#this is fucking blasphemy yo
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🎀 or 🌸 don’t matter witch one!
Hello lovely! I love your writing sooo much!!
Sooooo..
I'm like 5'8 something around that, and I’m Canadian eh!
I got shaggy brown hair with layers and bangs greenish blue eyes that I’m always getting compliments abt- and I wear glasses!
my style is pretty simple, bootcut jeans and hoodies, and band shirts🤞🏼
personally wise I'm pretty chill, but I got mad adhd and anxiety, so when it comes to my friends I'm more out there and silly goofy-
I like writing and reading (as you know I write fanfic lol) though I have Dyslexia math wise so Im kinda dumb and have a lisp (Lowkey kinda slow)
I'm very touchy and cuddly with people I'm comfy with (physically touch 🤞🏼)
I'm also considered shy!-
(And I can’t choose a fav boi 🥲)
———
Thank you so much! Have a wonderful day/night 🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼
oh em gee, hey hon!!<3 it’s so lovely to talk to you again! and i absolutely can!! also—thank you sossoso much!!!1!1!1!1 it means plenty coming from you🤍
you’d work so well with any of them i feel like…this is a hard choice….
i’m leaning toward either two-bit, sodapop, and ponyboy for some reason.
sodapop in the sense that he’d always be there for you. i feel like you’d enjoy that stability that he’d bring to the table.
two-bit because i feel like he’d match your energy 24/7. both your highs and lows. he’d just follow you to hell honestly
ponyboy becauee idk…u just givr off that vibe..:LET ME COOK
—SODA’S THE WINNER IN MY MIND CUZ LIKEEE??????
you would jusy be like geeking over smth that you found interesting and he’d be on the sidelines kicking his feet.
“AND THEN-“
“sorry-your eyes look so good right now.”
“thank you! ANYWAYS-“
#leo’s extra special event! ‧₊˚ ✩#i thought we were moots and i just found out we arent#this is fucking blasphemy yo#not me noy following you????#smh burn me at the stake
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Times Like These (The Anniversary Edition)
CH 1 CH 2 Ch 3 Ch 4 Ch5 Ch6 Ch7
Chapter 8: Master of Puppets
WC: 5053 | AO3 link
Eddie woke to the sound of a phone ringing in the distance and his head throbbing.
He rolled over, cracking one sore and puffy eye open to find himself surrounded. The two boys were already up—Max and Erica too. A graveyard of empty cereal bowls lined the coffee table in front of them, while Saturday morning cartoons played quietly on the TV.
Despite how miserable he felt, something about seeing these kids just… being kids, filled him with a surge of renewed affection for the little shits, and reminded him of all the countless reasons he had to not fuck this up again.
He drug himself up off the couch, grunting with the effort like a 90 year old man with aching bones and deteriorated joints, and made his way to the kitchen—called by the siren-smell of good strong coffee. Steve appeared in the doorway as he approached, watching the scene just as Eddie had with a fond look in his eyes. He held two mugs, handing one off with a lopsided grin.
Eddie looked down at the drink, finding it pale with too much cream for most people’s preference, but exactly how he liked it, and could almost smell the tooth-rotting sweetness of the excessive amount of sugar. It was perfect. How did Steve know?
“I love seeing them like this.” Steve said quietly, taking a sip from his own cup. Eddie didn’t need to look to know his was black. Blasphemy. “They don’t get to do it enough.”
Eddie offered a sad smile, humming his agreement. He looked back over his shoulder at the kids, and could only imagine how three years of fighting interdimensional monsters had cut pretty severely into each of their childhoods. Steve’s too, really. They often got caught up in worrying about the younger teens but Steve would have been what, 16 or 17 when this started?
Babies, all of them.
He turned back to say as much, but Steve tipped his head towards the kitchen, beckoning Eddie to follow.
“That was Joyce on the phone.” Steve began, standing close—too close for so early in the morning when Eddie’s defenses were down, speaking low to make sure no one else overheard, the rumbling tone of his voice threatening to set Eddie’s skin on fire.
“Owens’ people are sending a car to pick them all up, today.”
“What about Hopper?” Eddie whispered.
Steve sighed. “Well, she had to tell the Doc a little about our situation to explain why she was contacting him.”
“How’d that go?”
“She said he was weirdly accepting of the whole time loop thing, almost like he wasn’t surprised? Which, I guess they do research all kinds of weird shit in those labs, and he’s worked with kids like El for years, so maybe it just wasn’t all that unexpected. He knew some things about Vecna—Henry, whatever. Once they got talking she decided to tell him about the ransom note too, figuring he might have the resources to get Hop out, and they certainly owe us at least this much. He said they would handle it.”
He shrugged, clearly trying to appear unconcerned, but suddenly wouldn’t meet Eddie’s eyes. Eddie knew him too well by now to be fooled. Something was bothering him about all this, even if he was trying to pretend like he was fine.
“It’s okay if you’re worried. I know you don’t exactly trust these people.” Eddie said.
Steve tried to turn away, but like muscle memory Eddie reached out to lay a hand on his upper arm, giving him a knowing look.
“It’s stupid.” Steve said.
Eddie tightened his grip around Steve’s bicep, squeezing reassuringly as he rubbed his thumb back and forth. “I’m sure it’s not.”
“First I was worried about her going out there, and now—I know she’s right, they probably have ways to get to him that are much safer than her and Murray just fucking off to Alaska to meet with god-knows-who, and I’m happy that it’ll keep her out of the line of fire…”
“But?” Eddie prompted.
“But, if anyone can bring someone back from the presumed dead, it’s Joyce Byers. I don’t know how much you remember from back when Will went missing, but she never gave up. Not when they found a body in the quarry, or when the whole town treated her like she was crazy for believing her son was still alive. Against all odds she fought for him, went into the Upside Down and brought him home. I just… Hopper deserves that. Someone who cares enough to bring him home no matter what.”
This time Eddie couldn’t stop himself from wrapping his arms around Steve. At least now the other boy knew they’d been close before—friends. Friends could hug.
As he had so many times before, he wished he could tell Steve that everything would be okay—but he just didn’t know, and he couldn’t bring himself to lie and offer false words of comfort.
To his surprise Steve hugged him back, tentative at first, but he quickly melted into Eddie’s embrace as though he were starved for touch. It felt wonderful and devastating all at the same time to touch Steve like this—and to have Steve’s arms around him again too. It was a painful reminder of all that he’d lost, but still he refused to be the one to let go first.
“Thank you.” Steve said, pulling back and roughly clearing his throat.
All at once Eddie realized how quiet it was. Steve’s headphones sat down around his neck, which wasn’t weird in itself, it was something Eddie had seen Max and Chrissy do whenever their ears needed a break too, but they never let the music stop. Steve's song wasn’t playing at all, and Eddie couldn’t handle watching him be taken like that again.
He reached up, lifting the earpieces back over Steve's head, fingers itching to caress his cheek as they brushed by. He clenched his fist instead.
“Your tape stopped.” Eddie said, breathless, his heart hammering inside his chest.
Steve’s wide eyes never left his face as he nodded absently. There was a sudden tension in the air stretched perilously tight between them and Eddie had to force himself to take a step back before it snapped.
Shaking himself, Steve finally looked down, popping the tape out of his walkman to flip it and begin again, the volume set as low as it could be, and still be heard.
Eddie took a deep breath and tried to pull himself together. “So, what’s on the agenda today?” He asked, managing to sound almost normal.
“The kids should probably go home or something, spend time with their families and stuff before things get worse. We’re still going to need to stock up on weapons, right? Even if El gets her powers back?” Steve asked.
“Yeah.”
“Feel like doing some shopping today?”
Eddie shouldn’t have been surprised. It made sense for all the same reasons that it had in the last loop. The War Zone was closed on Sundays, and there hadn’t been a single murder yet in town to raise the alarms with the public or the Hawkins PD. Still, he felt a shiver make its way up his spine at the idea of the past repeating itself. Thinking not only of the store, but what happened after.
He did his best to push those thoughts way, way down.
“Sure. I’ll let you break the news to your children.”
“Our children.” Steve corrected, grinning.
Fuck.
Eddie gulped, backing his way out of the room, stammering, “I-I’ll go tell Robin and Chrissy t-to get ready.”
-
Predictably, the kids fought back, having no interest in being separated now. As before, they all decided to go to Mike’s together, and it wasn’t until Steve picked up the phone to call and let Nancy know the plan that Eddie realized she and Mike hadn’t come back this morning the way they did last time. Funny how some things changed while others stayed the same, without obvious rhyme or reason.
The trip to The War Zone went smoothly and pretty much as Eddie recalled. He’d racked his brain on the drive there, wondering if there was anything they could have used more or less of. Fire seemed to be the most effective weapon against the creatures of the Upside Down, so the molotov cocktails were still a good choice.
