#tw: needles

[pretzel-box]

MDNI | TW: Body Horror, Detailed Graphic Description of Gore. Mention of Needles

Tags: Established Relationship, Devotion, Obsession, TW Tags above

Words: 2,2k

Sebastian Solace could hear your faint breathing in the silence, another form of melody that graced his ears. It was calming and invited him to pause from the burden of the daily life and dream instead. He was sure, your presence alone is like a bright shimmer at the edge of his void world, not blinding but so unbelievable radiant, a glow that pulls him towards your existence like the moon that beckons the tides.

His gaze lingers a bit longer than intended and yet not long enough to satisfy that hunger in his soul. He traced the curve of your form, with a fleeting glance, as you sit at the desk, lost in the pages that stretched out before you. Each turn of the paper is a soft whisper, a delicate flutter that harmonizes with the quiet rhythm of your breath. You are unaware, absorbed in the world between the lines, stories and memories, yet your every movement feels choreographed by the stars themselves—effortless, graceful, like a long lost dream.

Sebastian watches, mesmerized by the way your fingers brush the edges of the book, gentle as if you hold something precious. The faint light spills across your skin, casting a soft halo that wraps around you, an ethereal glow that seems to exist for his eyes alone. In the stillness, you are his celestial body, his guiding star, unknowingly illuminating the vast, shadowed corners of his heart.

Even the way you tilt your head, lost in thought, feels like the subtle pull of gravity, drawing him closer, though he remains in the quiet distance. He wonders if you can feel the way the air shifts around him, how it hums with the silent longing he tries to contain deep inside him. You are his solace, his steady beacon in a sea of darkness, and though you are unaware of his gaze, every part of you seems to call to him, softly and irresistibly.

The way your voice wrapped around his name sent a shiver down his spine, a sensation as delicate as the brush of sunlight after a long storm. "Oh, Sebastian," you had said, and it was as if the very air he breathed had shifted, softened, warmed. There was a tenderness in your words, a gentleness that seemed to cradle him, filling the empty spaces inside his chest.

Your voice, like the wind, swept through the quiet room, curling around him in invisible tendrils, soothing, comforting, and undeniably real. If sound could embrace, then surely this was the closest he'd ever come to feeling human warmth drenched in love. It enveloped him, like the gentle embrace of arms he longed to know. Each syllable lingered in the air, thick with sweetness, as though the very essence of your being flowed through the sound, leaving a trail of honey in its wake.

"Dreaming as always," you teased, your words lilting in a way that felt like a dance. "You surely got your head in the clouds." And oh, how right you were. He was far beyond the realm of mortals, his thoughts soaring high, lost among the stars you unknowingly filled his world with. His heart, caught in the sheer comfort of your presence, was suspended somewhere between the heavens and earth, weightless, adrift. You were not just the pull that grounded him, but the entire sky he yearned to float within, a cosmic force that kept him both dreaming and awake at the very same time.

He smiled faintly, helpless under your spell, for every word you spoke was like stardust falling gently into his soul, filling the dark spaces with light. You had no idea of the gravity you held over him, how your voice alone shaped his universe, a melody that kept him tethered to you, even as his mind wandered through galaxies made entirely of you.

Time passed, yet not a single day saw Sebastian’s love fade or waver. It flowed endlessly, like the ceaseless currents of the ocean, drenching you with his quiet, unwavering devotion. His love became a part of him, woven into the very fabric of his being, shaping every thought and action. He was ready to forsake even the simplest of pleasures, content to immerse himself entirely in the depths of your existence. Every movement, every breath, every word he spoke seemed to carry your name, a silent vow of his love that coursed through him like water through the veins of the sea.

"Hold still," he mumbled softly, his voice barely more than a whisper, soothing and gentle. There was no command in it, just a quiet reminder as he held the sharp silver needle between his large, grey fingers. The metal gleamed faintly in the light of his glowing lure, casting soft reflections across the water. He carefully threaded a piece of red string through the needle’s eye, makeshift and fragile, yet it was all he had. The first aid kits he’d scavenged from the Blacksite over time had long run dry, leaving him with no choice but to use whatever he could find.

Your arm lay before him, a deep gash marring the skin, crimson blood flowing down in slow rivulets, like rain sliding down a windowpane. It pooled on the floor below, dark and heavy in the water. Sebastian’s chest tightened as he worked with quiet precision, his fingers moving deftly, though the sight of your blood filled him with a deep ache.

He wished for better tools, for a world where you would never be hurt, where his hands wouldn't have to stitch your wounds with makeshift threads. But this was the Blacksite, where even tenderness had to survive in the cold, unforgiving depths.

His focus was entirely on you, though he remained silent. He didn’t want you to feel the weight of his worry, the way his heart clenched with every drop of blood that spilled. His touch was steady, careful, as if you were more precious than anything else in this forsaken place. And to him, you were.

