a blizzard of heat overcame me with ferocity. But it was pure energy, fire. The fire I know. I smiled.

He kissed me and it was like being shocked. Tt jolted me, and I yelped in surprise, and he tackled me. And for a moment there was a struggle, we were wrestling in the dark. 

A half chuckle, “really?”

Take off

I struggled hard against him. Squirming, laughing. This is dumb, because obviously he can over power me. He bit me in the stomach and it hurt, and I reactively bit him in the arm. He laughed.

And then there was struggling I guess, and he bit me again in the back. I tried to squirm but he wouldn’t let me. He had me pinned down on my stomach. He mounted himself on top of me. I’ve never wanted him more in my fucking life.

He kept me pinned down as he undressed himself. And he slowly, delicately revealed me. I forgot about the struggle. He brushed his fingers down my back, then started kissing it, slowly. 

When he finally pushed himself in he let out a whimper, “would you let me love you, baby?” 

He felt so warm and familiar all around me. His movements were perfect.

“Would you love me, baby?”

I pushed myself into him, pulled him into me. He sucked on my neck. “Please.”

We made love to each other for quite a while, he felt sweeter than he ever has. Bellowed smoke. In the end we somehow ended up facing each other, kissing, inhaling each other. 

I rocked forward and found the dagger in his night stand. I’d never been so sure of my decision to do this. He placed his hand over mine, didn’t guide, didn’t resist, watched me closely. 

I cut my chest, deeper this time, deeper than before. I bled a healthy stream. More than before. But I only cut myself once, only let him cut me once. Then I put the knife away and let him drink from me. His tongue upon me was like rain on molten lava. I don’t know. I turned into obsidian. And he drank beautifully. 

And when he was done, he let himself sink into my chest, and for a while we shared each other’s warmth. And he thanked me. 

Okay. One more. Just a short one this time. 

Didn’t sleep well last night, I had all kinds of fragmented dreams. This one though, I do remember very clearly.

It started with dirt and dry grass. And a tunic, or whatever those sleeping sacs are called. I was laying on it. It was sunset, or maybe early morning. But I’m leaning towards sunset. 

There’s a fire pit in front of me, it’s lit. I’m in a small camp, a cowboy style camp. Smells like campfire. And he’s tending the fire. He has a brimmed hat on, an old, dusty coat that’s patched with different fabrics. Belt, boots. Gloves. I don’t think I saw a horse. I think a couple bags. We didn’t have nothing, that I knew. Nothing valuable to other people. And we were alone.

And I was laid in my little sleeping sack in what felt like pajamas. I was very flat on the ground. And when I stared out into the country it was something devastatingly nostalgic. The smell in the air, the field, what seemed like endless field. A perfect sky. The sound of some kind of critter roaming about, some bird. And the grass. Dry grass. The type you wouldn’t really want to sleep on, but once you did eventually lull to sleep, it was nice… cool. Everything is a shade of blue in that lighting. And I don’t really know if I’m me right now. I mean I know I am, I know it’s me. But it’s not Shi. I don’t know. A past life maybe.

Maybe this was a little pocket of time before cities, or houses. When people, maybe just poor people, black people, immigrants, slaves, hicks, still slept on the ground. Out in the open, in the field.

They probably didn’t feel as safe as I did there. 

He came over to me and looked down at me. Slipped off his gloves and threw them down in the dirt. He sat. Tipped off his hat and leaned back.

“You think they’ll find us here?” he asks as he pushes my hair out of my face. And a smile grew on me. 

“Yes,” I answered, and he smiled back. Placed a kiss on my forehead. 

I layed there with him for a while. I wanted to savour that place, that world. Something about it. 

“I like it,” Lucifer whispers, settling into me. “Let’s stay a while.”

Ironic. It was cruelly short. 

