#like. that's a violation on a pretty deep level

[cressidagrey]

The Witching Hour - Chapter 4 - Morrigan

Summary: 

5 Times members of the Inner Circle get absolutely terrified by Azriel's...whatever she is, and 1 (of many) times Azriel thinks that his witch was the best thing that ever happened to him.

Warnings: 

Seeing the future, Mor bashing, mention of rough but consensual sex

(super pretty dividers by @cafekitsune)

"You invited who to lunch?" Mor breathed. Feyre looked at her, a flicker of something in his expression. Concern, maybe?

"Cate agreed to join us," she said, his voice steady. "She might be our best chance of helping Elain."

Mor closed her eyes. "You invited Cate to lunch? Are you serious?" she hissed at Feyre. “Does Rhys know about this?" Mor demanded. Probably not, because she was quite sure that her cousin would have put a fucking stop to it. 

Feyre let out a deep breath. "No," she admitted. "I haven't told Rhys yet."

Mor's eyes widened. "You haven't told him? Are you out of your mind?" she demanded. Rhys was going to be utterly furious and Mor couldn’t even fault him for it. 

At Feyre's side, Nesta let out a snort, a small smirk on her lips.

Hecate was… morally questionable on a good day. 

She disappeared for decades and then showed up somewhere, wrecking havoc only to disappear again. Morrigan was quite sure that she had fingers in every bit of political unrest of the last thousand years in some way or another. That was literally what she was known for. 

Witches were a dying breed, rare and often assassinated for the power they possessed...but nobody had yet managed to killed Hecate The Undying. Which was too bad. 

Feyre's irritation flared at Mor's words, but she tried to keep her voice steady. "Look, I understand your reservations about Cate, but...she's willing to help us with Elain. That's what matters right now."

Mor's expression darkened even further. "You have no idea what you're getting yourself into, Feyre,” she implored her friend. “Cate is... dangerous.” That didn’t even begin to cover it. Dangerous was a fucking understatement. “You don't want her involved in this."

"So everybody keeps telling. But nobody says what exactly makes her oh so dangerous," Feyre said with a roll of her eyes. Mor considered throttling her High Lady. "Azriel gets along with her so she can't be that bad, right?" Feyre asked her. Mor clenched her jaw, frustration welling up within her.

Feyre was always so stubborn, so determined to see the best in everyone. It was endearing but also infuriating.

"You don't understand," she said through gritted teeth. "Cate may look harmless enough, but she's...unpredictable. Unhinged. She has a history of crossing lines, of violating boundaries, both physical and mental.And while Azriel gets along with her," Mor continued, her tone sharp. "That's not a good thing. Azriel and Cate have a...complicated history, to say the least. They've gotten far too close, in more ways than one."

Feyre rolled her eyes. "I'm sure they've spent some time... together."

Mor wanted to grab Feyre and shake her. "That's putting it lightly," she said, her voice strained. "They've done much more than just spend time together, and their...relationship has never been entirely...healthy."

Feyre's expression remained unchanged. "So what if they've slept together?" she said, her voice calm and level. "They're both consenting adults. I fail to see why it's such a big deal."

Mor felt her irritation flare, and she struggled to keep her voice even. "You don't understand," she repeated, her tone bordering desperation. "What they do…it's...it's not normal. Not healthy. It's a toxic..habit."

"I like how you are comparing me to a mirthroot addiction."

Morrigan growled, turning around. There she was. 

Mor's gaze hardened as Cate made her entrance, strolling in as if it was the most natural thing in the world. It infuriated her how cavalier the female could be, as if she didn't have a care in the world. 

Yet, despite herself, Mor found her eyes being drawn to the female, taking in her effortless beauty. Cate hadn't changed over the centuries. Still breathtakingly beautiful.Yes, Cate was undeniably attractive, but she was also dangerous. Lethal, even.

Mor blinked as she took in the dress she wore. For one moment she may have called it modest, with long sleeves and a floor-length skirt...and then she blinked and the off-the-shoulder neckline revealed bruises and bite marks that covered Cate’s neck and shoulder.

Mor felt her eyes widening at the sight of the marks marring Cate's skin. 

She knew the female was unrestrained, that she had no reservations about her body or her...encounters with Azriel, but seeing the evidence of her...dalliances on display was still jarring, to say the least. Mor's eyes darkened as she noticed Feyre's gaze flickering to the marks, a flicker of curiosity and...something else in her expression. Something that made Mor's blood boil.

This was not the time to let her mind wander to thoughts of Azriel and the things he had done with this female. She had to keep her focus, keep her mind on the task at hand.

But it was hard, when Cate was standing there, dressed to tantalize, with the physical reminders of her time with Azriel on full display. It was like a mockery, a taunt, a reminder of the closeness between them.

Mor clenched her fists to keep her hands from shaking, her irritation growing with every passing moment. She had to focus, to keep herself composed, even as the sight of Cate's body, marked and dishevelled, sent a shameful thrill of something through her.

She could feel Feyre's gaze on her, watching her reaction to the female like a hawk. Mor forced her face to remain impassive, refusing to give anything away. She couldn't let herself be distracted by her own complicated feelings towards the female, or the things she knew - and didn't know - that Cate and Azriel had done together.

But it was hard, so damn hard, when Cate was standing right there. Mor could almost feel the heat radiating off her, as if the female was trying to taunt her, to push her buttons.

And it was working. Mor could feel her own blood heating, her body responding to the sight of the female against her will. It took all her willpower to maintain her composure and keep a neutral expression on her face.

As if sensing her struggle, Cate let out a soft laugh, a sly smile playing on her lips. "You look like you're about to explode, Mor. Something wrong?" she teased, her voice low and almost sensual.

Mor gritted her teeth, her knuckles turning white as she clenched her fists tighter. She knew Cate was enjoying this, enjoying the effect she was having on her. It was almost infuriating, the way she could get under her skin with such ease.

But Mor refused to give her the satisfaction of seeing her lose her composure. She forced herself to take a deep breath and look Cate straight in the eye. "I'm fine," she said through gritted teeth. "Just….fine."

Cate's smile widened, her eyes sparkling. "Oh, come on now, Mor. We both know that's not true." She took a slow, deliberate step towards her, closing the distance between them. "You're a terrible liar. Always have been."

Mor's heart thumped in her chest as Cate moved closer, her movements like a predator closing in on its prey. She could feel the heat radiating off the female's body, the scent of something rich and foreign filling her nostrils. 

"Why are you even here?" Mor snapped.

Cate's smile turned amused. "Oh, I'm here for lunch, of course. Didn't you get the invite?"

Mor's irritation flared even further. The female always had such a nonchalant attitude, never taking anything seriously. It was infuriating.

"Don't play coy with me," she snapped. "We both know why you're really here."

Cate let out a low laugh, her eyes glittering. "Oh, do we now? And why's that?" she asked, feigning innocence.

Mor's irritation boiled over, her voice rising. "Azriel. You're here for him, aren't you?"

Cate arched an eyebrow, her expression unreadable. She looked around, eyes clearly moving around the room, carefully turning around her own axis. "Azriel is nowhere to be seen," she said drily.

"You know what I mean," Mor retorted, her voice sharp. "You're always after him, always pestering him.”

Cate let out another soft laugh, her eyes glimmering with something dangerous. "Oh, Morrigan. Always so protective. And jealous."

Mor's lips curled at the word. "'I am not jealous," she bit out.

Cate stepped closer, her voice dropping to a whisper.

"No? Then why do you look like you want to rip my throat out right now? Were it the bite marks that pushed you over the edge? You don't like the visible evidence that Azriel enjoys everything we do? If you wanted him for yourself, Morrigan, you could have," Cate said with a shrug. "He would have never refused you. By the cauldron, he spent centuries yearning for you, only for you to strangle him with his feelings at every opportunity."

Mor felt like she had just been punched in the gut. Cate's words cut right through her. Of course, she knew about Azriel's feelings for her, his unwavering devotion. And of course, she knew she had been nothing but a coward.

But hearing it thrown in her face like this, hearing Cate say it so nonchalantly, was like pouring salt on an open wound.

And the worst part was that Cate was right. Azriel had waited for her for centuries, only for her to push him away at every turn. Mor had known all this, had carried the weight of her cowardice for so long. And hearing Cate speak it out loud, in that nonchalant, almost taunting tone, made her feel like a fool.

But she refused to show weakness. Not in front of Cate.

She set her jaw, meeting Cate's gaze with a defiant glare.

"Don't pretend like you actually care about Azriel," she snapped. "You just use him. You use everyone."

"Oh that's rich, coming from you," Cate replied, her own expression hardening. "You've been using him for centuries, playing with his feelings like a cat toys with a mouse. Always just out of reach, just close enough to keep him coming back for more."

It was like a stinging slap. Mor felt the color drain from her face. Because Cate was right. She had been using Azriel for decades, using his feelings and devotion to keep him close, even though she knew she would never return those feelings.

Despite herself, her eyes stung with tears at the truth in the words. She had been lying to herself for so long, pretending to be the victim in all this. But Cate had laid out the reality, plain and simple, and Mor had never felt more exposed.

Mor tried to gather her wits, to come up with a snappy retort, but her mind was blank, her tongue thick and heavy in her mouth. For once in her life, she was at a loss for words

"For somebody that keeps insisting your power is truth, you can't seem to take it dished to you," Cate said darkly. "And for the record, I am only here because the High Lady thought that I may be able to help Elain. I'm a seer, just like her, remember?" she said, her voice sardonic. "And I might just have a bit more experience in dealing with my gift than Elain has. I have spent over a millennia in this world after all. It's possible I may be able to help her learn to control her power."

Despite herself, Mor's eyes widened slightly. It was a logical explanation, a valid reason for Cate's presence. But there was a part of her, a small, bitter part, that still couldn't accept it.

"And why would you help her?" she asked, her voice cold."What do you stand to gain from helping Elain?"

Cate's eyes gleamed with annoyance. "This may be hard to believe, but not everyone in the world is as self-absorbed as you," she taunted. "Maybe I'm just a nice person and I want to help another fellow Seer not drown in her visions and nightmares, hm? Did you ever consider that possibility?"

Mor gritted her teeth. She hated the way her heart lurched at Cate's biting words, the way they dug into her insecurities. "You don't exactly seem like the 'nice person' type," she shot back. "Forgive me for being suspicious."

"Your suspicions are noted, but you're wrong," Cate said with a shrug. "I don't do everything I do from some twisted motivation. I have feelings, you know. I'm not an emotionless monster."

Mor snorted, unable to hide her disbelief. "You could have fooled me," she said with a roll of her eyes.

Cate shot her a venomous glare. "You know, just because I'm not always wearing my heart on my sleeve doesn't mean I don't have feelings," she snapped. "Not everyone shows emotions in the same way you do, Morrigan."