Painter’s digital face flickered on the nearby navipath screen, his expression shifting to something indescribable—an emotion too complex for mere pixels to convey, especially on this tiny screen next to the door. He observed Sebastian with a silent intensity, studying the careful way his grey fingers moved as he worked on you. His glowing eyes flickered, tracing the delicate thread being pulled through decaying skin, before his gaze settled on you—on what was left of you.

Sebastian had become a creature of instinct, driven by something darker, something primal. He had torn through the dark halls of the Blacksite with a violence so raw, so brutal, that it left no room for mercy. Mere Limbs were shredded, layers of soft flesh ripped apart as if it were nothing more than paper beneath his hands. Deep crimson blood had flowed like rivers, drenching the cold metallic floors in a sea of red. The stench of rotting bodies clung to the air, thick and suffocating. He had bathed the Blacksite in death, and yet it was never enough.

He needed more.

Your body, once divine, had begun to rot so long ago. The soft skin of your face, once untouched by time, had long since withered away. Maggots crawled through what remained, eating away at your remaining existing flesh that had shriveled up and lost its radiant color, but Sebastian couldn't see it. Or perhaps he refused to. His eyes, dark and hollow in that shade of blue, only saw the memory of you—the beauty you once held, the light you once gave him. He couldn't bear to lose it.

So, he had followed in Urbanshade’s footsteps. He had learned, in the most twisted way, to preserve you. Piece by piece, he replaced what decayed, ripping parts from the bodies he’d slaughtered, stitching them together with thread, with force, with desperation so solid that it became the foundation of his delusion. He practiced, over and over, perfecting the art of sewing until murder became a ritual, a divine act of art in his mind in the name of creation.

Sebastian Solace had turned the Blacksite into his own cathedral of carnage, a place where death and love were inseparable. He had twisted his devotion into something monstrous, into a grotesque form of art where your body, patched and stitched together from the remains of his victims, was his only masterpiece. His love for you had become a relentless hunger, one that consumed him as completely as it had consumed the bodies he tore apart to keep you whole.

And still, he sat by your side, gently stitching, as if he were mending something sacred.

„Sebastian. They are gone.“

Sebastian’s gaze lingered on you, taking in your once delicate features, trying to grasp at the fading remnants of what you had been. But the longer he bathed in your presence, the more your appearance twisted and warped, a grotesque distortion of the memory he clung to. The rosy tint that had once colored your cheeks was gone, replaced by the sickly pallor of decaying flesh. Your skin, that soft, precious surface he had adored, was now peeling, hanging in ragged strips from your bones, exposing raw, festering meat underneath.

His heart quickened, the rhythm erratic as his mind scrambled for answers that weren't there. Where was the gentle glow in your eyes, the light that had once held him captive? Instead, hollow, sunken sockets stared back at him, their emptiness filled only with the dull sheen of rot. The stench of death clung to you, thick and nauseating, wrapping itself around him, filling his lungs with each breath until the taste of it settled heavy on his tongue.

The skin he had so tenderly sewn was slipping, the stitches frayed and torn, unable to hold together the decomposing mass that had once been you. His hands twitched, instinctively reaching for the needle and thread, desperate to fix it, to make you whole again. But no matter how many times he stitched, how many bodies he tore apart to replace the rotting parts, it was never enough. Your flesh, his precious masterpiece, was slipping away from him.

He could see the maggots now, squirming and writhing beneath the layers of your skin, feasting on what remained. The sight turned his stomach, but he couldn’t look away. He needed to save you—needed to preserve what little of you was left. Yet, the more he tried, the more your body melted into something unrecognizable, a grotesque nightmare that mocked his every attempt at salvation.

He broke like glass and died inside from a pain that couldn't be described with words. In the endless blue eyes were a deep reflection of total confusion as all traces of emotional warmth has left his body. Seconds passed, then minutes and somehow he wasn't sure if life really continued in that moment.

“I tried to eat them,” Sebastian whispered, his voice hollow, as if the confession carried no weight anymore, just a haunting echo in the stagnant air. He hovered above the floor, eyes tracing the dark puddle of blood mixed with filthy water beneath him. His reflection stared back, twisted and ghostly in a liquid that wasn’t even yours.

“After they died... I tried to eat their flesh to preserve them,” he continued, almost as if speaking to himself, his words barely audible. His gaze remained fixed on the pool as if searching for something—an answer, perhaps, or absolution. “I started with their neck... I remember, they loved it when I kissed their neck.”

His hand drifted to his mouth, his voice trembling, though his face remained eerily calm. “I sunk my teeth into the cold flesh... tasted the first drop of blood. I pulled at it, gently tearing away the skin, chewing it like it was some delicate meal. But all I tasted was metal—cold, bitter metal.”

His fingers twitched, reaching out to stroke the grotesque, rotting leg of the decaying mass that sat slumped in the chair, a body that barely resembled what it once had been. Painter, from his place on the screen, watched in silent horror as Sebastian caressed the flesh with disturbing tenderness, as if even now he could find traces of the beauty he once loved.

“It wasn’t like them," he muttered, his voice growing softer, more distant. "It wasn’t what they were. All I could taste was death. Cold, tasteless, soulless death.”