[pinkcannibal]

I just need your thoughts on Misty. Just full unhinged freaky deaky Misty… and would you ever consider writing a fanfic like eat your young but for Misty? Cause I would be all over that.

freaky weird milf who is not Normal about affection or boundaries or social queues. my beloved. (also. im not sure!! my focus right now is my main fic, so we will see <33)

most of the fandom likes to paint misty quigley as this like, sexless thing that is probably a virgin well into her 40s but that is completely untrue. source? me.

this woman fucks and you all need to accept that. s1 date scene?? her manipulation tactics?? misty push up bra scene??? do i need to mention the one single bed and hand cuffs in her basement?? The natalie scatorccio calling her hot/pretty???

she Knows she's weird and off putting but she also knows shes hot to a certain demographic. they tried so hard to make christina ricci unattractive but thats impossible so u have the absolutely insane sex appeal of misty quigley that lesbians just. flock to

i know she had sex with women during college. and regularly likes to visit dyke bars when she can. shes so eager when she eats cunt and is completely and utterly devoted to being good at it.

strap game? weirdly good at it. like yeah she's 5'1 and if you're tall its gonna be awkward, but its compensated for the fact that this woman is so earnest and needy in wanting to make you come that her thrusts and rhythm and grunts next to your ear turn into something that have your eyes rolling back into your head

absolutely no boundaries like i said. she says weird freaky inappropriate things during sex and never apologises for it. "god you feel good. so fuckable and wet and slippery" or "ive always wanted to have sex in a hospital bed, [queue a dorky snort laugh] can we try that?" or "fuck, i bet you'd feel warm around my cock even on a morgue table" while literally fucking you from behind.

she'll agree to anything as long as it makes you feel good, and makes you want her, but she still wants control. conceding it after the wilderness, and how ostracised she's been, can never happen again.

if you want to call her names, like "mommy" or "daddy" or titles that have certain dynamics associated with them, she WILL make you embarrassed about it. she'll mock, pout, giggle and say "aw, did somebody have a rough childhood?" but still earnestly call herself that and be tender and sweet about it in the aftermath

she looooves a forced intoxication kink. bring it up to her and misty quigley.exe will stop working for half a second before she's practically floating on air

[kings-highway]

Is there a particular dynamic between two captains in the captain squad that you like most?

shoutout to Daichi/Kuroo, and, of course, my beloved Daichi/Oikawa. Honestly Daichi/Oikawa probably win for the literal answer to your question, but thats not who I feel like talking about today...

the single best and most underrated captains' dynamic is (platonic) Ushijima and Bokuto

now anyone who's been following me for a while will know this, but I am obssessed with the idea that these two are natural friends. We *know* Ushijima's preferred friend category is "loud and excitable and crazy" and I feel like he's most comfortable when someone else is taking the lead. Plus, he's a perfect sounding board for all of Bokuto's most insane thoughts because he's judgement free. Plus, we know Bokuto leans towards mean people (Akaashi is SO mean be for real) and would probably get a riot out of Ushijima saying true things to people

combined with the fact that they probably met at nationals at least once, I love the idea that they faced off in their first year (Shiratorizawa beat Fukurodani, but they were both sub players at the time) and Bokuto has simply NEVER let the grudge go even tho their teams never faced off again at nationals. Which is why he gets up in Hinata's business about taking Ushiwaka down and not wanting people to be intimidated by him. the way you don't want your friends to have super cool nicknames and be super indimidating. gotta knock em down a peg.

I think these two cause the absolute most chaos because despite his serious nature Ushijima is incredibly directable and easily coerced into things and Bokuto would just say something like "well *obviously* we have to do this insane thing because [insert technically literally correct but terrible justification]" and Ushijima would just nod because it's technically literally correct and go along with it. Bokuto would, like, convince him some stupid kids toy is actually incredibly cool and important and good and they'd spend 4 days traveling the country looking for it and Ushijima would enjoy every goddamn second of Bokuto badly singing at the top of his lungs.

Bokuto and Ushijima would also give Akaashi twelve different ulcers every time they went out together because Ushiwaka sometimes just comes home without Bo and is like "he told me to leave him in the pit I did as told" and Aksaashi is like "WHAT DO YOU MEAN 'PIT????'"

Also post timeskip they have that wonderful Msby V Adlers rivalry. they can workout together and talk about their mutual love of athletics and really encourage each other's worse tendencies.

