#but agh. still a bit gutted

[royalarchivist]

🥲

[crypticdesire]

behind the scenes

MINORS DNI

top amab reader x bottom transmasc eric shoenheit/venue (around 900 words)

cw: hate sex, objectification, mentioned 15 year age gap, overstimulation, mild dumbification, terms clit, cunt, and pussy used for eric, probably occ eric

“Wait…please” your costar, Eric Venue, grasps your wrist, stopping you from rubbing his clit as you slowly push your cock into him.

“Too much” he adds breathlessly.

“Too much?” your words are not a genuine question but a way of mocking him.

“You can’t even take the tip of my cock? I’m disappointed, Eric.” You tut. “I thought I was fucking a whore who couldn’t keep his pants on long enough to film one movie, but maybe you just started those rumors yourself?” You move to grasp his wrist instead, pinning both of his hands against the mirror above the dressing room counter that he sits on. This new position brings your face close enough to his face that you can feel the rapid, shallow breaths he exhales.

He whimpers as you push your hips forward, his insides squeezing tighter around you as your cock goes deeper into his cunt.

“It certainly feels like I’m fucking a virgin’s cunt” A low moan leaves your lips as you continue your small thrusts at a consistent pace. Your slow movements have nothing to do with being gentle, however, you just want to hear him beg more before you rearrange his guts from fucking him so hard, which will leave him only capable of incoherent babbling.

“Nothing to say for yourself?” You let go of his wrist to flick his clit, and you couldn’t be more satisfied with his reaction as he lets out a strangled moan, arches his back, and squirms with his clit no doubt seeking friction. He attempts to scowl in response to your sadistic laugh.

“You’re going to make me cum too soon” he hisses, closing his eyes as he attempts to slow his breathing.

“Is that supposed to matter to me? I don’t care how many times you cum. You could be shooting blanks for all I care. I’ll use your hole until I'm satisfied” You continue to make your point by speeding up the tempo of your thrusts, delighting in the way his squirming becomes more desperate and the fact that you can hear the squelching sounds of the lube as you drag your cock in and out of him.

“A bit self-absorbed are we?” He manages to let out a thin exhale of laughter, the corner of his mouth quirking up in a smirk. Your insides burn with desire as he gives you exactly what you want. It’s so much more enjoyable to hear him beg after he attempts to insult you.

“You would think that. I think you’ve just gotten too used to the entitlement you get from being such a big star, old man” bitterness seeps into your voice, thrusts becoming more forceful. Eric lets out a series of moans before he’s able to formulate a response.

“I’m only 15 years older than you,” he says through gritted teeth, no doubt close to climaxing.

“All the more reason you should be grateful I’ve chosen you as a fuck toy” Before he can say anything else you turn your attention back to his already sensitive clit, rubbing circles on it as you focus on hitting the spot that will push him over the edge. He managed to stay at a reasonable volume until now, unable to control his loud moan.

“Fuck” he moans just as loudly, arching his back even more as his body shakes from his orgasm. You hiss feeling him tighten around you, grinding your hips into his as you push your cock even deeper into him and allow your cum to spill out into the condom you’re wearing.

“Go ahead, tell me how happy you are that I used you as a fuck toy.” Your request earns a weak glare in return.

“Say it, Venue” Despite the fact you’re still sensitive yourself, you start to rock your hips into him again, thumb just feathering over his clit, which twitches and causes his hips to jerk.

“Fuc- agh” the sudden overstimulation makes it impossible for him to resist you. Being fucked dumb is the only way he would ever say this, so you savor each word as it leaves his drooling mouth.

“I…” he spares you one look before screwing his eyes shut again. “I am happy to be used as your fuck toy” He whines as you pull out of him, satisfied.

“That wasn’t too hard was it” You can’t help but give him two firm slaps on his pussy to punctuate your statement. He doesn’t even have the energy to give you much of a reaction, the back of his head falling back to rest on the mirror, thighs still slightly trembling. As you dispose of the condom and begin to clean yourself up, there’s a loud knock on the dressing room door.

“Mr.Venue!” A production staff’s voice yells through the door. “Hair and makeup will be here in 15 minutes to get you prepped!”

He doesn’t even make an effort to respond, and you chuckle at his disheveled appearance.

“Better send them in early!” You call back. “Mr.Venue looks very exhausted, so he could use the extra attention!” When Eric side-eyes you, you give him a teasing wink. He manages to drape himself in a robe by the time you get dressed, and you allow him to see the deliberate way you let your eyes travel down his body.

“I’m sure you already know this Mr.Venue, but it is such an honor sharing a set with you”

[satansindexfinger]

The older brothers with an s/o who has tattoos

Warnings: none

Note: My first ever imagine/scenario haha. I hope it doesn't disappoint;w;

Lucifer

If you didn't know any better, you'd think the Avatar of Pride hadn't noticed your ink at all. He never made any mention of it verbally or let his eyes longer on it too long.

But it didn't escape you how he would trace his fingers over the body art in your more intimate moments, eyes slightly slanted in appreciation. He almost looked like he wanted to comment on them but settled for quietly admiring them.

Eventually he would beg the question, in the middle of a snuggle session, "Say, what does this one represent? It must have some significance if you're willing to have it permanently etched in your skin."

Lucifer is adorning a soft smile as you give your thoughts behind that particular tattoo, proceeding to trace and ask about the others, listening just as attentively.

"I adore the way they decorate your body. I've heard the process is painful; even more reason to appreciate how far you've gone to preserve what's important to you."

If you're considering getting another tattoo, he would be researching the healing process and reminding you to put on your ointment every day.

If you really want to see him lose his composure, get one that symbolizes him or your relationship. You're guaranteed tender kisses on that area (by a red faced Lucifer) when you two are alone. He will make sure you wear clothing that shows it off, unless it's in a private area.

Mammon

He would find them badass as fuck. Doesn't matter what kind of tattoos they are - full sleeve, minimalist, basic designs, intricate art, a triangle on your finger - the great Mammon gives you plus ten badass points.

Would absolutely brag about you behind your back to his brothers and friends. "Ya think yer tough?! Well my S/O is tatted! Bet ya don't have the guts to do that!" It's honestly silly, but Mammon really does love them.

Would never admit it but has looked online for couple matching tattoo ideas. He finds the idea of you both having ink that proves your strong bond heart-stopping.

"So when are ya gonna get one in my honour? I was yer first so I think The Great Mammon deserves it!"

If you actually go with it get prepared for a very flustered and overexcited demon to deal with. He will insist on being with you at your next appointment and holding your hand through it. It's so you don't get scared, is what he says.

Only for him to be the one passing out in the middle of it, seeing the needle going through your skin. It's a bit too much for your boy to handle.

Somehow his hand is still gripping yours throughout it.

Leviathan

Levi found you intimidating to approach at first. He'd be lying if he said he still didn't to some degree even after getting to know you. Levi knows you're a kind soul when it comes to him, but any time he catches a glance at your ink always makes him think about how secretly tough you must be. It makes him go weak in the knees (in a good way).

Can you blame him? The only exposure this boy has had to tattoos has been through anime and other media; tough characters with a rough past are usually the ones with ink, aren't they?! ... Or ones in gangs! You don't have any involvement in those, right?!

Despite the initial worries, Levi actually finds your body art extremely attractive. So much so he stutters and gets red in the face when he tries to compliment you.

"Y-you know, that one is my favourite, uh.. it's r-really nice and pretty! Ugh, no wait, that's not it! I-I mean, it is pretty!! I just meant- Agh, nevermind! I'm sorry!"

Will compare you to fictional characters that also have tattoos and how you are similar in positive qualities. Bonus points if you have any tattoos related to a certain game or show - that will get him rambling for ages.

If you have or are considering getting a fish and/or snake tattoo, Levi would be over the moon.

Lord help him when you roll up your sleeves or otherwise make a tattoo visable by removing your clothes. He would not be able to handle it.

Satan

Satan has done his homework on (most) common tattoos and their meanings upon meeting you. He finds the symbolism and idea of body art in general to be very interesting. Call him sentimental but the avatar of wrath is suddenly very fond of the idea permanently decorating his skin to show off anything personal to him. (A cat. He wants a tattoo of a cat.)

"I've heard tattoos show what humans hold dear to them; or what they want to keep in their memory. Or something they strongly believe in. So, would you mind explaining the history behind yours?"

You talking about your tats is a whole other level of intimacy for Satan. He feels the art shows sides of you he would otherwise find trouble reaching. He is taking mental notes the entire time, hoping to do further research later.

Will surprise you by telling you random facts about the history of the art of tattooing, ones you probably have never heard of. It warms your heart seeing just how much Satan is invested in learning more about you through this.

Would not mind visiting a tattoo parlour just for the fun of it, regardless if you're getting a new tat or not. If you do have an appointment Satan will stay with you the entire time. It's kind of awkward how intently he's staring at the tattoo gun the entire time.

The rebellious teenager in him wanted to get a "Fuck Lucifer" tattoo on him somewhere, but with your help he decides against it. He will settle with his pact mark. As long as you get that too.

