#but this just happened so here we are

[angellayercake]

Last Bow

NSFW

Sister Imperator x Reader

AO3

Some Sister Angst/Smut for you @onedaughterofman​

She was still covered in traces of blood when she exited the room, closing the door softly behind her before leaning against it and meeting your eyes where you stood waiting. Like a fool. Probably. You had lost track of time a while ago, it could have been five minutes or five hours since you had discreetly followed her as she dragged him off. To seal the deal as she had been instructed. He was needed, valuable to the cause, Lucifer’s chosen and she was to do whatever it took to secure his loyalty, including fucking him senseless apparently. 

A smirk pulled at her lips but the expression didn’t meet her eyes. She played her part well, you thought. Too well sometimes. She swore to you that you were the only one who knew her, truly knew her but you weren’t sure. Since you were young she had had a lust for power, an often underestimated willpower and an unwavering loyalty to the Old One.

It didn’t stop you from loving her though. You would question her sometimes even disapprove but if she asked then you would do anything for her in spite of your reservations. Which was how you ended up here you supposed, watching her seduce that idiot man across the party and lurking in corridors as she cried out in performed pleasure. 

‘Good was he?’ You had aimed for a joke but the bitterness inside you sours it, makes it fall flat and her eyes go blank even as the smirk stays fixed on her lips.

‘Why are you jealous?’ It digs in under your ribs like a knife and suddenly you are pressing her against the door aggressively kissing the look off of her face as her nails dig into the skin of your shoulders. 

‘I should make you come right here. So he knows what you sound like when some one fucks you properly.’ You are gripping her waist too hard as you trail your lips down her neck determined to leave your own mark over the top of the one he had left. She just laughs weaving her fingers through your hair keeping you in place.

‘Come on,’ she whispers as her grip tightens, pulling you up to meet her eyes. There is still a hard edge, there always is, but some of her spark has started to return. The spark that makes you incapable of denying her anything. ‘Make me forget about him?’ You can only nod in response as she slides her fingers out of your hair and takes your hand leading you away from that room to the only place the two of you are free to be your true selves. 

As soon as the door closes you are back on her but your intention now is to worship rather than mark her as your own. You kiss her like you are trying to communicate all those things you can never quite bring yourself to say. The sweet things, the sad things, the desperate things, the angry things. Anything that could disrupt the tightrope of feelings the two of you have been walking for as long as you can remember. She sighs into your mouth as you work to free her from the tight dress she had been wearing and in turn freeing her from the last sign of her obligations for the night. She had done her duty, this was your time now. 

You peel the dress down her body following your progress as her marked skin is revealed to you. You can’t suppress the possessive growl that escapes when you see the black marks he had left across her breasts. You rub your thumb over them smudging until they lose the distinct shape of his mouth. You sense her watching you but you can’t face her so you pinch her nipples between your fingers instead and listen for her tell-tale gasp before soothing them with your tongue, first one then the other until they are pebbled and over sensitive. 

You finally meet her wide dark eyes as you sink down to your knees in front of her. You work the dress down her legs and she rests her hand on your shoulder as she steps out of it leaving her bare but for her shoes and stockings and a pulse of heat burns through you as you trail your fingers over her. You grasp her hips, your fingertips not quite able to line up with the faint bruises blooming on her skin and ease her to lean against the door behind her. You place a kiss on the jut of her hip bones doing your best to ignore the growing reminder of his touch before smoothing your hands down her thighs and encouraging her legs apart so you can get exactly where you want, no need to be. 

You would usually spend more time on her kissing up her thighs, lavishing her in attention. The ticklish spot inside her knee, the place on her inner thigh that makes her shake and her mound that if you grazed with your teeth made her tighten her thighs, trapping you against her. But not this time. You licked from her entrance to her clit, a hard broad stroke of your tongue and she groans above you. You can taste him on her, it should sicken you, you think. Instead you take a perverse pleasure in it. He may have had her but he would never please her as you do. 

