#especially comparing scenes between possession! like!!!!

[coldhands-sunkeneyes]

The First Omen is easily one of my favorite horror movies. I felt physically ill and like I could cry but that’s womanhood I guess. Watching this on my period while starting to feel some of the external pressures of oh my god you’re in your mid 20s get married have a baby be an adult be a mother was certainly an experience. We need women directing horror bc I’ve never felt more terrified in my life. And Nell Tiger Free absolutely killed every scene she was in. Breaking the fourth wall sent chills down my spine. Beautifully shot like oh my god a horror movie that you can actually see what’s going on crazy. And honestly this saved the fuckass omen franchise.

My absolute beloved

[misspygmypie]

The Ex

Part of the "Meet & Greet... and more?" Universe Pairing: Lando Norris x reader, Lando Norris x Noah Words: 1076 Request: I love jealous Lando, I have a request for your series. Reader dated a person after she had Noah, but they broke up because he had moved for his job, and the reader didn't want to move Noah at such a young age. And this ex was really good to Noah, and maybe they see him while there shopping or something and Noah dose sort of recognise him and he gets excited and Lando is really jealous that another man gets along with Noah so well that was before him. Lo key love jealous Lando Masterlist

Please do not repost, thank you, and leave some feedback :)

Y/N sat on the park bench, her gaze following her five-year-old son, Noah, as he dashed across the playground with what seemed like an unlimited amount of energy. Noah was having a great time and Lando, who had become an integral part of their lives, was there to share this moment with them.

Lando was sitting casually next to Y/N, an arm wrapped around her shoulders and his eyes fixed on the boy. He had always been great with kids and it was clear Noah had taken an immediate liking to him, much to his relief. His and Y/N’s relationship was still relatively new but it was evident that he cared deeply for both her and Noah and they were slowly finding their rhythm together as both a couple and - dare I say it - a little family.

As Y/N watched Noah play, she couldn’t help but think how happy she was with Lando and how different the relationship was compared to Noah’s father - not just for her but for her son as well. There was only one other man Noah has had in his short life so far. She thought back to a time when Noah was almost three years old, when she had a brief relationship with a man named Will. The relationship had ended amicably when Will moved away for a job and Y/N had made the decision to stay in their current home for Noah’s sake, not wanting to rip him out of the familiarity of the city and his friends. She hadn’t anticipated running into Will today, especially not here, at this park.

From across the playground she spotted a familiar figure walking towards them. Her heart skipped a beat. Will was unmistakable with his casual stroll and the familiar look she hadn’t seen in years. She glanced over at Lando, noting his relaxed posture as he still just looked at Noah, not sensing what was about to happen.

Noah, who had been climbing the jungle gym, spotted Will immediately. His face lit up with recognition and excitement. “Will!” he called out, his voice filled with pure joy as he scrambled down from the equipment and ran towards the man.

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat. She got up and approached the quickly, trying to keep her composure as she watched Will kneel down, arms open wide. There was a warmth and familiarity between them and Noah’s enthusiastic response only made the moment more poignant.

“Hey there, bud,” Will greeted, lifting Noah into his arms. The affection was evident and Noah wrapped his small arms around Will, looking utterly delighted.

Lando, who had been watching the interaction from a distance, suddenly stiffened. His eyes narrowed slightly as he took in the scene. He had never felt such a sharp pang of jealousy before but seeing Noah so happily embraced by another man - someone who wasn’t him! - triggered a feeling he hadn’t anticipated. 

Y/N’s heart was racing as she tried to keep the situation under control. “Hi,” she said, trying to sound casual despite the nerves in her voice.

Her ex-boyfriend looked up, surprise flashing across his face. “Oh, hey Y/N. Didn’t expect to run into you two here. Just visiting some old friends.”

“Hi, I’m Lando. Nice to meet you,” Lando approached, his smile strained but polite as he not so subtly pushed himself into the conversation. 

The two men shook hands and Lando’s grip was firm, almost possessive. He forced himself to maintain a friendly demeanor but his eyes betrayed his emotions. Yeah, nice to meet you, who are you anyway?!

Her ex-boyfriend, seemingly oblivious to the tension, continued chatting. “No need for introductions,” he said with a casual wave. “I know how it is. Just came by to see how everyone’s doing.”

Just came by, huh? Lando thought. Must be nice to stroll in and out of people’s lives like a guest star on a show.

Will and Noah continued to chat and Lando’s gaze remained fixed on them. He could barely concentrate on the small talk happening around him. Every laugh and affectionate gesture between Will and Noah felt like a jab to his heart. Seriously, Lando, get it together. It’s just a guy from the past, not some long-lost relative coming to claim his spot.

The conversation continued but Lando’s focus was solely on Noah. The sight of the boy so content and animated with Will was a reminder of what he feared most: being an outsider in Noah’s life. 

When Will finally said his goodbyes, Lando’s jaw was set tight. He looked at Y/N, trying to steady his emotions. “Didn’t think it would be so... hard,” he admitted, his voice betraying the struggle he felt inside.

Y/N placed a comforting hand on his arm. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know this would happen today. I should have warned you.”

Lando’s eyes were troubled as he met her gaze. It’s not just about being warned. It’s seeing Noah so happy with someone from his past, it makes me question where I fit into all of this. Am I just the ‘new guy’ in his life? 

“You’re a huge part of his life, Lando,” Y/N  said after clearly seeing the struggle in Lando’s eyes. “He loves you and he’s happy with you. I know it’s tough but you’re his family now.”

Lando’s expression softened slightly but the jealousy lingered. He glanced back at Noah, who had returned to playing as if nothing out of the ordinary had just happened. Alright, focus. He’s smiling. He’s happy. That’s what matters. 

Y/N took a deep breath, her gaze steady and supportive. “You stand in a very important place, Lando. Noah adores you. It’s okay to feel what you’re feeling. We’re all navigating this together.”

“I know,” Lando nodded, trying to push away the lingering feelings of jealousy, “I just need to come to terms with it.”

They both watched as Noah continued to play, his laughter mingling with the sounds of the park. The encounter had stirred up emotions Lando hadn’t expected but it also reminded him of the importance of his role in Noah’s life. Y/N squeezed Lando’s hand and softly guided him back to the playground. Lando’s gaze softened when he looked at her and then to Noah. Despite the unexpected surge of jealousy he was determined to be the best partner and father figure he could be.

________

AN: Anon, I hope you like it and if not let me know and I can rewrite 😊🫶

Taglist: @eloriis @pacifierbby @landossainz @littlegrapejuice @barcelonaloverf1life @poppyflower-22 @itsjustfranzi @vickykazuya @sltwins

[biteofcherry]

To find the light, we must first touch the darkness

Please also check out @bluepinkangel​’s amazing hot moodboard for this universe 🖤

dark!mafia Steve Rogers x female reader

summary: When you unexpectedly are appointed to run a health center, you foresee many struggles along the way, but not one in the form of a merciless mob boss. Steve Rogers’ core aim is to own and he won’t take no for an answer. To any of his demands.

warnings: dark!Steve Rogers; manipulation; threats; power imbalance;

word count: 4.4k

Touch the Darkness Masterlist

Chapter 2. Lava in the snow

~ * ~ 

Always a professional, you decided on setting hard boundaries with Mr Rogers, but in the privacy of your office. 

It was never a good idea to have an audience for a type of a scolding, especially if a person considered themselves in a position of power compared to the people witnessing the scene. That escalated reactions, while meeting eye to eye gave the opportunity for both parties to still hold respect.

Taking a step back from Rogers’ towering posture, you stiffly motioned for him to walk inside your office. 

You cast a pointed glare Natalie’s way as you closed the door. She was swift in her work against the unexpected circumstances, but you wanted to drive in the point of not doing favors for anyone.

The only favors you accepted in the center were those for the patients. For them you’d make things as flexible as needed.

You took a calming breath, fingers still resting on the door handle, before you pulled back your shoulders and turned around to face your guest. 

He watched you curiously. At least you preferred to assess it as merely curiosity, as something told you it was best not to read the intensity in his eyes as actual, deeper interest. 

The way his gaze slid up from your feet, taking in every inch of your body until it settled on your face, was bordering on inappropriate. 

You met his gaze evenly, trying not to show that the vivid contrast between you two made you feel uneasy.  

You were wearing a simple, pale blue pantsuit (the jacket currently hanging over the back of your office chair) and a white blouse; your heels not too high, a few jewelry pieces not overbearing your looks. 

Appealing light tones to underline your professional approach. 

He was an unpolished chunk of darkness. Clean, but heavy boots; jeans on which you tried not to focus, since they seemed so tight around his thighs and ass; a dark henley and a black leather jacket to match. 

Each piece was basic, but pristine; and heavy compared to yours. 

Light versus dark, to put it simply. 

But there was more to the difference between the two of you. And you weren’t certain - not with the way he carried himself - that you’d easily maintain an upper hand even in your own office.

Rogers was like a nugget of volcanic rock that landed among the bright snow of your world, and the black heart of it sizzled with so much destroying force the innocent wintery landscape would have to melt for him.

“Please sit, Mr Rogers.” You tilted your chin up, adamant on not yielding. 

You walked around him, noticing that he moved to sit down only as you took a seat in your own chair. He probably waited to assess your intentions. Or it could be a gentleman’s habit, though you wouldn’t assume he possessed such traits. 

Not with the way he strolled into the center, like there was no risk of him being denied anything he demanded. 

He was probably leading some old-money, family company, where the great grandsons of a slaver were so used to their wealth and spoiled with attention, they didn’t even bother to show simplest acts of courtesy. 

“I’m sure you’re a busy man Mr Rogers,” you forced your jaw to relax, not to grit the words through your teeth. “So I assume your need to see me goes beyond simply wanting to meet the new director of the center.”

You knew there have been phone calls with invitations to lunches, or brunches, or other unches, with bored philanthropists and benefactors. Which Natalie skilfully dodged, placating the hungry for novelty elites with promises of you joining them for a meal in the future.

You didn’t suspect Rogers of that, but one could never be sure. 

“It does, but you are a curiosity.” He leaned back in his chair. 

“How so?” You raised an eyebrow.

Was it because your name hasn’t been on the list of celebrity doctors, with whom Stark-level elites were mingling with? To have an actual commoner become the head of a prospering health center could shake the boring world of snobs. 

Then again, it didn’t seem that the center was interesting to any of them, since Howard made sure to not profit from it. Its main goal was to serve people, not his name. 

“A pretty, shiny fish being dropped into a tank full of sharks and swimming through it all calm and confident.” 

His voice carried hints of amusement and disbelief; and also a drop of fascination, which alerted your senses as something bad. 

Still, you weren’t about to reveal uneasiness, nor uncertainty. That’s how people of his caliber learned they get to poke at weaker ones. You wouldn’t be weaker. So you crossed your palms in your lap, holding your back ramrod straight. 

“If you mean dealing with health care system moguls, I assure you I have experience in that. Managing donations for a privately based center won’t be much different than wrapping pharmaceutical companies around a finger.” You shrugged, quite confident in your abilities. 

Rogers, in turn, grinned darkly.

“That’s not what I mean at all.” He replied, entertained with your attempts to cover a shiver which clearly shook your body. 

Becoming even more annoyed, you huffed and placed your hands on your desk.

“What is it that you mean, then?” You asked, your patience thinning. 

“You have no idea who I am, do you?” Rogers tilted his head to the side, previously shown amusement dimming down. 

The air around him seemed to hum with power as his features settled into sharp seriousness. You were starting to suspect it wasn’t a usual business meeting. Nothing about this man was usual. Not in your standards, anyway.  

“One of Howard’s benefactors?” You swallowed nervously, while still trying to remain calm on the outside. 

You wanted to believe that initial assumption, even though you now suspected it to be a lie. Not only from the course of the conversation, but also the way Steve Rogers sat in a basic office chair as if it was a throne.

His ringed fingers resting loosely over the armrests added to that aura. 

Thick, dark silver bands; some simple, some twisted in more intricate shape, a few even had colorful stones submerged into heavy metal. 

Vines of black ink stretched over one of his hands, a shape of bare roots that twisted into a thicker pattern over his wrists, but the tattoo disappeared under the sleeve of his jacket and you were unable to decipher it. 

You should’ve noticed earlier that he wasn’t a spoiled heir to an old fortune, but someone who probably reaped his riches with brute force.

“Of sort.” Rogers quirked his eyebrows, the corner of his mouth tilting in a smirk for a brief second. It was all gone in a blink of an eye. 

“I’m someone who has all of those benefactors under my thumb.” He stated simply. “As well as other people.”

He wasn’t boasting. Rather laying down the law he expected you to take into consideration and abide by. 

“What do you want exactly?” Earlier you were careful not to irritate (too much) a potential donor, now you needed to stay cautious of danger that lurked beneath the surface of Rogers’ handsome face.   

“A lot of things,” his grin was sharp and threatening, “but now, from you? I want this place.”

That actually surprised you. Having watched too many movies, you half expected to hear something about paying for protection, or else your place will accidentally burn down to the ground. 

Instead, Steve Rogers wanted to own the whole place. For what reason? It made absolutely no sense. It wasn’t a company that gained money, you weren’t producing, or selling anything worthy. It was a health center founded on charities, basic contracts with the ministry, taking care of people who couldn’t afford private help. 

“You want to run a health center?” You asked slowly, still not comprehending his words. 

“Not at all.” Steve shook his head, his grin not disappearing. “The grounds it stands on are of value to me.”

At that you felt a surge of anger. Justified, in your opinion. 

A cocky bastard, who potentially could kill you with his bare hands, was attempting to deprive dozens of people in need of medical and mental help they needed, just because he wanted to own some valuable land. 

“There are plenty of available plots all over the city and outside of it.” You rose to your feet in a rush, ready to throw him out of your office (though you weren’t sure how exactly you would manage to do that).

“I am not going to hand over this place, robbing people in need of the help they only recently received, just because you wish to broaden your show-off territory.” You circled your desk in swift steps, standing in front of Rogers with your hands on your hips. 

“I won’t ever sell it. Or hand it over. No!”

As you nearly screamed the last word, it dawned on you what you’ve done. How reckless was your outburst, considering the man you were speaking to. 

You still had no idea who he was exactly, how deep under the ground he buried his enemies - or maybe, quite the contrary, he displayed them for all to see, so no one else would go against him. But you sensed it was stupid to go for his throat so boldly. 

“You haven’t yet heard my offer.” Rogers remained seated, though you noticed his fingers clenching on the armrests of his chair. 

His rings scraped against the metal and you almost felt the cold pressure of them against your own throat. He’d undoubtedly leave red dents in your skin if he clenched his large hand around your neck. 

“I’m not interested in it.” This time your reply came out softer; as if his fingers were already circling the front of your neck, threatening to squeeze. 

You weren’t going to change your decision, but you had enough working brain left to control yourself to not antagonize Rogers further. 

“You should be.” Steve slowly stood up. 

As he did, you instinctively took a step back, bumping into your own desk. Which was a bad move, you knew. Not only you sort of blocked your own way of escape, but showed a sign of fear, which the predator before you undoubtedly noticed. 

“See, I’m not the only one who will show interest in this place.” Rogers rolled his shoulders back, in a move similar to fighters readying to throw a punch. 

With how big he was, how strong his fingers alone looked, you suspected that if he punched you, your teeth wouldn’t only rattle in your mouth, but fall out. 

Though maybe he wouldn’t hit you, just break your neck in one quick snap. 

“Word goes around, especially in this city. Others will reach out to you, too, when they find out I’ve shown interest.” He took a step forward. “Sooner or later. For your sake, I hope it’s too late for them.”