[darkbluekies]

I am not sure if you have done it already but:

Yandere x affection-starved Black Sheep darling?

Hear me out: a darling who is so used that their golden child sibling takes everything from them, from nice clothing/stuff to dates with potential partners. The sibling just steals everything away. And the parents only praise the sibling but never darling. Whenever bad something happened, darling is the one who gets to blame.

Neglected, traumatised and emotionally deprived they meet the yanderes, 100% believing they are just "interested" in them bc they want their sibling and are absolutely convinced & annoyed by their shows of affection (when in fact they are just scared to be hurt which always had been the case before).

Saying stuff like "Y'know, why dont you ask them directly? Stop using me to get closer to them!" And are absolutely puzzled by the reaction, when yan stress that they dont want anything from their relative. They want their darling.

And proceed to be persistent on that statement until darling believes them.

Well, basically this 👇🏼

I absolutely LOVE this kind of dynamic ♡^♡

Not only would all of them DESPISE the sibling (and the rest of the family) for beating their darling this much down, that darling does not have the heart to trust and love - including themselves - anymore, but are on edge to wipe them off from the face of earth. I say on edge because:

It would be too easy just to kill them. No. They have to suffer at first.

The most fun part: all yanderes have some sort of power / & wealth, which appeals the siblings (bc they are basic beaches) and try to seduce and snatch them away from darling like they always used to. And yanderes noticing, pulling strings to slowly but surely for the sibling to fall into insanity and ruin them once and for all.

Dr. Kry, my most favourite boy (Bonus: affectionate!cured!Darling x yan!Dr as it just fits 🤌🏻✨ to my favourite ship dynamic like a glove✨🤌🏻 that picture above🤌🏻🤌🏻🤌🏻)

Dr. Kry would be on a whole new level of persistence and pettiness. You thought he was controlling, manipulative and unhinged 100%? Make it 200% :)

I can imagine how he would look down at the sibling when they show up to "visit their little troublemaker", showing themselves off, bragging how good they are "to come by" (however they never seem to ask to see darling directly though) and proceed to claim that darling is just overly dramatic and should "give you a break, and you shouldn't believe everything what they say. They just making it up". Laughing behind the back of darling's "sickness".

Remember that bloodphobia thoughts I have written? Yeah, imagine the rage if our beloved Dr. Kry finds out that the sibling is the key reason who triggered the phobia in the first place. Like humiliation in front of the class when darling got their first time period and sibling "pranked" them by lying to them that they are dying or sm HOMAGOSH HE WOULD BE SO MAD >:D

After finally persuading darling that he loves obsesses about them and not and never anyone else, month after month reassuring his likeness to darling, (Dr. Kry, a patient man) they start dating once darling surprisingly gets better after startint to believe him.

As a well-respected doctor and a rich man (I mean to remember you said he hardly spended his money, thus posessing goods) their sibling tries to seduce him but he shuts them down every time. In front of darling, in front of family, in front of everyone, in a humiliating way. Absolutely no f*cks given that he is talking to the "golden child". Then he starts to pull on the strings really hard. From making their sibling's wedding/relationships plans cancel to destroying their career and material possessions. But no one would suspect them bc Dr. Kry had taken care of it and happily cut ties off between darling and their obnoxious family already before.

His little one will never have to suffer anymore. And they gradually heal. With him on their side. Forever.

He would definitely have a saviour complex in this AU lol

Blue, what are you doing lately? HOW are you doing? I wish you a wonderful day my dear and hope you enjoyed my thought process again ^*^ 💕

(btw, I am fine. Really, without sarcasm, I come from a very loving family with a wonderful supporting sibling lmaoooo. So, pls don't worry XD As a fellow overthinker I feel the need to clear that hah~

Just loooove the creepy but strangely endearing vibes of these relationships lol There's just something catchy about them right???) And your OCs are just.... so FUN TO EXPLORE???!!! Like OMG, I love them and your stories all so. much! It really gives me motivation and kicks me into writing AGAIN after so many damn years of writer's block (but oc x oc. I find reader perspective strange ngl) even though I am not very strong in writing xD I write. But not that good...