His hand trembled as it slid down the decayed limb, his eyes glazed over, lost in the memory. “But I kept eating... trying to find them in the flesh, in the blood. I devoured piece after piece, convinced that somewhere in the rot, they still existed. And then I woke up.”

His voice cracked, the weight of his confession finally settling in. “And I realized, I had tainted their beauty.”

He paused, staring at the ruin before him, his body still, his mind racing. “I wanted them back. So I began sewing. Stitching them together piece by piece. Everything I ate, I replaced. Everything I destroyed, I repaired. I cut away what was lost, what had withered. And everything that was them... everything that had been theirs... I loved.”

His fingers traced the jagged edges of the sewn flesh, a twisted mockery of the love he once held for you. In his mind, he had preserved you, kept you alive, bound to him through his grotesque ritual. But in the quiet shadows of the Blacksite, all that remained was a macabre testament to his obsession—a reflection of the madness that had consumed him.

And Painter realized, Sebastian is still utterly in love with you.

[skylessknights]

— Alicia Ostriker, from The Imaginary Lover: Poems; “25th Year of Marriage, It Goes On.”

[rezwrites]

Since we are in October… is there any chance you could write a Vampire!Agatha x reader?  Agatha finding the most delicious blood of her entire long life (Reader’s blood) and getting excited/horny when she drinks Reader’s blood

love your writing

thank you sm!!

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, TW needles/blood/phlebotomy/venipuncture, blood kink, violence, allusion to kidnapping, non consensual thigh riding, unconsciousness

a/n: sry for going overboard with this, but vampire!hematologist!Agatha was so fun to write, I had to make a moodboard! <3

Waiting in the hematologists office you wring your fingers with nervousness, simultaneously regretting not bringing a light jacket to combat the chill of the air conditioner. You’ve heard nothing but good things about this doctor, hoping for some form of a miracle after cycling through many specialists only to come up empty-handed. It’s worth the out-of-city drive if you get some answers this time.

The nurse calls your name, taking you back to an examination room. As the nurse takes your temperature and vitals, you explain what’s been going on, going through routine questions. After jotting everything down, she orders a quick blood test to test your levels. Leaving to retrieve her equipment you lied down as she instructed.

Turning your head you refused to see what was happening as she tied the tourniquet around your upper arm, the strong sting of the alcohol wipe wafting through your nose. Wincing at the poke of the needle entering your vein, you exhale deeply. The nurse patches you up, gathering the vials. You thank the nurse after she lets you know the doctor will be in soon, leaving the room.

Anxiety rises up again as you await the results, trying your best to keep your breathing steady. Running your eyes over the walls, you read the various degrees and accolades framed. It blew your mind that this woman has fifteen years of school under her belt, being a doctor is definitely not for the faint of heart. A sudden rapping on the door brings you out of your thoughts.

“Hello, I’m Dr. Harkness.” She steps into the room, casting a soft, comforting smile. Her wavy, brunette hair tied in a bun, some loose stands falling over her white coat. Closing the door, she sat on her chair.

“Well, your blood pressure was a little lower than it should be. Lab results showed that you have a decreased amount of red blood cells causing Anemia. Now, if it’s a sudden loss of blood somewhere or an underlying illness, we don’t know yet. It honestly astounds me how those other doctors failed to see this for so long.”

“From time to time I’ll wake up with a sore neck or wrist. And my problems will arise after that.” You added. She looks at you intently, cerulean eyes full of concern. Turning to her computer she started typing everything you had said into her system.

“Mhm and when was the last time you woke up like that?” She questioned.

“A few days ago.”

“And you said you noticed all this happening after you gave blood at a blood drive a few months ago.” She asked.

“Yes,” you confirmed. Finally, some form of an answer and one step closer to a treatment plan. It all hit you at once, there was no way to stop the floodgates.

She turned away from her computer, closing your chart, “I’d like to keep you overnight to observe your condition.”

Her face turned in worry and the sight of your tears, “Oh dear, I understand it’s scary.” She grabbed some tissues off the counter offering them to you.

Taking them you shook your head, drying your eyes, “I’m more relieved to have more or less an answer.”

She pulls some documents from the drawer, explaining that’s it’s a consent to overnight admittance form, “Don’t worry, I’ll give you a note for work if you need one, but it is imperative we get to the bottom of this as soon as possible.”

You nod, signing the paperwork before she put a patient wristband on you. Directing you to follow her she leads you deeper into the building, the atmosphere becoming more homey and welcoming, “This is where I keep my overnight patients, it’s more relaxed and calming than a hospital.”

Opening a wooden door there was a single bed with a television mounted on the wall. A small restroom in the corner and a medical cabinet next to the hallway door. She pulled a medical gown from the cabinet, instructing you to change, then lie down on the bed before exiting to give you privacy.

Re-entering the room she placed an IV bag on the counter moving towards the bed, “I’ll just hook you up to the monitor. I’ll also put you on an IV drip for the night as well, so you can get the vitamins you’ve been missing.” She clips the pulse oximeter to your finger, walking over to the cabinet against the wall grabbing everything she needs.