When his gaze slid up the length of your body, it felt like a scrape of a blade against your skin. 

His eyes were so cold, irises a shade of rising sunlight caught in mountain ice, that running a sharp knife along your skin might feel a warmer caress than standing his gaze. 

A chill crept up your spine. 

A different kind of zing surged downward at the unexpected image of Rogers' blue eyes studying your responses as he runs an actual blade over your body. 

Still, you tilted your chin up defiantly, arms crossing over your chest. 

"If it's so desired by many, as you claim, why should I take your offer instead of others?" You asked, stubbornly refusing to bend to Steve Rogers' will. 

Not that you planned on taking anyone’s offer, but perhaps you could play a sneaky game and lead them all in circles with false declarations of selling to the others. Though you doubted they’d believe it for long. Rogers sure didn’t look stupid enough to fall for it.  

He cocked his head to the side, a glimmer of curiosity reigniting in his eyes; like a glint at the tip of an ice pick about to pierce right through you. 

"Because-" his voice was so deceivingly warm and deep- "I can protect you from them. But no one can protect you from me, Princess." 

First obvious threat striked you, forcing the air out of your lungs in a gasp. Your arms fell to your sides, fingers slightly trembling. 

You wanted to accuse him of a big ego, laugh that any petty criminal would say how dangerous they are and no one else could protect you from them. But somehow you believed Rogers. You believed he’s as scary and untouchable as he painted himself to be. 

“There’s no need for condescending names,” you blurted out instead, needing to direct your shaken feelings at something. 

“Condescending?” Steve inched even closer, his feet bracketing yours as his hands slipped between your arms and your body to rest on the edge of the desk. 

He had you truly trapped. Caged between the desk and his powerful body, which radiated warmth that was so tempting to lean into. 

Further temptation was his perfume. A warm spicy scent, notes of cedar and cardamom, with a splash of something awakening, something tart and fresh to pull you from the lulling haze of the first notes. 

His perfume was just like him - a lethal slice of acid hidden beneath a warm, comforting veneer.

“A Princess is a title of a royal family’s member,” Rogers’ eyes bore into yours, “You may not be connected by blood, but you are now an heiress to Stark, who has been treated like royalty for decades.”

“A Princess-” one of his hands brushed your hip- “is also a girl deserving to be spoiled.”

You couldn’t help glancing at his lips when he licked them. Or maybe you wanted any excuse not to be looking into his ice cold eyes. 

“Seize the opportunity while I still consider you deserving of it.” He pulled back; the comforting softness of his voice transformed into coarse bidding. 

“You can keep your center, I don’t need it locked down. But you will sign the property over to my name.” There was finality to his tone which you didn’t dare object at this very moment. “You have twenty four hours to consider. This time tomorrow, I’ll come to hear you say yes to me, Princess.”

Don’t hold your breath, itched to roll out on your tongue. 

You kept silent, however. Twenty four hours wasn’t long enough to wage your options, but perhaps it’ll be enough to contact law enforcement or other institutions and gain yourself help. 

You watched Rogers leave your office, your fingers clenching on the edge of the desk as you allowed tremors to shake you now that he wasn’t watching. 

A few heartbeats, three deep breaths, and you were straightening. 

You walked to the door with purpose, telling yourself you wouldn't shake if Rogers was still behind them. Yet you sighed in relief when you saw his shadow disappearing far around the corner. 

Your gaze shifted from the end of the corridor to the two people still standing nearby. Natalie was typing away on her phone, seemingly unperturbed by what just occurred. Felix wasn’t shaking as much as before, but his forehead was still dewy with sweat. 

“In my office, n o w.” You ordered, though your anger didn’t scare them as much as Rogers calmth did. 

Maybe you needed to start wearing darker clothes? 

You shook your head to rid away the idiotic thought, reminding yourself that you did not want to be anything like Steve Rogers. Your goal wasn’t to terrify people, it was to provide help and safety. 

Something Rogers was probably unfamiliar with as a concept. 

Felix closed the door when both of them entered your office, choosing to stay behind and sit on a small chaise that served more decoration than a used seat. Natalie took the chair which Rogers not so long vacated, spreading her calendar open in her lap and looking at you with her usual readiness to follow the day’s agenda. 

“Who. The. Fuck. Is Steve Rogers?” You paced the floor, needing to get rid of the last remnants of adrenaline his visit evoked. 

“I swear, if one of you says influential-” you leveled them with a pointed glare- “I will throw a stapler at you.”

“He’s a mob boss.” Felix gulped, rubbing his hands against his thighs. “A very, very bad man.” 

“Well, he’s good at running his branch.” Natalie rolled her eyes. “There are three major mafias in the region. Rogers is the head of one of them. Over the past few years, his power has grown enough to push back the other two families, leaving them only scraps.” 

“A mob boss.” You said to yourself, nearly breathless. 

You suspected it, but some naive, helpless side of you didn’t want to fully believe it.

Things like that happened in movies and books. Sure, you were aware the likes of him truly existed, but they never crossed paths with people like you. Hell, the only crime you ever committed was a speeding ticket half a year after passing your driver’s license exam. 

“More like a king, to be fair.” Natalie looked at you seriously, a first flash of her taking the situation as heavy as it was. “He really has ties all over the city and far beyond that.”

“I’ve heard he has at least four senators in his pocket.” Felix piped in, calmer now that Rogers nor his men were anywhere near. “And quite a few big fishes on other continents, too.” 

Rumors tended to be overblown. Those serving to cement someone’s big, scary reputations were probably deliberately maintained, so people wouldn’t fight him out of fear of consequences. As there were - to some - repercussions worse than death. 

“I should assume he has sway over the police, then.” You nearly deflated as realization dawned on you.

If Rogers had even one third of the influence they said, it meant you wouldn’t do well going with this case to the police. He’d know about it right away, which could result in retaliation worse than what awaited you if you just stubbornly said no. 

“I-” Felix opened his mouth, closed it, then opened it again. “He was seen having dinner with the chief of police and some FBI person. Chatty and cozy, like old friends.” 

Your eyebrows rose nearly to your hairline. Natalie turned her head, glancing at Felix over her shoulder with a genuinely surprised expression, too.

“And how do you know that?” She asked; perhaps a little offended that Felix knew more than her. Natalie liked to be the best at everything.

“You know me, I can’t help but live for the gossip columns and blogs.” He admitted, with an embarrassed sigh. “Even if that’s only gossip, I’m pretty sure it’s close to the truth.”

You suspected he was right. If some of the information about Rogers’ connections was exaggerated, still it was safe to assume it had basis in truth. There was no safe way to ensure your actions weren’t reported back to him. 

“Fucking fantastic.” You muttered, closing your eyes and pressing your fingers against your temples. 

If the whole ordeal resulted only in one big headache, you’d take it. Unfortunately for you, there were more problematic consequences awaiting, regardless of your choice. 

“Can’t you just give him what he wants?” Natalie asked cautiously.

“No!” Felix’s protest sounded more vehement than yours.

His suddenly discovered moral spine surprised you. In a good way. 

Natalie was calculating, you couldn’t blame her for that. If saying yes meant little trouble, you probably would choose it as the logical option. But Rogers owning the place meant he could decide its fate at any time. Promises of letting you run it could be revoked within months. Not to mention the reputation of the center would shatter, if the public learned who truly owns it.  

“If Mr Rogers simply wanted me to admit someone into our program, cutting the waiting list, I’d give him that.” You’d still be pissed that some rich fucker wanted to screw over poor people who were also waiting, but it was something at least someone in need could actually gain from. 

“What he wants isn't that simple.” To him it was; a simple yes or no. To you it could change your entire life. 

Moreover, his insinuation suggested others would be coming with similar propositions. Perhaps worse propositions, leaving you no false hope of even running the health center as it was. 

His wrath, if you took someone else’s offer, would probably be a very painful one, too.

Why did it all have to fall on your head? Couldn’t Rogers discover the worth of these grounds a few months ago, when it would have been Howard’s problem, not yours? 

The rest of the day ticked away like mad. Meetings and smaller problems, with which you’d deal easily any other day, now seemed to gain in size and difficulty. Your head wasn’t clear; images of Rogers’ face flashed back before your eyes. The sound of his voice saying twenty four hours resounded with each strike of the clock.  

Before you knew it, the sun was setting. Meaning you stayed at work longer than you first assumed you would. 

It was dedication to what you did, but at this very moment also fear of having to fully face the truth of what was coming in the morning. Who was coming.

And you still had no idea what to do. 

Felix and Natalie were long gone when you left the building, as were the rest of the employees. Only the night shift security guards remained. They escorted you to the parking entrance and locked the door behind you. 

You nervously swayed your car keys in your hand as you walked toward your car, briefly entertaining the idea of driving far far away. 

An escape would postpone making any decisions. But it wouldn’t solve the problem. 

Quite the opposite, it could multiply it. 

Plus, it wasn’t in your nature to just run. You always fought back against whatever life threw at you. Granted, often you fussed and whined, pitied yourself when you had to struggle with something, but you never ran. 

You were a few steps away from your car when you heard a sound from somewhere behind you. Clutching your keys in your hand, you turned around.

There was no one. 

Before you were able to let out a sigh of relief, a dark cloth was thrown over your head. 

Arms wrapped around you, trapping your own arms to your sides. Your scream was muffled by the hood that covered your whole face and a hand pressing over your mouth. 

You squirmed with all your might, trying to jerk your head backwards to maybe break the assailant’s nose. You managed to kick them, your pointy heel cutting into their leg. 

He cursed, but his hold on you didn’t falter much. It was a man, judging by his voice. He called you a bitch when you began kicking back with all your effort, striking his legs a few more times.  

Then another set of hands were grabbing your ankles, depriving you of this form of defense. They hoisted you up, despite you thrashing like a fish out of water.  

Suddenly, your legs were dropped down. You didn’t know why, only heard a grunt and the sound of something heavy falling.

Your other captor cursed, pushing you down so hard your head hit the asphalt. Above you, something metallic clicked, then grunts and sounds of something crushing followed. You rolled on the ground, hoping to blindly get yourself from whatever was happening.

Buzzing noise filled your head as you propped yourself on your hands and knees. You really hoped you didn’t have a concussion. 

With jerky moves, you ripped the hood off your head. Your vision was slightly foggy. It took you a long moment to realize it wasn’t dark because you had a severe head injury, but because it was very late in the evening. 

You glanced toward the commotion. Someone was lying on the ground, unmoving. Perhaps it was the man who was holding your legs. The other one was fighting with someone. Futily. Despite his muscles and physical strength, he couldn’t block any of the fast punches from his much smaller opponent.

You weren’t interested in staying to see who would win. Your savior would have to do with self-pride, because you weren’t going to stay to say thank you. Oh no, you were going to drive the hell away from here.

As soon as you located your car keys, which had to fall out of your hand when you were tossed to the ground. 

You were searching for them in panic, squinting your eyes to see better in the shadows, when a screeching sound of tires pierced the night. 

A black car burst into the parking lot. It raced past you, smoothly wedging itself between you and your assailants, and halting. 

Two pairs of heavy boots jumped out of the car, landing with a thud on the asphalt. One pair ran around the car toward the fighting strangers, the other pair turned your way. 

“Get rid of them,” came someone’s cold, angry voice. 

“Then find that fucking little rat.” 

You almost crawled back on all fours when those boots stopped inches from you and a familiar face came into your line of vision when he crouched down. 

Steve Rogers was here again. 

And it hasn’t been twenty four hours yet. 

You stared at him, both in fear and awe. He appeared to be your savior, but his eyes didn’t hold an ounce of pity or sympathy. A stormy ocean was locked in his irises. You couldn’t be sure if you weren’t also a part of the source of wrath shining in his eyes.  

Steve reached his hand out, picking up your keys, which suddenly materialized so close to you. He tossed them up and caught them again, but didn’t offer them back to you. 

“Come, Princess. Before midnight strikes and more trouble comes your way.” 

“Worse trouble than you?” You huffed, wincing as you tried to stand up.

You weren’t that badly battered, but it still hurt to move. Dizziness took over your head as you clumsily stood up.

Rogers’ hand wrapped around your elbow, supporting you as you swayed a little. There was that smile again - half amusement, half threat - but the shadows distorted it into a wicked grin. 

“Give us a chance,” he teased, not letting you go, but forcing you to walk along him toward his car, “you may like the kind of trouble I am.”

[geordikisser]

jealous!redacted boys | suggestive

characters: david, milo, asher & sam :p

☆ a/n: any porter missers? miss porter. this was an excuse to write abt porter but might as well spoil my milo & david mooties who follow meee >_O!! part 2 later :33 ☆

context: someone is tryna spit some sweet shit to you as he steps away

david:

- david will never hesitate to let it be shown when he is feeling a type of way about someone who’s interacting with you. it’s in his blood to devote loyalty & possessiveness upon things he claims as his

- whether it’s intentional, it’ll show when he is feeling upset at someone who’s seemingly putting moves on you

- “is everything alright.” in the scariest voice you’ve ever heard from him

- david is a direct man but that directness doesn’t mean he’s directed in the right direction sometimes,, he isn’t to good with social cues with you. he’s stupid with love. smart with most! but love? eeeerm.

- he has a history with that too,, looks at jealous tsundere bf confronts you.

- he will become very touchy/clingy with you once he begins reading signs he doesn’t like. to hand holding or even thigh holding. he’ll rub your thigh with his finger gently or hold you closely by the waist and play with the bottom of your shirt. actions speak louder than words! i guess

- “clearly social cues aren’t your strong suit. fuck off, they aren’t interested.” as blunt as he’ll put it, in that same tone. he isn’t loud or aggressive. just direct and stern, he doesn’t want to cause a scene.

- after you two left from hanging out, david felt the urge to meet your lips with his as he dragged you in the house practically. you chuckle in between kisses as you put your hands on david’s chest. “you’re mine, you know that right, angel?” he asked in a low husky tone. you nod as you caress his cheek. “i love knowing you’re mine.” he growls lowly, his breath hitching as he said that.

milo:

- unlike david, he isn’t quiet. he’s loud about how he feels with you & other people who try to spit some shit with you

- “yo, who’s this?” mentality

- he will glare and give nasty looks from afar. until he realizes the whole shtick going on with you. he will make his entrance very grand and big,,

- “hey sweetheart!” he pulls you in and kisses you everywhere he can within public. “how’s my sweetheart?— oh? who’s this?” he’s petty with it i just know it

- if the punk doesn’t get the hint milo will get real serious. he will puff out his big boy chest and rip that person tryna hit on you to shreds. he’ll even bare his teeth a bit too ngl, he isn’t scared

- “listen here, punk. your little act for my sweetheart isn’t cute. quite frankly, you could use some tips. good thing i’m not a teacher. though, i could teach you some manners if you’d like. no means no, now scram.” in a low tone but if anyone walked by, they could hear.

- milo isn’t bashful, he knows what’s his and wants to keep it that way. he doesn’t need small hints and signs to show what’s his, he will scream it to the roof tops lmao. he’s a blunt and bold dude, no hesitation w him

asher:

- asher’s dumb. he has 0 tone reading skills & doesn’t understand most things. he won’t catch on until it gets physical or you show visible discomfort.

- he is more polite compared to his other friends. he’s a sweet boy, has 0 bad bones inside him. he’ll tell the punk to go off somewhere or tell them you’re taken to actually avoid conflict

- asher, despite his loud & unruly nature, prefers peace over violence such as that. he hates conflict, he isn’t a aggressive person at heart!! doesn’t mean he’s afraid to be aggressive he won’t hesitate to be violent, especially if it’s over you? he’s a extremely protective person.