If only they could source an actual flamethrower.
Ultimately he didn't think any different number or type of weapons would be what turned the tides. This thing would come down to a battle of wills, he’d bet his life on it.
Nancy got quiet as they were unloading the supplies after returning from the store, and Eddie could almost hear the gears turning over in her mind. It was no surprise to him when she eventually spoke up.
“I want to go look for Fred.” She began, holding up a hand before anyone could argue. “And I know what you’re going to say. If we couldn’t find him last time what’s the point—but you said his body turned up in the trees behind his house right?”
“Yeah,” Eddie replied. “Sometime overnight or early in the morning they found him.”
“Okay so, that’s a clue we didn’t have before, and a place I’m sure I wouldn’t have looked.”
“How about this—the three of us,” Robin jumped in, indicating Nancy, Chrissy, and herself, “can go for a fun-filled hike in the woods, and we’ll leave you two here to hold down the fort in case Joyce or Eleven calls.”
She met Eddie’s gaze, winking at him like she was doing him a favor. He grit his teeth and scowled. How she’d caught on already that there was anything going on between him and Steve, he had no idea.
…Not that there was anything going on since he was doing everything in his power to stay far far away from that possibility right now.
Steve didn't seem to notice their little exchange, thankfully, and was only watching the three girls with obvious concern. “If that's what you want to do. Just… be safe, okay?”
“Always.” Robin said, giving Steve a pat on the shoulder before getting back into the car with Nancy and Chrissy.
The anxiety Eddie had already been soaking in all day reached a critical level as he and Steve were left home alone together, and more than once he found himself obsessively staring at the spot on the kitchen floor where he’d first held Steve, as he fell apart after Vecna had so ruthlessly attacked him on this same afternoon in another life.
He had to find some way to distract himself or he was going to lose it.
There was only one surefire way to settle at least some of his nerves, but Eddie was too afraid to go outside and smoke—afraid to let Steve out of his sight for even a second actually, and so when he wandered away from him—for the dozenth time—to the living room, Eddie had no choice but to follow. As he did he recalled the bag of tapes he knew was stashed in the entertainment center—bingo.
He moved to the cabinet and pulled it out, digging for the only decent film among the bunch, not caring that he’d just watched The Goonies a week ago. Ironically, he thought the familiarity of it might even offer him some comfort. He glanced back over his shoulder to ask Steve if he minded, only to find him with his headphones off and silent, again.
“Dude, how many times—” Eddie stomped across the room, his concerned frustration at Steve's carelessness spilling over to rage.
How hard was it to keep a fucking tape going?
He reached for the walkman clipped to the other boy’s waistband and yanked it off him—huffing as he popped the tape out, flipped it over, and shoved it back in, jamming his finger into the play button so hard he almost broke the damn thing, before shoving it back into Steve’s hands.
“It needs to be playing to work, asshole, and you really need to start keeping those on your ears more.” He flicked the hanging cord of the headphones as he leveled Steve with a hard glare.
“It’s–they–they’re uncomfortable.” Steve mumbled in half-hearted defense of himself.
It occurred to Eddie suddenly that this had never been a problem for Steve before. He’d never forgotten to keep his tape running, and never once had he complained about having to wear the headphones.
He narrowed his eyes. “Really, Harrington? Because I’m finding it hard to believe that you can’t deal with a little mild discomfort to keep that fucking monster at bay after all the other shit you’ve endured.”
“Okay, fine. Just… listen, If Vecna doesn’t attack me before we go after him, how can we be sure I’ll be on his radar—that he’ll take me as bait?”
“Wait, were you–were you leaving the music off on purpose so he could get to you? What the fuck, Steve?!” Eddie shouted.
“What was your plan then, huh? To make Chrissy play the lure? How is that fair?!” Steve yelled right back.
Eddie honestly hadn’t thought it through that far yet, and maybe Steve had a point. He certainly didn’t relish the idea of poor Chrissy being put on the chopping block again, but this certainly wasn’t the answer.
“It’s not fair to you either!” Eddie growled. “It’s not fair, period!”
“I can handle it!” Steve bellowed, smacking himself in the center of his chest. “And if it’s gotta be someone—why not me, huh? At least I have experience with this stuff! At least El knows me a little! If this whole thing winds up hinging on her piggybacking in someone's brain again, isn’t it better—easier if it’s someone she knows?!”
Again Eddie was brought up short. He shook his head—he couldn’t argue with the bulk of Steve’s logic, but–
“You don’t know what you're signing yourself up for! You have no idea what he’s capable of! Steve, don’t do this to–”
“Why does it matter so much to you if he takes me anyway?!”
Eddie recoiled, feeling the force of Steve’s words like a slap in the face. “What? What do you mean why? Steve, you’re my—” He snapped his mouth shut, fighting to retain control of himself even as he spiraled further into panic.
“We’re friends. I care about you.”
Right in front of his eyes, Steve’s face hardened into a cruel mask.
“Friends,” Steve mocked with a bark of laughter, mouth twisting into an unfriendly smile. “We’re not friends, not really—you do realize that right? If you hadn’t gotten yourself caught up in all this, I would have never said two words to you. Why would I?”
All the blood drained from Eddie’s face. It felt like he’d been kicked off the edge of a cliff.
It wasn’t anything he hadn’t thought of himself. A nagging fear in the back of his mind, that any feelings Steve was developing for him were circumstantial at best, nothing that would stand up to any sort of test—that it wasn’t real. That Steve had only clung to him because he was there—convenient and willing.
He’d thought, after the kiss–
Well, he’d started to hope he was wrong. Almost believed it when Robin gave him so much shit for doubting Steve when they’d spoken in the woods. But here it was in front of him. Proof that he’d been right to worry.
“Honestly,” Steve went on, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “I’ve only been pretending to be nice to you so you’ll help us. Why else would I ever want to be associated with Eddie ‘The Freak’ Munson?”
“Wh–what are you saying?”
Eddie’s eyes grew wet, hot tears threatening to fall. Oh god, what an idiot he’d been.
“Poor thing,” Steve cooed at him, all pouting lips and false sympathy. “You should know, when you told me you were gay?” He paused, shuddering. “I was completely repulsed. I had to pretend otherwise of course, so you’d cooperate, but it made me sick having to lay next to you night after night.”
“Wait, I didn’t…” Eddie breathed, a barely audible whisper. “But, that didn’t happen this time.”
Something was very, very wrong here.
He started to slowly back up, eyes darting between the doorway to the kitchen and the hall leading to the front door, trying to calculate his best move.
“You’re not Steve.”
“Not quite.” The thing that wasn’t Steve smirked, folding his hands together locked behind his back. “Hello, Eddie. We meet at last.”
He was still wearing Steve’s face, but the voice coming out of his throat was becoming something deeper, darker, and far more dangerous.
Any relief Eddie felt for the fact that it hadn’t really been Steve saying those awful things to him was overshadowed by the terror of meeting his enemy in person for the first time, and in his own domain no less.
“Fuck you.” Eddie spat, projecting a bravery he absolutely did not feel.
Steve—Vecna began to pace a slow circle around him. “I don’t know how you’ve managed this trick, sending yourself back in time over and over again, but it’s no matter. I’ve seen what’s in your head now. I know what you and Eleven and all your little friends have planned. It won’t work.”
A guitar riff Eddie would never forget, even if he lived a thousand lifetimes, began to fill the air around him. Someone, somewhere was playing Master of Puppets for him—trying to pull him out of this place. Trying to save him. Hope blossomed in his chest as he thought about what Chrissy had described seeing the first time he’d successfully pulled her out of her trance, and searched around frantically for any signs of an opening or portal.
Either unable to hear the music or uncaring that Eddie was in the process of being rescued, Vecna kept taunting him.
“Of course, you already know that, having failed so many times before. I wonder why it is you even continue to try and fight the inevitable. This is your fate, Eddie, and his.” The monster gestured to himself, to the suit of familiar skin he wore, drawing Eddie’s attention back.
The eyes—Steve’s beautiful hazel eyes that Vecna had stolen to use against him rolled back and began to bleed. With a loud crack his jaw dislocated, hanging loose, mouth gaping open in a silent scream. Another snap and his arm bent back the wrong way, broken.
Eddie choked back a sob, his heart shattering into even smaller pieces as he witnessed first hand what he already knew Steve had gone through, knowing he'd never be able to scrub the image from his mind.
“The sooner you accept that, the sooner your suffering will come to an end.” The words spilled forth from the gaping maw that Steve’s mouth had become.
Eddie cried out, screaming his pain wordlessly.
The music picked up suddenly, getting louder as the song reached its middle, giving Eddie the strength to look away—and finally he spotted it, a faint glow like the promise of sunshine coming in through an open window, emanating from somewhere behind Vecna, through the doorway to the kitchen.