Once Agatha turned around with the needle in her hand, you turned your head away holding out your arm. Prepping and cleaning the crook of your arm, she warns you, “Small pinch.”

“Good girl.” Agatha praises slipping the cannula into your arm, securing it with tape connecting you to the cannula hanging the bag on the IV hook behind the bed, “here’s the remote for the television, press the call button if you need anything. I’ll be back soon to check on you.”

Dr. Harkness checked on you multiple times throughout the afternoon, making sure you were comfortable and not in any pain. She took another blood sample telling you she just wanted to see if your red blood cell count has increased. You’re truly thankful for her thoroughness and thoughtfulness. The warmth of the evening sun seeping through the small window of your room was causing you to grow drowsy, despite your earnest to stay awake in case anything came up. Unable to keep your eyes open any longer you texted your family, updating them before dozing off.

A soft knock on the door pulls you back into consciousness. Turning on the lamp you called out allowing the person on the other side to come in. Dr. Harkness steps through the door apologizing for the intrusion so late. Her hair loose, coat gone; a different air around her.

“So, good news I know exactly what’s wrong with you.” Agatha starts explaining, striding to the end of the bed, hands in her pants pockets. You listen close to what she has to say.

“Bad news is I’m not exactly going to help you.” She states matter of factly. You blanched at her words, heartbeat quickening. Eyebrows pulled together as you sat up, pressing your back deeper into the pillows.

“I mean, of course, I want you to be as healthy as possible don’t get me wrong, but I found the perfect snack in you at that blood drive.” Fear gripping you as Agatha stepped closer to the bed, her sinister smile showing her fangs, “I settled for rationing twice a month on you, but now that you’re here, I’d be a fool to let you get away this time.”

The room was now energized with malevolence. This woman, monster, was the cause of your problems. Why you can’t get out and enjoy your life anymore because you’re so dizzy and tired to do anything. Balling your fist, fingernails digging into your palms; knuckles turning white, “And when the police come? People know I’m here, if I don’t come home they’ll-”

“Easy. You went out the back where no cameras are, it’s easier to get to the parking lot that way than circling the whole building again. What happened after that nobody would have a clue.” Agatha countered, her smile was sickening, your stomach flipping.

“Even if, small if by the way, you managed to escape and get help who would believe that the good Dr. Harkness, was a vampire.” She started laughing in disbelief.

You eyes shifted between her and the door. Throwing the blanket off you you attempt to jump out of the bed, but Agatha was on you in a second wrestling you back down to the bed. Managing to get an arm free you landed a solid punch to her jaw, the pulse oximeter flying off your finger. Paralyzed with terror when her smile grew, completely unfazed by your punch, her eyes maniacal., “It’s just us here, feel free to scream all you want.”

As much as you wanted to, you couldn’t. Not a sound would come out. Pinning both your wrists in one hand, her other hand sliding off her slacks.

“I believe I got your neck last time,” her knees pushing up your gown as she shuffled up your body. Letting out a pleased sigh Agatha settled herself on your thigh.

Bringing one wrist to her mouth she didn’t waste any time sinking her fangs into you. The sharp, piercing pain elicited a cry from you, tears falling down your face. Agatha’s cold hand held your wrist tightly as she sucked roughly, hips rocking frantically.

“Absolutely divine.” Agatha growled out her ruby eyes holding yours as blood ran down your arm and her chin. She licks the blood running down your arm, her thighs tightening around yours. Tossing her head back as she shudders on top of you moan loudly, “Always so delicious.”

Your breaths grow shallow, everything is cold as you stare at the gray ceiling. A small whine escapes you, vision blurring as you teeter on the brink of consciousness.

“That’s it. Rest easy now.” Agatha voice is fading, “you’re going to need it.”

[insomnious-illustrations]

Day 1: Eyes

I'm already four days behind for Ghoultober leave me alone.

[jake-and-amy-are-married]

@giftober 2024 | Day #18: Gift | Max gifting Furiosa lifesaving blood <3 |

[junicult]

the bachelors and their thoughts on tattoos and piercings?? and if they have any/want any

!! the bachelors & tattoos / piercings

contains ; talk of piercings / tattoos. farmer has piercings tattoos (not specified). sfw. one minor nsfw comment in shanes (i seriously can’t help myself).

note ; i made this super quickly in literally like 10 mins😭

harvey

- he doesn’t have either.

- and he doesn’t plan on ever getting them.

- i don’t think he necessarily hates them, (on other people at least) but it’s not something he personally seeks out. like, if you just so happen to have tattoos or piercings, he doesn’t care.

- …he might be the type that doesn’t really like extensive amounts of facial piercings, tho.

- at least, if he met you and you already had those piercings, he might not want to seek a further relationship.

- if you’re already together, and extremely committed, you wanting piercings or tattoos wouldn’t change how he loves you.

- if he did have any piercings, they’d probably just be his ears. but i can’t even picture him getting any.

sam.