Mor's stomach clenched as the words hit home. She knew that all too well. Just because she expressed her emotions outwardly, in words and actions, didn't mean everyone else did as well.

Still, she couldn't help but snark: "You don't show them at all most of the time."

"Maybe that's because I've learned to keep my feelings guarded, especially around people like you," Cate shot back, her voice sharp. "You have a habit of using people's emotions against them."

Mor's chest tightened. Cate was right again, and it stung. She had done it with Azriel time and time again, playing on his feelings for her, keeping him just close enough to keep him hoping for more. She hated herself for it, but she had done it anyway.

She couldn't stop the words from escaping her mouth. "And you don't?"

"Not like you," Cate retorted, her eyes narrowing. "| may flirt with everyone, but at least I'm upfront about it. I never promise more than I'm willing to give, and I don't play with people's hearts like you do."

"Can we go back to Elain now?" Nesta snapped.

Mor blinked, only just remembering that Nesta was in the room. She had been so focused on the back and forth with Cate that she had practically forgotten about the other females.

The sound of Nesta's voice snapped her out of her thoughts and back to reality. She looked over at the other female, who was looking less than amused.

"Gladly," Cate said with a roll of her eyes. "Where is she?"

"In the garden, I think," Mor said, her voice cracking slightly. She took a deep breath, trying to regain her composure. "She says the sunshine helps." 

Cate pushed off the wall, straightening her dress. "Well let's go, then," she said briskly. "The sooner we get to Elain, the sooner I can get out of here." 

Mor gritted her teeth, her irritation flaring. "What's wrong, not enjoying yourself?" she sniped back.

"Oh, I'm having a wonderful time," Cate said drily, giving Mor a mocking smile. "Your sparkling personality just makes it all worthwhile."

Feyre bit out a laugh at that. Mor glared at her. 

"The sunshine keeps the visions at bay," Feyre explained, growing serious as she led them down the garden path. "Is that…normal?"

Cate nodded. "Yes and no," she said, her attention focused on the path ahead. "It's normal for someone just coming into their power. The visions and images can be overwhelming, especially in a dark environment. But as a seer becomes more practised, they learn to control their power and it becomes less dependent on external factors like light or darkness."

"Elain?" Nesta called out to her sister, who was digging by the roses. Elain was lovely as always, a Sunhat on her head. "There is somebody we want you to meet."

Elain turned, her expression polite and open. She looked at the group of them, her gaze lingering on Cate.

Her gaze shuttered.

"Oh no," Feyre breathed.

Elain was having one of her visions.

The words spilt from Elain's lips, her voice low and strained, as though it took great effort to speak them.

"One who was Death must become Undying, for the thread of their souls are twined through the ages. They shall fight side by side in battle, their fates intermingled."

"Interesting," Cate murmured.

Mor felt her heart rate speed up at the words. Even without knowing their meaning, they sent a shiver down her spine. Death becomes Undying. It sounded...ominous.

But Cate seemed unaffected, casually intrigued.

"Is that always how they are?" Cate asked, as Elain's gaze cleared.

Feyre looked at her sister, concern written all over her face. Her voice was low as she said, "Yes. They're always like that. Vague and mysterious."

Elain blinked, her gaze slowly regaining focus. She seemed dazed, disoriented

"What did you see, Elain?" Feyre asked gently.

Elain shook her head as though trying to clear away the fog. "I don't...I'm not sure," she said weakly.

Cate took a step forward, her gaze sharp on Elain. "Can you tell me what you do remember?" she asked, her voice soft yet firm.

Elain frowned, her brow furrowing as she tried to recall.

"Not much," she admitted. "There were….shadows," she said slowly. "And a field of corpses."

Mor's heart dropped at the words. Shadows and corpses...it sounded like a battlefield.

Cate pulled out a crystal ball out of her pocket, not any bigger than a fist. Mor watched as Cate held the crystal ball up, the sunlight refracted off its surface and casting little rainbows over the ground.

"What are you doing?" Feyre asked, her voice wary.

"It's easier for a Seer if they have a...focus of sorts," Cate said simply, holding it out for Elain. Elain regarded the crystal ball with a mixture of caution and curiosity. She slowly reached out and took it.

Nothing happened.

"Just like I thought," Cate said drily. "You aren't a seer. You are an oracle."

"What's the difference?" Nesta asked, unable to keep the sharpness out of her voice.

"A seer has the ability to control their power to some degree," Cate explained, her gaze still fixed on Elain. "They are able to see into the future...and if you have a guide, a focus like a crystal ball, a seer can flip through all the different possibilities."

"An oracle, on the other hand..it's a power given by the mother herself. They see what the mother wills and when. They have no control what they see, no way of interpreting them. It just comes to them in flashes, with no context or explanation." 

Mor's eyes widened as she listened to Cate's words. An oracle? That didn't sound...good. 

Oracles, like Cate said, had no control over their powers. They never knew what they would see or when. It sounded like a living nightmare.

And poor Elain...she had no idea what had just been dropped on her lap.

The crystal ball exploded in Elain's hand.

It happened so fast, that Mor didn't even have a chance to react. One moment, Elain was holding the crystal ball, the next it shattered in an explosion of sparkling pieces.

Feyre squeaked, Mor froze..it was a wave of Cate's magic that enveloped Elain, that kept her safe as the crystal ball shattered in her hand. 

As the shards of the crystal ball rained down, Cate's magic enveloped Elain like a shimmering shield. The pieces bounced harmlessly against it, falling uselessly to the ground.

There was a breathless moment of silence, as everyone stood frozen, processing what had just happened

Mor knew that this was just a small taste of Cate's vast magical reservoir...a small stream coming from an ocean.

Mor watched as the magic around Elain slowly faded, disappearing like steam on a window.

Cate's expression was unbothered, her voice steady as she said, "As I said. An oracle."

"So I have no control?" Elain asked, her voice small. "'Il always be at the mercy of these...these visions?"

Cate's expression softened, her voice gentle as she replied. "In a way, yes. The visions will come to you, whether you want them to or not. But with proper guidance...it doesn't have to be overwhelming. I can teach you how to deal with the power, to not let it consume you."

Elain looked at Cate, a spark of hope in her eyes. "You can?" she asked, her voice tremulous.

Cate gave a small nod. "Yes," she said. "It won't be easy, and it will take time and practice. But I can help you learn to control the power, rather than letting the power control you."

Mor watched the exchange, her heart thudding in her chest. Cate's words sparked a flicker of hope within her, a hope that perhaps Elain might not be cursed to live a life of constant visions.

But at the same time, she couldn't shake the feeling that having Cate around for extended periods of time would be... troublesome, to put it mildly.

Cate's presence in Velaris would undoubtedly stir up many emotions, especially among the Inner Circle members. And the thought of having to deal with her witty remarks and sarcastic comments on a daily basis was enough to make Mor's headache worsen.

"Out of pure interest, who told you she was a Seer?" Cate wondered

"Azriel did," Elain answered softly. "I thought I was going insane."

Cate's gaze sharpened, her lips curving into a small smirk. "Oh, Azriel did, huh? Seems like | will need to give Azriel a primer in magical abilities once more."

Mor's eyebrows rose at Cate's tone. It was almost….playful. And the thought of her playfully mocking Azriel, poking at the shadowsinger to rile him up was...

"You know him?" Elain wondered, her gaze suddenly starting to take in the bite marks all over her neck and shoulder. Mor watched her swallow as she took that in. 

Cate chuckled, her eyes sparkling. "Oh, very well," she said, her voice laced with mirth. "We've been...acquainted for quite some time now. I do understand how he came up with it, he has seen me have visions more than once. But he's never been good with understanding the nuances of power," Cate added, her voice dropping into a mocking octave as she imitated Azriel's deep voice. "Sees the shadows, misses everything else."

Mor found herself smirking, unable to help herself. The idea of Cate being able to get under Azriel's skin so effortlessly, to tease him so effortlessly...it was almost endearing, in a twisted way.

There was something about Cate, in that moment, that was so very...genuine. Her eyes sparkled with mischief, her lips curved up in a small smirk. She was utterly unguarded, with no hint of pretence or artifice in her

Mor cursed herself internally, annoyed at how quickly she had been distracted by the other female. She despised Cate, and yet...there was something about her presence, her behaviour, that was captivating.

Mor forced herself to focus, to steer her thoughts in a different direction. She couldn't afford to let herself be distracted by Cate's mercurial nature, not now. There were more important matters to attend to, like the fact that Elain was an oracle.

She looked over at Elain, who still looked worried and overwhelmed by the revelation. She felt a pang of sympathy for the young fae. To suddenly have this power thrust upon her, to be told that she would have no control over it...it had to be a terrifying prospect.

"You are in good hands now," Cate promised Elain easily. "We'll get a handle on it...'ll find you some books to read."

There was a hint of softness in her tone, a flicker of concern in her gaze. It was a side of Cate that Mor hadn't seen before, one that contrasted sharply with her usual sarcastic and standoffish nature.

Elain smiled weakly, her shoulders slumping in relief.

“Thank you," she said softly.

Cate gave a small nod, her expression gentling. "Of course," she said, her voice gruff yet sincere.

Mor felt a pang of irritation as Cate's gaze landed on her, her expression shuttering back into its usual cold mask.

She swallowed back a biting response, not in the mood to start another argument.

But even as she forced herself to remain quiet, Mor couldn't help but feel a spark of defiance. She would not let Cate get the better of her.

Cate's gaze bore into hers, a silent challenge passing between them. Mor met it head-on, refusing to look away. Neither of them spoke, the air around them thick with tension and suppressed energy.

Finally, Cate's lips quirked up in a small smirk, as though amused by the tension she had caused. “You know,” she drawled. “If you keep staring at me, Morrigan, people might think you like me.”

Mor’s eyes narrowed, her irritation flaring. “And if you keep opening your mouth, people might think you’re intelligent,” she retorted, her voice dripping with sarcasm.”

Cate's smirk grew, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Oh, come on. Don't pretend you don't enjoy our little verbal spars. It's the highlight of your day, I'm sure."

"The highlight of my day is when you're not in my presence," Mor snapped, her temper fraying. "Believe me, I could go without seeing your face...or the evidence of your animalistic couplings." 

"Ouch," Cate said, feigning a wince. "That one stung. I didn't realise you were so jealous of my...activities. By the way, mostly it's Azriel telling me how perfect I am," Cate shot back easily. Elain looked like she would rather be anywhere else, while Nesta bit back a laugh. 

Mor's jaw dropped, her mind struggling to process what she'd just heard. Cate, with the arrogance and audacity to claim that people... that Azriel found her 'perfect'. It was utterly ridiculous.