He took a few stumbling steps back, the disfigured visage of Vecna-Steve following his every move, and faked a run for the front door, pivoting at the last second to switch direction down the hallway, entering the kitchen from its other side and dove into the hazy mirage head first without hesitation.
-
Eddie came-to with a shuddering gasp. He was on the floor, headphones shoved over his head and Metallica blasting in his ears. Strong arms circled him from behind, rocking him gently as a soft voice mumbled the same three words over and over again.
“Please be okay, please be okay, please be okay.”
“Stevie?” Eddie wheezed, out of breath and a little disoriented from his sudden fall back to reality. Which was saying something, considering he’d died and come back as many times as he had. He reached up, hesitantly pulling the headphones down around his neck.
“Oh my god.” Steve let out a rush of breath, sounding relieved as he slid himself around to Eddie’s side, still cradling him in his arms. He looked Eddie up and down, as if assessing him for physical damage, a haunted look in his eyes.
“You’re okay?” Steve said. Part statement, part question.
When he didn't answer right away Steve pursed his lips, concern evident on his face as he raised a hand up to gently brush the tears from Eddie’s wet cheeks. He hadn’t even known he was crying.
Eddie blinked up at him, caught between wanting to bury himself in the other boy’s chest, and the instinct to shove him away. He had Vecna’s vicious words stuck in his head now, replaying over and over again.
He knew it wasn’t real. Steve hadn’t said those things, would never have said those things. They weren’t his thoughts or feelings even if they were said with his voice. Eddie knew all of that, but still it was enough to taint what little comfort he might have allowed himself to take from Steve’s embrace.
That bastard had stolen Steve's face and used Eddie’s own insecurities against him, and it’d worked like a fucking charm.
He sat up slowly, pushing Steve away with a firm hand on his chest. Steve frowned, actually tried to push back for a moment, to keep holding Eddie, before realizing what he was doing and backed off to give him space.
“Is that… that was Vecna, right?” Steve asked.
“Yeah, it was him.” Eddie pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes hard enough to see stars. If only it would erase the image of Steve’s broken form from his mind.
“I’m so sorry.”
Eddie dropped his hands from his face abruptly to stare at the other boy. “What do you have to be sorry for?” He asked, incredulous.
“You tried to tell me how bad it was and I–I argued with you. That was the most terrifying few minutes of my life, and I was going to force you to watch that—again! How many times did you have to watch it happen to Chrissy? To me? I’m such an asshole” Steve closed his eyes, sniffling as he shook his head. “I’d still rather it be me than you, or Chrissy, or any of the kids, but it was… selfish of me to put you in the position to have to save me again on purpose. So, I’m sorry”
“It’s not—you’re not selfish, and you’re not an asshole either.” Eddie sighed heavily. “And I hate to admit it, but you may have had a point. We can’t bait Vecna with something he doesn’t want, someone he isn’t actively after. I guess now that someone’s gonna be me.”
“How will that work? You’re just as much of a stranger to El as Chrissy is.”
Eddie tightened his jaw, readying himself for another fight, but Steve quickly raised his hands in surrender. “I'm not–I'm not trying to—I'm just raising a concern.”
“I’m not letting anyone else go through that if we don’t have to, ok? We’ll ask El about it when we can, and go from there.”
Steve nodded reluctantly. “Okay.”
-
Steve searched through his closet and dug up his old walkman for Eddie to use since he’d given his own up for Chrissy. There was nothing wrong with it, just an outdated model. A new pair of batteries and he was all set.
They made Eddie’s tape in relative silence, save for the music itself which they kept turned low to save his head—a side effect of the Vecna attack being a massive fucking headache.
The girls returned a few hours later, looking completely dejected and exhausted. They still hadn’t been able to find Fred.
Nancy didn’t stay long, wanting to get back to her own house to keep an eye on the kids, and it wasn’t until she left that the other two noticed the change in Eddie, and what he now wore over his head.
Chrissy came up to him first, throwing her arms around his shoulders and resting her cheek on his chest. “Oh no, Eddie, you too?”
He hugged her back, and as bad as the day had been, he couldn’t help smiling to himself a little. He’d been so sure that he had ruined any chance of friendship with her this time around, but the easy affection gave him hope that it wasn’t a lost cause just yet.
“I’m okay, Chris.” He assured her as they separated. “Harrington had my back.”
-
In a bid for normalcy, and while they had nothing better to do, Steve ordered some takeout for all of them to share while Eddie put his movie on—hours later than intended, but better late than never.
He tried to enjoy it—the food, the conversation, hanging out with these people he’d come to care for like family—but his heart was in the past. Instead of the TV screen in front of him he saw Steve fighting off a grin as he’d watched Eddie flutter around the kitchen cooking for them. In place of the drink in his hand, he felt the warm press of Steve’s palm in his, remembering the way he’d laced their fingers together and held on all the way upstairs that night.
Giggles coming from the other side of the room were what brought Eddie back to the present, and he glanced over to see that Chrissy and Robin had drifted awfully close to one another on the couch they shared, even resting their heads together as he watched.
Not thinking he nudged Steve's shoulder with his own to point it out, wondering when they themselves had gotten this close, and tilted his head in the girls direction.
Steve glanced over, smiling at first but then his body went visibly tense, eyes guarded as he looked back at Eddie.
Oh.
“You don’t have to worry I–” Eddie only barely managed to stop himself from coming out, though he wasn’t sure why, and changed course mid sentence. “I'm cool with—Robin. I just think it’s sweet that they’re getting close again.”
Steve took him at his word, relaxing immediately. “Again?” He whispered back excitedly.
Eddie nodded and went back to watching the girls, glad that this particular thing was a staple of the loops.
Once the credits rolled and the girls made their way up to bed, Eddie helped Steve clean up, picking up trash and carrying their few dishes to the sink. He fled as soon as they were done, saying a quick goodnight before rushing to the downstairs bathroom to change and laying himself down on the couch, the big one this time. Dustin had been right, it was a lot more comfortable.
He assumed he’d gotten away with it, that Steve had already gone up the stairs, but less than a minute later Steve came striding into the room carrying two blankets. He tossed one to Eddie before wrapping the other around himself, and settled down on the other couch.
“What are you doing?”
“Sleeping.”
“Steve.”
They both sat up, staring daggers at each other from across the room.
Steve broke the standoff first. “I don’t think you should be alone. What if something happens, or your tape runs out? Since you seem to have something against sleeping in a bed with me again, I figured I'd just join you down here. It’s fine.”
“Fuck’s sake.” Eddie grumbled.
So much for keeping this one boundary, but he’d manage somehow. He suspected Steve still felt like he must have done something wrong before, and Eddie couldn’t live with him feeling guilty over something that wasn’t his fault. And, he supposed, there was no use in both of them sleeping on couches when there was a perfectly good bed upstairs.
Eddie reluctantly got up, flinging a throw pillow at Steve’s smug face as he did. “Come on then, big boy. Lead the way.”
-
In the familiar comfort of Steve's room, Eddie laid on his back and stared up at the ceiling, hugging his side of the bed to keep as much space as possible between them. He was exhausted from the attack, from the day in general, but his heart pounded as he found himself surrounded by all things Steve. His scent on the sheets, his pillow under Eddie’s head, his clothes strewn about the room.
He breathed it all in deep, and, still keeping his eyes pointed forward, finally dared to ask the question.
“How did you know what song to play for me?”
Steve shifted around, turning on his side to face him.
“It was the tape from your Walkman. The kids took it out last night after they made Chrissy’s and left it sitting out on the table. It was a lucky guess, really. I just hoped that whatever you had been listening to last would work.”
Eddie’s breath caught in his throat. He’d survived by simple chance and dumb luck, and sure he was old hat at dying by now, but it didn't make the idea any less scary. He turned too, meeting Steve's eyes through the dark.
“Thank you, that was… good thinking.”
“I was so afraid it wouldn’t work. One second we were screaming at each other and then you went so still. Your eyes rolled back and–” Steve’s voice cracked, unable to finish.
“I know.” Eddie whispered. And he did know, far too well, what it was like to feel so powerless.
He started to reach out, wanting so badly to cup Steve’s cheek or pull him close, but let his hand drop to the bed between them mid-motion. Steve slid his own hand closer, inch by inch until their pinkies touched, and then oh-so-slowly, he tucked his whole hand under Eddie's, entwining their fingers and gripping him tight.
“I don’t know what I would have done if it hadn’t worked.”
Eddie swallowed a whine, praying Steve couldn't hear it, and squeezed back. He didn’t have the strength to pull away, though he knew with every touch came the potential to break him beyond repair.
Chapter 9
Special thanks to @penny00dreadful for being the best beta, friend and cheerleader.