- LMFAO i just know he’s the person that doesn’t have any tattoos, but he constantly talks about all the tattoo’s he wants to get. (me)

- piercings, however, are a different story🤭

- he started off simple by getting his earlobe pierced for sure. definitely thought it was very “rockstar” to have.

- overtime he got a few more, (all of which taken place in sebastian’s basement), such as an upper lobe & orbital.

- and he definitely has an industrial. ik it.

- it’s probably healed too which is crazy.

- also, i think it’d be cute for him to just have a dainty little hoop on his nostril.

- when it comes to his partner, he couldn’t care less if they have any piercings / tattoos or not.

- butttt he thinks they’re so attractive. piercings especially.

- lip piercings if we’re being even more specific. ik that if u had snake bites, or an ashley piercing…phew.

- it just gives him an excuse to stare at ur lips lol.

- i feel like he would want to have his nipples pierced, but he’d never go through with it.

- same reason why he doesn’t have any tattoos.

- in general, because he skateboards and stuff, i feel like he’s immune to scratches and scrapes.

- he was also definitely the kind of kid that always had his arm in a cast or something.

- but i’ll still die on this hill: he has a low pain tolerance.

- sebastian can attest to it.

- mf is constantly squirming each time the needle even approaches his skin.

shane.

- he’s more of a tattoo kind of person then piercings.

- is it safe to say i think the majority of his are from when he was drunk😭?

- his pain tolerance is fairly high. he’s got a couple tattoo’s, that’s for sure.

- one on his arm of something gridball related to reminisce back on those days, and one on his back or maybe chest.

- of what? he doesn’t even know.

- as for piercings, definitely his regular & upper earlobes. he never changes the jewelry, it’ll always be that.

- i feel like he also has a daith just bc he heard it helps w migraines 😭

- but he is totally attracted to piercings.

- have any kind of facial piercings you want, he doesn’t care.

- but he’s an absolute sucker for body piercings, whether you have them or not.

- if u have ur belly button pierced, or even…u know…ur nipples dare i say; lord😭😭

- if ur dating, believe me he’s not ignoring those.

- when he sees u naked for the first time, or for the first time after u got those pierced—he’d be such a little asshole.

- “oh, these are nice.” he just raises his eyebrows, smirking down. “they healed?”

- if they are then…well. you already know.

- also he’s a sucker for a tramp stamp😭

- those were so popular in the 90s ik he’d lose his mind if u had one.

sebastian.

- pelican town’s unofficial piercer.

- lord.

- aside from multiple stick and pokes when he was in his teens, he doesn’t have any tattoos.

- they’re all definitely of things he looks back on and physically cringes. he doesn’t even tell people he has them, (besides sam & abby who were around when he was in that phase)

- the only reason you’d find out about them is if you saw them and asked him about it.

- as for piercings, he’s decked out.

- i’m talking lobes, orbital, helix, industrial, daith, conch. his ears are HEAVY.

- his eyebrow, nose, and lip is pierced too.

- his eyebrow might be one of his favs, and i also wholeheartedly believe that was his first ever piercing on himself when he was like 16. he stuck with it since.

- he also just has a nostril hoop. it’s black ofc.

- and…his lip piercing…

- a vertical labret 🤭🤭🤭.

- & u can disagree with me on this, but i’d like to think all of his piercings are properly cared for, cleaned, and healed. he’s not wasting any time caring for an infection.

- i also wanna say he has a few that he’s taken out as he’s gotten older.

- like his bridge piercing. he had it for a couple years before he decided to take it out, so he has a little scar there.

- i feel like abby has snake bites, which convinced him to get snake bites at one point. but when he got his labret, he took those out.

- lastly, i definitely think he had a septum at one point, but pretty quickly he realized it just didn’t suit him so he took it out.

- as for his partner, if you had any piercings—he doesn’t care. why would he?

- he’s incredibly impartial. whether you have them or don’t.

- but let me tell you…if you don’t have any, he’ll gladly change that if you ever asked😇😇

alex.

- he has none.

- zilch. zero.

- he’s not the biggest fan of a ton of piercings. unfortunately i feel like he was raised in that kind of household, so he was conditioned to feel the same way (we’ve all met george).

- like, if you have ur ears pierced or maybe one little face piercing, i don’t think he’d mind that much.

- it definitely depends on how much he likes you.

- if he met you while you had face piercings, he’d probably judge you by cover.

- but if you slowly got them after you’ve been dating a while, i feel like that’s when he’s realize how attractive they can be.

- if you got your lip pierced, and he got to see how plump your lips get from swelling—that might drive him crazy.

- everytime he leans in for a kiss you’d have to pull away, tutting, “ah-ah, no kissing.”

- it’s like ur torturing him.

- and if you ever convinced him to get a piercing, he’d only allow his ears.

- for tattoos, i think it’d be so sweet to imagine him wanting one that linked to his mom.

- like something she’s said before, a nickname she gave him, maybe even if she had a tattoo he’d get the same one.