- “hey, i know your intentions are pure but they’re taken! they have a boyfriend.” & whatever the other person has to say he’ll shut it down immediately, he doesn’t care for what they have to say. positive or negative, he doesn’t care.

- if the person persists (which they do most of the time due to asher’s kind personality ) he will get nasty about it. not crazy like milo or quiet like david, in between.

- “if i need to remind you again i will trust me! i ain’t scared of you.” he’ll be laughing as he says this, he’s to unserious,,

sam:

- sam is also very possessive. he know you can handle yourself but sometimes that side of him makes him want to handle that. he lives in a general dominant nature, sexual or not.

- sam will try to remain calm & trust you can handle it on your own, he is similar to david, doesn’t wish to make a big scene but he isn’t afraid to cause one. he can just teleport away if it gets overwhelming

- he will have similar mannerisms to milo, he will come in being touchy a bit and just glare at the person. his eyes will read a very distasteful message hoping the punk would take their leave understanding your disinterest.

- if not, he isn’t afraid of course to speak up

- “unless you got places to be tomorrow, i’d pick up the pace and swing on out of here.” in a low tone, his accent gets heavier the angrier he gets and the lower his voice is

- he would be very forward about it, he hates beating around the bush. these sort of interactions are quick and direct, he has an intimidating aura about him that make alot of humans turn away, that stomach churning feeling

- “i bet you had that handled sure.” he rolls his eyes as he peppers your neck in kisses. “you’re strong, i know.” he sighs as he nuzzles into the your neck. “but i love defending what’s mine.” he bares his lovable shit eating grin to you as you roll your eyes in response.

[bengiyo]

Only Friends: They Can't Sit With Me

I’ve been trying to find the words to express my consternation about Only Friends properly for weeks. Now that we’ve finished the show, I think I can say it plainly: The show just isn’t that deep, and the characters are unintentionally some of the worst gays you know. They can't sit with me and mine.

In so many ways this show avoided saying much for most of its runtime by just presenting the characters and putting them in situations. This would generally have been fine until the final episodes where the push to marry off the characters within their actor pairs coupled with the decision to punish Boston exclusively for any of the wrongs he had committed this season.

I hate feeling like I must defend Boston, because he was not a good friend to his squad. He introduced Top to their group just to fuck with Ray of all people for some reason. Then he got jealous when Top took a shine to Mew. He fired Ray at Top and Mew, and misrepresented a video he took of them to get Top to hook up with him one more time. (As a note, I also hold responsible for his decision to fuck around with Boston and withhold that information from Mew as well, but we’ll get there.) However, Boston is one of the only people in this show not using sex as leverage over the person he’s with or hounding people about putting out.

I hate that this show kept comparing other characters to Boston when Ray is fucking around with Sand while he’s seeing Mew. Top and Mew are playing their little stupid games about sex the whole time. Nick is pretending to be okay about stuff that he isn’t and using a sex tape as blackmail. Boston becomes the victim of blackmail and revenge porn in this show! Why is he the one who deserves to be punished for anything wrong that he did exclusively while everyone else is in “happy friend land” at the end of this show?

Also, what the fuck was the point of Boeing? They introduced Boeing as like a final boss but he revealed NOTHING about any of the characters, especially Top! Force did such a thankless and difficult job in this show only to get stuck in an enigmatic character that we can never get a secure read for. Boeing showed up and seemed like he was more of all of them, and we learned nothing because of his intrusion, and he gets rejected in the most perfunctory way possible as the final source of drama. Disappointing.

As I reflect on this show, I wish it had been episodic instead of a serial. The problem Only Friends has is that in the end it becomes a single story that took 12 weeks to tell. All this drama was so aggravating because these homos DO NOT have each other’s backs. Mew helps Boston out of a sticky situation just so he can be morally superior to Boston. Top helps Ray out of a situation and many of us thought that Top could have been the one who called the cops on the party! Cheum decides to castigate Ray AS HE’S BEING ARRESTED FOR DRUG POSSESSION. Cheum accuses Boston of assaulting her brother under false pretenses, never offers him a real apology, and then thinks that Boston should abase himself before the group at the end. If this show had been episodic, each episode could have been about a gay issue within this group and resolved itself within the episode while continuing larger arcs.

I feel like the angst between Boston and Mew went to waste. Why are they jealous of each other? Why didn’t they hate fuck? Mew is a virgin and Top was his first time. Why did we not unpack how Mew views himself after having sex for the first time? He had been holding out for so long and we never spend time with him really understanding how sex impacted him. Why wouldn’t he touch Ray at that point? Sure, he was never into Ray that way, but what is the core of his sexual preciousness?

This show spent the entire final episode taking a victory lap around Boston losing everything and celebrating these dysfunctional ass couples getting together, only to end on a scene of Mew being interested in Mix’s character as Top looks on worried. What a terrible place to end. We never understood Mew’s thing about sex and especially Top. We never understood Top. After dunking on Boston one final time, we end on Mew wanting to flirt with someone else? Terrible.

These people are still young, but this is not what community looks like. These characters are mean to each other in a way that makes me really worry about the shit that this queer team had suffered as they came of age and entered the scene. I believe in queer community. I believe in helping the people in our spaces even if I don’t like them personally. Even at their worst in Queer as Folk, those guys and gals had each other’s backs. Where was that energy here?

They are truly terrible friends. In so many ways, I was grossed out about the way a bunch of homos turned on the slut in their group only to end the show on a game of spin the fucking bottle where they made Sand make out with Top. It feels so weird that a group of queer people essentially ostracized one of their own for failure to conform with monogamous norms. NOT A SLAY.

Beyond that, I feel like most of the cast didn’t even get to play against type! Khaotung playing drunk so consistently was impressive, but he’s always been a pretty, rich, shit stirrer in most of his roles. First is always a grumpy simp. Book is always the virgin. Force got to be a jerk in a really fun way, but we never understood the interiority of his character. Mark and Neo got to do different stuff, and I really hope Neo gets an award for the way he fully embodied Boston.

I had a lot of hope for this show, but in the end, it will just be remembered as an amusing romp that fell flat in the back half for me. With that, I am done with Only Friends, and hoping to be done with GMMTV in a while, honestly. Between this, Hidden Agenda, Dangerous Romance, and a Boss and a Babe, I’m quite over it.

We wrote so much about this show trying to mine depth from it and the well was too shallow. It’s alright for us to admit that this show wasn’t that deep. We can admit that it was just a lot of fun for a few months. “This show is fun” (read: easy to fap to) and “This show is good” can form a Venn diagram, but that is not a circle. You gotta know when to fold ‘em.

[jadeazora]

A bit of review/overall thoughts for the Teal Mask.

Overall, a much better attempt compared to DLC1 of SwSh. The Isle of Armor was pretty cool, but the storyline was pretty bland overall. I found the story much more engaging here, especially when we get the true story of what happened between the "Loyal" Three and Ogerpon.

Speaking of the new Legendaries, the L3 are interesting with how much intelligence they show (from knowing how valuable the masks are and traveling across regions to get to Kitakami to clearly planning their revenge on Ogerpon right in front of you and Carmine) and how they might have been corrupted by the Toxic Chain. Ogerpon is also really cute with how much personality she shows. I feel SV really did a great job with bonding us with our Legendary partners overall.

Also with the Loyal Three, there's a number of interesting guesses about how they came back to life. My initial assumption was that it was something like them feeding on Kieran's anger and resentment to reawaken themselves, but there's also the theories that he was possessed by the Toxic Chain (we do see a purple glow travel up his arm during the scene if you pay very close attention, so it's possible this is where he would be possessed) and the rumors of the crystals from the Crystal Pool possibly bringing the dead back to life, since Carmine mentions a rumor where people have met those who have passed away there, and Kieran was hanging around with the Mask that had been imbued with those crystals.

(As an aside, SV has very much of a corrupted wishes vibe, from the Professor and their vision of a utopia would cause an ecological disaster to Paldea, to the Loyal Three wishing for beauty/power/intelligence when they made contact with the Toxic Chain at the possible cost of their morality, and how Kieran wishes to become stronger than the player but falls into his obsession at the end.)

Honestly, Kieran's launched himself into being one of my favorite rivals with the game seemingly building him up as a problem for the Indigo Disk storyline, but it's neat how the siblings undergo a complete reversal with how they view the protagonist. He's also a pretty decent challenge, with a fully-evolved team of six in the low-mid Lv70s all packing held items. (If you're doing this after you completed the main story of SV.) He puts up a much better fight than Geeta does, for sure, and I hope he gets to meet your base-game rivals in the next storyline.

Carmine is also really fun, especially when she starts warming up to us, but I do hope she gets called out for her earlier treatment of her brother, and how she started this whole mess by lying to him. Like, I don't think he would have felt left out by us just randomly running into Ogerpon. We thought it was a child until it dropped its mask, we could have just explained that to him. We're the new kid, how would we know any better or what the ogre looks like? I guess she might have been worried that two little kids would just climb up this dangerous mountain at night, but it still lead to more problems.

I loved Perrin's sidequest too, and hope we see her again in the Indigo Disk! Bloodmoon Ursaluna is so cool (already one of my fave Gen9 Pokemon and regional variants), and can actually give you a pretty fierce battle if you go in with a new team.

Kitakami still feels a little empty imo, just like the base game, but there's a good amount of small caves that sometimes have rare Pokemon inside, and places like the Chilling Waterhead that I wouldn't even know was there if not for Fezandipiti. Some other areas are also visually cool, like the Crystal Pool (interesting to see those crystals from Area Zero are showing up in other regions as well) and the Fellhorn Gorge.

I'm really excited for the Indigo Disk now, like full-on brainrot mode rn, and feel the Teal Mask really does a pretty good job of building up the second part of the DLC with all the little teasers we get. (In comparison, SwSh's DLC felt more separate between the two halves.) I feel they haven't shown much of the story aside (from the BB League/battling stuff), so things are probably going to get pretty crazy, especially with certain things the datamine has given us, in Pt2, and I really can't wait to see what happens next!

[illiicits]

Everything will be okay

Hi everyone!

I would like to start by saying this was very quickly read through and I wrote this while I was at work lol. So I’m sorry if it makes no sense or there are really bad mistakes. I’ll try to come back and fix them. Thank you for reading it and I hope you like it!

Warnings: Azriel x Female reader, some slight dirty talk (not that much), sexual scenes 18+, some cuteness between Az and reader, use of Y/N.

Word count: 5060

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You couldn’t help but envy the beautiful Acheron sister’s. In your opinion Feyre was enough. The Acheron female had infested your beautiful home with something you couldn’t quite understand. You got along just fine with the women, Often hanging out and lending your time to entertain her when she calls. Close friends is what you’d say you are with feyre though mostly one sided at times, on your part.

When the inner circle went to hybron everything went down hill. Chaos was the only word you could describe the event with.

Utter chaos.

Nothing went the way anyone thought it would; especially when evil human queens decided to play with life all for nothing. When two more Acheron sisters showed up out of nowhere you didn’t think much of the effect either of the two newly added children would bring to the inner circle.

When Hybren pulled his stupid little cauldron stunt you were at a disbelief that two arguably already pretty girls turn into stunning gorgeous women.

Watching both the girls stand soaking wet amazed you. The whole experience was a sight to see.

You didn’t not envy the two newly fae women. While beautiful and elegant looking none of the fae could come close to comparing to your kind.

You, yourself, are of rare beauty and pure power. Something the creatures of the world wouldn’t understand if you explained in detail.

You watched sweet little Elain find her mate right away. You watched the fire, hatred filled Acheron sister find her lover too. You couldn’t help the displeased look cross your face at that time. You couldn’t help but to slightly hate the two young sisters who suddenly became so in your face, much like Feyre. You had set aside and locked away your possessive side for Feyre regarding Rhys.

You never had any romantic relationship or feelings towards the high lord. He simply became family after he saved you years ago. You were possessive of all the inner circle, Rhys, Mor, Amren, Cassian, and Azriel. They all were Your family. People you loved and people who returned the love back.

You got along with all of them. Bickering with Cassian, and Mor. Shopping with Amren at times when she could handle socializing with the group, and bringing her food supply when needed.

Azriel though, was a whole other level. We sat in silence in the library, we bickered , we fought and argued. We dance in Rita's, something the shadow singer is not fond of doing and he’d sing with me, though very rarely during the dead of night. When we both happened to meet on a balcony or rooftop of the home.

We’d sneak glances and run off to hide away from the world for a little when things got boring or too intense at times.

His shadows grew fond of you, often eloping you in them and seeking you out when you’re close enough to the shadowsinger. Sometimes, you swear you could hear them whispering the faintest of words to you. Nothing you can fully make out but by the way they were acting you could guess good things.

During Ameranthas rule Az’s demeanor changed. Always brooding, always grumpy, always looking for work; for ways to rescue Rhys. Trying to find a way to sneak in and get him out, maybe even burn the whole damn mountain too. It had killed him during the first couple years the high lord was gone. It took little piece from Azriel.

But somewhere in the last 50 years your relationship flipped. Not somewhere, you remember the night you had crossed the border of friendship into something more. When your whole life changed.

It started in the first few years Rhys was under the mountain. During Starfall.

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“Azriel! Azriel!” You shouted down the hall trying to keep up the pace of one foot in front of the other. It was proving difficult to do in your lilac floral covered gown. One you had gotten just to impress the damn man, one you had gotten just for this star fall.

“Azriel, you big Illyrian baby! Stop running away.” You called to the shadowsinger, a tall frame descending down the hall. A door joining the hallway had slammed shut, you knew it was his bedroom. The only time you went in it was when he had invited you, so you both could share the silence. When he did invite you into his room you’d both more times than not just sit reading out on his balcony or watch the stars shine over the city.

Coming to a halt at the dark wooden door, you stood there hand on the handle catching your breath. You damned your shoes in your head reaching down your leg to your ankle where the straps of your heels sat. Unbuckling them you gathered the pair in your hands and swung open the door.

Az hadn’t turned the lights on yet leaving you slightly blinded by the darkness that engulfed his living quarters. You knew the layout well enough and with the faint glow of the stars leaving traces of light flowing through the arches dividing the bedroom and the balcony, you made your way towards the handsome man.

You sucked in a little breath of cold air, cooling the slight burning sensation you had endure running to catch up. Stopping for a second to take the sight in, you watched Azriel wings flutter with irritation, watched how his back rose and fell with each heavy huff of cold air he let through to his lungs. His back was facing you, top half of his body leaning over the railing his forearm most definitely crossed. He lifted his head and stared at the sky for a couple moments.

He looked transcendent under the starlight. His shadows circling around his shoulders, across his wings, his back, sneaking around his ankles and legs.

Your Eyes narrowed in on the winged Illyrian. You stomped your way over to the tall form. Halfway there you threw one shoe at his back. “What the hell was that Azriel?” You question throwing the next shoe right after. They hit him with a thump and then fall to the ground with a clack.

“I can’t believe you did that!” You yelled in disbelief. “On all the nights, you decided to get moody and be a jerk, you had to pick His favorite holiday, you had to pick the one night we celebrate regardless of him being gone” your frustration rang out into the night stars.

You stopped behind him. Expecting him to hold out longer, but his voice filled the air. “Go away.” Az’s voice felt like it fluttered out into the night air. “No, I’m not leaving, you’re acting like a brat!” You voiced. “ a- a dick! You could easily have ruined the entire night for everyone.” You argued back letting a huff of air leave your lips at the end.

“For fuck’s sake Y/N” he spat out turning around qucikly to face you. “Learn to quit, learn- learn to stop being so goddamn stubborn and pushy!” He yelled back frustrated, running his hand through his hair.