But as she stared at Cate, seeing the cool, almost amused expression on the other woman's face...she couldn't help but wonder if it was true.

"If you hurt him..." she whispered, threatening...for one moment Cate's aura blew wide open. Green magic sparked at the very tips of her fingers.

Mor's heart seized in her chest, her breath catching in her throat as Cate's magic burst free. It crackled in the air, a low hum that sent a shiver down her spine.

For a moment, Cate's expression dropped completely, replaced by something dark and dangerous. Her eyes glowed almost unnaturally, and her magic swirled around her like a living thing.

But then, as quickly as it had come, it was gone. Cate's expression smoothed back into its usual cool indifference, and her magic retracted back into her skin.

"Don't forget who spent 500 years hurting him," Cate said quietly. "It wasn't me, Morrigan."

Mor's hands clenched into fists, her nails digging into her palms. She wanted to snap back, to deny Cate's words, out she knew there was no point.

Cate was right. Mor had hurt Azriel. Deeply, irreparably.

And there was no way she could deny it.

"Do not threaten me for something you have done," Cate said quietly. "I have never laid a hand on Azriel in any way that he didn't want me to."

Mor swallowed hard, her heart thudding in her chest.

Cate's words struck her to her very core.

She knew it was true. Cate had shown Azriel more kindness, more compassion than she had in centuries.

And yet, a part of her couldn't help but feel resentful.

Resentful at the way Cate had so easily inserted herself into Azriel's life, replacing Mor in a way she hadn't been able to.

"I'll send you that book list," Cate said calmly.

Mor nodded stiffly, not trusting herself to speak. Her throat felt tight, her body tense from the onslaught of emotions she had experienced in the last few minutes.

She watched as Cate gave Elain a reassuring pat on the arm, her gaze flicking briefly to Mor before she turned to leave.

And in that moment, as Cate walked away, Mor was struck by a sudden wave of realisation. Cate was not simply a friend, or a sexual partner, or a convenient outlet for Azriel's anger and tension.

No...there was something more between them. Something that Mor had failed to see in all her years of knowing Azriel. Something that was now glaringly obvious in the other woman's presence.

And it scared her. It scared Mor more than any battle, any enemy, ever had.

[queerfables]

'Wilson' as an episode fucking slaps. I'm obsessed with Wilson's complete lack of boundaries and I'm obsessed with the way he acts out to express resentment while still being completely incapable of saying no. He gave a patient part of his liver!! The man is in no way hinged.

For all the emphasis that gets placed on Wilson's failed marriages and infidelity, we don't ever actually see it directly on screen. This is a narrative choice I love, for the record. We see Wilson's relationships through House's eyes and it allows us to understand Wilson as a deeply flawed person without ever making him unlikable, because Wilson's flaws and contradictions are what make him irresistible to House. It's so effective, the way these failed relationships say so much about Wilson's character while being constructed largely out of inference.

In this episode, though, we watch his inability to self advocate play out in real time, and I guarantee that this is what every one of his relationship meltdowns looked like from the inside. On some deep fundamental level, James Wilson doesn't believe "I don't want to" is a valid reason not to do something. You know the fantasy trope of an obedience curse, where the victim is inescapably compelled to obey other people's requests? Wilson casts that spell on his own damn self, and he'll hold true to it even to the point of violating his own bodily autonomy. When you lack boundaries like that, it becomes almost impossible to even know what you truly want, let alone to act on it. So Wilson says yes and yes and yes until it breaks him, and then he still can't say no.

When saying yes feels like surrendering to torture and saying no feels like committing murder, the only option left is escape. So Wilson goes out drinking to trash the liver he's going to donate. He gets dinner with the pretty nurse instead of going home to his wife. All of it is him scrabbling at the bars of his cage. And the irony is that the cage is unlocked, he just has to walk through the open door, and that's the last thing he could ever bring himself to do.

I'm pretty sure that when he went to Cuddy and told her his plan to donate, he wanted her to say no. She almost did! And I think she should have, because her first impulse was right, it is insane. Unfortunately this is the Insane Lack of Boundaries Hospital, and she can't actually be expected to guess when her employee's mouth is saying yes but his eyes are saying dear god no. By the rules of universe that House MD operates within, this doesn't even break a 7 on the "unhinged measures to save a patient" scale, and Wilson invoked the power of friendship. What was she supposed to do?

And through all of this, House is the person Wilson lashes out at. I love, love, love that House is the person Wilson lashes out at. Wilson can't even admit to himself that he's angry about the position he's in. How can he be angry when he's the reason the patient needs a new liver? But House sees right to the heart of everything going on with him, and he says all the things Wilson wants to be true and can't afford to believe. Because if he lets himself believe this wasn't his fault then he might not be able to say yes. And he's going to say yes. And he hates that he's going to say yes. And he hates that House knows he's going to say yes.

So he gets angry with House, because it's safe to get angry with House. He lashes out, because with House, he can. He tells House he's wrong about him, and demands House move out, and that's not at all what he really wants but he feels helpless and coerced and he desperately needs to exercise some kind of control over his own life. The fact that he can let go like this with House is in part about knowing House isn't ever going to leave him - the closeness of their relationship is always defined by what Wilson wants, House has never once pushed Wilson away and fights to reconcile when Wilson wants distance. But it's also about knowing that he can't hurt House by setting boundaries with him. Mostly this is because House will walk right over any boundaries he considers unacceptable, but in fairness, the fact that House is kind of a terrible person is part of his appeal. If Wilson had issues around other people violating his stated wishes, House would be the last person in the world that he should have anything to do with. But Wilson's issues lie in the fear that not being compulsively available and accommodating to everyone around him might permanently fuck up the life of someone he loves. House's fucked up life is never going to be Wilson's fault and even if it was House would still kind of deserve it, so Wilson's anxious people pleasing compulsion can chill the fuck out for five minutes at a time.

I don't want to idealise, there are times in their relationship when Wilson absolutely makes fucked up sacrifices for House. I don't think it's the case that he earnestly wanted to every time. But it's also true that House brings out authenticity in Wilson that few other people manage to. House knows him. House allows him to give in to his selfish impulses without guilt and consequences, and for all the people who love the best in him, House knows and loves his worst. While Wilson is caught up in trying to bend himself into whatever shape someone else needs him to be, what House wants more than anything is the truth. For Wilson, who is so out of touch with his own desires, being an object of fascination to someone obsessed with drives and motivations must be a rush. And if we accept the throughline of this episode, it might just be the case that House's boundary pushing and obsession is something Wilson needs.

[vaguely-concerned]

it probably says something either sad or deeply unfortunate about me as a person, but I'm darkly amused to see some people react to the reveal of the ultimate permeability of souls in tlt as a triumphant thing -- the "you can't take 'loved' away!!!" side of it all -- when my first reaction was such an immediate wave of 'oh, oh so this is why this series is horror, I truly understand now' distress haha. ngl the final confirmation of the self not being inviolable in the deepest way freaks me the fuck out far more than any moment of body horror in the series has managed. (these two elements are of course the two sides of one thematic coin; it's about the horror of our bodies and minds and selves not being inviolable things, and about the effect of violence on them on so many different levels. violence psychological and interpersonal, physical, subtextually sexual, emotional, medical, political, a whole unlovely smörgåsbord of indignity and violation a person can be exposed to, and on a broader scale the spectrum of violence colonialism wields). The world and other people being capable of leaving indelible marks on us for good or ill through their presence in our lives is of course a pretty self-evident demonstrable truth in the real world, but somehow having it be proven metaphysically just uh. Fucks me up! 

It also drives home to me just how perfectly Muir has captured the dilemma at the heart of human connection and intimacy: the fact that the thing that gives us life and meaning is also capable of harming us so deeply. the same thing that can be so beautiful — even in a bittersweet, violently transformative form like with the creation of Paul — when done mutually and consensually and compassionately, is the same process that means someone like John can touch someone else's soul and 'after he's put his fingers on something, you'll never find anyone else's fingerprints on it; too much noise'. I think the text itself — the whole series, because to me this is what it is ultimately about, this tension between individuation/self vs. love/connection/enmeshment — is far more ambivalent in its treatment of it than saying it’s inherently a good thing or inherently a bad thing. The only thing it says for sure is that it is always a thing, that thinking you’re ever getting away from it is the height of futility, and that through being alive (or even through being dead lol) it is something you have to engage with in some way no matter what. Contact with other people is deeply necessary — without it we sicken and die. it can be the most beautiful and meaningful thing in a human life, and the most unspeakably horrific. All of these people are searching for some way to be whole, whether in total self-contained sufficiency on their own or in melding with someone else as their ‘other half’, and stumbling around in the dark they reach for each other and score deep wounds into the thing they’re trying to touch even when they don’t mean to. Taken to horrific extremes with the form of lyctorhood John guided his disciples to when they were ‘children — playing in the reflections of stars in a pool of water, thinking it was space’, because while people hurt each other all the time with differing levels of intentionality behind it, what John did was deliberate. It weaponizes the misapprehension of what closeness must be and destroys everyone involved in the process… and all because it leaves John the one sun their ruined lives have left to orbit around, because that’s the closest thing his soul will allow to connection. He doesn’t understand that to truly touch something you have to truly let it touch you back, and then wonders why he’s never satisfied.   

‘The horrors of love’ has been memed to death, I know, but… yeah. That is what it is, isn’t it.

[goldengirliez]

oml, please help me, I can't stop thinking about giving head to Manila Mikey.

Idea from this drabble! ☆

02:53 pm

We all know how Mikey is, deep inside that apathetic shell of his, his empty heart and dull eyes, he's aching uncontrollably to feel anything aside from that void that consumes his senseless.

He gets so overwhelmed that he often forgets to eat, shower, and take care of himself with basic actions.

But he has you. His beloved, his light in the darkness, his anchor during the storm that keeps him grounded.

Even on days when intrusive thoughts caress his skin alluringly, you're there to keep them away from your man, you're there and keep him alive.

Just like today.

It's a hot, clammy day: no matter how many windows you may want to open, the air won't just come in to cool down your dripping skin, the oppressive weather creeps through your lungs and violates them, taking away the oxygen you need way too soon.

You're hot, you are bored and you're tired of waiting for your boyfriend to get out of the shower so you can get it all for yourself.

Your bare feet tap softly against the floor, quickly moving towards the bathroom where you left your beloved around thirty minutes ago, ready to scold him for taking so long.

You put your hand on the golden, rusty doorknob and turn it silently. Pushing the wooden panel open with a small "creak" sound, the humidity of the post-shower air invades your senses, inserting in between the fabric of your soft garments and dampening your skin even so slightly.

Your eyes immediately fall on the figure in front of you, seated on the glossy, black stool next to the sink.