Her fingers weave through your hair guiding your movements as she grinds down against your face. When she directs you to her clit you suck and lap at it dutifully. Perfectly attuned to her sounds and movements you let them guide you to exactly how she needs you to pleasure her until her legs start to give out and you have to press her hips into the door to help her stay upright. You slide two fingers into her and shiver as she clenches around you and hope he didn’t make her do that. Curving your fingers up you hone in on her sensitive spot stimulating her with every thrust as you simultaneously continue sucking and stroking her clit with your tongue. 

She is close you know as her fingers tighten in your hair, preventing you from pulling away, as if you would. Her breathing is quick and shallow, from your position you can see the muscles in her stomach jumping as you bring her closer and closer but the only sounds from her are choked off moans and whimpers. She never begs to come. Never implores you not to stop. Always certain that you will do exactly as she wants. And you do, not stopping until she has finished clenching and grinding against you, until she loosens her death grip on your hair, until her muscles unclench and she is able to stand without you pressing her against the door. 

‘Make yourself come for me.’ It comes out a whisper but you feel the order down to your core. You are so close already as you slide your fingers, still wet from her orgasm into your soaked slit. There is no resistance as you push at your entrance and grind your clit against your palm. Her fingers tighten in your hair once again forcing you to look up at her as you frantically grind against your own hand. ‘Come for me.’ Her voice is stronger now and brokers no argument and with two more rolls of your hips your orgasm crashes over you, leaving you a shuddering panting mess at her feet.   

You rest your head against her thigh as you both fight to catch your breath. As the urgency fades in the afterglow reality sets back in. The floor is hard and unforgiving on your knees but you can’t bring yourself to move just yet. Tonight had just been the start of what the Clergy had planned for their new Papa. And what you knew of what was to come held Sister Imperator at the centre. The whispers of Prime Mover and the intention to summon the Antichrist had even reached your ears. You choke down a sob as the implications begin to crash around you. She slides down the door until she is sat there with you and able to envelope you in her arms. You let the tears fall while accepting the comfort she offers trying not to acknowledge that this may be the last time.

[egophiliac]

queen of diamonds, upright + reversed 💎

I've redone this like eighty times, I have to just be done with it now and stop staring at all my mistakes oh no 🫠

[inkskinned]

the thing is there's like, a point of oversaturation for everything, and it's why so many things get dropped after a few minutes. and we act like millennials or gen z kids "have short attention spans" but... that's not quite it. it's more like - we did like it. you just ruined it.

capitalism sees product A having moderate success, and then everything has to come out with their "own version" of product A (which is often exactly the same). and they dump extreme amounts of money and environmental waste into each horrible simulacrum they trot out each season.

now it's not just tiktokkers making videos; it's that instagram and even fucking tumblr both think you want live feeds and video-first programming. and it helps them, because videos are easier to sneak native ads into. the books coming out all have to have 78 buzzwords in them for SEO, or otherwise they don't get published. they are making a live-action remake of moana. i haven't googled it, but there's probably another marvel or starwars something coming out, no matter when you're reading this post.

and we are like "hi, this clone of project A completely misses the point of the original. it is soulless and colorless and miserable." and the company nods and says "yes totally. here is a different clone, but special." and we look at clone 2 and we say "nope, this one is still flat and bad, y'all" and they're like "no, totally, we hear you," and then they make another clone but this time it's, like, a joyless prequel. and by the time they've successfully rolled out "clone 89", the market is incredibly oversaturated, and the consumer is blamed because the company isn't turning a profit.

and like - take even something digital like the tumblr "live streaming" function i just mentioned. that has to take up server space and some amount of carbon footprint; just so this brokenass blue hellsite can roll out a feature that literally none of its userbase actually wants. the thing that's the kicker here: even something that doesn't have a physical production plant still impacts the environment.

and it all just feels like it's rolling out of control because like, you watch companies pour hundreds of thousands of dollars into a remake of a remake of something nobody wants anymore and you're like, not able to afford eggs anymore. and you tell the company that really what you want is a good story about survival and they say "okay so you mean a YA white protagonist has some kind of 'spicy' love triangle" and you're like - hey man i think you're misunderstanding the point of storytelling but they've already printed 76 versions of "city of blood and magic" and "queen of diamond rule" and spent literally millions of dollars on the movie "Candy Crush Killer: Coming to Eat You".

it's like being stuck in a room with a clown that keeps telling the same joke over and over but it's worse every time. and that would be fine but he keeps fucking charging you 6.99. and you keep being like "no, i know it made me laugh the first time, but that's because it was different and new" and the clown is just aggressively sitting there saying "well! plenty of people like my jokes! the reason you're bored of this is because maybe there's something wrong with you!"