You stood there searching his anger filled eyes. Looking at a man so clearly broken, looking at someone who his whole life hid his pain and suffering from the rest of the world, the rest of the inner circle.

You watched him suck in air and blow it out quickly. His chest rising and falling each time he took a deep breath. Your eyes softened at the sight.

You reached out slowly grabbing a scared hand in yours, “Az, I know it's hard. I know you wish you could do something, anything at all to save him, to - to bring him home.” You spoke softly, barely a whisper afraid the shadowsinger would bolt if you decided to speak full volume again.

“You-” a sigh left your glossed lips. “You need to let go sometimes Az”.

“I don’t.” He replied harshly. “It’s my JOB to be aware, to- to protect everyone.” He ripped his hand from yours stalking towards a lounger.

“I have to keep searching for a way. It shouldn’t be taking me this long to find a way to save him Y/N.” Azriel plopped down on the edge of the lounger. "I'm trying and I’m failing.” He admitted placing his arms on his knees and his head between them.

Your heart ached seeing this warrior so wounded. After fighting battles and doing some of the hardest spying, seeing some of the worst things, hell experiencing the worst. He still feels that everyone else’s trauma is bigger than his.

Walking towards the warrior you reached out and grabbed his hands again. Holding both of them to your chest. “Azriel listen to me.” You spoke trying to comfort your favorite shadowsinger. “You need to let go, you need to learn to live your life sometimes.” You pleaded softly. “I know, trust me, I know that it’s killing you not being able to save him, we all feel like that Az.” You admitted squeezing his hands a little. “We just- we just, I don’t know, we still live. It’s hard and we all are still trying to figure out a way, but azriel you’re not doing anything to help yourself. You stress and stress with no way of lightening the load, or- or even to just relax for a little bit.” You claimed staring down at the beautiful man.

Azriel looked up at you staring into your eyes. He searched your beautiful face. Debating on if he should continue with his delightful thoughts that somehow snuck into his mind. Even though just moments ago he was upset and angry with himself. When you bent down to meet his eyes he caught a glimpse of your cleavage being shown off, more so tonight in the dress you wore than other outfits.

You wanted him to let go and to relax for tonight he could do that. He already knew what he wanted, and has wanted for a little while. He just never wanted to cross that boundary with you. He never wanted to keep something so safe yet completely corrupt in his life. And maybe it was the way you cared for him or maybe it was finally the realization that Rhys may never come home and he should just go for it because he no longer knows if you could disappear next, Or maybe, just maybe it was the tasty fairie wine he consumed earlier that he finally let go of his worries.

“Ok” Azirel's deep voice reached your ears.

“Okay what?” You questioned back. Running your fingers over is his hands you hold in yours. Small delicate fingers tracing rough scarred skin. Azriel even in your heels, that lay by the fence where he stood before, towered over you. The man very much was a giant which worked well for his job for the night court.

Anyone in their right mind should be scared in general of the warrior that sat before you, but you never once had experienced that terrifying feeling people claim they give him. You’ve never once felt like azriel would hurt you. You knew no matter what that him and his shadows would do everything in their power to keep you safe. You don’t know why you felt like that with him. More so than anyone else. You always passed it off as a gut feeling, or being extremely well in tune and good friends.

His voice cut through the small gap of silence that fell between you two. “Ok” he’s hands pulled out of yours.

His hands he had just removed from yours slowly moved to grab the sides of your hips. Bunching the lilac covered dress. You sucked a sharp breath in, air filling your lungs as you looked down at the godlike man with a questionable look casted in your eyes. Hazel eyes filled with lust looked over your face glancing down to your chest that looked bustier than you normally do, then they trailed back up to meet yours.

Heat quickly traveled across your body and up to your cheeks tainting them a light pink. Az hummed, a deep dark sound of approval when he looked at you.

“Will you help me relax tonight Y/N?” He questioned pulling on your hips; bringing you between his knees. His scarred hands lowered to rub the sides of your thighs. Heat began to pull between your thighs as you breathlessly responded to him. “Az? What are you- what are you doing?” Your hands moved to sit on his shoulder bracing yourself from the tug.

“You’ve taken up more of my thoughts than you should Y/N, more than any other woman has before.” His deep voice spoke. “You frustrate me to no end. I watch you smile and laugh and it makes my day so much better. You ease my worries and to help dim the pain and stress I have.” Az stated. “You make me happy and I have fought and fought and fought myself over and over again. Because I’m scared that I’ll end up ruining you with my issues. That you’ll end up being burned and scared.” He continued. “I’ll chase you away.” He choked back a noise in his throat threatening to escape.

Silence filled the air as you tried to understand what he said. Finally you said “you’d never be able to scare me off.” You confirmed. “Nothing would ever force me to stop being here for you, nothing ever.” You exclaimed. “You worry over silly things sometimes.” You remarked with a light smile on your lips.

He leaned forward and kissed your hip over the fabric of your dress. “You don’t know how many dirty thoughts have crossed my mind tonight”. “Watching your lips wrap around the rim of a glass, watching your tongue darting out to lick the frosting left over on your lips.” He looked up. “I’d love to have that pretty mouth wrapped around me.” Azriel said, a smirk starting to make an appearance on his face. His admission sent a shiver through your body and heat building between your thighs under your gown.

You’ve thought about the shadow singer on nights where it was hard to fall asleep. Other times when you’ve had too much to drink at Rita’s, you’ve always been a shamelessly flirty drinker. Often during those nights you’d be dancing with the spymaster after you begged and begged for him to dance with you, something he never usually indulged in, but he could never bring himself to refuse you especially when once he said yes you’d grab his hand with a giggle and the biggest smile would be plastered on your face for the rest of the night.

Most times, you’d end up going home leaning on the tall muscled man talking his ear off as his shadows danced around you. Azriel would drop you off at your bedroom door and bid you a goodnight. Those nights you’d always end up tossing and turning in your sleep so you’d always end up in the dead of night with your hand between your thighs whispering his name.

You breathlessly let his name fall from your lips.

“Yes Y/N?” He questioned back.

His hands slowly lifted the sides of the dress up the pads of his fingers dragging across your smooth skin. Goosebumps raised across your arms and legs. Something so delicious about his scarred hands against the silk of your leg made a small sound escape from your throat. Azriel cupped the back of your knees dragging you forward guiding each leg to sit on the sides of his pure muscle thighs.

You sat on Azirels lap. Breathing heavy and clenching your thighs. Not believing that this situation was in fact real. You begged yourself to wake up from this dream.

Scarred hands stayed under your dress slowly moving them from behind your knees to the sides of your thighs. You felt like you were burning from his touch. That if you looked down under your pretty lilac dress you wore just for this man, the one you're sitting on top of thighs on either side of, that you’d find your flesh melted away, right there where his hands gripped your thighs so tightly it stung.

His hands traveled up higher to your hips. Placing both hands in a tight grip and slowly moving you; once, twice, three times. He slowly guided you to roll your hips with his hands.

Your eyes slowly fluttered shut at the euphoric sensation that started thrumming in your body. Radiating from his hands to your hips then through your body, down your legs, up the sides of your torso to your heart.

“Did you wear this just for me Y/N?” He questioned.

“Did you wear this lilac flower dress that fits you so well to show off those perfect round tits and your silky legs just for me?” He questioned with a deep growl while he fingered the slit open exposing my skin to the cool air.

“Hm, Y/N? Did you dress up just for the terrifying shadowsinger? To get his attention, to please him?” He spoke again.

Not liking that you weren’t looking at him,or replying to him when he questioned you he roughly grabbed your throat, fingers splayed around your neck and on top of your jaw. You not responding irked the spy. He would never let his questions go unanswered in such a serious situation, this was a very very serious situation, so he’d get the answer out of you.

His eyes narrowed on your face watching the pure bliss and lust fall over your pretty features as you rolled your hips on your own. He jerked your jaw down using the fingers that stayed slightly over your jaw.

“Open your eyes Y/N. Open those pretty sparkly eyes for me and you are to not close them again.” He commanded. “You hear me Y/N?” Azriel’s firm voice shook slightly, something you definitely didn’t notice yourself but he felt it. Your eyes fluttered open slowly, you stared down at Az with sparkling lust filled eyes. A small sound emitted from your throat when he squeezed it slightly, trying to get you to answer his questions, to follow his commands.

“Yes, I did.” You gasp out while you slowly roll your hips every so often, begging and commanding for something more. “I wore it just for you, I wanted you to look at me; see that I dressed up for you, I got dolled up for you.” You confirmed. You gasped out when you rolled your hood just right hitting a sweet spot ober and over again. “Hoping, no- no praying you’d notice how I wore one of your favorite colors. Just for you, Az.” You continued staring into his eyes watching them deepen with want and some sort of dark twisted need.

You swing your arms over his shoulders, one hand going into his hair at the nape of his neck, tugging softly at the silky back hair. Az let go of your throat moving his hand to cup one of your breasts over the sweetheart neckline of the dress.

He moved closer to your body. Scarred hands squeezing your hip in one and your breast in the other. He leans forward his lips making contact with the top of your smooth mound. You sucked in a sharp breath, your body is in overdrive. You felt his mouth kissing over your mounds giving each one the same amount of attention. Licking, and kissing, sucking the top each sending heat waves everytime he did. He finally let up his assault on your chest with a quick pop and a slight jiggle of your breast.

Azriel moved to fully sit back in the lounge. His movement fixed the location of how high you sat on top of him. You felt his warmth beneath you; right under your own. You bucked your hips once, twice enjoying the feeling of him pressed into you. Azriel watched as you slowly built your arousal, his rough skin rested on the silky thighs rubbing them- squeezing them. He reached behind you tugging on the lace of the corset that held your dress up.

“Az” you moaned out so softly; barely audible his eyes snapped back up to yours as the top of the dress fell down exposing two very nicely rounded breast. Your Nipples harded from the cold chilly air hitting the warm sensitive beads. Azriel’s eyes darkened watching your chest rise and fall, he swallowed, enchanted at your beautiful body. He always knew you were wonderful. He knew something delicious always sat under your clothes.

He breathed out a breath just anticipating see you all fully under him one day. Cause after he’s had you once there’s no way in hell he’d let another touch you how he will tonight. No one else will ever again get to hear your soft moans and gasp.

Grabbing the sides of his face making him look up into your eyes. You spoke softly “kiss me Azriel. I need- I need you to kiss me.” Az didn’t bother responding to the request verbally as he felt the uncontrollable urge to just have you and need to consume your breath. He wrapped his arms around your waist and kissed you. Lips wrapping together, tugging and nipping each other. His tongue graced your bottom lip and you instantly opened slightly to allow his tongue to dart into your mouth to dance with your own. Kissing for minutes only taking breaks to catch your breath then you got right back into it.

Az’s hands went down to your ass gripping it to guide you to rock back and forth on his clothed cock. Tired of not having enough to feel, you reached down between your thighs to the buckles that kept Azriel tucked away. Pulling at them you finally got them free. Azriel helped you out by pulling his hardened cock out the confinement of his pants.

You looked down between the two of you. Watching as Azriel’s hand that’s wrapped around his length moves up and down. Watching as his head slightly starts glistening with pre cum.

“Such a dirty girl.” Az’s voice cut through the air. Azriel was watching you as you stared at what his hand was doing. “You like watching me touch myself princess?” Az questioned you. You hummed in response, briefly looking up to meet his eyes before they returned back to the show.

Azriel was a big man who was very cocky in his fitness and abilities. You’ve heard the rumors and giggles of the girls talking about the three winged men and their size correspondence of wings. You couldn’t help but giggle slightly at the thought that all the girls were in fact telling the truth when they’d whisper to each other about what possibly hid underneath these warriors' leathers.

“Be a good girl and touch yourself for me” Az stated. You didn’t listen as you moved your hips instead. Back and forth trying to get some sort of friction to help soothe the growing heat and need that was building even faster now.

Azriel let out a lightly growl of frustration when he suddenly took hold of your wrist. “Be a good girl y/n and touch yourself, like I asked.” He angrily said, taking the wrist he was holding with a firm grip as he moved it to the spot between your legs.

Your delicate fingers met with the heat and wetness that had been building that had soaked into your lacy fabric. You slowly took your fingers and ran them over your heat quickly before settling your middle finger over your clit. Light and airy moans escaped you as rubbed clockwise circle movements on the small sensitive bud.

“Just like that baby, you’re doing so good for me” his gruff voice praised. Your eyes fluttered shut as you worked yourself up to a blissful state. You completely disregarded his earlier command of keep your eyes open and he didn’t seem to mind either. “Az!” You moaned out breathlessly going faster.

“Fuck Azriel, oh Az” you cried out throwing your head back.

Azriel aggressively removed your hand from yourself taking quick actions to quickly remove your lace thong. As soon as it was off he quickly continued your earlier actions with his own. Scarred rough fingers met smooth delicate skin as he used his thumb to continue the torture on your sensitive clit. “So fucking pretty, you’re so pretty gods.” Azriel praised. Causing you to grab his wrist between your thighs as your hips started following the movement. Trying to build the sensation of flutters and bliss more.

“ I need mo- more” you whined out in the night air. Bringing your eyes to look at the shadowsinger below you. “You need more, what babygirl?” He questioned eyes darting between his hand touching your wetness then back to your eyes. “Come on love, use those words otherwise I won’t know what you want.” He teased.

“I need you.” You whispered out.

“What’s the magic word princess?” He taunted. “You know I’m not giving you it until you say it, so what do we say love”

“Please Az, I need more” you spoke looking into his eyes. “I need you, please, I want you, oh gods please Az please. You begged breathlessly pushing his hand down and away from you as you lifted your hips up.

“Fuck baby girl, you sound so fucking desperate for me.” He moaned.

Azriel moved to wrap his arm around your middle pulling your bodies closer. He used his other hand to pump himself a few times before running the tip of his cock through your wetness back and forth. Holding you tightly to him, azirel turned his head to kiss from your shoulder to the dip in your neck, up to your jaw and to your plump lips. He claimed your mouth with his as your arms came to rest on his muscled shoulders.

Azriel pulled away, breaking your intense kiss. He rested his forehead against yours as he softly spoke “ if it hurts, or if you want to stop at any time tell me.” He kissed the side of your cheek. “Okay? y/n” he questioned.

You smiled at the man before you “okay Az”. You gave him the green light. He gave you one last kiss before pulling back resting on a hand on your hip while the other held him at your entrance. He slowly helped you sink down onto him.

“Fuck!” He cussed. “You’re so fucking wet for me” he hummed. Moving his other hand that had helped guided him into you, to your sides. He gripped the flesh tightly causing you to cry out.

You felt yourself stretching around his cock as you slowly guided yourself further down until you had his whole length filling you up. You looked down between your bodies catching a glance at his cock disappearing into you as you slowly started bouncing up and down. Your walls gripping him tightly.

“Oh gods Az. Fuck, baby” you moaned to him.

The sound of the two of you filled the air around you. Deep grunts and breathless Moans circled into the night. The cool crisp air helped cool the both of you as sweat started building across your skins.

You kissed Az as you picked up the pace. Bring the both of you closer to your ecstasy. He wrapped both of his arms around your torso giving him leverage to relentlessly meet each one of your downwards movements with a forceful thrust of his own causing him to hit that little sweet spot inside of you.

“Cum for me.” He commanded between his moans and cussing.

And you did.

You cried out in pleasure as he finally pushed you over the edge. A blissful and content feeling finally settling over you as you road out your high waiting for the shadowsinger to find his release too.