Mikey's head is dropped low, his wet liquorice hair is covering his pale, porcelain skin: his onyx eyes are slightly visible to you and they are surely lost in nothingness. He's sitting still, not moving a muscle as if he didn't even notice you enter before.

You're not going to scold that poor angel for a fucking shower: you're going to scold yourself for not taking it with him. He often gets lost in thoughts and that's not a good sign at all.

"'jiro, what's wrong?"

You carefully step closer to him, crouching down to his level and cradling his fluffy cheeks in your hands: slowly blinking his eyes, as if was slowly waking up from a peaceful dream, he looks up at you desperately.

"Please, make them shut the fuck up".

Often the best way to silence your thoughts is to focus on something louder than the voices inside your head.

That's what Mikey needs right now.

Usually, he would let you suck him off to your heart's content but that's not what he needs right now: he needs to feel loved, cared about and seen. He needs to know he's there with you and not anywhere else lost in his mind.

You can feel the hardness of the cold tiles underneath your knees as you kneel in front of him, which is in contrast with the hotness of that cute, pinkish mushroom head of his shaft and the smoothness of his skin in your palm.

Manjiro's eyes are focused on you, just like you asked him to: they are completely blown out, his angelic face has a cherry red hue on his cheeks, and his lips are slightly puffy due to his constant biting in them.

When your tongue gently wraps around the tip and sucks on it harshly, squeezing with your hand the base of his dick (just how he likes it) his onyx irises roll in the back of his skull and his hand goes straight to his mouth, muffling with a hum one of his pretty moans.

Just when you take him deeper, your ears are blessed with his unfiltered voice, a desperate call of your name: you can feel his hardness make its way down your throat gradually, and the salty taste of his pre on your taste buds makes you salivate.

Just when his cock touches the back of your throat your eyes water and not because of the burning sensation or the ache of your jaw but because of his goddamn pretty face.

Manjiro's wet liquorice hair is sticking to his damp forehead due to the water of the shower he took; onyx orbs are staring deeply into your soul, flickering up and down your face not knowing where to focus; sweat is dripping down his defined jaw and sliding on his bobbing adam apple every time he gulps; his black undershirt is sticking to his string chest; his tattooed neck is stretched to the side as he can barely keep his head up due to how good you're making him feel.

He's a masterpiece and he's all yours.

"Baby... Y-You're taking it so fucking deep– oh fuck!"

It wouldn't take long for you to bob your head according to his liking when his calloused hand touches your cheek and smoothly runs up through your hair, gripping it slightly so it won't cover your eyes.

The burn in your throat might be becoming unbearable but having your man scream your name endlessly is what keeps you up: his whole attention is on you, you're the only one he's thinking about, you're the only one he's feeling.

You can feel him throb against the walls of your mouth, his veins pulsating underneath your skilled tongue: you take him out with a slurping sound and begin to fist his cock, squeezing the tip and gripping the base, fiddling with his balls, wanting to coo at him as a last push. Your sugar-coated sweet-nothings are the most sincere as you look into his eyes with heart-shaped ones almost: good boy, I love you, baby, this is all for you.

After a dark time that day, he's finally seeing stars.

Mikey's orbs shine with the tears that roll down his burning cheeks, his voice is desperate and whiny, unable to keep up with the pace you're setting just for him.

Wet, squelching sounds that echo through his ears along with your praises are like a melody and when his hand comes on top of yours as you keep on moving it fast, you know you've done the trick.

"Ah– oh, shit! B-baby, I- I'm- I- please".

As you kiss lovingly his inner thigh which is decorated with every shade of red because of the blooming love marks you gave him, he feels a shock of electricity run down his spine.

As a blissed cry of your name booms out of his chest, his eyes scrunch shut and his head gets thrown back, you're already there to put your mouth on his throbbing tip and keep his love seed into your mouth, safe and sound.

He takes a while to calm down, but when he does he doesn't hesitate to get you on his lap and hug you close, whispering with a heavy breath how much he loves you, how grateful he is for having you by his side and an endless string of thank you.

You're both dripping in sweat, fuming due to the heated act you had so the sudden thin, delicate breeze that comes in from the bathroom door makes you sigh contently.

Manjiro's the one to speak first "I guess we need to shower again", he chuckles... His genuine laugh makes your lips curl into a fond smile as you take his hand in yours and kiss his knuckles gently.

"I'll do it with you so I'll keep the bad thoughts away this time".

He loved the sound of that.

I'm experimenting with new kinds of writing so I don't know how I feel about this drabble: it was simply living in my head rent-free–

I hope you enjoyed reading this drabble!

English isn't my first language so I apologise for any mistakes!

Sending y'all hugs. ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ꒰ঌ ♡ ໒꒱ ⊹ ࣪ ˖

©GOLDENGIRLIEZ do not repost or modify on any platform.

[the-goya-jerker]

do you have any thoughts on nine inch nails/their song “closer” and the music video for it?

to preface: i am autistic and nine inch nails is a special interest for me. “closer” has a deeper meaning than “the sex song” and is part of a big concept album, and i genuinely think trent reznor is a great artist & director, but people brush off his music/videos because it’s “just” sexual or controversially erotic. well, like klimt or whoever said, all art is erotic!! everything has value no matter what part of your brain it is appealing to. the-goya-jerker dot tumblr dot com i think you are the only guy who actually understands this. you dont have to agree with me i just respect how you view art from the perspective of a nine inch nails fan

Thank you for bringing your special interest to me, dear stranger. I am a king, presented a beautiful gift on a velvet cushion. A princess being given the dearest of unicorn foals to nurture here.

I never knew that The Downward Spiral was a concept album. (My music knowledge tends to be broad and shallow over narrow and deep, y'know?). I knew a few songs (The Only Time is a personal fave) but I didn't know much about the band.

So, just as an overview of the album it's about the narrator's titular downward spiral. Wikipedia lists the themes as: "religion, dehumanization, violence, disease, society, drugs, sex, and finally, suicide."

Just looking at Closer, it's not hard to see why people think of it as a "sex song", honestly. But much like a lot of popular art, I encourage the audience to really listen to the lyrics here, to examine it in a different way.

The backing track (hiiii Iggy Pop! Iggy Pop cameo here!!) has a strong rhythm. The breathy vocals add to the sexual feeling of the song. The lyrics are, on a surface level, talking about sex. But there's some pretty loaded language included. The narrator doesn't just use your typical words like making love or fucking. He "desecrates" he "violates" he "uses". The use of the phrase "I wanna fuck you like an animal" isn't about the intensity, it's about self-degradation.

I think a pretty fair general interpretation (and do come correct me if you think otherwise anon!) is that the narrator wants to escape himself, his flaws, his self loathing, by having sex with people. He wants to be someone else.

This isn't a song about just having sex, this is a song about hating yourself so much that sex feels like it must be degrading for the other person just because it's with you.

There's also some things going on with religion and sexuality here. Sex is a desecration of the partner, it is making them worse, it is using them. But also there's this desperate devotion to this person. The way he says "You make me perfect / Help me become somebody else", the constant pleas for help dispersed throughout, even the section where he offers up himself entirely... it feels like borderline religious devotion. But this contrasts against the desecration in a way that's very fascinating to me.

As a review? I give this a 9/10. It's erotic, but not in the way most people assume. The devotion and degradation as constant themes really sell it. The religious themes add to it wonderfully. And I love to hear a man beg.

The only reason it's not 10/10 is because I know Closer to God (the reworking of this track) gets that honor. I think it just elevates the track even more when the two are presented side by side, and for me Closer to God wins out. The more staticky track is really right up my alley (I enjoy the more industrial and distorted sound of it).

In the end though, both feel transcendentally erotic in their own way.

The songs in question for anyone who wants them:

[homestuckreplay]

Favorite Homestuck Character: 27th US President William Howard Taft

(page 556-566)

8/29/2009 Wheel Spin: Dramatic Irony Verdict: Puns, The Lower Form Of Humor

8/31/2009 Wheel Spin: Parent Bad :( Verdict: Brother Truly Awful And Horrendous

We begin these pages with John, followed by a quick cut to Dave. Both of them navigating the dangers of their home and the possibility of being watched, but in very different ways.

The Colonel Sassacre and Bathtub level ups are clearly just a setup for puns, so I’m not gonna read too much into the idea that everything can level up (yet). But Colonel Sassacre gained 9550 boondollars from his level, so he must be pretty far up the echeladder compared to the bathtub (490) and John’s meager 200. Sassacre’s new level is ONE MAN JULEP VACUUM. A julep is a chilled cocktail, today usually made with mint, bourbon and crushed ice, although historically used rose petals and was prescribed for health. In 1939, the mint julep became the official drink of the Kentucky Derby after being drunk there probably since its inception. For the ‘genteel, aristocratic southern colonel’ hoovering up a large number of juleps at the derby must be a sign of social status. A high achievement indeed.

Meanwhile, the bathtub’s levels are both references to apocryphal bathtub-related stories. ARCHIMEDED was the ancient Greek mathematician who got into the bathtub and realized that placing an object into a liquid would displace that volume of that liquid (and could therefore determine what metal an object was made from, via the relationship between weight, volume and density) and ran naked through the streets yelling “eureka!” So, his AQUACRADLE is the watery crib that nourished and inspired him. Meanwhile, William TAFT was the US President famous for being the heaviest person in office, who was believed to have gotten stuck, or JAMMED, in the White House bathtub. Although both of these stories are probably false, they’re famous and they’re fun references.

Finally, VAULTHALLA is a pun on Valhalla, the hall of slain warriors in Norse mythology. It’s horrific as a pun (complimentary) but I do think p.558 is the best looking page in all of Homestuck so far. The jewel tones streaked to create the sunset and the sea, the way the boat bobs on the waves and the fire flickers and is reflected in the water is way more beautiful than it needs to be to carry the pun.

LAD SCRAMBLE (p.560) is John’s equivalent of YOUTH ROLL (p.379) in terms of being acrobatic feats attempted and failed by these characters. Can’t wait for Dave’s Dude Scoot and GG’s Kid Tumble. But I am really glad this happened to our boy on the lowest flight and not miles above the house. The code violations on Rose’s building are scarier to me than the absolutely MASSIVE imp that shows up afterwards.

As predicted, this is the rook. It has a better moveset than the imps and is worth about five of them power-wise which is absolutely more than John can handle. The learning curve of Sburb continues to be really steep. I wonder if all the enemies are literally climbing up from below? It makes sense given that they’re part of the forces of darkness, and it sets the game up as a giant chase using architecture, where – at a certain point – just out-climbing the smaller enemies might be more effective than killing them, and only the higher level enemies will even reach the players.