- because he’s not that emotionally available, he never told anyone.

- not until u asked, and since he’s trusts you more then anyone, he doesn’t mind being vulnerable to you.

elliot.

- he has both.

- but his are just so beautiful that you’d literally see them on pinterest, y’know?

- he’s so tasteful with his piercings and tattoos.

- he’s a patchwork fan. like small separate tattoos on his arms and torso.

- each of which have meaning to him in someway.

- and his piercings are soo small and dainty. (GOLD TOO. he’s strictly gold.)

- he has a little stud on his nostril, and his ears are similar to sebastian’s.

- but he’s much more organized then anyone else. his piercings all took place over time, and they’re all matched. he’s a strict gold jewelry person.

- it just makes him look so clean and put together.

- when it comes to you, he in general doesn’t care whether you have them or not.

- physical attraction isn’t the biggest deal to him. so what if you do / don’t have piercings.

- but he can definitely appreciate if you’re just as dedicated to your jewelry / tattoos as he is.

[goryhorroor]

favorite horror movies (117): martin (1977)

"Things only seem to be magic. There is no real magic. There's no real magic ever."

[originallymarysue]

PLEASE do Nurse Puzzles. We NEED IT!

I would never let him around medical equipment anyday honestly that man is insane.

Anyways here's my take on a Nurse! Mr Puzzles based off the recent episode.

(used markers for a change here and I think it turned out good)

(also Dr Mario in the background lol-)

[moodysullie]

I support women's wrongs.

[twobeesinatrenchcoat]

Needles needles needles needles

[chaotic-orphan]

Hey! I've just read your defiant leader x confident villain story and HOLY SHIT is it good. I love the personalities that you've given the characters, and how the villain doesn't really want to hurt the leader and is trying to ignore all of their feeling. Ugh!

I would love it if you could write more of the story. I have a feeling there's a lot more twists and turns on the horizon 👀✨

Defiant Leader x Confident Villain (5)

Read part one here

Continued from here

Guys… i am so sorry to everyone who has requested more parts for this series… it has taken literally months, I am only finished now because I queued it when I discovered it again! I am very sorry, it is an active WIP again!! I hope you enjoy!

TW: NEEDLES

~*~*~*~*~*~

Leader woke to the door of his room opening. He was still sitting in the chair in the room where Supervillain left him. The last thing he remembered was staring at the wall to pass the time, limbs still tied down tightly. Sometimes, when he was feeling adventurous, he’d glare down at the hammer that mangled his hand, but even that got boring. He didn’t realise he fell to sleep until he was waking up with the click of the lock in the door.

He didn’t have time to wake up, so his mind shot alert, clearing the fog that usually came with waking suddenly. He felt his body come alive at the thoughts of Supervillain coming to destroy his other hand. His limbs were asleep but still Leader made a fist with his free hand trying to get feeling back into it just in case.

What he could do to fight against Supervillain he didn’t know, but… but who was he kidding?! Supervillain seemed to smash every bone in his good hand, his strong hand, his punching hand.

Leader wanted to cry out as he tried to make a fist with his hand on instinct, but swallowed the cry to a sharp hiss as loud, quick footsteps thundered behind Leader’s chair and they froze.

Those footsteps were unmistakable, and there was only one set. A swift slap to the back of the head and Leader let out a startled: “ow!”

“You deserve more than that, you fucking idiot!” Villain hissed, coming to stand in front of Leader, setting a doctor’s bag down on the floor in front of Leader and dropping to one knee, unzipping it. “What were you thinking, pissing Supervillain off, Leader? Do you know how difficult you are making everything for me?”

“How about you just let me go and I’ll be out of your hair.”

Villain jerked their head up, piercing gaze furious and accusing. “Would you? Be out of my hair?” Villain challenged. Leader was the first to look away, and Villain scoffed, before dipping their head again and searching through the bag beside him. “Yeah. Thought so.”

“Villain… I…” Leader began, searching for the words to express themselves, but none came, and Villain didn’t seem to be in the mood to hear them even if they did somehow miraculously find the words to defend themselves. “Look, you don’t have to keep coming to my rescue.”

“Clearly I do,” Villain ground out, accusing eyes finding Leader’s again. “If you keep riling Supervillain up, Leader, he will kill you. I’m not fucking around. He will murder you, but you won’t die quickly. It will be long, drawn out, torturous.”

Leader’s brows lowered over their eyes, hooding the sockets in shadow. “I know that, Vil.”

“I don’t think you do!”

Leader’s eyes widened at the intensity colouring Villain’s voice, the slight fear in their eyes as they spoke. It was almost… desperate, almost helpless. Villain scoffed and looked away, running a hand through their hair, pulling slightly at the end of the strands.

Leader frowned. “Villain… what’s that look?”

Villain didn’t answer right away but a million different thoughts seemed to flash across his expression— doubt, fear, disgust anxiety. Every time Villain opened their mouth to speak they seemed to pause, chew their words, search for a better way to say what they wanted to tell Leader.