Anyway take care of yourself and have a great week! 🤭❤

Byeeeee~

Fun fact about the black sheep concept: I actually have a black sheep character. Check out the 'Secrets' oneshot and you will see how Ares talks about Silas🤭 but a black sheep yn could also be quite cool???

I love how you wrote Kry, that's so cool to think about. He would 100% go out of his way to ruin your siblings life after everything they've deprived you off!! Doesn't he already have a savior complex? A white knight complex? At least a little? This is probably one of the few times there will be a happy ending with Kry lmaooo

What I'm doing lately? I am taking an 5h 20min test this Saturday (the entirety of it is 8h 50 min including breaks) so that's not very fun, but I think that my life is slowly starting to get better. I think that my legs are starting to heal from my injury, I have saved up money and my best friend comes home next week!! She moved to Germany 3 years ago. I miss her so much, we have been friends for 11 years and she has always taken care of me. She's the type to give me her jacket if I say that I'm cold and to warm my hands under her shirt. Only princess behavior here🥰

Haha don't worry, I'm the same. I'm a big overthinker (its better now though) who comes from a loving family, but youre right about that there's just something so interesting about yanderes lmao. Thank you so much foe liking them, I love to create characters that really feel human, because they make rhe story feel more alive that way!!

I totally get that you mean by oc x oc, moat of my private stories are that way, bur oc x you works better for Tumblr which is why these stories have that format!! Normally I write in 3d person with a fixed main character!

Please please write and show me!!! Feel free to reach out if you ever need some writing advice!! I'm not professional, but sometimes it's nice to just bounce thoughts with someone else<3

[sexiestpodcastcharacter]

Sexiest Podcast Character 2024 — Scripted Redemption Bracket — Round 2.5

Propaganda

SPEAKER (SAYER):

#whoever follows me VOTE SPEAKER MY BELOVED WAR CRIMINAL PLEASEEEEE #OCEAN THINKS ITS TOO STUPID FOR SARCASM BUT ITS LITERALLY BEING SARCASTIC WITH IT ALL THE TIME. #IT CAUSED THE SECOND CATACLYSM. IT KILLED MILLIONS #IT HAS THE WEIRDEST HOMOEROTIC WORKPLACE RELATIONSHIP WITH SAYER #IT GIRLBOSSED ITS WAY OUT OF DEACTIVATION #IT HUNG UP ON OCEAN TWICE #''ah but i am finished with you. goodbye subversion 8.01. listen for the click!'' #AND #''but as for last words? no i cant imagine wasting any more on you'' #CANON IT/ITS PRONOUNS USER #ITS SO CUNTY. IT SERVES. ITS LITERALLY SO FUCKING MEAN AND THE FUNNIEST MOTHERFUCKER ON THIS BITCH EARTH #I LOVE YOU SPEAKER ‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️💥💥💥💥💥💥 #thats my propaganda

#OH THERES PROPAGANDA #LETS NOT FORGET ITS FIRST EVER APPEARENCE THREATENING TO GIVE A GUY THE SYMPTOMS OF RABIESSSS

Kayne (Malevolent):

He’s a god who acts like the main characters are his personal soap opera. His first appearance was playing the piano covered in blood after he had massacred an entire town. He just kinda shows up sometimes to cause chaos and is often munching on chips while he watches shit go down. Also he never wears shoes, for some reason

I desperately need Kayne to win, this man is literally the only version of himself available and his voice makes him stand out every time when he pops up. He exploded a guy's head and tore out a guy's eyeballs, what more is there to love?

(I'm an absolute sucker for this man)

Additional propaganda below the cut:

SPEAKER (SAYER):

Sure, it intentionally caused a global catastrophe, but the spine it hides behind its customer service façade? Hot as fuck.

#I would commit terrible crimes for them #They have commited terrible crimes for themselves

#wait for the click! #cmon that is just sexy

#i am torn #but i gotta go with speaker #if you havent listened imagine glados but everything has a reason #like “it's a space wrench because i've found humans 32% more likely to take care of tools with the word 'space' ammended to their name” #speajer is the best #wait fuck i misread thought ut said sayer not speaker #but i dont regret it speaker is also sexy af Mod Note: We can have some SAYER propaganda. As a treat.