Reblogs are always appreciated and if you want to be tagged, just let me know! I'd be more than happy to do so 💜
Taglist: @hitlikehammers @pearynice @cranberrymoons @thoroughlycollected @blubblesandink @finntheehumaneater @brbsoulnomming @estrellami-1 @hellion-child @manda-panda-monium @spicysix @kikidoesfanfic @dreamwatch @lawrencebshoggoth @stillfullofshit @lil-gremlin-things @mamafaithful @klausinamarink @starlight-archer
#steddie fanfic#time loop#pov eddie munson#steve harrington#eddie munson#steddie#stranger things#steve x eddie#steve harrington/eddie munson#steddie fic#robin buckley#chrissy cunningham
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Matt Murdock x Reader - Take Me to Church
A/N - please don't read this chapter if you aren't into religious kinks! Just a warning!
Content Warnings/Kinks: religious content/blasphemy/Catholic kink, dominance, praise kink, hickeys, hair pulling, spanking, cum swallowing, fingering, oral sex, unprotected sex
Take Me to Church
Y/n and Matt trickled to the front of the church with the other patrons, she craned her neck, watching as the others left the sacred space. But Y/n had an idea. Listening to the Father's sermon on sins of impurity left her feeling well...a little distracted. It was especially hard when Matt's strong fingers had been rubbing what seemed like innocent circles around the skin on her thigh as he had lectured the city's churchgoers, saints and sinners, alike.
Since everyone had already left the church beside them, Y/n pulled Matt by the tie to a dark corner, cloaked in shadow.
"Y/n" he started, "What are yo-"
She cut his words off with a kiss. His lips were still for a second before he returned his girlfriend's passion with heat. His tongue begged for entrance, licking along her bottom lip. He gripped her waist, which was covered only by her short floral sundress, tightly.
"Mmm," she moaned into the kiss, pulling him closer.
He pressed up against her, causing her to gasp as she felt his cock, hard in his tight, black pants.
"D'you feel what you're doing to me, sweetheart?
She whimpered in response.
"Matt" she then begged before whispering desperately in his ear, "I need you"
Matt grabbed her by the wrist and dragged her out of the shadowy corner, away from the front of the church, before shoving her into the confessional booth.
"Matt-" she protested.
"Kneel" he commanded in a dominant voice.
Y/n knew what it meant when Matt talked to her using that tone. She backed into the booth before sinking to her quietly onto her knees, looking up as Matt pulled the curtain closed behind him. She slunk her hand down his front until she reached the edge of his belt.
"May I, Father?" She asked, her tone innocent.
Matt's cock strained in his pants at her words. He nodded sharply, prompting her to begin. Y/n started by placing kisses around the tip of his red, hard cock, causing him to breathe in sharply.
"Such a good girl" he mused as she continued, pushing the hair back from her face before pulling it into his fist and tugging, jerking her head back.
She kissed down his shaft before licking it on her way back up to the tip. Then, Y/n took his cock fully into her mouth, sliding down it until she gagged, indicating that she couldn't take anymore. She bobbed up and down like this, making Matt groan. After a while, she slowed her pace, sucking hard on his cock before detaching from it with a satisfying popping sound.
Y/n spat onto her fingers before beginning to stroke his wet shaft, using twisting motions. She kissed the skin on his lower stomach as she jerked him off before sinking lower. Matt's breathing was heavy in anticipation.
"Put them in your mouth" he commanded, gripping her hair even tighter than before.
Y/n smiled before complying. As she moved her hands up and down his cock, which was now bursting with pre-cum, she took his balls into her mouth, sucking light on them.
"Fuck I'm going to cum" he grunted, pulling her up off of him.
He jerked himself off as she knelt in front of him, her mouth wide open, ready to swallow his load. When he finally squirted his cum into her mouth, she was ready for him. She swallowed it without hesitation, making Matt smile, satisfied.
"Good girl" he praised, holding his hand out.
She grabbed it gratefully as he helped her to her feet. It was only a second before he was pushing her up against the wooden back wall of the confessional and kissing her until her head spun. He attacked her neck, which he knew was her most sensitive area, leaving a trail of hickeys behind. Matt kissed his way down from her neck until he reached her pussy which was getting wetter and wetter as he ran his strong hands up and down her thighs.
"Sweetheart?" He practically cooed, "You want it?"
"Yes," she breathed, her pussy tingling in anticipation.
"Yes, what?"
Y/n's face flushed.
"Yes, please Father" she whispered back, her cheeks heating up slightly.
He pushed her panties to the side, running one finger up her slit before leaning forward and kissing her clit. He then began, his tongue first curling inside her pussy, warming her up.
"Matt. Please." she begged incoherently, pulling at his chestnut curls.
Smirking cockily, he leaned down and licked a long, teasing stripe from her slit up to her clit. When he started licking it, the pleasure she felt was immediate and full in her lower belly. Y/n's inner thighs squeezed, gripping his cheeks as he worked her clit with his tongue, her face flushing. She sighed as heat and pleasure began to rise up in her body.
"Yes" she groaned, "Just like that"
She moaned loudly as he ramped things up, pulling her clit into his mouth and sucking. His strong hands gripped her ass cheeks, pulling her closer to him. She watched him hungrily, grinding her hips to meet every flick of his tongue within the suction he'd created around her wet surface. Matt kissed and licked and sucked until the familiar sensation began to sneak up on her body.
"You want fingers sweetheart?" He asked, breaking away from her throbbing clit.
"Mm hm," she nodded desperately, pulling him back toward her pussy.
Matt slipped a single finger into her, immediately curling them upward within her. It wasn't long before she came, the combination of his thick fingers within her and his suction around her clit was overwhelming. She squeezed her eyes shut tightly, whining as the feeling washed over her body, spreading outward from her clit and her insides.
"Fuck" she cursed, her voice a low whimper as the waves of her orgasm wore off.
Y/n then walked backward, her legs shaking, until her back hit the wall of the confessional. Gripping him by the tie, she pulled Matt back with her so that he was pressed up against her, his erection hitting her stomach.
She kissed his cheek softly before whispering in his ear,
"Bless me Father for I have sinned..."
"What is your sin sweetheart?" He cooed back immediately, playing along.
"You know all too well" she whispered darkly before adding, "I have committed unholy sins of impurity with you"
"Hmm" he murmured, "I think you need to be punished"
"Will you punish me, Father?" She asked, feigning innocence in the way she knew he loved.
Matt suddenly flipped her around so that her front was up against the wooden wall. He then bunched her dress up so that her bare ass was exposed to him before leaning down to administer her first spanking.
SMACK
She whimpered at the feeling.
SMACK
"Count them out, sweetheart"
SMACK
"Three"
SMACK
"Four"
SMACK
"Five"
They continued until he had punished her ten times and her ass was red and sore.
"Good girl" he praised, caressing the soft skin gently.
He flipped her back around before moving so that he was sitting on the bench in the booth.
"C'mere sweetheart" he gestured to her with his hands.
She came over to him, spreading her legs so she could climb onto his lap.
"Ready Father?" She asked.
"Ready"
She slid down on him, taking only a bit more than the tip into her wet pussy, and rocking back and forth. Her hands were pressed on his taut chest, she could almost feel his heart beating below her spread fingers. She tilted her hips downward as she moved, allowing his cock to dig even deeper into her causing her to wince slightly. Matt reached his hands forward, squeezing her warm breasts with his strong hands as she began to bounce up and down on his hard, cock, fighting through the mix of pain and pleasure.
"Oh God" she moaned, throwing her head back.
"Fuck God sweetheart" he chuckled darkly, kissing her neck, "He's not the one whose cock is stretching you out like this"
Y/n whimpered. She loved it when Matt talked dirty to her. Her pussy tightened at his words as she continued to grind on his perfectly curved cock.
She bounced and bounced and bounced until she could feel that her legs were getting sore but still she continued, desperate to cum. Matt's cock slipped easily in and out of her, making her feel whole, filled, in every way. He pleased her even more by slicking his fingers and connecting them to her clit, rubbing them in circles around it.
"I'm so close" she whimpered soon after in his ear as the feeling surged up within her, "so close"
As she approached her orgasm her movements got sloppier but Matt held her body up, one of his strong hands planted firmly on her waist, gripping onto her burning skin as the other roughly thumbed at her clit. He then began thrusting his cock upward which pleased her even more, making her insides squeeze tightly around his cock in response.
"Don't. Stop." She begged, grabbing onto his muscular arms, her words barely escaping her lips.
"I know sweetheart, I know," he said, the heat of his words tickling her ear.
She leaned forward, kissing down his neck as both their groans filled the confessional booth and even the domed ceiling of the church outside it, echoing off every surface.
"Cum for me" he commanded through gritted teeth as he held back his orgasm.
It took only three more thrusts for Y/n to come undone. Her breath hitched as she came, the warmth spreading through her body from the inside out. Matt grunted at the feeling of her walls, tightening, her pussy practically milking him.