[hopefuloverfury]

Omg hi! May I request something with harvey and gn!reader in which they are in a game of truth or dare with the other balchelors/rettes and one of them dares the farmer to kiss the doctor (farmer and harv are not necessarily in a relationship yet but they are close friends...or more ?)

Drink water! XD

Hello!! This prompt was a lot of fun to do, and Harvey is so cute! Thank you for the request anon, I really appreciate it! I don't have a beta reader unfortunately, so this might have typos or awkward phrasing (english isn't my first language agh) but I hope you enjoy anyway!! This one took me a bit longer, sorry about that! Also I drank water just for you, anon <3

2329 words, foul language, alcohol consumption, general dumbassery. GN!Farmer, implied Sam/Penny, a little suggestive at certain points but this is overall pretty tame, it might be a little ooc near the end but i tried my best whoops, manipulative Haley(but it's for everyone's benefit, don't worry), uhhhh did I miss anything? OH YEAH someone eats a spoonful of mayo sorry about that LMFAO

Harvey doesn’t like drinking anything that isn’t wine.

Wine lets him unwind—it loosens up his tense, stressed muscles, and after one glass, he’s usually set for the night. He doesn’t go crazy. He doesn’t drink liquor.

The Farmer, however, apparently does.

They’re squeezed in on the loveseat between Elliott and Shane, with one arm thrown over the back of the cushions, and they’re intermittently stealing Shane’s beer to down a few gulps at a time. As their doctor, he’s concerned, but as their boy—as their friend—his nerve endings are singed, and an uneasy feeling is building in his gut.

If he was an idiot, he’d blame the feeling on the nasty liquor Alex and Haley brought to the farmhouse, deep brown and thick like molasses on the way down. Unfortunately, he’s more self-aware than that.

Which means he knows that the sudden stab through his chest when the Farmer leans in a little too close to Elliott—harsh and thrashing, like a green sludge cloying up his throat and gluing his tongue to the back of his teeth—is just jealousy.

Maru and Abigail cheer loudly on his left, piled onto the couch with Sebastian and Sam, and part of him wishes he’d stayed home. He could’ve faked sick, maybe, and blamed it on the cold slowly blowing in from the ocean during this time of year. He’s never really liked the winter season, anyway.

But then he’d have missed this, and even though watching the Farmer eat up the attention from Shane and Elliott is keying him up more than any surgery he’s ever had to perform, he never misses Thirsty Thursday.

‘Thirsty Thursday’ is what the Farmer calls it. They coined the term with their old group of friends back in the city, or so he’s been told. Rules are simple: once a month, everyone brings a bottle of alcohol to one person’s house, and they spend the whole night getting plastered while playing drinking games. The game is different every time.

Today's game of choice is truth or dare—or strip.

Everyone is in varying states of undress, and he’s already lost his vest, his tie, and both of his shoes. There’s a pile of clothes building in the middle of the living room, and eleven pairs of shoes scattered between half-empty bottles of alcohol.

Thankfully it doesn’t look like he’s going to be losing anything else, because the group has abandoned their attacks on each other in favor of ganging up on the Farmer, who’s still fully clothed. Their boots are still perfectly laced, strings untouched and swinging to-and-fro. He watches them like pendulums, and takes another sip from his cup.

Alex flops back on the floor and throws his arms up in defeat.

“I give up, this is impossible,” he shouts, and Haley pokes him in the side with her foot.

“Quit being dramatic, you big baby,” she scolds him, raising an eyebrow with all the judgement of an angel at the gates of the afterlife. She's always scared him, a little. Too keen, knows too much, sees too much. Reads him like he's a children's book.

“Oh come on, there’s gotta be something they won’t do.” Sam yells across the room, his laugh as boisterous as ever. Harvey winces. His ears always get more sensitive when he’s drunk.

The Farmer tosses their head back and laughs, the sound ringing sharply in his ears. Harvey licks his lips, and rubs off any residual alcohol clinging to his mustache with the back of his hand. The hair scratches his skin, and it grounds him, if only a little bit. He likes their laugh.

“Oh, I think I’ve got one,” Penny says suddenly, sitting up and pointing at the Farmer with an eager look on her face. Harvey knows for a fact that she’s stone-cold-sober, and he honestly can’t believe she’d even show up for Thirsty Thursday, given how she feels about alcohol, but maybe the fact that she’s been glued to Sam’s arm all night has something to do with it. He won’t ask. “Farmer, truth or dare?” 

“Bring it on, Pen. Dare,” the Farmer says.

“I dare you to eat a spoonful of mayonnaise.” Harvey’s face twists in disgust immediately, and the volume goes up to a hundred. Everyone’s laughing because they’re sure they wouldn’t. Not even the Farmer would do something so disgusting.

Harvey knows otherwise.

He watches with unsurprised horror as they lean forward, elbows on their knees, and give Penny a wild grin with their tongue bitten between their teeth. He wants to do that.

“That’s it?” Their voice is like a gunshot in the living room, silencing the group for half a moment before, like vultures to a corpse, Sam is jumping up and rushing into the kitchen with Alex and Leah hot on his heels. 

Within thirty seconds there’s a jar of mayonnaise sitting heavy between the Farmer’s thighs, and Emily is handing them a spoon. Harvey’s pretty sure at least seven of them are yanking their phones out of their pocket to video the whole thing, and while he gets it, he’s seen the Farmer do much worse.

He’s no longer surprised by anything they do. As their doctor, he’s well aware of the shenanigans they get up to during their free time, and if he’s being realistic, eating a spoonful of mayo is probably the tamest thing they’ve done in his presence.

It’s still fucking gross though. Harvey snorts to himself, watching the look on their face when they twist open the jar and dig their spoon into the devil’s condiment. Even when they talk a big game, he can read them easily. Harvey chuckles a little bit at the slightly green tinge on their cheeks as they bring it up to their mouth, and close their lips over the spoon.

They barely manage to get it down, to the resounding cheers of glee and disgust around them.

“Holy shit, you actually did it!” Sam cackles, shoving his camera in the farmer’s face. They flip him off and he devolves into a fit of giggles.

Sebastian gags behind him, shaking his bangs out of his eyes and flopping back down on the couch behind Harvey. “That was the grossest thing I’ve ever seen in my life.”

“I don’t know whether to be impressed or disgusted,” Shane muses, holding his beer far out of reach from the Farmer’s grabby hands. “Nuh-uh, don’t even think about it, Farmer. You did this to yourself, and I don’t want your mayo mouth on my drink, go get your own.” 

The Farmer whines petulantly, and Harvey gets up on his knees to pass the bottle of cranberry juice Penny brought for the punch mix. There’s just enough leftover to wash down the taste, and the Farmer plucks the near-empty jug out of his hands gratefully.

“Oh, my savior, thank you.” They guzzle the rest of the jug without preamble, and in their haste, a single drop trickles from the corner of their lips and down their chin. Harvey watches it like a hawk, eventually losing sight of it under the collar of their shirt. He wonders how it’d taste to lick it off, and immediately turns his eyes to the floor.

His ears burn.

“That was disgusting, don’t make me do that ever again,” The Farmer says, and Emily throws a pillow at them. It bounces off of their head harmlessly, and Shane catches it as it falls to the floor.

“We didn’t make you do anything,” Shane reminds them dryly, leaning back into the cushions with a smirk. “You could’ve just taken off your boots or something.”

“But they have to protect their honor!” Leah laughs, sea-blue eyes bright and twinkling as she throws her arm over Elliott and the Farmer’s shoulder from behind the loveseat.

“Oh goodness, I can still smell it on your breath.” Elliott jokes, dramatically yanking himself out of Leah’s grip and leaning far over the arm of the loveseat.

“How do you think I feel?” The Farmer snaps at him without a trace of heat in their voice, and Elliott snorts into his palm.

“Well, if that didn’t work, I’m out of ideas.” Penny shrugs, sitting back against Sam’s chest. 

“Yeah, I’ve got nothing,” Sam agrees. “Anyone else?”

Silence follows, and Harvey almost gets ready to collect his clothes from the pile, when Haley raises her hand.

“I’ve got one more.”

“Can’t possibly be worse than making me eat mayo, so go ahead.” The Farmer shudders, setting the empty juice jug on the coffee table with a hollow thunk. Harvey settles back down, his heart making a distantly similar sound.

Haley cocks her head to the side, her hair swaying in front of her calculating blue eyes. “I dare you to kiss Harvey.” 

Harvey doesn’t like a lot of things. 

He doesn’t like liquor. He doesn’t like coral, or salmonberries, or the cold. He doesn’t like when the Farmer goes into the mines and comes back with a new gash on their skin, or a fractured bone in their limbs. He doesn’t like Thirsty Thursday.

He keeps his eyes glued to the Farmer, and desperately ignores every other pair of eyes currently digging into his skin. They’re probably all talking, but his ears have lost all functionality. The world sounds muffled and faraway, like his head is underwater.