When he did he pulled your body closer to him wrapping his muscled arms around your body. Hugging you close, with his head in your neck. He kissed your neck a few times as his pace started to slow. You listened to his ragged breathing that was fanning over your skin causing goosebumps to raise across the entirety of your body.

Azriel kissed up your neck and finally claimed your soft lips with his. Kissing you sweetly and passionately, he slowly brought both of his rough scarred hands to rest on your sides. His thumbs rubbing soothing circles on your soft skin. You both didn’t say anything, too high from the release you both very much needed.

Suddenly the sky lit up bright and you looked up. Azriel stayed staring at his beautiful lover. Watching as the bright spirits reflected a soft glow off her eyes. A smile graced his lips as he watched her own grin start taking over her face. He felt something tug deep within him. Some undeniable force connecting the two of you together.

Suddenly something smacked the side of her cheek. There sat upon her rose tinted skin sat the spirit’s glow. when her eyes met hazel ones she giggled. A wondrous sound Azriel deemed to hear for the rest of his life. More spirits passed them, some flying past without a care for the two, while others when they passed by showered the two with their glowing light.

Soon the two lovers were covered with a star-like glow. Staring into eachother eyes they laughed, with bright big smiles.

You leaned forward lining your face to meet Az’s. “Everything will be okay.” You whispered softly to him.

“Everything will be just fine” Az replied as you wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him sweetly.

┆.➶ ˚ ˚ · • . ° . ˚✧ . ➶ ˚ ˚ · • . ° . ˚✧ . ➶ ˚ ˚ · • . ° . ˚✧ ┆ ┆.➶ ˚ ˚ · • . ° . ˚✧ . ➶ ˚ ˚ · • . ° . ˚✧ . ➶ ˚ ˚ · • . ° . ˚✧ ┆ ┆.➶ ˚ ˚ · • . ° . ˚✧ . ➶ ˚ ˚ · • . ° . ˚✧ . ➶ ˚ ˚ · • . ° . ˚✧ ┆

[mythicalgeek]

Addressing how Persephone is sexualized in Lore Olympus.

Soooo... here's the thing, I LOVE Lore Olympus. I love the art style, the magic, how it mixes greek mythology with the modernday and it's reimagine of the character's, that it's not afraid to deel with sierous issue and I relate with Persephone on a very personal level. I found the webtoon at a time when I really needed an escape from things happing in my life and Lore Olympus was there comfort and inspire me.

I have a lot of love for this webtoon, however... there's some problems I had with how Persephone was sexualized in the first season. There were moment's where she was viewed in a fetishized male gaze that was ... not great 😖 (case and point 👇)

This portrayal unfortunately falls under the sexy baby trope and I found this very strange and out of place in a story that is suppose to a feminine retelling of greek mythology.

Now I dont mind that Persephone is sexualized since she is of age and it's a part of her character arc. Her story is about gaining agency after being sheltered her whole life and understanding her sexuality is a part of that. Her reclaiming of her trauma and sexuality is one of the reasons way a lot of people enjoy the webtoon and can relate with this verson of Persephone.

So why is she portrayed under the male gaze in a way that does not support the core of her character? It's especially worse when we are seeing Persephone through Hades eye's, witch doesn't help since the age gap is a controversial topic in the fandom and a lot people think that LO is pedophilia, and these moment's didint help the romance or Hades as a character.

And that sucks because as far a retelling of the Hades and Persephone myth goes, I acually like how most of there relationship is handled and the age gap dose not bother me as mush, mostly because I think that Hades is somewhat emotional stunted do to his trauma and that him and Persephone are at the same level intellectually, and a lot of there relationship is quite healthy albeit some what codependent. It definitely is not perfect and I do wish that the romance could have been handle defiantly at times, mostly with the framing and the language that they use in some scenes.

I've seen some people compare Lore Olympus to Twilight and Fifty Shades of Gray and even though there are some similarities ( both having a young woman discovering her sexuality and a immortal or rich boyfriend/ husband), but the core difference is that Hades is not abusive or possessive twords Persephone and treats her with respect.

Lucky with season 2 and 3 the gross male gaze moment's where mostly removed and we saw more of the female gaze, (not just because we got more shirtless Hades 🤭) but because of how Persephone is portrayed sexually. (case and point 👇)

Persephone isn't fetishized like she is in season 1 instead she's shown as powerful and has agentsy over her own boby, the focus is more on the intimacy, connection and longing between her and Hades and when we do see Persephone trough Hades eye's she's viewed with tenderness and seen as a beautiful desirable women and not a sexy baby. Also it should be notice that after the ten year banishment Persephone is thirty year's old when she and Hades gets married and have sex for the first time.

This some what redeemed Lore Olympus for me and even though the webtoon it far from perfect there is nothing wrong enjoying and finding value in this story as long we view it with our brain's turnd on.

Just to be clear this not a anti Lore Olympus post, I am simply addressing one of the problematic aspects of the webtoon because I feel like we should acknowledge it's flaws while enjoying the story and characters.

[wickmitz]

what do you think mitzi’s type in men is?

hmm, this is a fun little ask! especially since her love interests, on a surface level, couldn’t be more different. we have :

zib : former long term boyfriend but not quite … they were very loose with labels, as we know from outside information and the way zib lives life in general. but despite this, whatever feelings fostered between them were intense ; enough so for him to stick around years later, resigned to a chained down lifestyle simply because he doesn’t want to leave mitzi. he’s very loyal in that sense! even if it’s not a conventional type of loyalty. we know that before bitterness seeped inbetween their bond that zib took good care of her, while also being a complete mess of a person ; someone perpetually scared whenever physical conflict is concerned and being a musically inclined man who very much treats himself as a free spirit, with a morbid philosophy and feel towards life. he’s got a major tortured artist aesthetic!! is a little gripped by melancholy and nostalgia … zib is a lot of things, and ambitious is surprisingly one of the many puzzle pieces that make up dorian zibowski.

atlas : ruthless gangster, has an eerie presence that frightens even the people closest to him. he is prone to a more quiet disposition ; never speaking and always a blot of unremarkable grey. but he is an opportunist! someone who can manage a business and take advantage of shortcuts and loopholes to become even more successful … basically he is wealthy and uses his assets well. but all of this is done with a manner of distance, leaving even those closest to him never having the full picture of who he was. it’s also worth noting that mitzi and him had eventual problems, which caused her to seperate. also perhaps has a heart of some kind, but whatever love he possesses is hidden under layers of blood and mystery.

wick : well-to-do bore, and i say this with all the love in the world for wick! but compared to previous paramours he’s rather clean and talkative … there is a constant earnestness to him that bleeds out, an honesty and a more conventional sort of kindness. he doesn’t hide behind smoke and mirrors and there’s never really a front he puts up around mitzi -- or his investors for that matter, hence why he’s treated as an ‘outsider’ so to speak. he is an alcoholic who loathes the details of his job but is more than passionate about the job itself and makes this everyone’s problem … he is a little helpless, in the sense he’d die without someone there to make sure he functions … and is, like zib, perpetually afraid of conflict. can be a little wishywashy and can come across as uncaring due to his cheeky tone … but he’s loyal and caring, with a hobby for the unusual ( bugs and rocks lol ) as well as being able to look past the gossip mill and see the actual mitzi may as he knows her, someone who’s going through a rough time and is either too kind or classy to be a brutal killer. he is hypocritical, a little snobby, and rather forward with mitzi too. kind of a flirt when he wants to be!

something that immediately stands out to me when looking at this lineup is that mitzi doesn’t enjoy a violent man. i don’t think she loathes someone who can so brutally or clinically remove others from this earth, but if she were to go for someone they’d usually be sweeter in a sense. it meshes well with her old personality and kinder heart, perhaps brings it out in her, and that sort of levity and breeziness is more enjoyable than, say, being fully aware of the dangers that lurk around every corner because the man you’re beside is prone to bringing it. she also enjoys more talkative types, someone who’s less quiet and demure and serious, and is keen on her men having a hobby they care deeply for ; some sort of long term goal to work towards doesn’t hurt either. and because of some scenes in the comic, i’m a firm believer that mitzi wants someone who can make her smile or laugh with ease, whether because they’re ridiculous by nature or genuinely funny! she has a sort of funny bone herself, enamored with gallow’s humor and darker jokes, so having someone who either a.) reacts hilariously in the face of her jokes or b.) who can return that energy with teasing or their own brand of silly is desirable. everyone could use a good laugh or two, a sense of joy injected into the bustling life they all live, and this all ties back to mitzi being more drawn towards the less stuffy types of men.

so atlas seems to be an outlier when it comes to her type in many ways, hence the later problems they apparently had in their relationship even if she did love him dearly. but, of course, atlas did have something very appealing to her that zib had failed to give, which she rather fondly recalls in the comic page vestige. whether zib likes acknowledging it or not, mitzi wasn’t as gungho about their normad life as he was … or, at the very least, when she lived another life besides that one, she realized she had a preference! and atlas gave her that path, that knowledge that she wanted something else, and seemingly for the very first time in her life … she felt like a proper lady, a feeling that clearly meant a lot to her. it wasn’t just the dresses or the wealth, it was the constant eye of atlas who could have any dame he wanted, but fancied her his wife regardless. it was having someone so respectable looking, dressed well and groomed well, being able to see her as something other than a sweating, exposed girl in a bawdy dress. atlas’s seemingly polite treatment towards mitzi was enough to garner her affections in spite of everything else, so i think she enjoys that now in others, ; folks who treat her as though she’s a woman in high society, men who don’t gawk at her or make lewd remarks immediately … she probably prefers the courting process now and the quaint dates ( that she doesn’t pay for, mind you ) that come along with it. she just -- likes mutual respect, i think. and who doesn’t? she’s been through a lot to get to where she is now, even if it’s a bad predicament, and she’d like for that to amount to something. some sort of acknowledgment, some kind of recognition.

however, it’s worth mentioning that her views on romance and all that it entails have been warped since the death of her husband. such a loss would change how anyone approaches their dating life, if they were to even have one afterwards … after all, mitzi’s whole problem is that she doesn’t want to move on from atlas and has thus completely romanticized him in her head, to the point that she earnestly believes she’ll be miserable forever without his presence. any problems she had with atlas have long since been erased by her tortured mind, leaving her with a profound misery she’s wallowing in. i think she believes herself as incapble of romantic or sexual inclinations nowdays, leading her to view the advances made towards wick as a necessary ‘evil’ for the sake of atlas may and little else -- when she genuinely does like sedgewick to a degree, and wouldn’t go on dates or kiss a man unless some part of her honestly wanted to do so. ( i also think she was attracted to wick somewhat even while married to atlas, but that’s besides the point ) so this is all a rather complicated affair! she is vulnerable and weak, is too aware of herself and the criminal underbelly squeezing in closer … add this on top of her still heavily grieving and having no one she feels she can talk to, you have someone who is rather changed. mitzi is so far removed from herself and who she truly is, or was, that there’s no doubt it’s affected her type ; now she’ll settle for anyone if they’ll just help her, and even then she’d be dispassionate if romantic entanglement of any kind was involved in that relationship. it’s not something she wants right now, and honestly, it all seems scary and daunting … besides atlas, zib was the only other man she’s ever loved enough to stay around for, so she’s never faced a loss like this before. has kept zib throughout all the turmoil and changes -- so this is, as far as we know, her first major loss where it concerns matters of the heart. it’s not shocking she’s so messed up after it, especially given how fresh it all still is. all of this rambling is to say that mitzi’s a little more stingy and cagey then she used to be about love or sex, and she has a lot of inner battles to face before she can fall for someone and be sure about it. needs to thaw, i think, and she would require patience and understanding from anyone who actually wanted to be with her. mitzi could move on with time ( i do not think she’s the type of widow who’d never date again! ) but it would take quite some time to do so. well, in a world where she’s allowed / is able to heal anyway!

while her type would probably remain the same, i could see her wanting a serious relationship more than she did prior to the death of her husband. has no energy for the loopholes, or the rationalizations, or the fickle nature that can grip someone’s heart. she has matured in a lot of ways since her band days and would take comfort in frivolous things like labels and promises of a future, together, as lovers. while what she had with zib was nice and is cherished alongside the freedom to do as she pleased while on the road with the band, i don’t think she misses it. having the stability and assurance of an actual relationship, with all the hardships that come with it, would be better suited for her. as long as she’s treated like an equal of course! i don’t think she’d be keen on her partner hiding anything from her, even if it’s meant to protect her, due to where that put mitzi when atlas was killed. she’d rather know and be disgusted, or worried, or scared than to not know about something at all until it’s too late … again. naturally patience and compassion would also be of importance, as would the usual things she loves like loyalty and a passion for something in life. and while never required, she’d be happy if the person possessed even a singular musical bone in their body! she still thinks artists, particularly musicans, are sexy after all … likes the angst and brooding that comes with it, the slight flare towards the dramatics … as long as they can handle mitzi in her pitiful entirety and do, to some degree, care deeply for her and will compromise … i think she could find some happiness wherever. bonus points if she can live comfortably for the rest of her days too, lord knows she’s tired of the constant battle of hucking and bargaining.

but yeah! mitzi’s love life is vast and complex and i definitely see her as someone who is more flexible in type than other people are. though there are similarities between her suitors if you really look! anyway, i hope i was able to briefly touch upon this subject because my shipping brain loved your question and kinda went into overdrive, alas. tldr ; her ideal type is wick sable. sorry. once wick learns an instrument the wedding is back on!! … i’m kidding lol. well, mostly <3

[hollowed-theory-hall]

Hey I have a question for you if you ever end up writing more meta on wandlore. In book 7 Harry's wand spits flames at Voldemort. The explanation we're given is that it imbibed some of his powers in the graveyard. The problem is it didn't react to him like this when Harry faced him in book 5. I think this is just a plot hole on JKR's part but from an in-universe POV do you have thoughts on what could have caused this? Only thing I can think of is either that Voldemort briefly possessing Harry in book 5 further linked them and/or that in book 5 Harry didn't even try to defend himself because he was taken by surprise and thus didn't try to do anything before Dumbledore intervened. Interesting to hear your ideas.

Hi!

This is a really fun ask, I love me some wandlore! That and one of my favorite pastimes is solving JKR magical plot holes by figuring out the magical theory she didn't think all the way through.

So, the first thing I did was compare the two scenes you mentioned. This is the one from book 5:

“I have nothing more to say to you, Potter,” he said quietly. “You have irked me too often, for too long. AVADA KEDAVRA!” Harry had not even opened his mouth to resist. His mind was blank, his wand pointing uselessly at the floor.

(OotP, 813)

This is the one from book 7:

It was over: He could not see or hear where Voldemort was; he glimpsed another Death Eater swooping out of the way and heard, “Avada—” As the pain from Harry’s scar forced his eyes shut, his wand acted of its own accord. He felt it drag his hand around like some great magnet, saw a spurt of golden fire through his half-closed eyelids, heard a crack and a scream of fury. the remaining Death Eater yelled; Voldemort screamed, “No!”

(DH, 58)

Now, honestly, you're right, if the magic imbued Harry's wand in the graveyard I'd expect it to react to the killing curse Voldemort casts in book 5 the same as it did in book 7. And clearly, it does not. Even when it's the same situation, same spell, same enemy, Harry can't defend himself (if for different reasons). In both, his wand isn't even aimed at Voldemort at first at all.

So, I started wondering what is different between the scenes. Clearly, the situation is almost identical, so what difference could affect how Harry's wand reacts?

And then it hit me: Voldemort's wand.

In the first scene, in book 5, Voldemort is using his own wand, yaw and phoenix feather, brother wand to Harry. In the scene in book 7, the wand Voldemort uses is Lucius'.

So, my theory is that Harry's wand reacted differently because Voldemort wasn't carrying its brother, but a different wand.