Returning to Dave after a hundred pages away from him is like stepping from the normal world into the first layer of endless puppet hell. His mind is a complex and terrible place, but he – or the narrator – is getting closer to admitting some things. He feels ‘pangs of jealousy’ about his bro’s turntable gear and there’s a mention of getting worked up, and he acknowledges that his bro’s comic ‘get[s] under [his] skin’ and that he thinks it’s ‘just a little TOO ironic.’ He is also aware that ‘trouble’s a-brewin’ due to a missing sword. This feels like somebody getting sucked in too deep to a subculture that’s fine in moderation, but then somebody takes it way too far to the point that it’s harmful – but by then it’s too late to get out, especially when that somebody lives with you, has power over you and presents themself as an authority.

Today I learned that ‘Animal’ is the actual name of a Muppets character (along with Rowlf). This comic is of course puppet themed – Bro does not have a diversity of interests – being tormented by Jigsaw from the movie Saw, which I will watch soon. The art style is different to Sweet Bro & Hella Jeff, less pixelated and artifacted with some hand lettering instead of Comic Sans, darker in both tone and color palette. I’m sure this is post-post-post-post-ironic to some people but to me this is just every ‘what if we took a children’s story… and made it Fucked Up’ post that has been made on the internet in the last decade.

There’s also near-confirmation that Bro is hiding close by and messing with Dave’s mind via sylladex. On p.563, there’s a flash of the sword on the wall being captchalogued, and on p.564, the flash of Lil Cal being de-captchalogued – both from back towards the couch area if my mental picture of the room is right. Out of every character we’ve met so far, Dave’s bro is the one without a single redeeming quality; every new fact or insinuation draws him as an even worse guy.

[comfortless]

may i please ask for your thoughts on each könig skin ^^

sure thing!

default: beautiful, 10000/10, the only one that i ever really use (if i feel like suffering through this awful game). rare for cod to come out with an operator that does not look like a lazily stitched version of three other characters but König…. there is so much detail from the makeshift hood right down to the intentionally missed belt loop. the abundance of gear and the fact that none of the colors clash in a way that isn’t appealing! the hood is such a nice touch, too… obviously stitched together by his own hands.

i can only imagine the frustration he must have felt trying to hand-stitch around the eye holes when every needle probably seemed far too small for him to use. ;; did he even think to use a thimble? probably not…

anonymous, blood soaked, and praetorian are more or less the same apart from a few small details. i love the camos on him and how praetorian just lacks the tear-streaks entirely. also, that name? insinuating that he’s a commander of some sort… <3

tricks & violator: where are the scare actor König thoughts for these specifically. he was born to be shoved in a corn maze or a house decked out in fake blood and limbs. they are not scary but… give him some credit for making the hood for the first himself! what did he use..? an old halloween t-shirt? fabric paint? it’s perfect.

grouping antibody and biohazard together, because my thoughts are the same: underwhelming… but it’s him..! they both get a pass.

expedition: this is the cutest skin in the entirety of the game. including everyone else’s. the silly bucket hat. the hood still on beneath the net. the gloves? he looks like he can not decide whether he’s planning for a trip to find some long-forgotten temple in the jungle, a solo fishing trip, or tending to a pretty garden.

desidia: every time i see this one i am reminded of @wordsbyvani’s moss person König thoughts. some benevolent higher power will one day bless you all with the lovely secret knowledge that she bestows me with.

arachnid: barking pawing howling whining sulking shaking like 🥛 that is all.

deep lord: see above. but also… you know marine horror is such a lovely genre to explore. coupled with the additions to this skin i think someone could put something perfect together with this in mind!

the wolf: the company of wolves… red riding hood… any werewolf movie ever… constantly associating him with anything big and canine after seeing this one. it is SO silly but i like to think that maybe… there are further hints about him/his personality in the little details of each skin (i am on the floor begging for crumbs).

ghillie monster: i have to be honest with you all this one is just not… for syl. most of his skins at least still resemble him in some capacity, but his gear makes even his body look different here! shelved for eternity i will never touch this.

sinister: i think you all can probably already guess my thoughts!! if not… sorry. i will not share them here.

vapor: i do not play cod mobile and this one is not enough to bring me to that level of suffering.

also!! i both love and hate this ask because i had to stop myself at each one to not… fall into writing some silly blurb or adding several things to my ever growing wip list… BUT i do think it would be fun to toy around with using his other skins in mind when writing him! ^^ much to think about….

[slickchickchocolatier]

hi hi! i hope ur doing well, i dropped by here to ask if you can write a drabble where like a rare event happened and heelel went to the mortal world to like idk have fun go to theme parks and sum and then he spots like a woman who looks like realena but not entirely. He sees her from like her behind or her back and comes up 2 her and flirts w/ her but her bf is like there like 🤨 and thats all my brain let me produce, i would LOVE for u to write abt this, ily stay safe and keep healthy eat ur meals! ♡♡♡♡♡♡

”Like a Sore Thumb.”

This one has two versions of y/n. One on earth that resembles the y/n that Devil!HS is in love with. This is not canon.

Warnings: shameless flirting, deceiving, mentions of non-con acts, yandere theme, mentions/implications of non-con acts used as a form of punishment and or to express love, mentions of forced breeding, creampie (implied), human rights violation, reader is kept against her will, imprisonment. MDNI 18+.

What an exciting day it was for you and your boyfriend! The new theme park had just opened, and the day couldn’t be any more lovely for the occasion, which is why you adorned his favorite sun dress, paired with tastefully subtle heeled shoes. You bloomed like the flowers of spring.

“We should go check out the Ferris wheel after we get a cotton candy ball.”

You were eager to taste the massive fluff of cotton candy, as evident by your prolonged stare at the food vendor that served it. “Let’s go stand in line then.” Your boyfriend mentions, jovially taking you by the hand in seeing your smile. You both wait in line, it was so long, but you knew it would be worth the wait. The temperature grew hotter, and you both started to feel thirsty. “Do you mind standing in line while I get us some waters?” He mentions, and you shook your head as you pull him in to kiss his cheek. “Not at all. I’ll be here.”

He delicately shakes your hand before heading off, and as you promised, you wait in line. It felt as if the line was barely moving, what with the vendor taking time to create each cotton candy stick, you knew that it would be a while before you’d get to the front. But no matter. This was part of the experience, so you continued to wait, picking your nails as you stood motionless.

…………………

“What a pretty flower.”

you heard a deep voice emerge from behind, and furrowed your brows together in confusion. Did someone just call you a flower? for a split second, you thought it was your boyfriend being sneaky, yet the very moment you turned halfway, you come face to face with a dashing figure. The man was tall, had dark hair, and was dressed all in black. It was strange, he looked so poised and clean, as if the heat was not affecting him, despite wearing trousers, a button up with a black trench coat. His hair was somewhat smoothed over to the side, partially revealing his forehead; and his face…it was devilishly handsome. Too handsome in fact.

he just stood there, smirking at you. You felt the blood rush through to your cheeks as the heat of blush takes over. God, you hope he didn’t notice.

“I-I’m sorry? Were you speaking to me?” You soundlessly spoke, almost too scared to say anything really, the man’s looks was more than just attractive, it was intimidating.

“oh yeah.”

his response was simple and yet, it caused your heartbeat to rise. “Oh yeah”?? What sort of answer is that? You couldn’t help but become more curious about the man who continued to stare down at you.

“I’m sorry…do I know you?” You were confused by his behavior, despite him being the most handsome man you’ve ever laid eyes on, you had a feeling in your gut that proposed a level of uneasiness as the man continued to scan your face with his eyes, looking as if he had seen you before.

“no.”

You internally huffed at his naught response. Clearly he didn’t care to elaborate, which sent signals that the man may have been a creep. Nonetheless, you did your best to be polite and to shoo him away. God only knows you didn’t want to make him mad, because even though he was handsome, there was a glint of subtleness in the form of chaos and malice in his eye.

“oh I’m sorry. I have to meet with my boyfriend, please excuse me.”

“Try harder.”

“excuse me?”

He chuckles aloud, revealing a toothy grin. You had to admit, it only made him more attractive to see a dashing smile to go with his aura. He speaks lowly, in a very deep tone, one that nearly made you collapse.

“I said try harder.” He takes a pause to bite down on his lip, furthering that uneasy ball that was forming inside. “That lie about meeting with your boyfriend, it ain’t it. If you really wanna lie to get your way out of things, you need to…” leaning in, he raises a hand and gently pinches your strands in between his fingers. Rubbing them softly together, he takes in the softness before looking back into your eyes, deeply…closely…and intimately. Whispering, he finishes his remark, his breath grazing your skin. “Try harder.”

you couldn’t think, breathe, or speak. You stood there nearly zoned out in his gaze. He spoke out once more, snapping you out of it. “Go ahead, try. I’m giving you a second chance….pretty.”

you gulped as you took him up on his offer. “I’m not interested…sorry.”

smirking once more, he narrows his eyes and whispers “good girl.” His hand drifts over, his finger traces your jawline until it levels at the center of your chin. From there, you felt the cold tip of his index drag downward, along the center of your throat, in between your collar bones, and right down at the center of the faint cleavage exposed from the scoop neck of your dress. It was enough to make your heart stop beating.

“y/n?”

you blink and widen your eyes as you hear your boyfriend from behind the unknown man. You slightly tilt your head to the side and watch as your boyfriend witnesses the man taking in the feel of your skin.

“oh…um..” you stutter, yet was cut off when the man injects his smooth tone, as he turns his face to reveal his side profile. “The boyfriend.”

you watched as your boyfriend stood, rather frozen. It was apparent that he too sensed the intimidating flow of the man’s aura. Not to mention that a faint switch in his gaze caused his rather handsome face to look more frightening than anything. The man turns back to you, and cups your cheek as he bids you farewell, all the while his thumb strokes in side motions, just above your cheekbone.

“Didn’t mean to disturb your date, you just look like someone I know….someone very dear to me. It’s a shame she can’t be here to show you the resemblance….” He sucks the air through his teeth and formulates a “tsk” sound as he finishes his statement…a statement that sent shivers down to your spine. “But she was a bad girl, so I had to lock her up for a while. That’s okay though…you’ll eventually know how to use that face.”

“U-use…my face?”

“mmhmm.” His thumb continues to stroke your cheek, your boyfriend stood uncomfortably and irritated, yet he was uncomfortable to say anything after receiving what looked to be a death glare from the man in black.

“I…I um…I don’t understand.” Confused, you took in his gaze as you broke the awkward silence.

“well…I can show you.” He leans his face closer…too close. You winced your eyes shut before feeling his breath coat your lips as he spoke. “Tell me….what you want, preeeeeeetty…”

you flutter your lids as you re-open your eyes. “Umm….I don’t know…”

“yeeeees you do….tell me what you want.”

“Um…well…” You peer your gaze off to the side at the cotton candy truck. His chuckle instantly caused you to look back at him, when out of nowhere he raises his other hand. In between his cold fingers, was a long stick with a giant ball of cotton candy, in the flavor you wanted to order.