Eventually a grim resolution moulded their features and they looked at Leader again instead of through them.

“Supervillain,” Villain began hesitantly not quite meeting Leader’s gaze, and instead running a nervous hand through their hair. “He didn’t exactly trust me when I wanted to join his side so he devised a sort of… test, or trial run and he gave me the job he thought I would run away scared from.”

Villain risked a glance at Leader’s expression, then let out a long sigh and pinched the bridge of their nose, rocking back on their heels.

“It’s not something I’m proud of but I had to prove myself and if I didn’t do it someone else would have—”

“It’s okay, Vil,” Leader told them. Startled eyes found Leader’s and Villain’s expression softened slightly, shoulders losing tension. “Go on.”

“He made me the interrogator… or that’s what he called it, he made me his torturer,” Villain said quietly and it was as if all the oxygen had been sucked from the room. Leader stared at Villain, studying their face. Villain let out a shaky breath. “Every Hero we captured, or enemy someone brought in I would take care of them. Get information, work the confessions out of them, or just make them suffer— whatever Supervillain told me to do.”

Villain licked their lips, their eyes looking down to their hands before continuing.

“That’s not even the worst part, Leader,” Villain continued, tightening their hands into fists. They raised their head, gaze steeled and said: “The worst part was that I was good at it.”

Leader would rather Villain pick up the hammer and smash their other hand, or every single bone in their body rather than tell them this. Rather than this be true, because Villain wasn’t… Villain couldn’t— Villain… it felt like all air was robbed from their chest as they stared at Villain and for the first time since they came, Leader finally saw Villain.

They saw how much Villain changed. The little moments that were shining through of the old Villain were only that. Fleeting moments. Villain looked the same, although they had a new haircut and a crueller smirk. They carried themselves a little taller, but they looked like Leader’s Villain, but there was something now that seemed to finally let Leader see the real Villain.

The new Villain.

As if a blindfold had just been taken off Leader’s eyes.

Villain looked older, not by much but they had a less innocence in their eyes. Instead they were hard, certain kernels of experience. They didn’t just carry themselves taller, Villain had a new confidence about them as if they had finally found their calling. As if they were born to be a Villain, to be an… interrogator.

Villain’s expression softened and they turned away, letting out a shaky laugh. “You hate me now, don’t you?”

“Not even a little bit,” Leader said without hesitation. Villain let the shock show across their face as they met Leader’s eyes again.

Leader forced their resolve to show on their face, as sure as anything. “You did what you felt you had to do, Vil,” Leader continued softly. “You did what I always knew you could: you survived everything that life threw at you. How could I hate you for that?”

Villain looked so vulnerable in that moment, and Leader wished that they had seen it sooner. They wished they noticed how lost Villain was within the team, how sad they were. Always lashing out, always a little more distant and reserved.

“I should have done more, Vil,” Leader said and Villain rocked back on their heels, shaking their head side to side. They opened their mouth to reply but Leader beat them to it. “No, I should’ve, I’m sorry you felt like you had to leave the team. I’m sorry about the way things ended… I— I miss you, if I’m honest. But sometimes…”

The words were rushing out of Leader’s mouth now, all emotion. “Sometimes when we start out life presents us with opportunities and we just go along with them because, well, what other option do we have? But you… I’ve never seen you more alive, more at peace. You really seem to have found your place in the world Villain and I couldn’t be more happy for you.”

“You can’t say that, Leader,” Villain whispered.

Leader laughed. “Says who?”

Villain frowned. “We are enemies, we’re on the opposing sides. We can’t— there is no world where we’re friends.”

“Just because I don’t agree with you, Villain, doesn’t mean I don’t know you. I don’t still care for you, that the years we shared mean nothing.”

“It does,” Villain protested. “It has too.”

Leader leaned forward in their chair. “If it does, then what the hell are you here for, Villain?”

The question was like a slap of reality that stunned Villain for a moment before they sighed. They glanced down to the bag they brought in and rummaged through it, pulling out a small black case and flicking it open.

Inside was a needle and a small bottle of something. Villain reached in and grabbed the needle. Villain reached into the bag and drew out two medical gloves and slide them onto their hands, snapping the band at the end of one and grinning up at Leader.

It unnerved Leader a little as they stared down at the bottle, trying to read whatever it was Villain was so happy about showing them. Now with the knowledge that Villain was the resident torturer.

Not that it was particularly news to Leader. When rumours started circulating about Supervillain’s new vicious agony agent it was Rogue who brought the idea of Villain to Leader’s attention. Rogue ran with other people before Leader; heroes, vigilantes, villains… probably the one with the most contacts across the city.

“How certain are you?” Leader asked them.

Rogue shrugged one shoulder. “I trust contact with my life. They’re not the gossiping type.”

Leader didn’t show it then, but the thought, the very possibility that it could have been Villain terrified them. How wrong did they go with Villain to make them want to hurt people? But looking at them now, Leader couldn’t help but see the same Villain they had always known. Maybe just more grown up and sure of themselves. The way they were working so deftly with the needle and vial. Drawing some liquid into the needle and spurting it back out again to re-draw.