“I, uh…” The Farmer stutters, and Harvey’s pulled back to shore. He hangs onto every syllable, his gut clenching, waiting for the sucker-punch of rejection. When it comes, he’s going to have to pretend to be normal about it, but everyone will stare at him with that glitter of pity in the backs of their eyes that he hates so much— “I’d have to brush my teeth. Harvey hates the taste of mayonnaise.”

Harvey’s lower jaw unhinges itself from his skull and falls into his solo cup with a splash.

He shakes his head, pushing his glasses higher on his nose. “I’m sorry, come again?”

The Farmer shrugs, but they won’t meet his eyes. “I mean, if you’re cool with it, I just have to brush my teeth. It was my dare, why should you have to suffer for it?”

They glance at him, at his lips, and Harvey’s launched to cloud nine.

“I—okay. Go brush your teeth then.”

The Farmer nods stiffly, their cheeks and ears flushing as they stand up. “Cool. Be right back.”

He looks up, suddenly afraid, and glances across the coffee table at Haley. She’s grinning, her teeth glinting like a lioness who just caught a gazelle in her jaws. Harvey rubs the back of his neck, his skin burning.

There’s a few hollers from the guys behind him, and he’s pretty sure Alex and Leah have both clapped him on the back. He didn’t even do anything.

“Okay!” The Farmer calls, their voice echoing down the hall and entering the room a few seconds before them. Harvey stays rooted to the floor, his wrists aching from leaning back on them for so long. His palms are probably indented with the texture of the rug beneath him. His eyes don’t stray from the Farmer as they walk around the couches and every forgotten bottle littering their living room floor. They crouch down in front of him, settling down on their knees, and Harvey’s brain finally catches up with him.

This is actually happening.

The Farmer is going to kiss him. He’s going to pass out.

“So, um. How do you want me to…?” They ask, and he thinks about it for a moment before realizing they’re looking at Haley. 

“You can’t figure that out for yourselves?” Haley asks, her voice sharp and cutting.

The Farmer’s hands flap around chaotically as they sputter, searching for an appropriate defense. “This is your dare! How am I supposed to know, I can’t read your mind!”

“Farmer.” Harvey sets his solo cup on the coffee table. “You didn’t brush your teeth just to argue with Haley, did you?”

It’s the fucking liquor. It always makes him lose his filter. It gives him confidence, but it chases his inhibitions away and makes him bolder. He’s impatient, and he’s been dancing around this ‘will-we-won’t-we’ thing he’s got going with the Farmer for months, and he’s sick of it. 

Another round of hollers and gleeful exclamations bounce off the walls, but he’s not paying attention anymore.

“No, I didn’t.” They say quietly, and they’re not paying attention anymore, either. “So how do you want me to do this?”

Harvey swallows hard, his eyes flicking down to their lips. “How do you think I want you to do it?”

“Messy,” they whisper, cupping his jaw in their hands, and he might as well be delirious. “But that’s not really appropriate when we have an audience, so you’ll have to settle for a little less.”

“Guess you’ll just have to do it again when there’s no audience,” Harvey hisses, and then their lips are on his. There’s condensation from the beer mixing with the sweat on his palms, but he brings his hands up to grip their waist anyway. They shiver against him, breathing slowly through their nose, and Harvey pulls them closer.

They taste like toothpaste, and feel like silk in his hands. He squeezes once, trying not to groan into their mouth, lest he put on a show for the rest of the group, but they rearrange themselves against his lips, and suddenly his glasses are digging into the bridge of his nose.

He yanks himself away, barely taking a breath as he tears his glasses off his face and tosses them onto the coffee table with a clatter. He pays it no mind. Someone whistles. Probably Sam. He drags the Farmer back in and slots their lips together, clicking together like puzzle pieces as they sling their arms over his shoulders. 

He slips his thumb under their shirt, just barely, and their voice rumbles deep in their chest.

He loves Thirsty Thursday.

[autumnrose11]

For ship ask: Mary/Matthew and Sybil/Tom

First of all, I would like to say a great big SORRY for answering this so late! I’ve finally got round to answering this.

So.......Mary/Matthew.

What made me ship it: Strangely, this question is difficult to answer because I don’t know where to begin. I suppose.... what made me really ship them in the first place was that they are so healthy, and both during their convoluted courtship and their married life, it’s so obvious that they respect each other. They bring out the best in each other. They complement each other and accept one another just the way they are, flaws and all. They enjoy each other’s company. They share the same sense of humour. Their love is unconditional, their chemistry explosive and unlike anything I’d ever seen before. Their adoration for one another is so beautifully GENUINE and believable. More than anything, though, I think I ship them because they made me believe for the first time in true love.

So all of those factors morphed together and made me fall hopelessly in love with them, both individually and as a couple :)

Favourite things about the ship: All of the things mentioned above, plus some other stuff. Such as the fact that when they do fight and argue, the fights are always, always healthy. They get into a furious argument and still get into bed with each other. They hold their love above everything. There’s also the fact that they can be emotionally vulnerable with each other. They are the only people who can access the other’s heart and they know the deepest core of each other. There’s such a deep level of intimacy they share which is so beautiful to watch. I love the way they work as a team, they are in a partnership together and they are really good friends who are so comfortable around each other. All of this in addition to being physically attracted and having spades of sexual chemistry. They can be silly and goofy around one another which is adorable! (MATTHEW’S BED FLOP. AGH. And Mary’s silly miming during charades in the S2CS. She looked so cute!)

Unpopular opinion I have about the ship: An unpopular opinion.... Hmmm. I don’t know if this counts, but.... I just think Lavinia should not have been killed off. She should have broken it off with Matthew, leave and marry a man whose heart was hers and hers alone. That’s the only sort-of unpopular opinion I have about this ship. Other than that, no.... I love everything about them, even the angst and heartbreak and pining and when they are both being idiots!

Now for Sybil and Tom.

What made me ship it: I think they’re interesting together, but no, I don’t think they’re a truly good couple.

Favourite things about the ship: I like that they overcome all odds to be together... the daughter of an earl marrying a chauffeur was, needless to say, a massive step down in society and I admire Sybil for having the guts to do it. I also like that (in the first season) they have a shared interest in politics and women’s rights and the way Tom encourages her :) Also, BABY SYBBIE. That moment between them after the baby was born was very sweet.

Unpopular opinions I have about the ship: Now for the unpopular opinions. I have a few. (To all the S/T shippers.... I’m really sorry, I don’t mean any offence :))

During S1, I liked them and I thought their slowly burgeoning love was cute and sweet. During S2, though... I didn’t care for them much. Much of the season was spent by Tom being a bit pushy, badgering Sybil and trying to convince her to run away with him, and on some occasions even putting her down, showing his resentment towards her family and acting like he knew better than her, which sort of rubbed me the wrong way. The adoration and tenderness was missing in S2.

I also got the feeling that Sybil didn’t fall in love with Tom for the person he was. While agreeing to marry him, she says, “I’m ready to travel..... and you’re my ticket.” It sounds like the only reason she married him was because she wanted a way out of her life, not because she genuinely cared for him as a person.

Plus, there’s the fact that compared to the other main developing couples on the show in the first three seasons (Matthew/Mary and Bates/Anna) Sybil and Tom are the couple that gets the least amount of screen time. They spend S1 being friends, with Tom slowly developing a crush on Sybil. They receive permission to marry near the end of S2. We don’t get to see their wedding. They briefly return in 3x01 for Mary’s wedding. They’re absent in 3x02 and play a minimal part in 3x03. 3x04 is completely overshadowed by Tom’s exile from Ireland. That’s the last episode they’re together before Sybil dies in 3x05. So we don’t get to see much of their married life, which is another reason why I couldn’t fully get behind them and ship them wholeheartedly.

Apologies once again for taking so long to answer this! :D

[oneofthosebells]

All right, starting my rewatch and jotting down some thoughts, one episode a day until Sunday...

Wilhelm already looks so worried about his mother in the opening seconds of the show, didn't pick up on that first time round. Probably already already blaming himself as well.

Simon in the palace. 😭 You can really see the magnitude of it all hit him.

I was SO surprised on first watch that the video/drugs issues were resolved so quickly after two seasons of build up! But I guess it makes sense that if it's not going to be a big part of the season, might as well wrap it up and move onto the next part rather than dragging it out for no reason.

(I was always like 90% sure it would end in a settlement though, because there's no time for a trial in the timeframe and you don't want to leave it as a loose end hanging over the characters' heads.)

Linda comparing the royals to the Mafia. 💀 There's a reason the British royal family is nicknamed The Firm... (For anyone not aware, it's a term for gangsters/organised crime in parts of the UK.)

Simon failing to warn his mother that the drugs thing might come up is so teenager of him, bless him. He's still such a kid at heart.

Kristina once again referring to the video as a 'scandal' and not a crime committed against her son, sigh. And then immediately pulling out the Erik guilt trip card. Kristina is the result of her upbringing just as Wille is - no royals are normal! - but it's gutting to watch.

Felice's grief for the end of her friendship with Sara kills me. 😭 I'm so glad they showed how heartbroken she was over it.