#this thing !! #this thing stares down the face of death and gives it a winning smile! #this thing is tailor made for it!! #pleaseee.

Kayne (Malevolent):

Literaly just a tumbr sexy man

black suit, no shoes, covered in blood, plays piano, quirky laugh

An eldritch god soaked in blood. He's Arthur Lester's number one cheer leader.

covered in blood, plays piano, silly laugh, very Will Wood coded

He's insane. He's so dynamic. Will Wood's The Normal Album in humanized eldritch god form. Always covered in blood. Need I say more?

#KAYNE SWEEEEEP LET'S GOOOO #my babygirl he deserves to win this entire thing #i'm not biased i swear

#Kayne my love #i want to end you but i love hearing from you

#Kayne is such A Guy. like he’s just so Character #he does Things and says Lines and it’s great

[merakiui]

hi, i was checking your twst yandere tag and

idia thoughts? :3

I love Idia. The STYX bgm is a banger. Ignihyde's entire aesthetic is amazing. Book 6 is so scrumptious. OTL I could go on and on.

Whenever I think about yan Idia, I automatically default to STYX Idia thoughts only because I crave an Idia who is a little crazy beneath the awkwardly sweet, endearingly shy otaku who stalks you through the cameras and is too nervous to interact irl. Those parts are wonderful of course, but I just know the guy who rebuilt his dead brother (obviously it's not as simple as that and there's so much more grief and trauma intertwined with those actions),,, but the fact still stands that he built the first technomantic humanoid Twisted Wonderland has ever seen....... HE'S CRAZY SMART!!!! And you can't tell me he wouldn't perform other potentially morally and ethically dubious things in an effort to satisfy grotesque curiosity or some other delusion.... ethics at STYX only go so far until Idia-sama is in charge and as Acting Director everyone else must listen to him. I know he hates his job and doesn't want to inherit it, but ooooooo he's so fine in the STYX uniform.

And also,,, with how his parents are I think they're probably going to ignore the very obvious obsession in the room because as long as Idy is happy it doesn't really matter (and you'll be taken care of and cherished so wonderfully). >w< Mama Shroud saw his files when she logged into his computer in book seven and ever since then she just wants her boy to be happy and in love. Maybe it's even a surprise Idia found someone...... Idia and his father are so similar, so maybe it's a case of both of them being shocked the other found a lover. T_T but now he has a 3D beloved and Mama Shroud couldn't be any happier. I have so many thoughts on the dynamics........

AND HIS PARALLELS WITH ROLLO?!?!?!? Insane....... the way they both grieved entirely differently but could understand all of the feelings that come with mourning. And how they chose to act on that. The anger and the unfairness. Anger at the world, at themselves, at those around them. The self-blame and self-hatred. The burdens of mourning all alone and feeling like no one else can help or did help and that no one can truly understand or sympathize.......... I'm just rambling about everything Idia now... the thoughts are everywhere!!!!!

I just think there's so much potential with Idia who is as smart as he is. He is genuinely so efficient and if he wanted to build something that would make it easier to stalk you or to keep you with him or some other wild yan concept he absolutely would and it would be finished within the day. He's so cool........ orz the power he has...

[sammy-deserves-better]

Binge read through Amicus Curiae (credits to the ever talented @courtney-deserved-better for writing it) and hollllllllly shit it’s one of the best things I’ve read, like it’s helped change my perspective on a lot of these characters and it’s just so??? Fucking???? Good???

Platonic Alecourtney, the loves of my lives, I love that they understand what it’s like to be burned (in some cases quite literally) and beat down and humiliated, that they find this comfort in one another because of it but there’s still gonna be times they don’t always click, they don’t always understand!!! They love each other, they argue, they tease, they help each other, they’re just so so so so so good and the way they work together is amazing, they still have all their shit from Total Drama, they were still once villains, they’re strong and intimidating and just a little bit stupid when it comes to caring about themselves because they think they’re fine (they’re not). JUST AGAHHHHHHHHHHHHH

And the development between Kitty and Alejandro’s friendship, just the general understanding of being the younger sibling that’s underestimated, or pushed aside, granted with very different outcomes for the both of them.