"That's a good girl" he praised in a low, raspy voice, leaning forward and kissing the crook of her neck as he came himself, "So good cumming for me"
"Ahh" she whimpered as she felt his cum spread within her and the waves of her orgasm begin to subside.
Y/n got up off of his cock, her legs shaking, allowing their juices to run out of her pussy and onto the floor.
"We better get out of here before someone catches us" Matt chuckled.
"Whatever you say, Father"
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yo ima get straight to business :)))
matt murdock + blasphemy kink
1.5K Follower Celebration
I’m putting my bets in now that I’ll get yelled at work tomorrow out of pure coincidence (see my post about me getting yelled at on Tuesday)
Sinning in the confessional booth
“Forgive me father for I have sinned” you whisper as your hand wraps around his cock. Nerves on edge from the excitement of where you are. Matt’s knee already weak.
“Therefore I say to you… oh fuck… any sin and blasphemy shall be forgiven people. Yeah, but blasphemy against the Spirit shall not be forgiven. Matthew, oh shit, tw-twelve, thirty one.”
#1500 follower celebration#marvel#marvel fandom#marvel smut#marvel imagine#matt murdock x reader smut#matt murdock#matt murdock x reader#Matt Murdock smut#daredevil x reader#daredevil#daredevil smut#daredevil x reader smut#p link
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gems from my poetry notebook
transcriptions [and some commentary] under the cut
concrete imagery bitch
i dont know anymore
could just remove instead of replace --> fuck it, remove these. no replacements
nah, original
draw on my 'wonderful daring feel for the erotic' for this part a little [a comment i received on an early draft of this collection i did for a class]
needs some better energy & shit
IMAGERY
okay maybe there's a lot i can work on
[screenshot from a comment i recieved] 'a great title for this poem. i so enjoyed the unapologetic eroticism and 'blasphemous' toying with religious iconography' [the poem was called 'blasphemy'. it was about fucking a girl in a church]
what is this??? you dumb bitch
do like, not sure will leave in for now
nah, no enjambment there --> maybe see how it looks --> yes enjambment
irony is the fact [redacted] only did photography for the art portfolio. it wasn't 'her thing'
valid, my beloved ['valid' was the first poem i performed, it is a very important poem to me]
def. not necessary
do not refer to your friends as twinks in work you're gonna publish please
what if it was a lot more like a cliche breakup poem? [this was a poem titled 'breaking up with god while coming out to him]
i don't wanna write this one anymore
[pencil drawing of a girl with an eyepatch covering her left eye and a sword strapped to her back, on a blue background with a gold boarder]
yo, what if i wrote a poem where it's literally ritualistic cannibalism? [this was a poem about my first communion called 'committing ritualistic cannibalism at the ripe age of eight'. i did end up writing a version called 'actually committing ritualistic cannibalism at the ripe age of eight'. google doc with both poems are available upon request]
#lohst.txt#there are so many poems in here that are just *covered* in red ink#where i basically just rewrote the entire thing
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??? (silly zombie): *giggle*
Peyton: "Damn loser. The door's right there."
Sam: "THIS IS NOT THE TIME TO START TALKING TO THAT- THAT!"
Kat: "WE'RE FUCKING LEAVING."
*they run until peytons phone dies, in other words they ran for two minutes*
Peyton: "MY PHOOOOONEEE!!"
Kat: "SHUT THE FUCK UP AND KEEP RUNNING."
Peyton: "NO."
Kat: "YES."
Peyton: "NO."
Kat: "YES."
Peyton: "NO."
Kat: "YES."
Peyton: "NO."
Kat: "YES."
Peyton: "NO."
Kat: "YES."
Peyton: "NO."
Kat: "YES."
Peyton: "NO."
Kat: "GOD.fine. c'mon sam lets go"
Sam: "So we're just leaving her?"
Kat: "Yes. Come on"
Peyton: "stupid santa baby- i mean sammy baby- i mean sam is a who-"
Kat: "SHUT IT."
Kat: "Come on, just leave this queer shit to rot."
*they find a dennys cutely*
Sam: "yo there's people inside actually eating!!!"
Kat: "Okay, whatever. Just go inside before these expired teenage mutant turtles come after us again."
Waiter: "aight what an i get for yall?"
Sam: "I want a pizza with p-"
Kat: "Shut the FUCK up. they don't sell pizza."
Sam: "I want a PIZZA."
Kat: "THEY DON'T SELL PI-"
Sam: "WITH PINEAPPLE AND FRIES."
Waiter: "..."
Kat: "..."
Sam: ":3"
Kat: "FIRST of all. NO PIZZA."
Sam: ":<"
Kat: "SECOND OF ALL. Who the hell EATS PIZZA with PINEAPPLE and FRIES?"
Sam: "me"
Kat: *fucking slaps him*
Sam: "YEEEOWWCH."
Waiter: "SHUT."
Waiter: "THE FUCK UP."
Waiter: "WHAT FUCKING EDIBLE SUBSTANCES DO YOU WANT TO SHOVE DOWN YOUR THROAT?"
Sam: "FINE. I want a birthday c-"
Waiter: "Oh it's your BIRTHDAY?"
Waiter: *clears throat*
Waiter: "Haaappy birrrrthdaaay tooooooo yooooouuu."
Waiter: "Haaappy birrrrthdaaay tooooooo yooooouuu."
Sam: "shut the fu-"
Waiter: "haaappy BIRRRRTHDAAAY DEEEEAR GAAAAYAAAASSS!!"
Waiter: "HAAPPY BIIIIRTHDAAAY TOOOO Y-"
Kat: "OH MY SATAN. SHUT UP."
Kat: "CAN I GET-"
Waiter: "Ohhh you want the answers to the CROSSWORD?"
Waiter: "One down is Algebra. One across is Angler fish. Two is South america. Three is-"
Kat: "NO."
Waiter: "ANSWERS TO THE FIND THE DIFFERENCE?"
Sam: "WH-"
Waiter: "THE YELLOW HAT, THE FLAG ON THE BUILDING, THE MANS DIC-"
Kat: "WHAT."
Waiter: "DO YOU WANT THE ANSWERS OR NOT?"
Kat: "NO."
Waiter: "WHAT DO YOU WANT?"
Sam: "TO ORDER."
Waiter: "okay what blasphemy do you want?"
Sam: "Mayonnaise."
Waiter: "what."
Sam: "three packs of mayonnaise."
Waiter: "Go fuck yourself."
Waiter: "you. what do you want?"
Kat: "You to go do a backflip off the eiffel tower."
Waiter: "..."
Waiter: "food"
Waiter: "we sell food"
Waiter: "not make your DAMN wishes come true."
Kat: "SHUT UP YOU WALKING FETUS."
Waiter: "YOU SHUT UP."
Waiter: *sob*
Sam: "what the hell was that for?"
Kat: "eh don't worry"
Kat: "I was just in"
Kat: "a silly goofy mood."
#sam broadly#katlynn johnson#peyton mclinn#fanfiction#fanfic#authors of tumblr#writers on tumblr#brokenly beloved#alex mclinn
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HCS-La Squadra’s Dictionary, where are they from? Part 4
Part 1 Melone and Ghiaccio
Part 2 Formaggio and lluso
Part 3 Risotto and Prosciutto
Pesci;
Pesci
Campania, (Eboli)
Pesci grew up with his nonni in Eboli, but after their death he spent all his adolescence in Naples.
He loved his nonna more than anything else.
"Ua" to express every kind of emotion.
He wasn't exactly the smartest kid at school, but he always had a good nature.
Pesci has some problems speaking correct Italian.
His Italian teacher used to slap his fingers with a rule when he got a conjugation wrong.
A Zizzona enjoyer. (it's a kind of mozzarella)
He would drink coffee at anytime of the day. Risotto and Prosciutto do this too.
In Naples, he moved into the Le vele di Scampia neighborhood.
Le vele di Scampia was known to be one of the most dangerous blocks in Naples because of the Camorra.
Pesci started smoking since he moved to Scampia.
"Carlo Levi ha scritto 'Cristo s'è fermato ad Eboli' perché non ha mai visto Scampia" (Carlo Levi wrote 'Christ Stopped at Eboli' because if he'd stopped in Scampia, they'd steal his cross.)
Napoletano and Salernitano (and its variation: Ebolitano) are probably the richest dialects in expressions.
Pesci making an overnight snack at 3 a.m.
"STO FACENN NU MARONN E CACIO E MACCARUN E NESSUN HA DA SCASSA' U CAZZ."
(I'M MAKING FUCKING MAC AND CHEESE AND NOBODY CAN STOP ME.)
Pesci after seeing Ghiaccio slipping on his own ice:
"Agg pariat a vita mij, sto murenn!"
(I've never had so much fun in my life! Now I can rest in peace...)
Pesci whispering to himself after being unfairly reproached by Prosciutto
"...par o cazz"
(You dumbass...)