Maddie is the best. Stella and Fredrika are the WORST. (Apologies to their fans if they have any, but in a show full of rich, interesting, complicated characters, I view Stella/Fredrika and Henry/Walter as basically slightly annoying wallpaper.)

Linda finally realising she has no clue what her kids are really up to...

August pours himself only a glass of water when everyone else is eating a full breakfast. The show has done his ED really well and subtly over the three seasons I think - it's clearly there but not been laid on too thick. Compare Maddie's worried looks at Felice not eating however over Nils and Vincent not noticing or caring that August never eats.

Photographers on the way to school - did someone tip them off that the prince was coming back or have they been hanging round the school gates ever since the Jubilee?

Felice (plus Maddie) is behind Simon at the lockers when Wilhelm returns to school which feels deliberate but they don't acknowledge each other at all (until the later scene anyway) - a hint that Wilhelm's going to be very wrapped up in Simon (and kind of self centred) this season?

Followed by Wille completely glossing over Simon saying he's uncomfortable with the staring, ouch. Some painful foreshadowing there.

Felice wanting to know how Sara is. 😭😭😭

Of course Marcus talked to the press. But honestly, I'm a little disappointed at how tame it was. If you're going to be a snake, go all out! Make up lies! Call Simon a cheating whore and a gold-digger! 'Their relationship seems problematic' is just a wee bit pathetic.

Wilhelm's total naivete about what the effects of his speech would be for Simon with the online abuse etc makes me want to strangle him and hug him. He's so sheltered and he's also still such a kid (even if he no longer looks like one, my god Edvin's sudden adulthood is distracting at times!). But agh.

Redrawing the heart. 😭😭 It's so teenager in love, I love it.

Gen Z kids reading the article in an actual newspaper. Printed on actual paper. Hillerska really is its own little world, isn't it?

I quite like the school restrictions plot from a storytelling perspective, it ramps up the tension, but yeah, it's not the most realistic thing the show has ever done. 😂 Like seriously, you're confiscating their phones but leaving them their laptops? What's the point? All you're going to do is annoy your rich students and their entitled, self-important parents without achieving anything.

Enjoyed that episode much more on a rewatch! I think the first time round I was thrown by the August plot wrapping up so quickly and worried my girl Sara was going to get short changed this series. I do feel like the tone of this season is quite different in a way that's hard to describe, but not in a bad way - just took me a little while to get into it first time round.

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

ari.. ur entire wip list has me loosing my mind i dont even know what to think rn or where to start. i am so deeply intrigued it hurts LIKE AGH but i ofc have to ask about ur little red riding hood!reader x wolf/hunter!suguru it sounds so wonderful!

MOSSSS hi hello tysm for asking!!! U PICKED A SUPER FUN ONE perfect timing bc im planning on writing it out today!!! or . Trying to…. anyway mickey also asked abt it here (hivemind moment) but i can give u some extra details + tiny snippets ive written out !! >:33

IM SO GLAD U ASKED ABT THIS ONE bc it makes me think of u sm !! there’s def going to be a lot of teeth imagery….. and it’s also my attempt at writing smth more Twisted and gritty w sugu which i dont do suuuper often? so im excited!!

so far my idea of the story is just…. little red riding hood but w a twist? or more like . little red riding hood meets the hunter before they meet the wolf, and is kinda . coaxed into staying at his cabin … for an indefinite period of time…. and he’s charming and doting and secure but something is just Off abt him. classic sugu <33

im gonna read through the brothers grimm version of the story a bunch and take some inspiration there, also so i can reference some events and lines and stuff!! im thinking of mayybe making it a bit meta in the sense that reader knows what fairy tale they’re in, knows how the story goes… maybe suguru too? it’s just a thought but im sooo excited to finish this one hhhh....

im still super unsure abt how im going to … like …. format the whole thing 😭😭 bUT i have these lil snippets written out !! might end up changing them as i write but im pretty happy w them hehe

“i have to go see grandma,” you try, gazing up at him with a pleading smile. hoping he’ll cave. but he curls an arm around your waist. steady, steady, steady. so much stronger than you. “it’s dangerous,” is all he says, a gentle warning. “you’ll be safer here. your grandmother can wait.” he gives you a sweet smile, to ease your nerves, but something rotten settles in your gut; bile at the base of your throat. sour. you try not to eye his axe, still hanging by the fireplace.

his voice is deep, smooth, with just the slightest hint of a rasp. in the morning, or at night, it’s gravelly; like an axe dragged through rugged grounds, or the bark of a tree yet to be cut. enough to make goosebumps spread along your neck, a pleasant tremble of your spine. it happens, sometimes, when you’re lying in bed together. he flips through the pages of a dusty fable, caresses your hair with a steady hand, and out it comes — a noise that curls around the base of his throat, rumbles through his chest. deep, raspy, gravelly. almost a growl. he clears his throat, and you pretend not to have noticed it. he rewards you with another page or two.

and ah, there it is. that quiver of his jaw. like he’s trying not to snap it, trying not to bare his teeth. they’re sharp. when he kissed you this morning, you felt them nip at your skin. you think he was trying to control himself.

[elkenbulwark]

@fallesto cont.

Given the short distance from where this section of upper city block was in comparison to the Cragdew manor, the chance that Ren had wandered off too far for Birvor to spot him from one of the nearby rooftops was slim. His brother didn't exactly get out much save for his often doomed escape attempts and the occasional incident in which his fellow noble-born elf peers snuggled him out for a night of wine tasting. His nose wrinkled at the thought of having to tote an irate, tipsy elf back to his quarters once he narrowed down where exactly he'd gone off to this time as there was only so much subterfuge he could rely on when it came to convincing the Cragdews that yes, Ren had definitely been in his room all night when it was clear from the next morning's hangover and the subsequent tardiness from morning lessons with his mentor that simply couldn't be true. Thus, finding Ren before he'd gotten up to anything other than becoming hopelessly lost in the Gate really determined the state of Birvor's hide the next morn, much to his chargrin.

Not planning to stay for much longer on the darkened balcony lest the well to do neighborhood called upon the aid of the Steelwatchers to hunt down the half-orc prowler so clearly scoping out the area (for reasons they'd yet to determine but were comfortable assuming), he'd already honed in on the 'bang' of a trash can being knocked into just around the corner of the conjoining alleyway when the suspecting snap of his gaze was suddenly forced down with a firm grasp not much unlike that of the manor's dedicated tutor tasked with making sure a certain half-orc kept his nose buried in a history book even if he had to shove the two together on occasion.

With a strangled growl cut short from the clench of his jaw, Birvor squinted down into the darkness of the street while his ears pricked back at the admonishment that came of being caught uninvited on someone's balcony in the middle of the night. "Oi!? C'mon now, I was just bloody 'bout to leave-" He protested, and though his gut caught the railing he was now bent over, his hand moved to grip one of the rails over the edge just in case he took a tumble. Still unsure of who'd found him skulking, but guessing it was likely someone of influence around this part of the city, he ground his teeth and bit back a slew of curses knowing that influence often carried back to itself and there would be hells to pay should such a debacle make it's way back to the Cragdews. Instead, he made a motion to rear his head back and crane to the side against the hold to the and see who the hell was out here scruffing him. He got about as far as his branded brow before resorting to swiveling his eyes the rest of the way.

"Look, I'm not rootin' round for trouble, 'ere. Just tryna track down my brother-agh, nails!" He complained at the sharp dig, shifting restlessly as he fussed and fumed in place. "Serius'ly, you'll tear those out tryna get me over like this. Bet'r to just let me roll off an see if bounce." He hoped he did anyway. But he had a fail safe of relentless endurance if not.

[missiodei]

Echoes of the Past

Cw: Torture, eye trauma, bugs, centipedes

[Google Doc]

"Why do you resist salvation?"

The familiarity of the voice is subconsciously enough to bring you back to reality.

Salvation?

Thoughts crowd your head as your eyes struggle to perceive your surroundings. Your dazed senses slowly begin to come to you, as if you were being born again. The burning sensation on your wrists draws your attention first as you find them tightly bound to a chair, though you're not awake enough to fight them.

"What..," you groan low, instinctively attempting to move your hand as your blurry vision takes in what it could in the dark room.

"Take your time. You won't learn unless I have your full attention."

What?

"Come on, you're usually quicker than this."

How contradictory. Alright, think. Where were you before this? You recall being in the cathedral. Hardly home, but it is home. It's all you've known for as long as you could remember. There was a gathering, a meeting...mass. Yes.

Tonight was to be special, at least for you. Though you'd long since been promoted to priesthood, this was to be the first time you headed the ritual mass alone. You remember standing before the congregation, and before seven trolls upon their knees. You trained for this. It was a simple ceremony: lead the church in prayers, offer devotion to the goddess, preach the merits of suffering. You looked to the trolls before you, some willing in their presence and others not, letting the thurible pendulate from first to last, left to right and back. A clean sweep would end the misery of the frightened, and grant mercy to the devout. One clean sweep, and the congregation would have their acephalous effigies.

You trained for this. You were trained for this.

...

In your recollection your lips mouth the words that sealed your fate: I refuse.