“h-how—“

“Learn how to use your face.” He smiles as he presents the cotton candy to you. As soon as you took it out of his hand, he peers off to your side, taking a grab on your upper arm and squeezes as he passes through. The very second he was no longer in your sight, you turned to reach out, yet….

“where did he go?….he…he was just here….”

your boyfriend was also flabbergasted as the man disappeared in a blink of an eye. He walks over to you and hands you a bottle of water.

“um…y/n?”

“oh…I’m sorry babe….I…I don’t know who that was but….”

“never mind. Since….I mean now that you have this giant ball of cotton candy….I guess we don’t have to stand in line. Let’s go to the Ferris wheel.”

“okay.”

you both walked off and enjoyed the rest of the day. Throughout your entire visit at the theme park, the man’s words replayed in your head. “Learn to use your face.”

………………………….

The chiming sound of the chains cling together as you remain immobile on the grand bedding. Under the watchful eyes of dual dragons, you lay resting, knowing that you the possibility of you staying locked and chained would be likely. Guess you messed up big time, angering him, all by going against his wishes and continuously begging to go back to the life you once had. For days and days, you tested and pushed his patience out the window as you snapped and yelled, demanding to either be killed or to be released. He stood, not saying anything. Instead, he glared heavily and performed physical acts that left you sore in between your thighs. Who would have thought that out of all the scum you knew on Earth…the Senator, and his shallow followers, it would be the Devil, your own husband, to sexually assault you…all in the name of his insatiable “love” for you. Was it really love? Or was it madness? Or maybe…both.

the way he plunged deep inside, pinning your wrists down on the silk threaded sheets, thrusting, pulling, burying and seeping his essence inside of you as he whispered how much you hurt him with your careless words. He locked, bit, and sucked on every part of you. The marks are still there, they’re everywhere…you looked as if you were recovering from some sort of disease as the coloring scheme of purple, red, and pink adorns your nude body. And his words….the words that replay in your head over and over again….they won’t leave you alone. You could still feel the warm breath of his whispers penetrating your ears….

“don’t ever talk like that….you stay…you will stay…and be here with me….forever. My wife….my queen….I need my queen…I need you so much.”

……..

you shutter as you recall his sickening words were followed by his grunt as he released deep inside your crevice….forever reminding you of the fear you could not escape from…the fear of being forced to carry and birth the offspring of this monster…this demon…the devil.

you begin to sob quietly when you hear the calm footsteps of pure leather shoes meeting the marbled flooring.

“crying?” His voice was calm and smooth. Too smooth. Your body shivers as you hear him approach closer. Why can’t he just let you leave? It had been weeks since he brought you to Hell, and already you were going out of your mind with being stuck, forever under his gaze and nude. He wouldn’t even let you wear anything, always claiming that he wanted to take in everything about you before he drapes fine silk and chiffon on your body.

Your mind snaps back to the reality of the situation as you feel him take a seat by your side on the bed. The dip of the weight causes you to look his way and watch him sit while being finely dressed in black. His trench coat was light, and draped over the side of the bed as he crosses his legs and arms. His back leaned against the golden headboard while his eyes fixate on you.

“please….what am I supposed to do? I…I can’t live like this…..I just want to go..to go home.” You tearfully jut out as you cross your arms to cover your breasts. He tilts his head and peers a narrowed gaze your way with an expectant look.

“didn’t we learn anything the last two days? I guess you need more time to think about your wrongs.”

just as he was about to stand and leave you alone, you reach for him. It didn’t make sense to you, but somehow, even though you despised being here and was upset with his selfishness in keeping you, somehow….you found yourself not wanting to be alone. Perhaps it was from all the numerous punishments; being restrained and kept from contacting anyone for a long period of time really messed with your brain. Somehow, you became dependent on him, yearning for comfort and social interaction as the thought of your stay being prolonged in this glorified prison was too much to bare.

“please! Please! I promise I’ll be good. I don’t want to be alone anymore….please just…anywhere but here….I don’t want this….anything but this…..”

delighted that you had a change of heart and that you were begging for him to stay, the Devil’s heart softens. The one thing that makes him happy, was your love for him….your dependence on him….you yearning to be with him just as much as he wants to be with you. Slowly, you weee getting there.

“did you learn your lesson?”

“yes! Yes!”

“Good girl.” Snapping his fingers, the chains disintegrate and you gain mobility. You look up at him with pleads of mercy in your eyes, and he returns a look of reassurance and satisfaction.

“y-you’re not mad anymore?” You quietly stutter, desperately trying to confirm that he had forgiven you.

Shaking his head, he cradles your waistline and pulls you in. Reaching up, he taps the tip of your nose as he smirks. “Of course not. If you say you’ll be good, I’m going to trust you.”

He eyes you up and down as he takes your hand and forces you to run your fingers through his hair.

“don’t I always tell you? I’ll do anything for you…for that face. All you gotta do is use it.”

[chewingonsneakers]

i have something to say and i’m going to be polite about it. i have seen so many people on tiktok and a few on here saying that if you are cis you are entirely unable to relate to isttvg. i understand what they’re trying to say (at an extreme level), i understand that the movie was a metaphor written specifically for the transgender experience (as i picked up on, and my friend, who is trans, confirmed later). but as a whole, the movie is about repression. i grew up around people who were straight as a line, devoted to a god i didn’t believe in, and they were violent people. i knew something was wrong about me but i didn’t know what. years later i realized i was queer. i buried that shit so deep down inside of me because i knew that if i even tried to explore my sexuality, i could have been violated or even had my life ended. so yeah, i may not be trans, but i relate to this movie still. a lot. i relate to the idea that coming out can kill you inside and you feel like everyone around you is blind to it.

of course, with this, i am not saying that i understand what it feels like to be transgender in that situation, because i don’t and i couldn’t know unless i experienced it myself. but i think explained myself pretty well in why it’s a similar feeling. i talked about all of this with said friend and she agreed with me. she said the movie meant basically the same thing to her, just in a different way.

[sleazysquid]

Would you be willing to write about canon Gyutaro with a piss kink?

I loved how filthy he was in your other fic! So I think it’d be realistic he’d be into this too. What do you think?

Hi!! Hello! Welcome ❤️ I’m super glad you liked my Gyutaro fic! I think specifically canon Gyutaro wouldn’t be opposed to violating/humiliating your body in every way possible. That being said, I think he’s the kind of demon to surprise you with some of his nasty habits and tactics, really going out of his way to put you lower than your place as a common human. We see this mocking/bullying theme resonate pretty heavily when he has the upper hand in the last bits of his fight with Tanjiro.

The Bottom Pit (Gyutaro x Reader)

Word count: 1.1k

Tags/warnings: female reader, noncon, humiliation, piss kink/forced omorashi (f receiving) attic wifery going on here, mild yan theme if you squint, a very mean Gyutaro experience for sure.

Seeing such a pretty human and wanting to finally fulfill every fantasy he’s ever had? He’s definitely not gonna kill you. You wish he did. He puts you more or less on the edge of death and humiliation. Gyutaro prides himself in fulfilling the domination aspect and taking it to the next level in piss play. You’re nothing more than just a little pocket pussy to him, in further progression of your dynamic he’s got you tight locked up somewhere in a special place inside Daki’s main house. Preferably in the attic or a hidden room. There, he’s emptying himself in you, on you, every possible way and in every fluid.

The room is dark and disgusting. It smells to the point where your nose has become numb to the pungent odor. They keep it just tidy enough to deter anyone from becoming suspicious. You’re fed to a minimum and wear very little clothing, all to please and satiate Gyutaro. Most days, you’re covered in an excess of spit and cum. More akin to a shoddy skeet blanket than an actual human.

You’re kidding yourself getting your hopes up in letting you go because lately his scare tactics and perverse creativity have dwindled to just about nothing over the past couple of months. Perhaps he’s satiated to a degree, maybe he’s found somebody new to play with (oh but you wouldn’t technically want that), or maybe he’s just done about everything he’s ever wanted to do. You can tell just from the little twitches in the way he moves when he’s had a bad day. Digesting a human possibly went sour, a fight that was supposed to end ten minutes earlier proved to prolong itself before he ultimately had the upper hand, who’s to say what’s pissed him off but Gyutaro is always sure to tell you at some point during his relief.

Lately there’s a new string of ingenuity that doesn’t seem to end any time soon. The first time it happened, you can crisply recall Gyutaro being hunched over your body, keeping himself as balls deep as long as he possibly can. Really slaving away at the sporadic shivers he sends your body into with every rut of his sharper-than-a-knife poor excuse for hipbones. You’re amping up the moans on this one tonight. Partly because you’re more tired than usual, another part it ends up feeling good in the end—and also, you have to pee. Really, really bad. And he’s not letting up any time soon unfortunately, it’s actually getting ridiculous.

Normally his run time is… quite quick even for human standards. But his stamina and rebound time has everything beat, meaning he can cum multiple times even if it’s to completion within a few minutes. You were really hoping that he’d give you a 3 minute pump and dump so you’d have time to bypass him and make it to the restroom. Fate would not be on your side, as if it ever really is.

Every second that passed by went too slowly. Every distraction, every crack in the ceiling and counting every flower on the wallpaper couldn’t keep you from the grinding thought, the urgent need to get away from him as soon as possible. Yes, he’s seen you at your lowest points and caused most of them, but you’re determined to not let this slip up. At least, that’s your mind doing all the big talk, while your mouth has decided it couldn’t take it anymore.

“G-Gyutaro.”

“What?” A shaky groan and an annoyed glare cuts right through you.

“C-can we stop for just maybe two seconds? I uh, really need to use the bathroom.”

Your request falls on nothing more than deaf ears and an impartial sneer. Gyutaro doesn’t let up, instead he’s jutting against you harder as his sharp nails squeeze into the plush of your thighs. It’s clear that now you’ve annoyed him by asking for one measly accommodation, even after seeing he was more irritated than normal when he approached you earlier. But that doesn’t seem to phase you too much, no, you’re really trying your hardest not to make him even more upset if you pissed on him.

“Gyu…Please..? I really need to go.”

He’s silent, becoming more visibly annoyed as he pays no bother to even look up at you.

“Please… I’d come right back so you can finish, I can’t hold it much longer…” The pressure from your bladder is becoming too much to handle, you’ve spent too much time distracting yourself and pleading with him is doing absolutely nothing. You’re sweating, praying, hoping to god you can hold it until he cums. You’re sticking it out as best as you can, to the point of now becoming deafeningly silent, breaking your fake moaning facade. Until—

Your pelvic floor decides to give in. A sudden feeling of relief followed by immediate anxiety take over your senses, your heart is pounding through your chest with the realization that you just pissed on him. His thrusts come to a full stop as you soil his still shaft, dripping down both of your legs. Gyutaro stares down at your still-pissing cunt. The hands that held you in place are now breaking skin and burrowing themselves into your flesh, he resumes ravaging you. The new scent of piss and sex are nauseating to your head as you lay back and take whatever he gives you.