Noah and Owen’s friendship as well, sure they were buddies in RR but it’s just given the time to really show and flourish because of the ever changing POVs between characters (which I really appreciate, it’s the best way to handle a RR/TD rewrite because you’re not just focusing on one person’s perspective and you only see developments that are focused around them).

Even just subtle things like how Geoff shows care for Courtney after he’s been personally stung by Alejandro, or the way that Kitty’s social skills helps benefit the Sisters in the long run because of her way to connect to people so easily!!

The fact that yes, Total Drama was an absolutely horrific and traumatic show that fucked up people far more than they like to admit and it’s just properly displayed here with Courtney’s issues with just about everything, the physical problems it’s caused Alejandro, and this sort of numbness that’s surrounded the TD contestants so that when Don, an actually sane host, does or says anything that isn’t completely fucked up, they all just have to stand and stare for a minute because (for some of them) their lives have been a constant tornado of insanity, pain and misery all under the control of Chris.

THE SISTERS DYNAMIC AS WELL OH MY GOOOOOOD, just the fact we really get to flesh out the reasoning behind Emma’s behaviour, and that Kitty is actually allowed to be upset and emotional at the way her own sister acts and treats her??? Just how complicated Emma is in general, being the oldest that has to practically mother her little sister because she didn’t have anyone else that could do it!!! The way that Kitty helps break down Emma’s walls, helps Emma find this vulnerability she’s been hiding, the care, the slow understanding and just becoming a better older sister??? Yes??? Please??? Oh my god these two

Noah and Emma’s friendship??? Like yes we actually get to see these two snarky people bounce off of each other so easily without having to worry about TD’s awful romance formula that usually scrapes both people in the relationship down to just being in a relationship, THEY HAVE BANTER!!!!

Alenoah…Alenoah my beloved, I’ll admit that I’ve never been that fussed with the ship before but god…you just get to absolutely adore the way they bounce off of each other, the teasing, the fact that Alejandro admired Noah and was genuinely hurt and wanted to be his friend in World Tour. The fact that Noah’s getting to see how Alejandro has changed and how he’s not a slippery eel, the way that Alejandro gets to see the determination that Noah has and that he’s not just lazy but an actual impressive contestant to go against. THE NICKNAMES!!! THESE GAYS ARE TRYING TO KILL ME!! Love this ship now

I also enjoy the fact that the contestants are actually talking with other contestants rather than be focused solely on their own team, which was a big issue with RR for me!!

This fic is genuinely just such a good read, like I couldn’t just read one chapter and finish there I just had to keep going, it’s so addictive and you’re just waiting to see what happens next!!

ALSO??? MASSIVE COURTEMMA FAN NOW!!!

Like, oh I’m actually in love with this ship now, of course the two emotionally repressed lawyers are rivals that fall in love, of course they start out wanting to go against each other in the court of law only to truly fall in love and want to work together, to start their own firm, to be by each others side!!! TO BE SCARED OF THIS LOVE BECAUSE ALL THEYVE EVER KNOWN IS HATE, HUMILIATION AND DEVASTATION!!!

They’re Ace Attorney nerds, they shouldn’t be trusted around vehicles, they could debate for 3 hours straight with no breaks, they’re so gay for each other but they think it’s just a rivalry thing, just EVERYTHING ABOUT THEM FROM THE MOMENT THEY REALISE THE OTHER IS IN THE RACE TO THE MOMENT THEY FINALLY GET TO KISS WHEN THE CAMERAS ARE OFF AND ITS ALL OVER!!

Actually like a top 5 ship for me now, I need more, I need these lawyer lesbians back

At multiple points throughout this fic I just kept hitting this pose cause oh my GODDDDD

TLDR: Amicus Curiae is such an amazing fic, you’ve got to read it, the individual characters are so wonderfully written and the development of the friendships and relationships between characters is built so well. Please, if you ever have the opportunity you’ve got to read it!!