You couldn't do it. It wasn't mercy, it's cruelty. It was a spectacle.

The familiar unease begins to seep into you. Slowly, your heart rate kicks up, faster, harder. You take a deep breath, though the constriction brings more light to your predicament. You were being watched, observed. He caught you. You don't want to be here.

"No," you protest. Your memory fogs your vision. You blacked out at that ceremony, but you distinctly remember your hand driving the thurible across those trolls' heads, as if your body had been but a mere vehicle you had no control over.

"Hm hm hm, it remembers," the voice taunts. You still haven't looked to your tormentor. Every fiber of your being is telling you not to bother, telling you to fight against the ropes binding you down. Fight against the bugs crawling over your skin that you're certain were not there before. You hear the cracking of bones under the sound of your own heartbeat, the sound that always accompanies the Cardinal.

"Ah- fuck!" you exclaim, the legs of the centipedes seem to dig deep into your flesh with each step they take. No matter how many times you've experienced this, it never gets easier. It's as if you're forced to forget the feeling, forced to experience it new, fresh, every single time. You know what comes next. You know it in how they slither towards your neck and your jaw drops open, despite your efforts to keep it shut.

"Ease, Cariral, oh-! I-," you plead in vain. You're already choking on them, feeling them stab into your throat as they make their way down one, two.. three. You want to vomit but you can't; he won't let you.  By the time you're able to control yourself you're already hyperventilating. Your throat is sore from the assault, your gut wrenches and you can feel one of them beginning to crawl its way back up.

"Agh, please make it stop I'm-," you choke on your words again. You'd hunch over in pain if you could, certain that the centipede in your throat just bit into you.

"Sorry? Right," the man finishes your sentence. He stands from the seat he'd been observing you from, and you feel his fingers press firmly against your face as he directs your focus to him. Directs your focus from the other bugs nearing your ear.

"W-wait... Cardinal Axeron, l-let me fix this," you begin to panic. You don't know what those are doing, where they're going. You don't know why he's so angry with you this time.

"I-I-I can do better I-"

"No. There's nothing for you to fix. Clearly, this is an error on my part," the Cardinal says odiously.

They're in your ears. You try to scream and thrash, but he's holding your head so tight you fear you may snap your neck. Even that would be a mercy in comparison as the sound of their legs and chirping fills your ears, as the pain rings throughout your head and tears run down your face. Your body convulses, and you can't stop the drool running from your mouth.

"I am so sick of you, Cilian," he says, somehow his voice echoing clear despite the pressure in your skull.

"What an embarrassment to me you are, and after I've been so reasonable," the Cardinal roughly discharges your head from his hold, and the sensations of all bugs disappear along with it. He drags his hand over your head to rid himself of the bit of saliva you'd gotten on his glove. Still frantic, your eyes look over every inch of your body that you could see, overwrought with anxiety.

"To think you’d be as much a thorn in my side as that other wretch was. So much wasted potential," he continues, stepping away behind you as you catch your breath. You come to realize it was all a hallucination, though the pain was very real; you still feel as though you've been stabbed internally, in every place those creatures touched. In every place he touched.

"But you see, I realize now  you simply lack the vision,” he says. You hear metal scrape against metal before the footsteps echo towards you.

“I’m going to fix your eyes, child,” he steps into your view.

“What do you mean you’re going to fix my eyes?” you interject, the sharp tone in your voice almost inciting you to feel guilt, even fear for its direction. You find yourself leaning away from the scalpel he draws near your face, and your hands shake as your eyes meet with his. 

“They’re clouded, I’ll have to make you see clearly. As I did with your ancestor.”

“I don’t… I don’t want that I don’t need-” your mouth closed shut and your eyes widened.

“See, this is why it’s important to not interrupt,” he smiles.

“I said. I’m going to fix your eyes, Cilian, and you are going to let me.”

Your chest aches as your heart races again. He’s hijacked your body once more and there’s nothing you can do about it, nothing you can do except yell and plead when he allows you agency over your lips again.

“Hold still, now,” he says as he leans down to you. As if you had any choice. The blade of the scalpel blurs the background the closer it gets to your eye, and you desperately try to regain control of your body to pull away.

“Cardinal I’m sorry please don’t-” your words are cut off by a visceral scream as the scalpel drives into your eye slowly. Slits are cut into you, one, two, deeply. Streams of purple run down your face and the pain makes you wretch. You’ve lost vision in that one eye, and soon after the process is repeated in the other. It isn’t easier the second time in the slightest. 

You try not to cry, you really do, but the pain and mental anguish is too much. Your tears do nothing to quell the agony, and neither does the hand that lifts your chin. 

“Let me see,” he commands. You try your best to open an eye, not wanting to feel him inside you again, desiring to hold on to some facet of control over yourself without making things worse.

“Attaboy,” he says. It makes you sick. He turns your head, inspecting you as if you were a mere object. You can’t see it, but he’s admiring the golden glow that now seeps from your eyes like sunlight through clouds. You’d thought you’d lost your vision but it slowly returns, painfully and…altered. 

You witness a form you’d never seen before, hovering over the Cardinal’s shoulder. Six wings and seven heads, all eyes on you. The words it communicates appear like runes within your recovering sight, chilling you to your very core..

And then you wake up, frantic, hair a mess in your hive. You’re an adult; you have been for many sweeps now. Right. You’d fallen asleep with your matesprit Vaughn…who should be next to you. As if on queue you hear the sound of his music from the shower, which puts your mind at ease. 

Everything is alright. It was just a dream. A frequent, terrible nightmare.

An unwanted memory.

[dzpenumbra]

7/3/23

Good lord, the night got away from me. It's already almost 5, the sun is coming up. Agh!

I got so much done today, I'm still kinda blown away. I started the day still a bit miffed about the granola that didn't get delivered in my grocery order yesterday... I was really enjoying starting my day with granola and yogurt, it's starting to become my thing. And not having chicken just completely threw off my whole menu, my only protein is chicken (except for eggs in some meals). So... I decided to roll with the punches.

I started to plan out making my own granola. It's most likely going to be cheaper in the long run and I can customize it to make whatever kind of granola I want. There's going to have to be experimentation to get to that point... but yeah, I think I can pull it off. So I started to place a new order to a different grocery store (just to play it safe, in case the one I've been ordering from's supply chain is just fucked), and went with oats, dried strawberries, white chocolate and vanilla. I think it's going to work pretty well. I also decided to get a thing of tofu with it, because fuck it. If I'm already this far and my only step away from vegetarianism is some pre-cooked rotisserie chicken... is it really that big of a leap to just substitute tofu? I guess we'll see. I'm going to save that order for tomorrow afternoon.

I then checked on my plants and saw that my beans are getting ridiculously big. It occurred to me I should get a trellis delivered from Lowe's or something. I was tempted to just walk into the woods and grab some sticks but... it's awkward because I would have to walk back through the gut of town and through my entire building with some 8-foot branches. I'm still feeling self-conscious about shit like that, I really don't know why and I wish I could be a bit more shameless. Like... if I were with one person, I would be fine with it. But alone... it just makes me feel like I have a spotlight on me. I hope I can do something about that soon. I miss the shamelessness of snowskating in the park, I wish I could just magically transfer it over to weird art things.

Instead of going with that plan... I got creative. I remembered that I got a big roll of sisal rope to fix up Max's cat tree for Christmas, and I had a shit-ton left over. So I started my day (before coffee even) weaving a net out of three huge pieces of sisal rope. It's about 5-5.5 feet tall, and I found a little drilled hole in the brick wall right next to where the beans had been living, so I found a spare screw from my desk and mounted the net on the wall and positioned the beans underneath. Within an hour they had wrapped themselves around it! It's so fucking crazy how fast those things move, seriously, it's almost creepy. Because of that, I'm actually interested in growing bamboo sometime. Bamboo is the fastest growing plant in the world. There's just something so crazy to me about seeing something that you normally think of as some inanimate object... and then you come back an hour later and it completely moved itself. That kinda stuff absolutely intrigues me. So.. the beans have a home now! Hopefully it's tall enough... I was reading that they can grow 7-10 feet... and this is only like... 5-6 feet... But there's nowhere higher I can hang that thing so... that's the best I can do. Worse comes to worse... I can hook the net on a big stick and prop the stick against the wall? I guess? I guess we'll just have to see.

In my research this morning, I came across the idea of growing plants upside down. I was thinking... man, if I could just get these beans to be cool with growing down instead of growing up, I could just have them vining from my loft bedroom upstairs and hanging down. That might get messy when it comes time to harvest the beans but... I mean... wouldn't that be easier? And... apparently upside-down gardening is a thing. And I actually could do that. I could even grow tomatoes and strawberries that way. Which would be so cool. I'm sure there are some drawbacks so I'll look into that, but the idea is really fascinating.