“You’re a fucking vile little pet, you know that?” He harasses, you give him a taste of his own silent treatment.

“C’mon, say it. Couldn’t even go before I got home, I even warned you today that I just wanted a good fuck, don’t you remember anything?”

You don’t remember, he never said anything to you, and now you feel just as stupid as he tells you.

“Fucking say it. Say you’re disgusting,”

“I’m disgusting-“

“for pissing all over my master’s cock.”

“-For pissing all over my master’s cock..”

A smile contorts, “Good girl.. you’re my good girl.” Gyutaro whines. His stamina, to your dismay, lasts throughout the whole night, unable to even clean yourself off until he permits you to do so. It’s been like that since that night. Inadvertently showing him a new fetish he didn’t know even existed, to degrade you and demean you just a little more than he did in the past. He’s taken the time to give you slightly better care then previously, to his credit. Going out of his way to make sure you’re all filled up on liquids to release all over him. God help you when he ultimately discovers he can degrade you further by making you drink his piss, or maybe something far worse… Who knows what’s yet to come, you’re just holding out and barely scraping by each night anyway. Tomorrow’s struggles are long ahead and not your problem for now.

[thegeminisage]

star trek update time. oops, i'm behind! thursday we did ds9's "the quickening" and voy's "basics part i" and last night we did ds9's "body parts" and "broken link."

the quickening (ds9):

this episode was good, LOVE a good julian ep, i am SO TIRED of assisted suicide plots. can we all CALM DOWN. what happened to terri schiavo was absolutely horrific can we PLEASE stop making star trek episodes about it

okay. that aside. julian and his teddy bear!!! enraged we did not get to see it. love the backstory for him. love this whole thing examining his arrogance but i think there's also a little bit of like. almost like religious faith in the power of modern medicine too there. like he just believes so much that science and medicine can fix these people, fix the jem'hadar. he doesn't want to accept that there are things he can't do and it's not JUST arrogance, like some of it is, but some of it is just pure stubborn refusal to accept suffering at face value. he's a good person. i love him

i was really shocked the episode didn't end with him going back down to the planet after his first failure...like, that would have been an open ending and a sad note to end on (like at no point do you believe he's just gonna fix everything and it'll be fine) but then he totally did cure the babies only. which, good for him. and mister assisted suicide has a new job now

basics part i (voy):

CHAKOTAY'S BABY!!!!!!!!!! god i was hoping it really was chakotay's and sometimes DREAMS DO COME TRUE

furthermore, chakotay held janeway's arm once when they were being jostled. i rewound and watched it twice

i liked chakotay's little...look, i know pretty much everything about his heritage is obviously bullshit, but it's NOT bullshit that the baby was made without consent, even if there was no actual sex involved. there absolutely was a huge violation which happened under traumatic circumstances (getting tortured by his future baby mama). plus, the baby is half cardassian, and the cardassians have done their level fucking best to make life miserable for him & his for YEARS. so i liked his little crisis about it. he so rarely gets depth that isn't just about the absolute criminal portrayal of indigenous culture, so this was nice. i don't know if comparing it to real life rapes done by colonizers was unnecessary bordering on exploitative or accidentally a bold move towards calling colonization what it is (i'm sure there's a huge array of opinions on that one) but the crisis itself was a valid one and i really liked where he came down

THE RETURN OF SUDER! man, tuvok is so cool. i don't think i could hang out with that guy even if i HADN'T turned into a serial killer temporarily after melding with him, but tuvok put his money where his mouth is. he's fucking rehabilitating him

i like also that suder is reformed but not totally changed. it would have been too hard to buy if he wasn't still a little murdery, deep down. and BECAUSE he's still a little murdery, deep down, he and the doc (unmurderable) make perfect companions to retake the ship on their lonesome

speaking of the doc, him randomly getting beamed out into space made absolutely NO sense but it was really funny

anyway, ship landed, which is always bonkers, but i loved the cliffhanger, absolutely cannot WAIT for the rest

body parts (ds9):

was led to believe ahead of time this episode involved a pregnancy...the summary said it was a quark episode...i was like damn, quark gets pregnant?

but actually what happened was so much weirder. i'm not talking about kira and the baby, we'll get to that, i'm talking about QUARK! for the first time in 4 seasons....................quark compelled me. huge HUGE day in the me community

firstly, it was fun that we highlighted his family as being a bunch of kooks - every single relative of his we've ever met has bucked ferengi tradition in one way or another. secondly, it was fun when he threatened to kill that guy. and finally...the scene at the end. wah. he didn't want to take their charity but he DID because they LOVE HIM? what the hell. you'd never get this shit on tng. ever

that said, i did Not like that dream sequence and the grand nagus jumpscare. they really got me for a minute there

also, girl, what was going on with quark and garak...very absolutely heterosexual murder, ig

KEIKO AND KIRA.........first of all, that marriage is so solid, there is room. she could joint heir marriage. julian could move in just like o'brien said in the next episode. there's so much room in there. let them in

great way to let this woman continue to work while pregnant also. good for them

i do wonder if kira is like. nervous that after she has the baby she wont be staying with them anymore?? i was surprised she'd want to agree at all, but she not only agreed but seemed sad it was temporary?

also, WAH, keiko being sad bc she misses her baby..............god. and then they held hands!!!! women.

broken link (ds9):

NOOOO odo my best friend...

:') that quark came to tell him goodbye when he left btw. MAD that kira couldnt go w him :( she did bring him that little crime report though i love that

i was worrie dta first it would just be an episode about him failing to date this blonde lady...please...she's horny for him but she's no lwaxana troi and she is NO kira nerys. i hope thats the last of her

GOWRON MY BELOVED..................him being a changeling explains so much about his behavior. that changeling got his huge eyes down perfectly also

kira's sneezing. please. that's so charming. bajorans are so lucky they only have to do 5 months of pregnancy that baby will be born in no time

getting garak to taunt odo with his mysterious past as a means of comforting him was SO fucking funny. truly, genuinely, what would he do with sympathy? fuck nothing. but interrogating garak for three days and getting a little mystery to work on? might as well be his birthday. they are always in one way or another having breakfast together

julian almost skipping a stone across the changeling lake. sir what the hell

turning odo into a real human person is FUCKED UP! i can't believe they left his face like that too although i am pleased to have called it (WHY they did that) ahead of time. odo's never been naked before this is so horrible :(

garak trying to do a little genocide was absolutely INSPIRED. he heard "no survivors" and just Snapped. he was willing to kill himself and everyone on that ship, too. he does not do it by halves. i'm sad we keep getting garak episodes with no bashir and garak content, though

odo at the end almost crying about his job :( i don't think he's ever cried before either!!!!!!!! horrible.

TONIGHT: voy's "basics part ii" and "flashback"

[yukidragon]

Okay another question for the story, What if Jack found out that MC's parents had been invading their privacy (Gaining their grades through forgery, or getting their contacts from their phone without them knowing) and MC knows that Jack can read minds and is strongly against it. How would he feel knowing that them invading their privacy is the reason they are so against him reading their mind. Would he still do it?

That's an excellent question. Hmm...

Given what he mentions in the "yes" route of the demo, Jack does seem aware that he's being shady.

Someday you’ll know why I’m doing this. But for now. Trust me when I say that it’s all for you.

It's not necessarily guilt per say, but that phrasing definitely makes it seem like he knows he's doing something he shouldn't in order to stay with his sunshine. So we know he isn't afraid of crossing lines for the sake of MC and their relationship.

Of course we could already figure that out given the fact that Jack is a yandere and would be willing to kill people to keep MC, but I digress.

I think it's a pretty normal reaction for MC to distrust Jack if they knew that he could read their mind, regardless of any trust issues they may or may not have before that. Mindreading is a pretty deep invasion of trust on a fundamental level after all. Adding in real trauma towards such a violation of one's privacy and identity would no doubt make that distrust worse.

If nothing else, Jack might be feeling guilty in this scene because he can read MC's mind and they don't know. He's keeping a huge secret and and it's a violation of trust. However, he likely feels that he can't give up this ability or just abstain from using it since MC is holding back from depending on him or anyone else. He needs that insider knowledge in order to give them what they need and ensure that he keeps them.

Given that Jack can't do anything MC doesn't want him to do... I imagine that once they learn he can read their mind that most MCs would want him to not have that ability, even if they trust him. Since Jack can't even touch MC unless they consent to it, I doubt he can read their mind if they don't want him to.

I suspect that MC is unknowingly sort of giving Jack permission to read their mind. We all want to be understood by others after all, especially those close to us. This could lead to a feeling that Jack is, well, exploiting for his own gain.

So if Jack doesn't have permission, he would have to figure out other ways to find out what MC needs so he can give it to them... and he would need to earn back their trust, since most likely learning that he can do this will damage their relationship with him.

It's possible Jack does intend to let MC know about his mind reading ability once they are deeply bound by love and trust... or he could be planning to hide the secret. He could even make it seem like he just got the ability later on through lies of omission once they trust him to the point that they'd be fine with that idea, maybe even after he's softened them up on the idea first.

Jack can't and won't do anything his sunshine doesn't want him to do. So if MC doesn't want him to read their mind, he can't, and he won't force them either. Consent is a huge part of his character, and so is him convincing MC to give that consent.

So I imagine Jack would be focused heavily on earning MC's trust with the tools he has available. I mean Sunny Day Jack likely wasn't a character that could read minds, and it's doubtful Joseph had that ability before he died, so it's not like he would be necessarily hindered without it.

What Jack might focus on to earn that trust from MC is helping them take care of toxic influences in their life. What their parents are doing is wrong. He needs to put a stop to it.

Really, Jack might use the point that he's respecting MC's consent while their parents are not as another means of convincing them that he's the only one they need. They asked him to stop doing it and he stopped it. He cares about them and their needs after all. He loves them more than anyone else ever could.

After the parents are taken care of and are no longer an issue for MC - in whatever way that eventually resolves itself - then that's one less thing in his sunshine's life that's muting their beautiful, warm light. It's more reason why Jack would no doubt see himself as a positive factor in their life and why they need him.

Though I'm sure Jack wouldn't want to give up on the option to read MC's mind/feelings if he can help it. It's pretty handy after all, and it likely makes him feel even closer to them. He just has to earn their trust first, show that nothing bad would happen if they just let him in and trust him so very deeply. He can make them happy, happier than anyone after all.

The main priority though is MC and their relationship for Jack. He loves them so much and needs them to love him and never forget him. If he has to give up reading their mind in order for them to trust him, well, small price to pay, I'd imagine.