So, with this in mind, let's try to explain what Harry's wand is doing and why.

The explanation we get in the books is that the Piori Incantatum in the graveyard essentially "charged" Harry's wand against Voldemort specifically:

“I believe that your wand imbibed some of the power and qualities of Voldemort’s wand that night, which is to say that it contained a little of Voldemort himself. So your wand recognized him when he pursued you, recognized a man who was both kin and mortal enemy, and it regurgitated some of his own magic against him, magic much more powerful than anything Lucius’s wand had ever performed. Your wand now contained the power of your enormous courage and of Voldemort’s own deadly skill: What chance did that poor stick of Lucius Malfoy’s stand?”

(DH, 600)

But I already mentioned here, that I don't think this scene is the real Dumbledore. So, I'm not sure how much faith can be placed in this explanation, especially since when Voldemort carried the brother wand, Harry's wand didn't shoot out golden flames.

(As an aside, I don't think wands can sponge up magic like that at all...)

But I think Harry's subconscious is right about the flames resulting from the multitude of magical connections between Voldemort and Harry. After the graveyard, they are, like, crazy magically connected. We've got:

Soul - Harry has a piece of Voldy's soul because he's a Horcrux

Blood (spirit) - Voldemort used Harry's blood in his resurrection ritual so their lives are bound to each other.

Magic - wands share a core.

And I'm going to forgo talking about the prophecy for this, but it's kind of bonkers how many layers of magic are binding them. And I think this is the key to it all.

So, essentially you have two wizards, that for the intent and purposes of magic, are as close as kin as possible. By soul and spirit, they are an extension of each other. So certain magic (like Lily's blood protection that is based on blood) probably sees Voldemort as an extension of Harry or vice versa. But they are not the same, as Dumbledore said in OotP: "but in essence divided", and other magic can recognize that (like the Elder Wand).

And the wands know this. Voldemort's yaw wand and Harry's holly wand are referred to as brothers, and I think that name is quite telling. Brother wands don't seem to want to fight each other, they share a core so they aren't meant to turn on each other, they are kin, extensions of each other. This is why the Priori Incantatum happened in the graveyard — to stop them from fighting. And if Harry cast a spell in the ministry in OotP, it would've happened again.

I think that first Priori Incantatum did change something and mattered for what happened in book 7. It basically was like an introduction. Afterwards, Harry's wand can recognize Voldemort, his magic, and his wand.

What I think happened with Lucius' wand is not far from Harry's subconscious explanation. The wand recognized Voldemort as Harry's kin, an extension of Harry himself, but he was carrying an unfamiliar wand - an enemy wand. I think the combination of kin with an unfamiliar wand is what caused it. Kind of like a jealous sort of "Harry isn't supposed to be with another wand". The yaw wand was fine because it shared the same core, the wands are connected just like Voldemort and Harry, so the brother wand wouldn't register as a threat.

For the holly wand, being attacked by an extension of Harry with an unfamiliar wand, felt off. Wrong. The magic felt wrong like it was 3 inches too far to the left. And I think that's what it reacted to. To the sense of wrongness that comes with seeing a familiar person somewhere, they really shouldn't be. This whiplash, I think, is what registered as a threat to the holly wand.

We know some wands can be sentient to this degree. Sycamore wands, burst into flames when they get 'bored':

It is a quirk of these handsome wands that they may combust if allowed to become ‘bored’, and many witches and wizards, settling down into middle age, are disconcerted to find their trusty wand bursting into flame in their hand as they ask it, one more time, to fetch their slippers. 

(from Pottermore)

Hazel wands die with their masters:

so devoted to its owner that it often ‘wilts’ (which is to say, it expels all its magic and refuses to perform, often necessitating the extraction of the core and its insertion into another casing, if the wand is still required) at the end of its master’s life

(from Pottermore)

So I think it's completely in line with what we know about wands that Harry's wand would get protective when something in Voldemort's magic feels off due to the unfamiliar wand. On the same page about wand woods holly wands are said to be very volatile and protective, so the behavior fits its personality. I think Harry's wand is protective of him and acts up to protect him when it recognizes it needs to. Voldemort and Harry's connection along with Voldemort using a different wand registered to the holly wand as a threat it needs to protect against.

TL;DR

Harry's wand recognized Voldemort as a kin of Harry. Voldemort's wand is its own kin, and therefore not a threat in OotP. The moment Voldemort, whom Harry's wand now recognizes, used an unfamiliar wand (Lucius' wand) Harry's wand registered him and the unfamiliar wand as a threat and reacted to protect Harry. The magic flames shot out were its own, not Voldemort's sponged-up magic.

At least, that's my theory.

[dekusleftsock]

Hey, weird comparison might be a stretch

Okay angy-grrr (yes I’m name dropping you and I’m not sorry <3333) I think made a comment a while ago about how this whole thing between Afo and Yoichi felt incestual, and I’d be inclined to agree.

However, however however however, I do have a few bits of commentary on that sentiment. Specifically in relationships to this scene specifically.

And, alright, no this is not some bs like “pro incest” or whatever, you can talk about topics that are taboo and not necessarily agree with them. I understand that I’m a shipper but I’m inclined to follow my nose where it leads, and my nose says here. So.

We’ve established a lot that the kanji horikoshi used when Izuku says “Give him back!” Is very possessive. Like an ownership over an item.

Okay, because Izuku and afo share one very weird trait—possessiveness. And for literally a month I’ve written and rewritten a post about how I just can’t get behind the idea of Katsuki paralleling afo, because it just doesn’t fucking make sense.

What is it telling us? That Katsuki has become a better person? We already KNEW THAT. The Kudou parallel says something, it says that Katsuki rises ABOVE the fate of the OFA predecessor because he and Izuku accepted their hearts.

Not only that but what is it exactly that we’re paralleling? Afo is defined by ownership (an Izuku trait), an unreliable narrator (also an Izuku trait)—in my opinion, horikoshi isn’t that simply Willy Nilly about parallels. It’s not about shipping to me rn, I’m literally comparing him to Izuku and how Izuku obsesses over Katsuki, IT JUST DOESNT MAKE SENSE.

Besides, wouldn’t this parallel be made significantly earlier, when Katsuki was still acting like an asshole? The kudou parallel was made literally from the start of his introduction, just because he looked so much like him. We didn’t know why this was the case, theories were thrown, and we’re only being told NOW why this parallel exists. But it was built, very carefully, and served a purpose.

And, to add onto this parallel of at the very least afo and Izuku, the portal is very similar to the floating hand.

Especially with the reminder that Katsuki was taken away by dabis hand on his neck (hands always have symbolism in this series after all, it always has a purpose)

If someone, anyone really, could show me some genuine evidence of afo and Katsuki parallels that isn’t just “Katsuki was selfish about Izuku when they were younger” then by all means

But to me, along with the fact that Katsuki called himself IZUKUS NICKNAME, right before a chapter where afo talks about NAMING YOICHI, ummmmmmmm… I gotta say. Things ain’t looking so great in that evidence department. I guess you could argue that Katsuki did the same thing with deku, but deku hasn’t even been said these past few chapters and Kacchan has so????? Idk.

Anyway, this weird overly attached, incestual, codependent relationship is really fascinating to me. I’m not so inclined to say that Izuku and afo are the same since they very obviously aren’t, izuku is just toxic in his silly goofy ways, but I think it’s an interesting thing to point out.

It almost feels like a “fuck you” to people who have been saying Katsuki and Izuku act like brothers for years. Maybe like Horikoshi is saying, “well I guess if they’re brothers they’re incestual too :)”

And that’s gotta be the biggest power move I’ve ever seen. “Oh you wanna read this relationship in that light? How about I show you what that light would look like if it were true :)” AND LIKE. WOW.

I know anime is not new to incest, but I don’t think this is the “random incest for funsies” type of incest, I think this is the incest built off of actually talking about the taboo. The weird. The not so great things we’ve done as humanity, but that exist anyway. Because mha WANTS to talk about the taboo, things we find morally wrong and therefore don’t belong in our stories, but that just makes them all the more incomprehensible were it to be happen in the real world. Art is made to talk about the stories we wish remained unfinished.

[yumeka-sxf]

A chronological analysis on Twilight and Yor - Part 17

*This is part of an ongoing post series. If you missed the Introduction/Part 1, click here*

----------

After waking up from the comforting dream about his mother, then being thrust back into the reality of his catastrophic date, Twilight's mind starts hyperventilating again. We find out that Yor was the first person to actually knock him unconscious since his training days, more proof that he really does let his guard down when he's around her (which was something he was just starting to realize himself before he passed out).

When she regrettably tells him that she understands he'd want to move on from a wife who only has brute strength, he takes a moment to reflect before responding. We don't get to hear his inner thoughts during this relatively long pause, but based on everything that just happened, there's plenty to infer about what he's thinking and why he doesn't respond immediately.

He just realized that he completely misread Yor at the bar. He threw every honey trap technique he could at her, and not only did they not work, but they ended up making things worse. After all that he put the both of them through, here she is, still feeling insecure about her ability to be a good wife...the very thing he was trying to fix by asking her out in the first place. One would expect that he has no other options left besides giving her the kinds of compliments that have made her feel better in the past, like saying that she is a good wife/mother, that he appreciates all that she does, and that Fiona is just a coworker (which is what he was originally going to tell her before he misread her and decided to take things too far with the honey trap). But instead, he does something completely unexpected, and certainly unbefitting of a spy – he reveals a vulnerable, personal part of his past to her…not as Twilight nor as Loid Forger, but as his true self.

He continues by likening the security he felt with his own mother to how safe Anya feels having Yor as her mother. We know that he's still being truthful here because we see a vision of Anya and Yor in his mind as he thinks that the kind of motherly strength Yor possess is just as important as the work he and his fellow agents do for the country. Another reason we know he's speaking his true thoughts here is because we don't get any of his usual internal monologuing about how he has to say these things "for the mission" – for this brief moment, he's choosing to live truly and fully in the moment.

This is the conversation he should have had with her back at the bar. Because their relationship was never built on standard romantic acts to begin with, but on heartfelt honestly (even if they lie about their professions). He now realizes that trying to win her over with his standard tactics would never work. It's only when he stops trying to be someone that he's not, can his interactions with Yor go smoothly. Compared to the scene at the bar, which was one misunderstanding after another, once Twilight has this genuine conversation with Yor, and stops using manipulation and deceit, the misunderstandings cease. However, there was no reason for Twilight to mention anything about his own mother, especially when revealing unnecessary things about his real life is frowned upon in the spy world. He could have complimented Yor on her strength and how good of a mother she is without bringing up his own past. So there was no other reason for him to open up to her like that other than the fact that he wanted to – in that moment, his desire to trust her was stronger than his spy rationale. For what could possibly be the first time since he became a spy, he wanted someone to know a vulnerable side of him, just as she always trusts him with all her vulnerabilities.

@itsmaferart describes this mutuality between Twilight and Yor very well in this post . To quote:

" Clearly, Twilight has been getting to know Yor and she has only shown him her most honest side: a sweet, maternal, tender, patient woman, with a positive, discreet vision, who puts love and family first. But she also shows him her most vulnerable side: she is shy, clumsy, unsociable, a lousy cook and very insecure.

That has caused Twilight to confide and show himself vulnerable to her on more than one occasion. For they, in part, share many insecurities, the same sense of responsibility and sacrifice. The truth is that feeling so much comfort with Yor has made him more sensitive, but it also makes him develop an unconscious fear that all that beauty is a lie, and he himself is falling..."

As much as Twilight wants to trust Yor completely, having lived a life based on deception after deception, he can't fully shake the feeling that the more honest and wonderful something seems, the more likely it could be a sham. And yet, he still chooses to trust her time and time again. @nitewrighter brings up  the irony in how, because their relationship is based on a mutually accepted fake marriage, that actually works in their favor. Because the marriage isn't real, they have no expectations for each other. It would be a different story if one of them knew the marriage was fake and was tricking the other, but because it's mutually transactional, everything they choose to do for each other – every little favor, every passing smile and encouraging word, every expression of affection both big and small, especially at home where they don't have to put on the facade, is all the more genuine because it's not required for their relationship. This is particularly true for Yor choosing to be a good mother to Anya, which is something Loid didn't ask her to do but he wholly appreciates it.

When Yor still expresses doubt, saying that everything she knows is only because she had to take care of Yuri, Twilight responds by saying that's precisely the reason why she excels at it – because she's been doing it since she herself was a child, she's second to none.

I mentioned previously that Yor exhibits many symptoms of imposter syndrome, one of which is always thinking you're a failure at something even though you actually excel at it, which is exactly how she views her own parenting skills. But once Twilight clearly and honestly tells her why she's such a good mother, and asks that she continue to be Anya's mother and his wife, she smiles and accepts.

As I've brought up many times before, despite everything that happened, Twilight never harbors any resentment towards Yor. He could have been annoyed that she kicked him and embarrassed him in front of everyone at the bar, but as I just discussed, he realized he was the one at fault for trying to push a romantic scenario on her that didn't actually exist. At the same time, Yor could have been upset with him for being so forward with her, but instead, she decided to tenderly take care of him until he woke up. As @piracytheorist mentioned, Twilight was completely unprepared to receive such softness after everything that happened. This was why he was so on edge as soon as he woke up in her lap. But even though he realized he was in the wrong, she still blamed herself and continued to see her brute strength as a flaw. This is why telling her the story about his mother was so important – the strength that she sees as a flaw is something he greatly admires, so much so that he's willing to reveal such a private memory to her.

The fact that he did this not only indicates his willingness to trust, but also his realization that his usual "Romeo" tactics won't work on her. Gentleness and honesty (as honest as a spy can be at least) are what she responds to. He realized that by doing the opposite at the bar, everything went wrong. If he had simply gone through with his original plan of telling her that Fiona is just a coworker, things would have turned out fine. But instead, when he thought she may have romantic feelings for him, he decided to take advantage of the situation with a spontaneous honey trap, which backfired right in his face (or rather, chin).

When they finally return home, Yor has a continuation of the revelation she had at the end of the cooking lesson episode. There, she realized how happy she is being in the Forger family. And now, she realizes that she's too attached to it to willingly leave it behind. This explains why, back at the bar, she couldn't bring herself to tell Loid she wishes him well with his new wife – she was willing to accept that turn of events in her mind, but her heart was refusing.

I have to say that at the end of this story arc, Yor is ahead of Twilight as far as coming to understand and accept her own feelings. As I just explained, she now understands how much she loves being in the Forger family beyond just her cover up. But Twilight still has yet to reveal any new feelings or thoughts about Yor and Anya from all this, so we can only infer. Obviously he's shown that he trusts Yor enough to tell her a personal detail about his real life, and he truly wants her to continue to be his wife and Anya's mother. But we also know that he misinterpreted her kick as a rejection of his romantic confession, when in reality it was just her misdirected emotional outburst due to him coming on too strong, and her being too drunk. So at this point in Twilight's mind, even if this incident has deepened his feelings for her, he still thinks she rejected him. Like I mentioned before, convincing himself that her kick was a rejection is a convenient way for him to not have to confront his emotions further…but for how long, only time will tell.

Continue to Part 18 ->

<- Return to Part 16

[biipbop]

I feel like my Jun hc doesn't align with fanon Jun.

Like I compare him a lot to Ruan Nanzhu from KoD but I really do see them being the same kind of brat. The kind to act cute and docile while snickering in the background. And to a degree if you see him snickering it means he probably likes you to some degree to see the real version of him.