Pesci when Melone hasn't pronounced a "C" because of his thick accent, and nobody has understood a single word.
"tien a guerr n' cap...fa pac co'c'rviell"
(Make peace with your brain because you're so confused that you can't understand your own words.)
Pesci when someone underestimate him
"O scè ij teng e spall o cupert, e capit a chi apparteng?"
(Don't you know who I belong to?)
Pesci when asks for something to Risotto or Prosciutto
"mai pu cumann."
(Please, don't feel obliged to.)
Favorite expressions (dialect)
"Uè, fratm!" (Yo Bro!)
"Agg capit..." (Got it...)
"Jamm bell!" (Let's go!)
"Uanm" (I don't know. No seriously, I literally have no idea about what's going on)
"Aumm Aumm" (To do something in a sneaky way)
"Facimm a croc" (Like it or not, we gotta deal with it)
"Ma over faj?" (Are you serious?)
"M staj abbuffann la uallera" (You're boring me)
"Sto prorij na chiavc" (I feel sick/I'm in pain)
"Foss a maronn." (I hope so.)
"Accusì nun va'..." (That's no good...)
"Uagliò!" (Dude!)
"Agg semb trmmat e fridd, maij e paur." (Ironical: "I'm shaking with fear, I'm so scared!")
"A 'bbona 'e Dio." (Whatever happens...)
"Teng o' cor' ind o zuccr." (I think I'm in love.)
"Assa fa a maronn." (Finally...)
"...lo dici a 'soreta!" (Typical comeback that can be translated as: your sister!)
"Stamm nguiat." (We're screwed.)
"Chella granda zompapereta e mammeta." (Your mom's a big bitch.)
"M' agg scassat u cazz." (I'm fucking done.)
"SFACCIM!" (Typical imprecation)
"Accideti!" (Die.)
"Vafammocc a mammeta." (Son of a bitch!)
"Chittammuort." (Go fuck yourself)
"Omm e merd." (Piece of shit.)
"Cap ‘e cazz." (Shithead.)
"MARO'." (Damn!)
"Chiav’t a lengua ‘ncul, Strunz"(Shut up, fucker.)
"Va' a fa na casc e bucchin." (Go deepthroat everyone in your town.)
"Mamm ro carmmn" (typical imprecation)
"LEVT A NANZ!!" (Get out of my way!)
"MANNAGGIA U L'ENT CRIST!" (This clever imprecation substitutes a terrible blasphemy.)
#la squadra esecuzioni#la squadra#pesci#jjba pesci#golden wind#Naples#Napoli#made in italy#jojo in italiano#vento aureo#jojo's bizarre adventure#risotto#prosciutto
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I just want to say, I knew it would happen but it’s still gross to see the double standards, but how Maya and wahaj were raked over the coals for their mushq photoshoot but YumHaj and even Hamza and Seher are getting tons of praise for their equally as scandalous poses is …super amusing. I’ve never seen quite as much misogyny come from other women as I did for maya in that one photo shoot, but other actresses doing the exact same thing is ok because that’s a fan favorite pair. (Also, I think it’s stupid how our awaam cannot fathom a pairing outside of a recent hit; people complain about wahaj and his “overexposure” post TB, but they also don’t want him to be anything besides Murtasim. Like bro needs to act with others, too, but the audience out there behaves like someone committed blasphemy when an actor from a hit pairing acts with someone else.). To be clear, I don’t want any actress receiving hate for doing her job, it’s just sad how blatant the hate was and for such a stupid reason that Maya wasn’t yumna.
And also I’m just gonna say it—nobody in any recent photo shoot had the chemistry of maya and wahaj. You can just tell how comfortable they are with each other. They did hot, innocent, longing, surprise, admiration…literally everything. What range, yo. Even if for notorious reasons, people are still talking about the Mushq photo shoot while their faves’ photo sessions came and went without making any waves sorry not sorry.
Finally, I’ve been seeing people start to blame Maya for the downfall of wahaj post-TB, as if she forced him to sign MPHT, Mein, etc. Like it is so ridiculous out there, we are blaming a woman instead of holding a grown ass actor accountable for not choosing better roles.
Khaled Hosseini said it for men but the quote fits here as well cuz eh..it's a man involved.
“Like a compass needle that points north, a man's accusing finger always finds a woman. Always.”
just replace "man" with "fangirls of a man".
i have this shit behavior happen across the board again and again that I now consciously try to be numb to it. it's always the same. blame the woman. blame her for coming in between a ship. or blame her for being close to the man. or blame her for just existing. in all cases the man is the bechara masoom who doesn't know any better. it's the woman who has trapped him. it's the woman being insecure. it's the woman controlling his every action. never man, never him. and of course it's always the women who blame the woman.
you didn't mention Anmol Baloch here. Hamza Sehar fans are also hating on her because Hamza did the ghor paap of working with her and promoting his show with her. idk how true the rumors of their relationship are; they shouldn't MEAN anything. like any other pairing, Anmol and Hamza had all the right to do photoshoots in character to promote on their insta pages. that is not a right reserved just for their fav jodi. ANY fav jodi. these are actors. it's the world of social media. promotion on their public accounts is now a part of their JOB. they are all fucking PAID for it. and when money is involved, more times than less it becomes the main motivation. if these fans think their favs don't ask for money to promote their certain fav jodi because that's where their "true love and passion" lies then..i don't even know what to say.
and really I pity Wahaj as well. his own "fans" are close to blackmailing him to not expand his boundaries at all. him doing multiple photoshoots is "overexposure" but him doing them with Yumna is "using the small window of opportunity of being the most popular thing in the industry to its maximum benefit." arey??? it just comes down to what kind of fandom one has amassed over their career. like if on one hand Wahaj fans are criticizing his overexposure, MK fans are making flippant comments about inflation that has made MK do back to back three bridal campaigns. hypocrisy? i don't even wanna care.
frankly i am TIRED of searching Maya's name and seeing it just in connection with Wahaj. i love Mushq. MY BESTIE SERVED ME IN WAYS I CANNOT EXPLAIN! just last night i was rewatching the clips and oh my HEART it's beautiful beautiful beautiful BEAUTIFULLLLLL!! but i have to admit i HATE how Maya's entire existence has been shrunk to that photoshoot only. she's being used both by the yumhaj fans and the non-yumhaj fans as a weapon to use to attack others or defend their own favs. i doubt any one really cares about HER because then i'd actually see her be talked about individually or her projects. but no. it's always "they have been friends for years". like yes so WHAT? baar baar mention karna zaroori hai???
it's just no use trying to sense with these kind of people. i can only hope we get an official annoucement of Maya's next work again so she can leave this behind.
#urgh.#i am just tired of saying the same thing again and again#it's no USE expecting sense when the entire bunch of people have different rules for different people#there's no sense of justice here#sabko bass apne fav ki hi padi hai#aur isski padi hai ke innka fav inhen innka fav content deta rahe#bass.
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You know, on a "humans are strange, naked monkeys" level, the last few months are really interesting to look at. There's a lot of studies about like, the level people will go to, to maintain their psychological bubble, even if that bubble is built on lies.
In fact, the one person in question I'm pretty sure has self-groomed themselves into a schizoaffective disorder, and even then. Schizoid disorders are often contingent on the person maintaining a narrative. Things like DID come from trauma repression and the narrative becomes a wholeass person, but schizoid disorders are less centralized--but just as in desperate need to be rationalized.
Like, there were a BUNCH of warning signs that person needed to go to a motherfucking shrink, ASAP. Between the jibberish and the plagiarism, and the Wrong Path acknowledgement, that should have been Intervention Time, not Enabling Time.
But then you get OTHER selfish monkeys that also are now dependent on that narrative, so they keep enabling it.
One has to remove the haze of "all religions are valid." Religion is not valid when it is a series of excuses and a cloak for mental unwellness, especially if it rejects all actual texts or tradition from any given religion and is just cobbling its own nonsense-street dialogue together to hold to for dear fucking life and dependence above all others, and the actual religions or documents don't matter, just the cult schizoid remix does.
No seriously if the "religion" is all like... blasphemy and ignorance and refusing to read actual shit... that ain't religion that's a fucking cult of Reasons. Reasons to be, do, act, think whatever someone wants without consequence, being able to hold up a veneer against judgment for their fetishes hoping people are too ignorant to the context while trying to put in their opinions as religion unto itself.
I don't know how to tell fluffy pagan tumblr this, but sometimes, people are in fact just fucking nuts. Or evil. Or manipulative. These things do exist. And the pagan community is not immune to it. If anything it's more susceptible, because it used to be something in hidden corners, but now it's going mainstream, and not only was the old population not used to the commercialization of this, but the new kids can just shit into the internet to shit in a pot with all the other new kids encouraging them to do shit that back in the day, elder practitioners would be like, yo, you might wanna slow down.