[pikechris]

yeah the doctor hasn't kissed a man since 2005 but they also haven't kissed anyone on screen since missy in 2014. ten actual years. do you understand the significance of this

[hailsatanacab]

A Persuasive Argument - dpxdc

"Great!" Danny says, clapping his hands together to get everyone's attention. The dinner table falls silent as everyone looks towards him. It's a full house today and, honestly, Danny's a little nervous. "I'm sure you're all wondering why I gathered you here today."

"It's dinnertime. In our house." Duke mutters, while doing a very bad job of concealing his yawn. He holds his fork poised over the braised beef, but, just like everyone else, still looks towards Danny before tucking in. It's intriguing enough to wait.

"Yeah, no one misses Alfie's dinner." Dick says, with a brilliant smile that Danny can't help but return.

"Precisely! What better time to talk to you all than when you're all actually here!"

"Wait, I thought you came round to work on our English essays?" Tim asks, blinking owlishly.

"I'm afraid I've lured you here under false pretences, Tim."

"This is where I live."

"I would still really appreciate help on that essay though, I mean, what the hell is Hamlet even about? I just don't get that old time-y language, like 'Hark! A ghost hath killed me!' - absolute rubbish, what does that even mean?"

"The ghost never kills anyone in Hamlet, he's there to tell Hamlet that he was murdered. Have you actually read it?"

"No, but it sounds like you have. Tim, I want this guy to help me with my essay instead. I know for a fact that you haven't read Hamlet, either."

"So? We don't need Jason, I've read the Sparknotes."

"Hi Jason, I'm Danny, pleasure to meet you, summarise Hamlet in three sentences or less."

"Am I auditioning to help you write your essays? I can't believe you’ve gone through your whole school life without reading it, it’s good!"

"Hamlet, along with a number of other classics, was banned in our house because it portrayed ghosts as intelligent and sympathetic beings rather than evil, animalistic beasts. I didn’t even get to see The Muppet's Christmas Carol until last year with Tim! It was surprisingly good, and I hate Christmas because everyone always argued and it sucked. But we're getting off topic. I—"

"No, no, please go back to that, because what the fu—"

"Boys, please." Bruce interrupts, looking to the world as if he wants to hang his head in his hands. "Danny, you were about to say something?"

"Oh, yeah, Mr. Wayne! Thanks!"

"Please, call me Bruce."

"Well, that very succinctly brings me to my point, because I'd actually really like to call you dad."

Nobody says a word. Nobody even blinks, all as shocked as the other, watching open-mouthed as Danny pulls his laptop out from beside his chair. Bruce can definitely feel a headache coming on.

"Before you say anything, I've prepared a 69 slide PowerPoint presentation on why you, Bruce Wayne, should adopt me, Danny Last-Name-Pending. Please save your questions, comments, and verdict until the end, thank you."

[juniemunie]

[Abandoned by the Lightners, his heart became cracked with hatred.]

Hitting a lil' too close to home?

[stratos-ane]

hey guys i kinda did A Thing

[twinstxrs]

so much happened in this whole episode but i’m still on fig infiltrating ruben’s dream, making it look like the place where his friend was murdered, and then disguising herself as kipperlilly & repeatedly saying different variants of “somebody needs to take the fall for this, and it’s not going to be me. it’s going to be you.” while adaine as the elven oracle shows up next to her. can you imagine waking up from that, the idea of a horrible truth being pinned on you by your friend to save her own skin while the personification of fate and destiny stands there, almost as a promise that this is GOING to happen to you. we don’t even know if this kid is guilty. my god.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

I'm a doctor, not a miracle worker.

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[floccinaucinihilipilificationa]

[rickybaby]

The BBC has an article titled The 'delicious irony' of the Met Gala's Garden of Time theme, in which it explores the dystopian short story by JG Ballard that has inspired this year’s theme.