I like the idea of Jun being cute towards Tatsuya and getting him to flirt in front of other people. Tatsuya would be shy about it at first but want to indulge his boyfriend. Jun would want him to do it both because he's possessive ("uwu isn't my boyfriend sooooo handsome? Well keep looking cause he loves me and only me") and because he wants to tease his boyfriend. Tatsuya would soon come to realize this and of course would just lay it on thicker and try to get his boyfriend to blush.

He and Lisa would be best friends in the long run but have the most toxic mean girl start before realizing they're so much more powerful together. They're both outsiders so they get the need to be a certain level of mean especially towards people who act on bad faith. But they wont realize that until they're adults. Until then they're friends but they do try to outshine each other and fight over a boy. When lisa eventually gets over Tatsuya she'll try and flirt with other boys. Jun would have 0 interest in them but would 100% flirt with them just to one up Lisa. It would be a problem between him and Tatsuya. It would be their first real fight as a couple. And a good growing moment for Jun.

When they're adults and more well adapted Jun and Lisa will be able to sit down and have a difficult conversation where they'll be able to forgive each other for their actions when they were younger. It'll be the start of their best friend era. They're the kind of best friends who will call each other everyday just to see how their day went. Lisa would be the one to teach him to express himself through fashion. He would have a secret interest in visual kei thanks to eikichi. Lisa would be the one that teaches him that clothes have no gender (in the future when eikichi Tatsuya and Jun start performing Jun would be iconic for his outfits)

Eikichi is protective of Jun and Jun takes full advantage of that. "My big brother can kick your ass" leads to Eikichi getting his ass kicked more often than he wants to admit before he starts working out. His first and only attack is lifting Jun over his shoulder before hauling ass out of the scene. Jun is all devil horns when it comes to Eikichi. All his fights would never be against bigger guys. He would instead target girls (mostly Lisa) knowing eikichi would not fight back.

Eikichi is also unfortunate in that he never really understands that his bros are dating. Not in the sense that he doesn't know Tatsuya and Jun are dating but in the sense that he doesn't realize they're on a date and he just wedged himself between. It becomes a problem early on that the two can't get alone time between Lisa trying to sabotage their dates and eikichi just being there. Jun, in hopes of making eikichi understand, would start some excessive pda. Eikichi still would not understand. He at most would turn his back to them before continuing the conversation. Eventually this is just normal to them. On tour during their broke era the 3 would share a room. There would be at least 3 incidents where tatsuya and Jun would have sex in the room with eikichi in the room before they all realize maybe they need to set boundaries. They never actually set boundaries.

Also, miyabi is very aware of all this. The need to set a boundary is brought up by her. ("I don't think either of you would be comfortable with Eikichi and I sleeping together while you're trying to sleep" 3 confused faces would stare back at her "but Id be sleeping?") When in highschool Jun would plan double dates only for Eikichi to show up alone. Jun would later learn that if he wanted Miyabi to show up he would have to plan the double date through Miyabi. It isn't anything intentionally malicious. Eikichi just thinks they're having boys dates forgetting that the other 2 boys are boyfriends.

With Maya Jun is pure sugar. He goes full baby boy energy. Maya knows the horns are there and can see it when adding another person to their interactions (especially Tatsuya. As cute as he acts with Tatsuya he can't help but tease him and Maya can see it clearly). He can never be a little mean to Maya so Maya teases him knowing he'll never do anything back.

This is all super rambly but I have no other idea how to express how I see him besides trying to get across that while he's a pretty boy he'd also be a stinky boy. The kind who wears all black and steals his friends clothes. He knows how pretty he is and the older he gets the more he uses it to his advantage to start drama and walk away. He would be the type who would see someone checking him out and if they have a partner would come up to flirt and then walk away from a disaster. The type who gets himself into trouble and then laugh as they away with the person who came to save him.

The type who would be a nightmare teenager that smokes and drinks and goes out late at night. Not sneak out because he lacks the adult supervision but would for sure be out late at night. Probably sneak into Tatsuya's room if Tatsuya can't sneak out, or go to music venues with eikichi if they can.

And as corny as it is I love the idea of them becoming more tamed with becoming a parent (bc y'all know I love that flower child au). Tamed not in the sense where they suddenly become perfect parents but in the sense that they would work hard to hide the fact that they smoke. Going to extreme measures to make sure Akira never catches them smoking. Eventually Tatsuya would quit and Jun would follow just because he wants to be a supportive husband. Jun would regret all his social media posts and fame when Akira gets older. Everyone jokes how Jun is being punished for his own antics when Akira takes after him personality wise (dramatic and bratty).

[spookykoolkat]

kinktober | lucifer, my love - e.m.

kinktober day twelve - somnophilia

pairing: eddie munson x plus size!reader

wc: 3.8k ish idk

summary: your boyfriend was rising to fame quickly with you still behind the scenes, by choice, and you were still unsure about him. was he truly the devil your family claimed him to be? should you cast him out and cleanse yourself from his abominable lifestyle? or will you give yourself to him, worship the devil you were taught to hate?

warnings: 18+ ONLY! minors are not welcomed. this kind of got a little away from me heheh sorry! talks of religious trauma, talks of the devil, unprotected sex (p in v), somnophilia, knife play, cutting clothes off, cutting, dirty talk, extreme *to me lol*

not proofread. also very very far behind pls forgive me omg.

reblogs, likes and comments are very very appreciated i love everyone's feedback!!'

⛧°｡⋆༺♱༻⋆｡°⛧ °｡⋆༺♱༻⋆｡°⛧°｡⋆༺♱༻⋆｡°⛧°｡⋆༺♱༻⋆｡°⛧

YOU DIDN'T HEAR YOUR BOYFRIEND get home from rehearsals, too late at night for you to be awake to greet him. eddie had been to rehearsals every day for five months, forcing the two of you to rent an apartment in new york, near the studio he went to every day. you didn't know how he did it, seeming superhuman in some aspects.

he was getting ready for his upcoming tour, one that wasn’t going to be too long since he was touring in the UK. even though it was five more months away, you noticed how tired eddie would be. whether it was sound check, rehearsing, eddie having to oversee most things managers would since he was in between. 

you even offered to take that position over, but you weren’t fit for the publicity. you liked being in the shadows, being the girl eddie talked about in interviews but never specified. he let everyone know he was taken, for good, but never said who you were. unfortunately, eddie had insane fans, even occasional groupies you’d try to ignore when you face timed him on the tour bus. 

this time, you were going on tour with him. this was your entrance to the world, and you really didn’t know if you were ready for it. you told eddie you liked being the mystery girl, the one no one fully corrupted with their image of what eddie’s girlfriend would look like. you were safe. and he kept you safe.

many people told you to forget about eddie in the beginning don't act on the man who saw you in a bar and couldn't leave you alone after that. especially when he's got the devil's star on stage with him, a ram's head glittering in silver hints around his neck, the subliminals in his music — your friends and family told you he was lucifer, the devil in disguise, temptation at its finest.

church girl from rural texas, into a city girl that's surrounded by the devil's music. music that tempted, possessed, brought on this earth by the devil himself to spite. your mother forced you to believe, everything that wasn't the way she raised you, was evil. sinisterly waiting to tempt you, to steer you from the path of god almighty, to keep you as a servant to satan himself.

god was testing you, apparently. find the will, find the way.

to the world, had they known you fell in love with a man who covered himself in blood before sets, other than your closest, you'd be tainted by the devil. you worried it'd be bad for his image, but he only said it'd boost it. innocent church girl falling into the well he carved out for you.

but he usually had his ways of comforting you. in every situation, telling you that no one could compare, not even coming close to you. that the only god he worshiped was you, anything coming close to having faith in something. he was devoted to you, and he knew your family. he knew they'd never agree, but he told you it was okay. he'd be your family.

that’s why you never questioned waking up with him inside of you, you never complained in fact you encouraged him. you wanted him to wake you up like that, just so you could give him what he wanted to ease the stress he had lingering. to be as close to him as possible, it’s only something both of you craved. 

he made sure to mark you up in every way he could, and you allowed him to do so. you wanted to see how much he was yours, how much he wanted to be yours and to belong to you - not some other woman who was probably a whole hundred pounds lighter than you. maybe even more.

you didn’t feel the bed dip either, eddie laying beside your practically naked body as the moonlight shone in through the large windows. he couldn’t help himself, not when he has your full consent for him to do as you asked when you were asleep, and ran his warm hand over the curve of your body. 

you were admittedly a heavy sleeper. clapping, slapping, picking your arm up and letting it fall, nothing woke you and eddie even found it a little scary at some points. but, somehow eddie still found himself being gentle. 

maybe you are the devil. lucifer, satan. what if you called to him just enough times? was this because of him?

you were only in your little panties that bit into the fat of your hips, ones you said you were throwing out since you had a hole ripping at the seam and they got a littleee snug on your hips and sex. it only made eddie drool more, they were cutting into the fat of your ass, your hips and creating an indention that eddie teased around. 

instead of sliding them down your legs like a normal person, eddie figured it’d take too much work to work them down your legs. making excuses in his head, he pulled out the pocket knife he always carried in his back pocket. 

these are already tearing, what’s the harm?

you can always buy her new ones, she always liked the comfortable ones. 

she wouldn’t mind? i mean they do look a little uncomfortable. 

devil's son.

just to take the blade, scraping it along your thighs and to your ass cheek and slipping under the fabric to cut through. all he had to do now was shift, rolling you on your back softly as you moaned a little in your sleep. he took the blade again as he sat on his legs between yours, scraping it along your thigh and pulling through the cloth. 

all you had now was your sports bra that was a little too tight just to secure your breasts, and a little voice in his head began to make excuses again as he took the blade and fixed it in your cleavage, cutting through the fabric to expose your nipples. 

eddie loved your breasts. you always talked about a breast lift or a breast reduction, eddie told you he’d have your bras custom made if you really wanted it. eddie told you to let him hold them for a bit to give your back a break, to let him take care of you for a bit. 

anything to keep your breasts just as they were. 

you thought they were saggy, he thought they were full and perfect to shove his face into, to love. it was a bonus that they were all his.  

it was making eddie throb in his pants, against the confines of his underwear just begging to make its way between the lips of your cunt. he figured he’d just slide them down to the muscles of his thighs, and let his cock spring free above you. 

he is evil, dark shadows that swallow you whole, he is that.

the thing is, you were already soaked from making yourself cum not even an hour ago. you were up thinking about eddie again, wishing he could touch you the way you did, thinking about every time he pressed into you to make you cum.  

all eddie had to do was raise your legs, heavy with unconsciousness and spread your glistening cunt. you loved this. he kept reminding himself, remembering the way you begged for him to take you as he pleased, whenever he pleased unless you said so. 

eddie always respected you, and as he stroked his cock and guided it to nudge between the slick lips you broadcasted to him, slipping against your clit and making your eyebrows twitch — he left kisses on your skin, planting them on the chubbiness of your cheeks, down to your neck and over your shoulders as he felt his cock lather in your juices. 

you’re a lucky fucking man. remember that, be grateful for this girl. you’ll never find another like her, and you know that. don’t fuck this up. 

he was trying to find security in you, make you his just as he was yours. 

and the feeling you gave him, the one that made his limbs go numb as he made himself welcome in the warmth of your cunt, no one else would be able to give that to him. 

to the world he was nothing but metal, death, darkness, and impudent. but with you, he was far deviated from corroded coffin. he was yours, you were his reason for being, for loving, and he was unapologetically soft when you wanted it. 

and what you wanted, what you asked for — you got, because you deserve nothing less. 

corrupt her with your love for all things evil, curse her with your desire to destroy, to pleasure, to crave.

thought you were a heavy sleeper, eddie moved his hips slow, softly as he stretched his hole for his liking. he didn’t feel like he needed to get you ready again since you had your cum still on your fingers, but he was rethinking now before he bottomed out completely. 

you believed you were dreaming, a wet dream you came up with in your subconscious that you were hoping was true. it was blurry, but you could feel it. your body was responding to something, and it moved and squirmed as you tried to get more and more. 

until you started to hear yourself whine and moan, no longer feeling like you were asleep, not with heavy pants and winces above you hitting your face. not with feeling cold air hit your freckled areolas, your legs bent to fit another person between them. 

eddie’s thrusts got snappier, his palms resting against the bed on either side of your head, rutting into you like an eager man. you were clenching unknowingly, and as your eyes began to flutter open and mouth began to hang open a little — eddie’s cock throbbed inside of you. 

“e-eddie,” you broke, your voice husky with sleep and confusion. 

“hi baby, i’m – fuck – home, i’m home,” he cracked, and your legs almost opened wider, almost instinctively wrapping around his bare waist. 

your eyes looked between his dark ones and to where you two connected, just to see your bra was cut in the middle and your panties are gone. something twinged inside of you, suddenly everything was achy, like his cock at his slow pace just wasn’t enough. 

is he the devil?

“your knife,” you moaned out as your arms wrapped around his, feeling the heat under your fingertips and grasping at every part of his pale body to feel him with your own hands. 

“i’m sorry about your bra, baby, and your panties. couldn’t fucking help myself,” he growled, still looking you in your eyes, occasionally glancing down at the waterlike movement of your breasts. 

“use it, wanna feel it, your knife,” you said in a haze, not sure if the words you said were the ones you met. 

did you welcome evil to consume you the way he did as he lay above you?

you were half asleep, drunk off of eddie and how delicious the stretch he imposed on you was, and somehow throwing the word knife in the mix felt right. 

eddie sat up on his haunches, still buried in you and you bring your legs to your shoulders, bent at the knee so your feet were grazing against his shoulders. he glanced around the bed and found the black steel blade, grabbing it and guiding the pointy tip of it up your hip and against your thigh. 

“what do you want, baby? i’m sure you don’t want me to hurt you with this, do you?” he asked innocently, except he felt the way your cunt clenched and nearly gushed around his girth. not only did he look between your fluttering hole to your eyes, but he brought the blade right down to the curve of your thick mound. 

you invited it, you felt enveloped by the dark, wanted by the devil, just as you want him.

he was scraping the flat part of the blade against the sparse curls of your sex, watching as your eyes shut and your hips squirmed. your cunt sucked him in like a vice, something he wanted to remember for the rest of his life as your eyes flutter between consciousness. 

the blade traveled to your inner thigh, up the skin and back to your fupa, over the roundness of your belly and to the cups of your breasts. the knife was sharp, eddie could attest to that, but the answer you gave him silently when he asked you what you wanted him to do with the knife was tempting. 

“want me to mark you, baby? make you mine?” he asked and sleepily, you nodded. 

your cunt was producing obscenely wet noises, hearing the air that seeped inside as he thrusted manically. the blade went over your peaked nipples, to the underside of your breast and he decided to trail the blade down your tummy with a little bit of pressure. 

it didn’t take much to see the small break of skin he caused, forming a pink line almost down to your navel. the sting was sharp, as if getting a tattoo, but surface level enough for the blood to dry almost instantly as it formed droplets at the cut. 

“eddie,” you slurred, the air burning its way into the thin line of hurt, making you his. 

“want me to stop, sweetheart? or do you want me to keep making it hurt?” he asked sweetly, almost sinisterly as the blade scraped over your skin. 

if he was the devil, why does it feel so satisfying?

it was painful, the searing burn of the cut down your tummy, but it was almost electrifying as you felt eddie’s cock pump inside of you. 

you’d be terrified if another man took a knife to your body, but eddie — you’d let him do whatever he wanted. 

as your eyes opened again, you grabbed the hand that held the pitch black knife and used your own fingers to position his hand to fit the blade of the knife against your throat. 