The internet's rabid individualism unto the point of deep, deep retardation makes it so telling people to slow down is a sin, nobody can comment, everything is relative, everybody's a motherfucking leader and can't take advice unless it's something they CHOSE to reblog, and if a con artist tilts their picture twenty seven times with a matching reblog of a disembodied point from somewhere else, they might find a way for their nonsense to actually almost stick. And then you get blogs full of nonsense, teaching other aspiring blogs nonsense, and you end up with a mix of crazy people and literal commercialized cult leaders leading the blind noobs
I just... even when it's manifested not just to be walls of text and funny ad drops that don't seem to match what they type into the internet, or people chattering online--even when it manifests into strangely specific birds, or deer falling from the sky, blizzards and car crashes with Frozen 3, moon guys that someone didn't realize seems a whole lot like a funny echo of Usher and his custom air jordans at the big game, or on-point dreams doing exactly what was told would happen, and other affects right in someone's life. The fact that even when they know they plagiarized work and skipped steps, they're still going to cling to the conscious narrative that is mentally unhinging them and has caused the grievous behavior for the last few years in one case, and that person's very rapid mental decline. But no. Not even that. Nothing will break the wall of denial and psychosis, even as it prances in front of them while they grab their head and repeat over and over they're fine and right and everything is relative and they can saydo whatever they want to believe.
Sometimes being a friend is telling your friend they're fucked in the head and need to see a shrink y'all. You don't sit there building tea parties with them encouraging it and expecting everyone else to sit down at the table across from mister fuzzy bear. That's not Respecting Their Faith, that's letting your friend go one flew over the cuckoo's fucking nest, and then that even ends up a reflection on our community as a whole, because y'all let a LOT of cuckoos in here lately.
Religions have like... structures, books, beliefs. So unless some of y'all want to say you're from Tumblrostrianism, most of you do not have a motherfucking religion or practice. Some do. Those people are cool, this post isn't for you, don't shove your foot in that shoe. But the ones that do? Mannnn. If you have to google your rituals and prayers, maybe you don't actually have a competent body of belief. Like even if you say "Wicca", most wiccans haven't actually read their own originating texts. And then there's ones that say 'eclectic pagan'--hell, I used to, when I didn't know what the FUCK I was doing, someone else even stole that phrase years late--and then it's like, path what? No this is a collage of fun mystical things I like, it doesn't cohesively lead anywhere. And then you stare at them like ??? while they're worshipping their TMNT statue or whatever.
And you don't even know where or how that person really made that, most people don't understand WHY something works, they just read that someone did a thing, then also try to do the thing, and like, the thing worked, right? But learning why it worked is like. f o r b i d d e n in some people's heads or some shit, so then it never actually fucking works.
It doesn't have to be like a christian bible or christian church, but most religions have something like a structured learning set and a few base books their tenets are based on, like if you're a christian you gotta at least know John 3:16 and the Psalm about the valley of the shadow of death, and about this jesus guy, right? Like you gotta know the basics to walk the path, and if you don't read the book you'll fuck up walking that path. Most gods or faiths have this, and yet the average witch can't tell that they're more worshipping and following social media.
If your pantheon looks like toys on a mantle that you talk to every few weeks then eat a favorite food as an offering after, that's not a fucking religion. That's a Collection. Sell it on ebay or something idfk. And if your invisible friends say they're a god but the things they tell you are in vast conflict with all the historic scholars of that god or whatever, maybe, just maybe, it's not a god, it's a mental disorder.
I bet five dollars that if I gathered up every participant of witchblr and tiktok, and asked them to give a summary of their belief structure, what they believe, where to find information on it, how it structures, why any of their magic works beyond "this herb has this property"--no like. But why. If you asked them to sit and tell you Why They Believe And What They Believe, I guarantee you at least half of them would be like "Um, do what thou wilt and harm none??? triple goddess. Quartz. I like shiny things. I found a spell to turn into a cat." And really I feel like that number is closer to 90% modernly.
Like, Mine's not hard. Here, here's mine: I don't even Believe, I just know. I've studied for a quarter century until I got a bunch of certificates from the government to do it 40 hours a week for good money. It is what it fucking is, but I learned it from psychology, anthropology, physics and philosophy, and I can point people at various starting points like the Kybalion, or Jung or Campbell, depending on how their brains operate. The universe is mental, all is mind, the universe reflects what we perceive, we are perceiving the universe as ourselves, and the more people perceive an idea the more "real" that is (eg if 1 crazy person makes up 1 random thing with 3 friends, they'll get drowned out by the billions). And we're all soul, memory, and can find our archetypes to remaster our higher selves from the gods and ancestors we are all transmigrated parts of if we do the hard work, and that's where shit like "magic" comes from, the resulting will and divinity. And that people are often lost to chasing their own shadows without processing them, and externalizing them as self protection rather than internalizing their own choices, rites and divinity. And then people go loopy. The goal of attainment is reunion with the One, even in life, but while in life being able to maintain an identity and sanity while connecting with All. Whether you become part of the machine or part of enshrined memory in death is its own debate of action, perspective and method after.
There. It's not perfect, it's not a complete overview of what I ~believe, but it's enough to have a summary of, huh, this person has a structure I could learn if I wanted, and there's a base fundamental and consistent system here, and it like, makes sense and has a lot of respected people that follow this, right down to quantum physicists and psychologists, wowza, but there's also all this old arcane knowledge to start looking at.
Those ~beliefs don't change. The universe will continue to Universe and operate as the Universe, and we're part of that universe. But most of you? Nah. Most of you couldn't summarize jack schitt. A bunch of you contradict your own beliefs often, or have mutually opposing beliefs and habits, and just never acknowledge it, you keep updating a narrative like a schizo. Come at me bro. I've got like Jung and physics in my corner, does your belief come from what a few friends on tumblr mumble about? The great source of fuckboiyaoi dot tumblr dot com.
I'm so tired of this bullshit "That's illegal, you can't tell people they're wrong in religion or magic." the fuck I can't. Our ability to self govern is the only thing that keeps us from acting like american christians yall hate so goddamn much, they don't listen for fuck to their gospel or original elders either. I don't care what language or whatever it's in, I'm tired of the community being saturated with enabled schizophrenics and roleplayers. The fact that the coven of Stalking And Worshipping My Dick pikachu faced that someone is actually doing magic and manifesting shit should honestly tell you everything you need to know about those people, they didn't think it was REAL, even if they charged people for it and used it as a shield for their behaviors and choices. And the second it got motherfuckin real they started panicking and running and trying to resolve it mundane modern society ways and lmao.
I'll share space with the reconstructionists even if they tend to be more cultural ritualism than spirituality, and I can respect that for its place in the world, but it's pretty hard to have intelligent conversations about the differences between cultural reconstruction and active spiritualism, or the people who are using it almost strictly for therapy and the validity that has in parallel journey, or their similarities, or where they meet and have the same effect-- it's hard as piss to have that conversation when I have to act like every 14 year old or schizoid or con artist or master class schizoid jibberish spewing delusional con artist that still act like 14 year olds at 40 on the internet gets to have a motherfucking opinion held at equal weight. Or kids trying to treat this like some fucking CW show fandom they can stan war in bullshit land forever in. No. If it's fiction to you, get the fuck away from me. We're not having the same motherfucking conversation, but the psychology of it still breaks down the same on needs, wants, and attachments.
You wanna know why the powerful "magic" is hidden in brotherhoods, lodges, closed practices and shit? It's not just to protect their power or culture or whatever. It's because the world is full of crazy jackasses that do not want to put in the fucking work. Not only does it protect the public, it protects the works themselves from being butchered the same way a schizophrenic fraudster thief butchered mine because I made the mistake of showing her any of it. A million tumblr kiddos can't fuck up the closed belief by pissing in the pot. It's not even just about "appropriation" kiddos, it about not letting you guys fuck everything up packing your literal made up nonsense horse shit in demanding to be treated special. It dilutes the work, the path, the power, it dilutes literally fucking everything. If you just got offended, I'm probably talking about you.
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Badboyhalo can say fuck he deserves it as little treat <3
(getting wisdom teeth out tommorow making this to ease the nerves)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Wilbur: So are we flirting right now?
Quackity: I AM LITERALLY STABBING YOU
Wilbur: That doesn’t answer my question
~~~~~~~~
Dream: Whaddya call a fish with no eye?
Techno, not looking up: Myxine Circifrons
Dream:
Dream: fsh
~~~~~~~~~
Tubbo: It’s dark in here
Ranboo: Don’t worry dude I got this
Ranboo: *Stomps their feet*
Ranboo: *Skechers light up*
~~~~~~~~
Ant: Sometimes I drink milk straight out of the container.
Bad: The cow???
Ant: What?
Puffy: , W H Y?