Of course, in fanfiction we're free to explore the characters and setting in more ways than just what's been hinted at in the demo and other official materials. Don't be afraid to explore things that you find interesting or to interpret the story the way that brings you the most joy. There's a lot of creativity in the fandom that read into this sneaky ghost(?) clown in lots of different ways with the few clues we have so far after all.

@channydraws @earthgirlaesthetic @sai-of-the-7-stars @cheriihoney @illary-kore @okamiliqueur

[itwillbelonelywontit]

Mmmm L molesting pre death note Light

He doesn't know how to feel about how L's hands wander over his body or the way he shamelessly gropes him. Maybe there's shame or guilt. Definitely a level of disgust that he doesn't voice out of fear of disrespecting such a powerful older man the worlds greatest detective. Ahhh, that Japanese "respect your superiors" mentality engraved deep in his bones. Maybe he's willing to put up with it as long as L keeps calling him smart and pretty. L's recognition is the highest form of praise one could receive. Light should be honored, L tells him. He has never wanted to touch someone like this before. Say thank you, Light. Show me how greatful you are with your pretty little mouth. Oh, would that be too difficult for you? Light is such a quick learner I'm sure he'll gwt the hang of it- no? Hmmm turn around then. ... You changed your mind, you'll try it then?

This has been going on for a while and Light hasn't said anything. L never let's him cum and Light can't bring himself to masterbate despite being taught by the very best; he gets horrible flashbacks (fond memories L will convince him) to his sessions with L. Light is coming apart at the seams. He wants this to stop but he'll lose this chance at working with the brightest minds on the toughest cases in the world (that he's only ever asked to work on after L has felt him up nice and good. Pavloving him in a way) . And L might hate him :(((. Light tells himself this is all part of working his way up. No matter how dirty or wrong it feels it can only benefit him in the end. Not because he wants to cum in L's hands like the perfect little slut he's training him to be.

IM LIGHTHEADED anon I cannot stop rereading this. FUCK. light not protesting or telling anyone about what L does to him because he doesn't want to be disrespectful and ruin his chances at getting so far up in the legal system I CANT. this is so good. so so good. light being plagued with this gross icky feeling of wrongness whenever L violates him, trying to convince himself it's just how life works when you're an adult (even though he's 16 or 17). AND HE STILL NEEDS L'S PRAISE AND APPROVAL... he wants the world's greatest detective to tell him he's doing a good job, and is willing to ignore that it only happens when he can still taste L's cum in his mouth.

I'm sure soichiro will understand that a brilliant mind like light should accompany L on a few international cases so he can have some hands on experience learning from the very best. he'll miss his son, definitely, but how could he deny this honor? sure, L's a little eccentric, but he's on the side of justice! he's a good man! light will be in safe hands. (camera cuts to L working on a case while light cockwarms him under the desk)

[factorialsotherfandoms]

xcom au, set like... idk 5 years before the 'present' (when Felps is rescued)? It's another year or two before Roier joins the Order, and Cellbit doesn't return until a good chunk after Felps (was going to write that but not in the mood for that level of stuff rn)

... Cellbit/Roier meet cute where one's undercover on a mission, the other's an assassin, and the prompt is 'stabbed'...? Also Cellbit's a bit hungry but doesn't actually eat anyone. Not even the corpse.

Cellbit leans over the corpse of the scientist. With one hand he keeps the scalpel embedded in his thigh - not deep, but annoying - steady, with the other he reaches over to the computer.

With gloved hands he sorts through the records - he's allowed to be here, just not at this time, or in these files...

Blood seeps from around the scalpel as he reads, committing every part to memory. He knows he's good at this, he knows he is. Making a copy leaves a trace, and anything he writes or carries risks being found.

His mind, though?

Well they can violate his mind - they have done before, many times - but he also has means to protect that.

It's not a clue, not even really an answer, but it's another step. One more step, one more clue - he will find where they have taken Felps, what they have done to his friend. He will save the man who saved him, or he will be ruined in the act.

"Hello there."

A voice from the ceiling. Spanish. Cellbit whirls around. He pulls the scalpel from his leg - a mistake, definitely a mistake - and points it to the sky.

Six eyes - two large, four small - stare down at him. Four eyes - one large, three small - blink, then the other two.

And, oh, that's a /nice/ jawline. Cellbit isn't sure if he wants to kiss or chew on it.

It belongs to a man - spider hybrid, but a man - crouching on the ceiling. And yes, on the ceiling - bare feet and bare hands are in contact with the roof tiles, something about his sub-species enabling him to stay suspended.

He's not in Federation dress, and Cellbit definitely /looks/ the part he plays right now.

Cellbit curses under his breath, slaps his free hand to his wound. He keeps the scalpel up and says "this isn't what it looks like!"

At least he speaks Spanish. It could have been very, very much worse.

The man tilts his head. The four smallest eyes all close this time, and the other two squint, "you... did not murder the researcher? Then why was her scalpel in your leg?"

"Oh," Cellbit lets out a single breath. "No, no I did do that."

"And now you're bleeding."

That doesn't really need a response.

The man drops himself down, landing softly on the floor.

"Is anyone paying you for that?"

"The bleeding?"

"The murder."

That's almost as confusing a question. "No? I just needed her computer."

The man breaks out into a grin, "can we make a deal, then? I get to have killed her, and you get help with your wound."

"You want to claim a kill? Won't the Feds come after you?"

"I like getting paid. Do we have a deal?"

An assassin, then. Cellbit's not sure why someone would pay for a random researcher dead, but he's in no mood to ask.

Healing with stitches is slow, but it's only a small wound. The bleeding is unpleasant, it has the potential to be dangerous, but only as a way to be caught.

He was just going to leave it, bandage it when he gets the chance, and hope it heals up before his supervisor cares to ask about the limp.

But, if a pretty boy is offering...

"Deal."

Cellbit doesn't even want to claim the kill - he still needs his cover, to stay hidden. He's not found Felps yet, and now he's in this deep he can see something even deeper in the web. The Federation are not just stealing people, not just killing them either. They're up to /something/, and seeing as he's already here...

He doesn't think he can leave until he's dead, or he's worked out what.

But the pretty spider boy smiles, sitting down on the floor to him, next to the corpse. He pulls out a packet of butterfly stitches and an antiseptic wipe.

Cellbit rolls up his trousers, and offers the man his wound.

Fingers linger as the cut is cleaned, then carefully aligned and stuck back together.

"I would have expected a spider to have thread."

"Oh I do," the pretty boy says. "But it doesn't need it, and I don't want to hurt you, Gatinho. Even with a little needle."

Cellbit splutters at the nickname, earning him a mischievous smirk.

It's better than names. This is far from a safe place to share names.

The butterfly stitches in place, the man pats Cellbit's leg and then hoists himself up.

"Thank you," Cellbit says, because he has not entirely forgotten the manners that were taught to him.

The man smiles with all of his eyes and all of his teeth, "before pressing a quick kiss to the "no, thank you."

"Do you need anything else?" Cellbit asks, standing too. He has everything memorised - it's time to blow the boiler and erase the evidence. "I'm going to burn this place when I leave, so it's your last chance."

"I'm good," the man's smile looks a little more real like this. "I'll get out of your hair, then."

He grabs onto the wall, scuttling up it and back to the ceiling. Up there Cellbit can see a cracked open skylight, surely where he came in.

Cellbit finds his lighter, and checks where the gas pipes lead, and looks up and-

"Wait!"

It's Cellbit who calls. He doesn't know why he did that.

The pretty boy stops, turning and looking at Cellbit over his shoulder - with three of his eyes.

"Will I see you again, Guapito?"

A nickname for a nickname, something to name the man.

Part of Cellbit hopes so, most of Cellbit knows this is a dangerous place to be. The depths of the Federation are no place for a human being.

Cellbit sold out his humanity a long time ago.

Just because he's an assassin doesn't mean Guapito has necessarily sold his too.

Guapito puts a finger to his lips, and smirks.

That's all the answer gets as the man hoists himself out of the skylight, and away.

And Cellbit...

Well, Cellbit has a laboratory to explode.

[hologramcowboy]

You make interesting points about a lot of things in the supernatural fandom!

I’ve always thought the Jared was the asshole of the dynamic, but boy oh boy was I wrong! He’s really sweet and real, I like that!

Also, I’m not really a “fan”, sure I’ve watched some eps when I was younger but not really a fan! Now I’m watching non-stop, I have a few observations:

1) this show is about family, always has been!

2) Dean’s actions sometimes rub the wrong way!

3) Sam was pretty reasonable character!

4) Destiel it’s not real, never has been and never will! Those shippers are just insane!

5) the show gets progressively more ridiculous!

Yes, my absolute favorite thing about Supernatural is the unconditional bond between brothers. Despite conflicts, challenges, despite the whole world, Sam and Dean love each other.

I feel the same way about Dean, especially in later season when Jensen took OTT acting and choices to a cringe level.

Sam has a lot of layers and I adore a story where someone reaches the deepest darkness and lowest of lows and then breaks through and evolves, transforms his pain. A story like that is very empowering in providing hope.

Hellers are set on projecting their need for validation by abusing the actors and violating their sexuality and indentity. There's nothing wrong with loving ships but they should never violate an actor's wellbeing and they should never be claimed as real. It saddens me that hellers are so caught up in their inability to love and accept themselves that they forcefully project this ship unto reality. I get that they come from deep pain but I wish they would find healthy ways to celebrate who and what they are without violating the actors and disconnecting from reality.

SPN did lose quality somewhere down the line but it's main throughline and the thing that unites us all survived: the unconditional love between Sam and Dean. I really wish Jensen had taken inspiration from that depth for his prequel ( The Winchesters) instead of creating such a vapid "love story" that was anything but a love story.

Thank you for this lovely post! 💕

[thewritetofreespeech]

Hi! Its the ‘lovely blog - closed shop violator’ anon 😂 Had a good laugh on your reply, thank you! ❤️❤️ Can I ask for any mean Takao hc or scenario? Takao seems like a chill character but what can cause him to be a meanie? Outside of the basketbalk because there he is quite intense

Kazunari Takao 'mean' Headcanons

Well regular stuff like racism, prejudice, and hate is sort of a blanket start.

Bullies too. He hates bullies.

Takao is the kind of guy who sees someone being mean and is like ‘haha. my turn.’ and just takes it to a whole new level.

Obviously when he loses a match he gets pretty snappy and can hurt the feelings of those closest to him.

He hates to lose anything. Not just basketball, but boardgames, video games, side bets on who could get a better grade on a test.

Though he’s a very good sport, deep down it bothers him and he can get mouthy.

He also has a general dislike for being cold. So try to stay on his good side in winter.