After that, remembered I was planning on growing basil in my terracotta pot. But that needed to be sealed. And I was planning on sealing that in the same sealer as the beads I had dyed with ink - tung oil. I've had this bottle of tung oil for over... 6 years? Still hadn't opened it. I was planning to re-finish the scuffed and damaged coffee table that I inherited from my family, that I grew up with. The top had a bunch of water marks and shit, which had the wood sealer peeling off. So... back when I first moved in with my ex, I planned to sand off the sealer and reseal the whole thing with a natural sealant. And tung oil was the one I chose. I never got to the point of ever using the sealer. I just sanded half of it... and then the fights and shit got in the way and I never came back to it.

So, today, I started doing coats of tung oil on the terracotta pot and the red set of beads. It's going well so far. I had been warned of the smell previously, but it's really not that bad at all. It's a weird nutty kinda smell. It's not bad, just new. From what I've been reading, they need about 6 coats, spread apart 6 hours each, fine-grit sanding in between if I want a really nice finish. I've done two coats so far today. So... 3 days total? Once I see what the final finish looks like, I'm most likely going to finally do the coffee table. I just want to test it first. I have plenty of wooden beads and the terracotta pot and saucer was like... maybe $4 total? This coffee table display case is one-of-a-kind, it's the one I grew up with and I think it's older than I am. I just wanna play it safe.

I did yoga, which was again very nice, a good hip and back one, and I was able to open my hips and back a bit more than normal today. Then a deceptively intense upper body workout that I thought was going to be easy. Then I hopped right on stream and streamed until... right before this journal entry. 5.5 hour stream. And the only chat? Some dude who came in and typed so fast and thoughtlessly that he had his right hand shifted over one key, kuje tgus (like this). And then corrected himself to ask me what "app" I was using to make the custom visualizer I was creating. I told him in depth and welcomed him to the stream and... didn't hear anything more out of him. People are really rude nowadays. I'm not fucking google, I'm a person, you can say "hi" and "bye", it won't kill you.

So yeah, I spent like 5 hours working on a visualizer and it came out pretty damn cool. And I got a ton done today, and I feel really good about that. I even spent a good 20 minutes taking my shower drain apart, cleaning it and trying to plunge the drain, just to make sure it's clear. I went for chemical stuff yesterday, which... isn't always the best answer... so I'm trying to get in the habit of more traditional clog clearing methods first, before resorting to chemicals. And I did all this because I showered and had water pooling in the bathtub the day after I did Drano... so... yeah. I gotta do something. If it's not better after this, I'm calling my landlord.

So yeah, that's about that. Gonna move on to tarot before it gets any later.

Past - Five of Wands, inverted (Competition, disagreement, strife, and the accompanying need to step up to the challenge, prove yourself and see it through.) Present - Ace of Swords (Intellect, apply logic and reason, Clarity and focus of mind.) Future - Seven of Cups, inverted (Wishful thinking, fantasy.  Letting imagination run wild, disregarding key facts.)

The start of this one is inverted Five of Wands. Five of Wands represents challenge and competition, and the bravery to step up and face that. In this context, I would see inversion at first glance being a difficulty to stand up against competition who is challenging me.

This is connected to Ace of Swords. Aces are beginnings, origins. And Swords are thought, matters of intellect. So... this would be like a catalyst? An origin idea? A starting idea from which a tree of thought grows?

This is connected to inverted Seven of Cups. Seven of Cups is... having your head in the clouds. Daydreaming, being disconnected from the present. And that's Cups, so... emotionally distant? But not in a Four of Cups kinda way. Maybe just... distracted? I don't know this card well.

Okay, I was a bit off on two of them, but not by much. So... inverted Five of Wands in the Past position makes sense. Difficulty stepping up to the challenge of conflict. This resulted in... more clarity, more focus. Because if I hadn't "failed" there, I wouldn't have thought to reassess the way I'm handing those situations... and I've learned a considerable amount about myself and relationships in general just from having been in those conflicts and not engaged well. I'm definitely more focused on logic and material facts in moments like that now, which helps keep the emotions in balance. This is connected to inverted Seven of Cups - being lost in fantasy. Which is kinda daydreaming, so I wasn't far off. A possibility of this is... I can tip the scale in the other direction and get too lost in logic and rationality that I disconnect from fantasy? That's a possibility. Or... here's a possibility I haven't really considered, a different way of reading the inversion... the clarity I have received is showing me that the inverted cards here... represent the problems the other people I'm thinking of are struggling with. Them competing with me... and being lost in emotion-fueled fantasies. Hmm... food for thought.

Let's check the placeholder card and see if that helps clear anything up. The Hermit, inverted. So... the placeholder card has, in the past, served as sort of a... common thread in the narrative. Like... a reference point. So... I would see dysfunction with The Hermit being... the bad sides of isolation. When isolation goes wrong. That's like.. the theme. So the source of this was... competition, conflict, all that going bad. Yep. And currently my struggle with isolation is... staying clear and rational when it comes to social anxiety and agoraphobia. Yep. And in the future, a possible outcome is... possibly getting stuck in fantasy, disregarding certain facts? Or encountering others that are doing this?

Yeah, I'm having trouble reading this, but mostly because I'm exhausted. I gotta get to bed. Points for trying though!

[subdued-moderation]

INFILTRATION: Shepherd's Flock \ Part IV

PREV | NEXT

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What Temperance descends down into seems like a normal basement at first glace. Just concrete floor, brick walls, crappy lights, all that. Though he's quick enough to descend to spot more Entities emerge from what seems like an elevator built into a wall, one of them hitting a hidden switch to conceal it behind a false wall.

Four of them. Unarmed, strangely enough. While clothed, they've dropped their glamours, revealing their real form and more than confirming their allegiance. With their sheep and ram-like features, they can only be Charity's.

One points at him, shouting while their cohorts slowly advance in martial stances. "Lord Temperance! Our Lady- AGH!!" Temperance doesn't let them finish, the water bottle he took with him having been launched at such high speeds that it cracks against their face and sends them backwards into the wall just behind.

It takes only a flick of his wrist to return the container to the canine's hand, before flexing his digits to make the liquid burst apart the plastic from the inside.

Temperance shifts into combat stance. One empty hand clenched into a fist while the other manipulates the water he had brought.

The air is still for a moment, his other foes still reeling a bit at the sudden shot he performed.

Temperance moves first.

Charging forward, he socks the first on the nose, getting them to snap out of it! They react, right hook, striking his cheek. Temp recoils only to use the momentum to return the punch with his other hand to the gut, punctuating it by making the water geyser down his arm and launch them away into a storage rack with a crash!

The last two have since come to their senses, striking at him from two sides. Temp however, is quick to react, grabbing one by their shirt and swinging them about to impact into the other. They tumble, but only briefly, quick to rise to attack again, one after the other. At the first to rise approaches, Temp extends his hand out to them, making some of the water flow into their maw and nose to choke them! The second to rise gets a headbutt for their troubles, to make them stumble back.

The free moment gives Temp the chance to finish the choking one, who has just fallen to their hands and knees to cough up the water. A hard kick to their abdomen to send them into a wall should do!

Finally, the last one. They mumble something as they pull something from their pocket. There's a flash of steel as Temp turns and finds they've pulled a knife!

He sidesteps a stab, then the next. On the third, he grabs their arm and yanks them in, swinging his knee into their gut! He repeats the motion twice more! Then he grapples around their back, lifts, and performs a vertical suplex on them, making them crash onto the ground!

He hears their yelp in pain as they drop their weapon, the Virtue rising to his feet to recover. With a deep breath, he walks forward, eyes flicking between them and ears perked in case they make an attempt again.

Reaching the hidden elevator, he pushes the first he incapacitated out of the way so he can press the hidden button. This reveals an id scanner, bypassed by simply showing the one he has. The wall opens, allowing access to the elevator.

He steps in, presses the down button, and fixes his jacket as the door closes and he descends...

[blissfullydeadly]

september 1st , 2022

today I woke up having an absolute hatred for my roommate. a couple of days ago she left her journal on my bed. the thought of opening it up and reading it made me queasy to my stomach. i was entering someone's safe space. a space where I clearly did not belong. but, me being the intrusive bitch i am, i opened it. And i kid you the fuck not...the page i opened it to was about me.

she fucking went through my journal when we were still back at Kardon. she then took bits and pieces of what I said and put it into her journal. i was absoluety dumb founded. for me, her journal was on my bed. she willingly went out of her way to search for mine and you know what she fucking wrote for her excuse..."I had an instict to look at L's journal. And well, my gut never lies". Like bitch...are you fucking kidding me.

i hinted at her yesterday that I dont really write in my journal anymore but yet i write on my tumblr space that no one fucking knows about. not even my best friend.

my bf was right. she's a toxic bitch. but at the end of the day i find myself still talking to her and still doing nice gestures for her and i dont know why. she posted a little august dump yesterday and I wasn't included in it and it made me so butt hurt.

this past month i have been helping her get through everything with her and zach. and etc. shes also really fucking hot headed. she posted something on her private this morning with a picture of herself and the caption was " so and so saw it first but im hot"...like bro.

idk, to be honest i have been reaching out to other people. and i have been trying to make freinds so I can proudly say that i have been making an effort. it's just really like an AGH moment

yesterday, i said something really not nice to C. he's been working really hard on getting this house and he's been working his fucking ass off at work for the down payment and etc. he's also been making calls like every mornign to get his insrance and realator in the same boat and all these other adult things.

we were on call yesterday and i decided to be a bitch and I said, "I hope your not miserable at made in america". he instantly let me know that that was really fucking rude and i felt awful after i said it and i apoligiced. he told me that saying sorry doesnt take away the hurt.

i let my selfish thoughts out and it ended up really hurting his feelings. he was the one that bought me the tickets for my birthday and he really didn't have to do that. and on top of him already being over worked...that was just not cool to say. AT all.

sometimes, my thoughts just come out and im really negative. he told me yesterday that whenever we try to plan something i shit on it. and now that i think about it hes not wrong at all. i shat on out vacation, kutztown, other planned things.

i really need to get my ducks in a row because what im doing isnt right. i think he deserves someone better than me . someone that has the capability to treat him as well as he treats me.