As the article describes it, it is a ‘short story in which the last bastion of rich, refined beauty – with its classical music, rare books, and its lovely clothing – is overrun by a working-class mob’. As the author continues on to talk about how dystopian the Met Gala with its $30,000 ticket, is in the context of the global uncertainty and increasing poverty, maybe the author themselves would have failed to imagine just how dystopian the whole event would actually end up being.

As we’re all distracted by the gorgeous clothes and display of wealth happening on our phones, there is a group of pro-Palestinian protestors marching towards the gala - a reminder how once again, Israel is taking advantage of how we’re easily distracted by shiny things to ramp up its attack on Rafah

[chaosgenasi]

I’ve had a life. I think a lot of us here have had a life. And I can count the really good days practically on two hands.

[egophiliac]

messing around with techniques! I...like the foxman and the catboy a lot okay

also, a couple of quickies that honestly don't deserve any more effort than I've already given them:

[jeeaark]

Shirtless Disaster Pt. 1

So. pretty sure the emperor cusses. just. never had the reason to say out loud. or has a filter on when they talk. Until Greygold happened. You ever try and look with the emperor's perspective when Tav makes decisions and go, 'H-how are you not ceaselessly cussing like a sailor at Tav?'

ANYWAY- HERE'S THE THING. TRULY. Always had my squinty-eyed caution on Emps. Trying to ascertain if they were for real with their words/actions/intentions or not. but. Squid buddy sharing their feelings of caring was the uh snowball that started this avalanche. Can't fake feelings huah, GREYGOLD FINALLY FOUND THOSE MUSHY BITS HUAH.

I ain't gonna let y'all wonder what Greygold's answer was, so uh. Bonus!

[inkskinned]

it is all chaos and entropy. the thing is that the chaos and entropy make it beautiful and lovely.

yes, it's true that nature and the universe are uncaring and unspecific, and that is terrifying. i have lived through some of the unfairness - i got born like this, with my body caving into itself, with this ironic love of dance when i sometimes can't stand up for longer than 15 minutes. i am a poet with hands that are slowly shutting down - i can't hold a pen some days. recently i found a dead bird on our front porch. she had no visible injuries. she had just died, the way things die sometimes.

it is also true that nature and the universe are uncaring and unspecific, and that is wonderful. the sheer happenstance that makes rain turn into a rainbow. the impossible coincidence of finding your best friend. i have made so many mistakes and i have let myself down and i have harmed other people by accident. nature moves anyway. on the worst day of my life she delivers me an orange juice sunset, as if she is saying try again tomorrow.

how vast and unknowing the universe! how small we are! isn't that lovely. the universe has given us flowers and harp strings and the shape of clouds. how massive our lives are in comparison to a grasshopper. the world so bright, still undiscovered. even after 30 years of being on this earth, i learned about a new type of animal today: the dhole.

chance echoing in my life like a harmony between two people talking. do you think you and i, living in different worlds but connected through the internet - do you think we've ever seen the same butterfly? they migrate thousands of miles. it's possible, right?

how beautiful the ways we fill the vastness of space. i love that when large amounts of people are applauding in a room, they all start clapping at the same time. i love that the ocean reminds us of our mother's heartbeat. i love that out of all the colors, chlorophyll chose green. i love the coincidences. i love the places where science says i don't know, but it just happens.

"the universe doesn't care about you!" oh, i know. that's okay. i care about the universe. i will put my big stupid heart out into it and watch the universe feast on it. it is not painful. it is strange - the more love you pour into the unfeeling world, the more it feels the world loves you in return. i know it's confirmation bias. i think i'm okay if my proof of kindness is just my own body and my own spirit.

i buried the bird from our porch deep in the woods. that same day, an old friend reaches out to me and says i miss you. wherever you go, no matter how bad it gets - you try to do good.

[shimmershy]

Chara Week Day 5: Ghost

Every time I see that machine in the True Lab, I wonder if it could possibly be Chara's soul in there? Probably unlikely, but not impossible... It's interesting to think about what the implications of that would be.

A version with no text and then a version with just the machine, because I think it looks pretty cool and ominous alone as well.....