They smiled up at Leader once they were satisfied and started rubbing Leader’s hand with cotton balls covered in rubbing alcohol. Leader hissed jerking their arm back, but Villain continued as if Leader was sitting quiet as a mouse.

“I know, but you gotta hurt to get better. No pain no gain, right?” Villain asked with a grin. Leader smothered their anxiety at that grin. Villain’s old reassuring grin, the same one they wore before they ran recklessly from the group to defend them. When they directly disobeyed Leader’s orders to intercept their enemies before it was time.

Now, it wasn’t any of that. It was reassuring and light, so Leader nodded and set their jaw into a tight line as Villain smoothed the skin on Leader’s hand. Leader clenched their teeth as their bone rubbed off bone.

“Okay, this will hurt.”

That was all the warning Leader got before Villain plunged the needle into their hand. Leader jolted forwards, swallowing a scream to a mewling whine in the back of their throat instead.

They felt the liquid being injected into their hand, it was a strange sensation but not one that was unfamiliar. Once Villain had thumbed down the plunger and injected all of the liquid they pulled it out gently. They replaced it with a cotton pad the dab the blood away.

Leader stared at Villain. “Okay. That actually wasn’t that bad,” Leader told them.

Villain grimaced. “Leader, that was the easy part.”

Leader frowned and then the pain came. It was a simmering kind of burning at first and Leader’s wide eyes shot to Villain’s.

“Vil… what is this? What is this?” They rushed out, gasping between the questions.

“It’s okay, Leader. It just resets the bones in your hand.”

“It what?” Leader shrieked, closing their eyes as they felt their bones start to move in their hand.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Leader cried as their hand ignited in agony. They gasped and shot forward as far as the ropes would allow them, their neck muscles straining as they tried to not scream but their hand was on fire.

“Hey, Leader. It’s okay, I know. I know.” Leader only very distantly heard Villain whispering assurances and comforting words to them as they writhed beneath the ropes.

“Villain!” Leader gasped, throwing their head back as a guttural scream was torn from their throat. Leader kicked out and tried to buck themselves out of the chair but the ropes just remained firm as Leader screamed louder than they ever have before. The pain ricocheted from their hand — where their bones were moving and mending under their skin — all the way to their shoulders and then deeper into their chest.

It was too much.

Stars burst behind their eyes as they felt their bones crack into place.

Villain was speaking to them. Lips moving but Leader couldn’t hear a word they said. Villain’s eyes widened as Leader let the blackness swallow them, the last thing they saw was Villain lurching from their crouch.

*~*~*~*~*

Continued here

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[sticker-pop]

2004 Tamagotchi collector cards 🩺

[jesuis-assez]

↠ Tim & Lucy ↳ Camera angles

🎥 Redwood [1x11]

[staycalmandhugaclone]

Made myself sad. Figured I'd share the random thought.

Crosshair didn't used to be afraid of needles. After escaping Tantiss, it didn't even cross his mind until he needs a shot - maybe painkiller or antibiotics for a simple injury that he usually wouldn't bat an eye toward getting patched up but then the medic approaches him with the routine medication and he absolutely panics. It catches everyone by surprise, especially Crosshair himself. He refuses to speak about it afterwards for as long as he can avoid it.

... be a shame if this led to a fic... and I got tagged in them 👀

[insomnious-illustrations]

"Your eyes are the eyes of a dead man."

(I couldn't decide which version I liked best so more under the cut)

[wyndigos-blog]

Okay, I could not fit this entire thing in the notes, so I'm going to make a separate post for it @servusapollinis

Basically, vasovagal syncope is a condition where, when somebody is exposed to certain triggers (usually blood, gore, vomit, or needles, although it can be many other things) they experience a massive spike in heart rate and a massive drop in blood flow, usually leading to emotional distress, lightheadedness, headaches, or fainting.

I have severe trypanophobia (fear of needles) and I got vasovagal syncope from my mom, so I flip the fuck out whenever I see/am near needles. But this is insane, It's totally irrational, I absolutely love horror, and gore, and all that stuff, it doesn't bother me at all, probably to a concerning extent! So it's totally weird for me to have this.

But I've been watching the SAW franchise, and I've had absolutely no reaction to all of the blood and gore, I've quite enjoyed watching it. But now I'm on the second movie, and there's a scene where a woman has to crawl through a pit of needles. And up until this point, I'm completely fine, enjoying the movie, laughing with my family, all the good stuff. And all of a sudden I'm super light-headed, I'm crying and I don't know why I'm crying, and then I start laughing because I'm crying, and I can't stop laughing, and then my dad had to get me some water and help me off the floor.

I've had some very extreme reactions to needles, I mean hell, I wasn't even in the double digits when I was literally fighting several doctors just because I had to get blood drawn, but I've never done something like that, and I have a good feeling that the next time I have to see a needle irl, I'm going to pass out for real this time.

So yeah! Actually a pretty funny experience, but probably not the best.