[lonelyquail]

this is only a slight exaggeration of my exact mental monologue when I have to not only read but respond to an email and it's late enough that my brain starts getting full of existential dread

this sounds like I'm clowning on him. I'm not I swear!! because he has the same circumstances as me as well!! he is Also having a whole ass existential crisis over just not being Able to function in something as simple as basic society, be it school or eventually work. I've had this exact mental crisis over spiraling from "I can't do this math homework" to "why is my worth as a person defined only by the work I can do when the way my brain is programmed already makes it damn near impossible to be able to work at the same efficiency that the standard person can" and I. I have not seen many characters who don't have some past Explanation for their depression that justifies the way they act this way with some past trauma. kazuaki doesn't have that. I don't have that. we're just forced to live in a society and an economical structure that from minute one is designed to hate our guts, because we're too mentally ill to ever keep up. school is designed against us from minute one, is it even worth being an adult if we know we're not going to survive out there in a job we can't work consistently in? and then we look at ourself and we're catastrophizing over our place in the world over math homework and now it's 3 am and we have still gotten nothing done.

hm. that got a bit personal. anyway this is why kazuaki nanaki is so so so special to me he's the most represented I've ever felt just because he too is Too Mentally Ill To Live In A Society, and while he doesn't actually hate life at all he resents that he has to either be nt passing or die trying so much that his hate for societal structures is what kills him in the end and agh. aghhghg... he is so sososos important to me

[mammonswhore]

Soo what if the MC was suicidal and depressed, so when the boys threaten then and stuff (like how lucifer was gonna kill them when protecting beel and luke) and they don't care or they ask them to do it no balls xD

I like this prompt bc they will be like fucking shocked if MC was not afraid of them. Anyways always remember to check on your mental health🖤♥

Brothers react to an MC who doesn't care about dying.

✒Lucifer

He was in complete shock. Every individual who he threatened was quick to apologize and surrender to his will but this human wasn't?

He dislikes that type of attitude but is also very curious about what happened to them to be this way.

When MC tried to climb up to the attic and he threatened them they just simply said "you know anything can kill me,right? You are not special for that one,Lucifer"

What the actual fuck is going on here?

He forced them to leave anyways but he was thinking about their response all night.

No one talked back to him besides Satan and Belphie and the first person out of his family talking back to him was human. A human! He was annoyed to say the least.

When the relationship between him and MC progressed he become more concerned about it.

He tried to get the truth out of them subtly and without acting suspicious or worried but when they finally said "Lucifer if you want to ask me something, do it. Don't try to get answers out of me that way,it won't work"

When they finally revealed that they were not worried about dead because it will get to them anyway,Lucifer was sad.

He was not only sad because he knew that MC was going to die but because they were not a little bit worried about it.

A sudden wave of sadness gets into Lucifer's chest and he proceeds to hug his lover and tells them that he will take them to therapy.

✒Mammon

He was very happy about MC not caring about dying at first since he couldn't care less and he never properly threatened them as well so they never got to talk back at him.

But once when they were escaping from two witches,MC got hurt and they didn't care at all. Like they literally didn't say shit about the wound on their leg and it took Mammon almost half an hour to realize that the blood he was smelling it was from their wound.

"MC WHY DIDN'T YOU SAY ANYTHING? ARE YOU DUMB? COME ONE,HUMAN! W-WHAT DO YOU MEAN WHAT ARE WE GOING TO DO? I'M GOING TO HELP YOU,FUCK!"

Very stressed out about it,starts yelling about how they need to be careful with their lives because they are weaker than the average and things like it.

"Mammon I don't care about death,I'm kinda craving for it at this point"

His face drops. A sudden feeling he couldn't recognize was placing on him. He was worried but it was not the type he was used to feel around them.

The single thought of MC dying send shivers down his back. He was borried and it was not because Lucifer would kill him but because he couldn't stand that thought.

"Don't go saying things like that,MC... I don't want you to die,human"

He hugs them kinda afraid they might order him to let them die right there.

He is going to look for help and tell Lucifer about it so they both can keep an eye on MC in case of anything.

✒Levi

His first thought when he heard MC saying they wanted to die was "honestly same."

When he was about to kill them on the TSL quizz thing they didn't even flinch. They were not about to run,hide or beg.

When Lucifer stepped in,Levi was fucking shocked but angry at the same time.

"Damn normie,who do they think they are?"

When both of them formed a pact he became more worried about their health,not because they were his master but also his only friend and he was not about to loose them for some stupid shit.

When they hurt doing some stupid shit with him Levi freaks out and has a mini meltdown but tries his best to control his emotions to help his Henry.

"Stupid normie... Can't you be more careful? Dumb,dumb,dumb human... Agh"

He is mad but he is more worried than he is mad so he is trying his best to ask them how are they so stupid without being rude.

He became more careful with his words since he thought that maybe a little push will send them over the edge and make them commit suicide.

Very sharp when others point out that he takes care of them,gets defensive easily and will lock both of them in his room for a while.

✒Satan

He can not properly understand what's going on with them. His first thought is that they are very much dumb.

Gets annoyed by that attitude easily but never looses a chance to asks them if they are really that dumb or if they want to get killed.

"Oh sorry Satan,did my attitude happen to bother you?"

Ugh. The mocking tone in their voice made him furrow his eyebrows and spit venomous words.

"Indeed it does but I can easily understand why are you so reckless,you are defenseless against me and you are still trying to argue with me. I must say you have some guts MC but I don't think it's late for a good reminder that I can kill you easily."

And then they smirked and stepped closer to him with a daring attitude.

"Do it,anything can kill me and I will die eventually so your meaningless threats don't scare me not even a bit."

He was waiting for them to run,to hide and scream for help. But Satan was not expecting that answer.

His demon form unleashed and he was ready to attack but something inside of his his head told him that he was not capable of killing them. And when he realized that he just patted their head and went to his room.

Later on when they made the pact and MC helped him when coming to terms with Lucifer,he was quite scared for their daring attitude.

Every time they went out even if it was with one of his brothers,Satan will check on them with messages or calls every time he could.

To be honest,MC doesn't need this type of checks on them but appreciates it since Satan knows better than anyone how hard it can be to control themselves.

He still gets very pissed off when MC makes snarky comments,dares him for anything or that type of things but he still won't attack them because he loves them way more.

✒Asmo

He is no the type to threaten someone unless they are threatening him first but he was very tired of MC's attitude through the day and he snapped.

"Can't you remember your place,MC? Every single person around can kill you and you still seem to be as sassy as ever."

He was about to apologize with them about his words since he was not the type to talk to them like that but he was surprised when they talked back (again).

"Asmo if you haven't notice I truly don't mind getting killed here,it would be more interesting that dying in the Human Realm to be honest and also everyone is going to die and no one is going to remember me so fuck it."

That was worst. His eyes were very lost trying to figure out where did those words came from? What was going on?

"MC don't day that,please" he whispered very nervous.

Asmo hugged them and calmed himself down. Even for a demon who has seen a lot of people die he was not ready to loose MC and he was also not ready to hear those words fall from their mouth.

"Asmo calm down,please."

"You were joking,right? You don't think that about your life,don't you?"

He might not seem like it but he was completely worried for their health and well being. Being MC the only person he ever considered as a friend and possible lover,he could not stand for what they were saying.

He became more careful with what he said to them and what the others were allowed to say,if someone tried to insult them or make them feel like less he will snap right away of that meant MC will get rid of those awful thoughts.

✒Beelzebub

He threatened them about eating his food but they were unfazed about him,it was the first time he threatened them after making the pact and honestly,his reaction was totally wrong and he knew this and he was ready to apologize but he was shut down by MC's words.

"Do it,I honestly don't care."

What? MC what the hell are you saying?

He calms down and says that they shouldn't say things like that around his brothers because they might explode and actually kill them. He was worried,yes but he was more worried about eating something because his stomach was growling like crazy.

"Why would you say something like that? If it wasn't because we demons can't kill our master you will be dead now,MC."

Beel was stuffing chips into his mouth while watching MC think about an answer, more worried than before.

"I didn't mean to scare you,Beel. But I will die anyways so it's just a matter of time and if someone dared to make it right now I wouldn't stop them."