“m..m..make me cum,” you hummed, stuttering with submission, letting eddie bring his face closer to yours as his hips punched into yours, chasing something of his own. 

seeing you like this, almost limp in his hold as your eyes fell heavy enough to fail at keeping them open, cockdrunk and trying to keep him all to yourself, it was easy to get to his point of release. 

so with the blade to your neck, his own memory of branding your skin with a cut down your stomach stinging with his love, he lifts himself again to press two calloused fingers onto your nub. eddie uses the slick gathered in a ring around his cock, gushing all around him enough to spread it over your clit in firm circles. 

he watched as the blade pressed into your neck, the way your hips lazily bucked up into his palm as his thrusts got erratic and disorganized — it was sending his cock to throb and jerk inside of you as you felt heat creep down your body and your muscles tense with pleasure. 

it was lust, greed, gluttony — you should feel disgusting. god would never take you as is, god would diminish you to nothing for lying with the devil.

“cum on my cock, sweetheart, let me see – oh fuck – let me see all of it,” he felt your hole squeeze him in response, and made him take the knife from your throat and threw it somewhere on the bed as you started to babble incoherency. 

“g-g-gonna, gonna cum, gonna cum, eddieeee,” it was slurred, soaked in sleep and haze as you tried to come back into full consciousness but your eyes were still heavy, still laced with pleasure, too much to find the strength to keep them open for him. 

but eddie’s eyes were on you as you came around him, milking his cock like your life depended on it, taking all of him in your tiny hole with your legs shaking around him until he gave three last sloppy thrusts inside of you and burst with flames, leaking all of his release inside of your walls. 

the guilt, the religious trauma, it should haunt you, haunt you as the devil would stalk the vulnerable.

his favorite place to be, was inside of you. any time he could, he’d bury himself inside of you until you were crying tears to be fucked. and watching you squeal and squirm for him as you tried to push him off from the pleasure being too much, it made his release snap. the coil broke, and it made his cock twitch inside of you, his cum invading your hole and coating you entirely. 

so after his release burned with warmth inside of you, so comfortable, so homey, he collapsed on your thick body and snuggled his cheek against the stickiness of your breasts from the sweat and took his hand to grope one and stay there. 

“eddie,” you mumbled, voice still raspy with sleep and your orgasm. 

but nothing could haunt you more than the love you have for your lucifer, nothing could be compared to selling your soul to him, for the love you have for your lucifer.

eddie just looked up through his lashes, winced and apologized as he slid out of you to leave you cold and empty. you felt cold all of the sudden, and eddie got up to get a wet rag and cleaned between your legs with no resistance from you, and decided to just lay down next to you as he pulled the sheets over your two bodies. 

eddie wrapped his arm around you as you stilled on your back, your breathing going back to a normal rhythm and your eyes still fluttering open and closed. 

“how was practice?” you mumbled, not capable of correcting yourself. you were so dazed, like you were getting high for the first time again, still very out of your mind. 

“mmm, baby, terrible. terrible practice, but it’s alright. i’m here with you. let’s go back to bed baby, yeah?” eddie dismissed. 

he felt it was too much to say that everybody but him was an idiot. because you’d probably prove him wrong. 

“you cut my clothes off,” you mumbled. 

you didn't mind the work of the devil. he was yours, and only yours after all.

“you can cut mine off too, if you want,” he grinned against your bare shoulder and rubbed your tummy. 

“i’ll remember that.” you slurred, deciding to cuddle back into your boyfriend, grateful you didn’t spend another night alone. 

“i really hope you do.” he whispered and kissed your shoulder, closing his eyes as he felt you shift more into him, getting in your usual position. 

this was all he needed. he didn’t need the fame, the money, the music. he just needed you, and he was planning on trapping you with a ring or a baby soon. very soon. and he knows you’d love it, because you’d be his completely. and that’s all you needed in a world where your boyfriend was the one everyone wanted or hated.

no one understood him, you said. he was too complex for the world to fully grasp other than throwing the theory that he's given himself to be used as a vessel for the devil's work, they said. the scary thing was that you believed the rumors, and you still fell into his trap.

when eddie was the one held responsible for his demonic persuasion, being the cause of revamping the satanic panic, his 'rituals' being pushed by his songs, and you were the one that was willing to love the devil unapologetically — you could not fear your lucifer.

for your lucifer would fear you.

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TAGLIST

@awilderi @nerdieforpedro @cyb3rluvvxx @joelmillers-girl @pedritoferg @bethanymccauley @subconsciouscollapse @teyamsgrl @dirtydianaahah

[the-mononoke-facade]

So I had A Thought okay

So with Nusu you can see that markings on him go beyond what's on his face, he's got marks on his neck, going down to his chest, disappearing under the robe and implying that there's even more that is there but hidden from our eyes

Shusu has a scene toward the end of Kama Itachi that makes a point of describing the marks winding all the way around his skin after his robe (or more) comes off even before we ever get a description of Hyper (I still have yet to figure out why he loses his clothes at the end? I assume it got taken off to draw attention to the markings but like the actual what happened that he decided it was time to show off his skin is still a mystery to me lol)

But with show Kusu, you can see the bits of skin where you can see markings on Nusu but he does have any that are obviously visible, just the markings on his face (if anything, that red stripe on the neck has been taken off his body and converted into those red prayer beads instead, as if putting some more distance between him and the sword by making it something he wears instead of something tattooed into his skin). And of course, he could still have things under his clothes that we don't get to see, but as far as his flesh goes, we get his face and his neck and collarbones, and then sometimes his sleeves get pushed back to show a decent amount of his arms depending on how he's moving them and there's nothing there (especially when compared the markings that swirl like bands all up and down Hyper's arms; Hyper's got inherently more intricate markings and it shows when comparing their faces, but even then would it be so much more sparse on Kusu if they're meant to have similar markings on their skin?)

Anyway, I'm not a hundred percent sure where I'm going with this thought yet, but assuming markings on the skin help to bind a wielder to the sword (maybe for more effective possession), it might have some interesting implications

[mentally-ill-for-bes]

Blue Eye Samurai Analysis Episode 1

As a clarification, the series of this analysis will be done chapter to chapter, having so many parallels between chapters there will be, spoilers. Many spoilers possibly.

Now, as another clarification, I’m not a Japanese person nor someone related to Japanese culture, therefore this analysis will go around narration and characters arcs and parallels. This being said, everything shown here is my interpretation of the show, I'll be more than pleased to talk about different opinions since it's done with respect.

And the last clarification, I will be referring to Mizu as she/her, since it’s what creators and producers refer to. This isn’t intended to invalidate headcanons or other interpretations.

btw, i don’t know how to do gifs, therefore this will be much less visually pleasing than I would like it to be, sorry!!

Now, let’s start!

The first shot of the show is fire, which will be seen later in the relation of fire with Mizu (and later with Akemi); now, fire acts like a visual opposite of the snowflake on the screen. Fire produces warmth, and snow produces coldness.

We continue showing scenes that show the visual opposites of warmth and coldness.

And the paragraph that set up our story.

“In 1633, Japan closed its borders to the outside world. Completely.

Citizens would never see a white face, nor any face that was not Japanese.

A child born mixed race would be considered less than human.

Pitiable. Impure.

Monstrous.

From these times rose a legend.

Of a swordsman. Of a sword.

Of revenge.”

And the way Mizu is introduced is in the snow. Visually, this teaches us her color palette, which is comprised of different tones of blue. But this also makes us relate her not to the snow, but to its coldness. This is reaffirmed by the style of the title, which is blue. Mizu is blue.

Then, she enters the noodle shop, where Ringo is presented in this lightless atmosphere in gray tones. He has a short and unilateral conversation with Mizu. The fact that Mizu doesn’t answer anything nor raises her head to at least see Ringo reaffirms her coldness. But this interaction shows us how despite his violent father; Ringo enjoys serving noodles, he’s satisfied when Mizu devours all the bowl, he enjoys helping.

However, the catalyst for the friendship between her and Ringo is this scene:

“What are you? A dog? You let a dog serve food!”

“Told you. Round eyes. Like a dog”

Sure, Mizu empathizes with Ringo because he’s shown as this sweet and kind character but also because she sees a lot of herself in him. They’re both ridiculed by being compared with dogs for things they cannot control: Mizu for her eyes, Ringo for losing balance, and spilling soup (due to Hachiman being aggressive to one of the girls he bought). At that moment, Mizu wasn’t strong enough to defend herself, but now, she’s strong enough to defend Ringo (and to get the information she wants at the same time).

The next thing we know is that Mizu has been looking for Hachiman due to his possession of a European gun.

“Of course, I’ve heard of you. Never leaves a village without buying one of its daughters.”

Because Mizu doesn’t just empathize with Ringo, but also with the girls he bought.

The next thing we know is that Mizu cuts Hachiman’s fingers, first the index and middle finger then cut the ring and little finger. First, the fingers used to hold a gun.

Then, the fingers he used to slap Ringo and touch the girl’s face. It’s curious how she cuts all the fingers but the thumb, especially when the one who sold the gun is Heichi and then they’ll introduce us to his collection of thumbs.

+ She cutting the fingers resonates with the scene when she cuts Heichi’s hand, but that’s for later!!

Then, as we know, Ringo follows her, she sees in her someone great, but not for her ability with a knife but for her ability to stand up for others. Sure, Ringo says he wants to be a samurai like her and it that moment, he wants that. But Ringo’s arc goes through being great and how, not being the same that Mizu but for being great by his own qualities and strengths.

However, now, Mizu represents a hope for him, a hope that an outcasted as him as be something great.

But Mizu doesn’t want friendship or anything that can deviate her from her purpose.

She found a temple and her pray is clear:

“To a man lost in the dark, an ember can light the way. Thank you for my ember. I was lost without course so long. Please. Let this ember’s light brighten a path from this Heiji Shindo to the men I seek. Please guide my steps until I find them. Please give me the strength to kill them. Or let me die.”

This helps us to understand her character, she has a purpose in life, and it’s achieving it or death. But she won’t let death reach her, literally is need a stronger one that lets her die, because she won’t permit herself that sacrifice.

We pass to a Mizu’s memory of her childhood, where a bully (we’ll later known as Taigen) and his gang persecutes her around the town while it’s raining, more elements asociating Mizu to water.

Mizu’s wearing handmade glasses:

Nice reference to how the first models of sunglasses were, the first sunglasses were created by the Inuit.

Going back to the memory, Taigen’s wearing an orange kimono, even when his representative color as an adult is green.

Interesting, since in color wheel orange is opposite to blue.

So during childhood, Taigen’s definitely an antagonist to Mizu, but once they’re both adults, he’s represented by green. Green is closer to blue than orange is, so I interpret this change of colors as the ability of Taigen to change. During childhood, he’s an antagonist role, but being an adult, he’s at her side (during battle and in the color wheel, lol). And that’s what Taigen’s arc is about, about changing for the better, it wouldn’t surprise if at some moment he starts getting dressed in blue to symbolize he’s at Mizu’s side. Or going back to orange, symbolizing the opposite.

The next character introduced is Swordsfather.

He’s showed under blue lights, his clothes looking blue. Different from Taigen, he’s at Mizu’s side.

But the next thing is shown about Swordsfather is fire, he’s under warmth lights, his clothes looking brownish.

Swordfather’s home is mix between warmth and cold lights. He’s in the middle of it.

This talks pretty well about the duality of the character, Swordfather isn’t associated with a color or an element but metal, metal can change and be rebuilt over and over again. He’s warm and cold at the same time. The same duality that Mizu will have to learn at some point.

But something to notice is that Mizu’s glasses are yellow/orange, while her whole dressing is blueish, only thing that has a warmth color are her glasses. The glasses she use to hide his identity as a racial mixed person.

And the scene!! This obviously puts a romantic background with the gentle music and the slow-mo, but it’s also useful to establish the opposite color palettes they have. While Akemi is surrounded by golden and warmth, Mizu is under the snow, surrounded by cold.

Even when it’s snowing outside, she’s surrouned by golden lights, dressed all in red. She’s associated with femenity, his kimono has flowers in it and she has butterflies and flowers in her hair, accessories made in gold. Totally different to how Mizu’s shown, dressed all in blue but her glasses, with much simpler accessories than Akemi, even when gold is a metal, Mizu’s shown manipulating silver metal’s. They’re opposites.

She’s talking with Seiki about how to talk to her father:

Even when she dislikes his advice (with fair reason) lilting her voice will be something will see she uses against men, like a woman who intends to get what she wants; when she talks to her father, when she meets Mizu, when she talks to shougon’s son.

“—When you speak to him, remember to lilt your voice.

—So, I should speak like a child

—Or like a woman who intends to get what she wants.”

In the end, she convinces her father to allow a marriage between her and Taigen. Saying how he sees a part of himself in Taigen. (If my father ever said he sees himself in my partner I would honestly run lol)

When Taigen’s presented on screen, he’s dressed in green but the scarf, this reminds me of how during his childhood (when he’s totally antagonistic to Mizu) he’s dressed in orange. In the color wheel, green is opposite to red, Akemi’s color, the only thing in Taigen’s outfit that brings him close to Akemi is his scarf and the comb Akemi gives him; both things that will be taken by Mizu.

But we’ll talk about that in the next episodes, for now, let’s focus on Mizu.

Shindo Dojo has a yellow uniform and all the room is iluminated, contrasting Mizu with her blue outfit.

Before defeating all Shindo Dojo, Mizu has a interesting memory about Swordfather, the lines I think has most impact in the narration are these.

“—What is a sword?

—The soul of a samurai.

—It is a line. On one side of the line is life. The other, is death. The edge we forge cuts the line between life and death.”

And this scene:

“—No man can tame this cursed metal.

—Perhaps it doesn’t want to be a sword.

—All metal wants to be a sword.”

It’s our first introduction to a figure of the 4 white men, and the whole background is blue, being in a castle in the water, which I take as a reference to Frowler’s castle in the water but also this bends the things Mizu’s is associated to her “demon” state. Not by an omnipresent narrator, but by her own narration. She doesn't see herself as half-demon half-human, she sees herself as a total demon.

Ending with the memory, she has the coolest fight with all the dojo, until Taigen appears, literally wearing Akemi’s gift, at this point we know that he’s 1. Proud of being Dojo’s champion, 2. Proud of his engagement with Akemi (in that order in specific). He wears his gift as (in my interpretation) a show of power over Mizu, they’re exactly in the same positions as during childhood, Taigen’s standing up looking arrogant and Mizu’s on the floor. But this time the result is different.

In both moments is Taigen who throws away her glasses.

In another great scene of fighting, Mizu gets the information about Heiji Shindo and she cuts Taigen’s hair. Cutting his hair removes from him his status, identity, and the chance of getting married to Akemi. At the same time, he's turning him into an outcast, now ignored and rejected by the masters who praised him before. He goes from being benefited by the system to being affected by the same system he supported and contributed to.

And as I said, Mizu literally takes the comb that represents Taigen and Akemi’s compromise and throws it.

In a more personal sense, it shows Mizu’s empathy along with women. She understands their struggles and she does what she can for them.

At the end of this episode, even Mizu’s sword has a nice edge that looks like waves. This sword is an important element in Mizu’s narrative, as she said, the sword is the soul of a samurai; and even when Mizu doesn't considerate herself a samurai, others do; Ringo considers her a samurai, even Taigen (even when he doesn't admit it) do it. Otherwise, they wouldn't have had a duel the way samurais.

And her sword is just like her, "no man can tame this cursed metal" is what Swordfather said, as no man can tame (what people consider) a cursed human, "perhaps it doesn't want to be a sword" said Mizu, she doesn't want to be a samurai, she wants revenge. But all people keep perceiving her as one.

What will happen to Mizu's sword is what will happen directly to her soul.