He feels the chills going through his back, the feeling of loosing someone he loves again was a lot to process and the fact that MC was unfazed and really sure about their words made him feel full suddenly.

"I don't want to loose you,MC. I know that you are a human and all but can't you just take care of yourself a little? I don't want to loose you." *sad beel noises*

Reassuring him that they will try to find help, MC hugs Beel and promises to try to stop this type of comments.

He was still very very worried about them so he was always around keeping an eye and ear on them so no one killed them.

✒Belphie.

This was after the attic events,he was still very unsure about MC's presence on his life but he was hanging on there still getting used to them.

Until they were assigned to wake him up from a 10 hour nap to eat something.

"You dumb human,I will rip your head apart of you wake me up again."

"It's not like if you haven't tried already now wake up and eat something or Lucifer will be pissed."

He was very amused,they were not afraid of him anymore and decided to talk back to him. But he still was shocked to say the least.

The human who he killed once was now giving him orders without a pact or relationship that established that he had to obey them. They had some guts,that was for sure.

When their relationship progressed and he became closer to MC,he was not going to stand for that type of comments.

"MC you can't go around saying that you want to die! It hurts to see you this way, jeez!"

"I can't help it,Belphie. Sometimes my thoughts just slip through my lips without me even trying."

Now that was something he was not expecting to hear. What did they mean? They really wanted to die that bad?

"Listen here you little shit,I already lost you once and I'm not going to loose you again so stop making those stupid comments or I will tell Lucifer to pay you a good therapist... Fucking idiot."

Belphie was worried even if he seems like he was just annoyed by them,he was even mkre worried than what he will like to admit.

[anntidote]

: ♡ love tap - mattsukawa issei

— “i want all of you, and i mean all of you...” ♡

pairing: mattsukawa issei x fem!reader

warnings: smut, fluff if ya squint, lit rally what’s plot?, SIZE KINK, descriptions of fat cock, belly bulging, ahegao face, brain rot (dumbification), squirting, unprotected sex (wrap b4 ya tap), penetration, smidge of aftercare— did i mention issei’s horse cock yet?

summary: according to google, a ‘love tap’ is a sign of affection shown by a simple smack or hit. but in your case, mattsun uses something else... and it’s quite big...

the first time you saw mattsun’s cock, something in you short circuited.

he’s just so pretty. a slight curve to the right and vein on the underside. his tip flushed the same rose of his cheeks, as it whimpers in precum that makes you salivate. but this is besides the fact of his sheer size.

this man his huge. girth needing two of your hands to barely wrap around the base of him, and you’d extend your jaw as much as you could. weighing heavy on your tongue when you gave him a blowjob- only a couple inches in and you’re gagging.

you simply feel so bad.

mattsun had probably gone through women who couldn’t take it. if you’d ask- he’d recount stories of how they were afraid he’d genuinely break them in half, how a girl dislocated her jaw, and so on.

and although there’s nothing wrong with saying no— holy shit, he must have had blue balls for so long.

and that’s most likely why mattsun is whimpering, even when he’s above you. barely keeping himself together as you pant, reaching up to stroke his cheek affectionately.

his arms at either side of your head and barely holding himself up. he lines his tip up at your entrance, breath hitching at how your small hole sputters at the contact. still sensitive from the other orgasms he’d diligently prepped you with. but even so...

“are you sure about this?” he hesitates, eyes boring into yours, trying to find any hint of doubt. “you don’t have to do this for me.”

you resist to roll your eyes, thumb stroking against his cheekbone. your response, hot against his skin when you look at him with a coy look.

“i want all of you, baby.” and you feel his eyes widen when you push your hips against his, the mere tip stretching your walls and having your mouth drop slightly open. your initial even tone, now a bit airy.

“and i mean- all of you.”

to mattsun, that statement meant two things.

the first one is reassurance. and it warms his heart on how willing you are to love him, and i mean, all of him. it’s kind of traumatizing to have women reject you so many times because of your size- yet here you are. so pliant and wanting him, and the entirety of him.

the second one is... well- “ah fuck-!”

your moan sends a shiver down mattsun’s spine as he’s slowly sinking into your heat. cock so thick that your mind fuzzes up like an old VHS tape, and he groans in tandem with you. your body curling forward at the delicious burn- his cock nothing like you’d ever taken before.

he moves his hands to rub against the side of your thighs reassuringly. “y-your cunt is so tight, baby... ah shit- i might break ya...”

your pupils are cloudy when you say words that make mattsun’s stomach churn.

“please...”

mattsun should be laughing, ‘cause fuck— you want him to break you?

you’d already made a dark puddle against the sheets- your arousal is undeniable and sending mattsun for a loop. he takes his hand and reaches down, rubbing along your pussy to find the button that makes your vision speckle. and your legs unconsciously spread wider, a moan falls from your lips.

and it’s when he bottoms out, hips flush against yours, is when your breath is knocked right out of you. your cunt, speared open by the sheer girth of mattsun’s cock. and you blink at the blurry vision you have, your vocal cords null, as you try to suck in a breath but absolutely failing- as it feels like you’ve been split in two. his cock, simply too much for your small body.

“fuck, baby.” he hissed from above you- the feeling of your velvety walls enveloping the entirety of him feeling so... so... good.

all you can think about is how heavy his balls feel against the skin of your ass, but it’s hard to put together any thoughts when your guys are being rearranged. your lungs never having a mere second to expand.

and mattsun wishes you could see how you look right now.

drool running down your chin when his cock drags out slowly, your cunt clenching when you take in a greedy breath. tears beginning to stream, and your brain processes with one thought, and one thought only.

mattsun’s cock is fucking huge.

and when you squeeze around the tip of him, he’s already pushing back in. your whimpers are delicious against his ears when he rolls his hips against yours, even when your hands find a purchase on his shoulders.

“sh-should’ve fucked this cunt sooner if i-“ he breathes, his fingers gripping against the meat of your waist. and you’re crying as he sets his pace, thrusting, and your vision going hazy- almost as if you were a virgin again.

“you’re...so... big- agh!!” your throb around him, sucking him in greedily- but you simply can’t help it. the feeling impossibly good, thrumming through your veins.

you wanna get fucked full.

“uhh... aah...” you could barely keep your eyes open at the sheer speed and force of his thrusts. balls slapping against your ass and pleasure clouding your rationality.

“cunt so tight, ya can’t let me g-go...” he grunts out, thrusting a tad faster, gripping your hips and sure to bruise.

the moan that escapes you is pornographic and embarrassing— something mattsun would love to tattoo into his ears. especially when you’re whimpering incoherent phrases, cheeks wet with tears, and eyes half lidded— simply because you’re being speared by his cock.

and a curse escapes him, finally noticing the obscene squelch that rings louder and louder, with every brush of his cock against you. “ ‘m gonna fill ya up, doll. fill ya up nice and good.”

he can’t fool you with how clenched his jaw is, and the tightness in his gut that threatens to pour over. the stutter in his hips and how your toes curl. the intensity of the ordeal building higher and higher. and when you deliberate clench around his shaft, feeling every ridge of him- it’s almost painful.

yet it only takes his name to stumble from your lips to let the dam, overflow.

“issei, please—!!”

“fuck fuck fuck!” mattsun groans, settling on longer strokes and burying himself inside of you. filling you with utter warmth that poops against your inner walls in milky ropes. “ah shit-“ only for him to fuck his seed into you, and the tantalizing spasm of your walls against his sensitive length sends him for a frenzy.

“issei-!” your chest tightens, almost as if you can’t breathe. your back arches, a familiar pressure beginning to push a limit, and your alarms beginning to go off. “issei- issei-“ you try to say, but your pussy just grows tighter and tighter. your body thrumming, and burning up in utter heat, when you gurgle his name.

“c’mon, babe. a-almost there.” he punctuates with a specific thrust that makes you cry out.

you’re already sobbing at this point. moans are broken and everything is incoherent nonsense- but that’s what mattsun wants. and what he wants—

you’d gladly serve.

“issei—!”

and it’s too much, when the pressure snaps. the intense burn as your squirt, cumming all over the length of his shaft and hips. and it keeps coming with every thrust. you feel your juices trickling down your thighs, and hear your boyfriend curse under his breath. specifically when he reaches down to the slight bump in your stomach, pressing slightly, and feeling the tip of his cock adjust.

and your cum sloshes inside of you, mixing with his, and it chases mattsun’s cock when he pulls out. crippling past your lower lips and onto the cotton sheets below.

you’re a wreck.

cunt utterly abused and lips swollen. lashes wet, and cum slowly trickling between your thighs. bruised, tongue lolling out- only able to nod when mattsun strokes your cheek, asking if you wanted a bath.

but not before he takes his softening cock, and giving a light slap to your sputtering cunt. you jolt, sending him a death glare.

“ ‘‘twas just a love tap, baby.” he responds with that stupid, know-it-all smirk, before you hear his feet patter against the bathroom tiles, and a flick of the faucet.

the second thing, that “all of you” told him is simple.

that he loves you. tapping or not.