~~~~~~~~
Tommy: My heart is guarded but like… very poorly. The kind of guards that would let 3 kids in a trench coat into an R rated movie.
~~~~~~~~
Skeppy: I hate you!
Bad: I hate me more!
Skeppy:
Skeppy: Babe…. we’ve talked about this.
~~~~~~~~
Eret: If karma doesn't hit you, I fucking will.
~~~~~~~~
Kristin: *Slowly pushes a cannon into a 17th century bank* Okay everyone, be cool. This is a robbery.
~~~~~~~~
Eret: My gender is in a constant state of flux.
~~~~~~~~
Bad: Pros and cons of dating me.
Bad: Pros. You'll be the cute one.
Bad: Cons. oh muffin, where do I begin-
~~~~~~~~
Skeppy: im a wifegirl. im a male. im your every thing. im unemployed .
~~~~~~~~
Hannah*is playing pokemon go*
Hannah: Oh! There's a rare pokemon! DON’T MOVE!!
Tina: W-what?
Hannah: Just… don’t move. I’m going to catch it
Hannah*sneaks closer to tina*
Hannah*hugs her tightly*
Tina: What are you doing?!?!
Hannah: I CAUGHT IT! I CAUGHT THE CUTEST POKEMON!!!
~~~~~~~~
Bad: Have I stabbed you? No? Then i’m being nice
~~~~~~~~
Dream, in a teasing tone: Awwww you like me! Just admit it!
George stubbornly admitting: maybe I do
Dream: haha..wait, what?
~~~~~~~~
Bad: Please stop framing me for murder, just because i’ve killed over 1,846 people dosen’t mean I killed that specific one
~~~~~~~~
Tommy: [shoving glitter glue and felt pens back into his bag visibly upset] ok look all I’m saying is maybe you guys shouldn't have called it a ‘craft brewery’ because people are going to get the wrong idea and lemme tell you Karen this has been a big let down.
~~~~~~~~
Skeppy: Yo Bad! bring me some chips.
Bad: Maybe if you ask nicely
Skeppy: Oh wonderful and talented Badboyhalo, please bring me some crispy snacks so that I might behold your beauty!
Bad, bringing them chips: That's more like it.
~~~~~~~~
[Bad about to commit blasphemy]
Anyone else feel like God is just toying with you however he pleases. He thinks he's so funny. well i'm about to be hilarious.
~~~~~~~~
Fundy: we good?
Wilbur: WHO TOLD YOU YOU COULD LEAVE YOUR ROOM GO BACK IN THERE FURRY!
~~~~~~~~
Ponk: If I get pushed in a pool this summer I’m not swimming back up, enjoy your murder charge. Now everybody summer ruined. <3
~~~~~~~~
Bad: Now, the recipe calls for 2 shots of vodka.
Bad: *upends the bottle*
~~~~~~~~
Tommy: I don’t think the therapist is supposed to say ‘wow’ that many times during their first session with a client, but here we are.
~~~~~~~~
Bad: Alcohol is delicious! ...I mean, MAlicious. Sorry guys, I’m really drunk right now.
~~~~~~~~
Tommy: Can we go out to get icecream?
Kristin: Did you ask Phil?
Tommy: They said no.
Kristin: Then why did you ask me?
Tommy: They're not the boss of you.
Kristin, internally (It's a trap, it's a trap, it's a trap)
~~~~~~~~
*Everyone is playing a board game together*
Hannah: I will put 'A' down to make 'A'.
Antfrost: I will add onto your 'A' to make 'AT'.
Ponk: I will add onto your 'AT' to make 'RAT'.
Bad: I will add onto your 'RAT' to make 'BIOSTRATAGRAPHIC'.
Ponk: *flips the board*
~~~~~~~~
Hannah: You guys worried about Bad?
Antfrost: Totally!
Ponk: Yeah, they called me in the middle of the night and just yelled, "what do I do, what do I do, what do I do, what do I do?"
Hannah: And what'd you say?
Ponk: "I dunno, I dunno, I dunno, I dunno."
Antfrost:
Hannah: They're lucky to have you as a friend.
~~~~~~~~
Tubbo: *Talking to Eret* Oh, hi. I didn't see you there. Welcome to my abode. I'm glad you could join me.
Techno: But this is my abode.
Tubbo: ...
Tubbo: Welcome to my abode, I'm so happy to have you, guest.
~~~~~~~~
Eret: Make no mistake. Not only am I party rocking, but I am also in the house tonight.
Tubbo: But are you shuffling?
Eret: Everyday.
Techno: What language are you two speaking??
~~~~~~~~
Techno: Self care is stuff like taking a bubble bath or putting on a lot of make up if you like that, or taking a nice warm nap and stuff like that basically.
Tubbo: Self care is the burning heat when rage washes over you. self care is when you feel the bones crack under your powerful fists. self care is the fear in your enemies eyes.
Eret: Self care is stealing someones birthday cake just to eat the frosting.
Tubbo: If you touch my birthday cake I’ll make you eat your hands.
~~~~~~~~
Seapeekay, watching Foolish and Ponk fight: Are you sure they should be fighting? What if they get hurt?
Bad, not bothered by the chaos: It’s fine. They’re too evenly matched to hurt each other.
Seapeekay: Then... who’s the strongest out of you three?
Foolish: Bad.
Ponk: Bad.
Bad: Me.
~~~~~~~~
Ponk, Antfrost & Hannah: *screaming*
Bad: *runs into the room* What's wrong, Hannah?!
Ponk: Wait, why are you asking Hannah that when Antfrost and I are also here?
Bad: Because Hannah wouldn't scream unless it's an emergency. You two scream whenever you have the chance.
~~~~~~~~
Eret, talking about Tubbo: Is this a friend of yours, Techno?
Techno: Kind of? Not really. They're in my life and there's nothing I can do about it.
~~~~~~~~
Eret: Anyone else feel good when their brain releases a bunch of endorphins?
Techno: Can't relate.
Tubbo: Why would my brain release a bunch of dolphins?
~~~~~~~~
Bad: Can I offer you an egg in these trying times?
~~~~~~~~
at least 10 notes and i’ll make another...maybe
#incorrect quotes#mcyt incorrect quotes#dsmp incorrect quotes#dream smp incorrect quotes#landduo#badboyhalo and skeppy#c!bbh#tinakitten#hannahxxrose#eret#Eret my beloved#tommyinnit#foolish gamers#kristen mumza#antfrost#captain puffy#wilbur soot#Beeduo#tubbo#ranboo#skephalo incorrect quotes#landduo my beloved#bad needs help and a hug#technoblade#eret techno and tubbo#rival duo#a smidge of#quackbur#eggpire#fundy
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Un(holy) Trinity
Pairing: Dabi x Fem!Reader x Shigaraki
Content: 18+ dubcon/noncon, threesome, manhandling, rough sex, corruption, degradation, humiliation, breathplay, stepcest, breeding, blasphemy and sacrilege, elements of mindbreak and god complex (?)
Word count: 4.1k
Notes: my first threesome and idk how to feel about it but here it is! If it’s bad I can blame it on the fact that I just had my wisdom teeth extracted and am currently in a world of pain :) also i’m on bedrest and incredibly bored so if anyone has requests or thirsts or just wants to chat... yeah
also if this banner is shit i’m sorry i rushed and made it on my phone cause i just rly wanted to to post
This is part 2 to my other fic Love Thy Brother which you can read here
Now the serpent was more cunning than any beast of the field which the LORD God had made. And he said to the woman, “Has God indeed said, ‘You shall not eat of every tree of the garden’?” - Genesis 3:1
Twelve days.
Twelve days since you lost your virginity.
Twelve days since you lost your virginity to your step-brother, no less.
The night that it happened, you lay awake in your bed dreading the aftermath of the horrific incident. How could you face him again? How could you face your family? How could you face God?
You were too cowardly to face the rest of your household. The Todoroki family welcomed you into their home only for you betray them by sleeping with Touya. Ever since you were little, your mother would say she had a sort of sixth sense that meant God would always tell her when you’d been up to mischief. It sounds silly but there was no explanation for how she would always catch out in lie or know things that you never told her. You feared she would take one look at you and know the sin you committed. And so you chose to make yourself scarce, taking extra shifts at work and choosing to study at the campus library rather than at home. Your siblings seemed to notice how busy you suddenly were, often remarking how they missed you around the house. That just made you feel more ashamed.
As for God, you felt like you needed to do whatever necessary to prove your faith. You wanted Him to know the extent of your shame and remorse. You were weak in spirit, making you an easy target for someone as devious as Touya. You prayed and begged for forgiveness until your knees hurt but no matter what you did, the guilt was inescapable. You realized it was because, irrespective of the regret and remorse you felt, you couldn’t deny that you enjoyed what happened. You liked the way Dabi made you feel and you hated yourself for it. But no matter how much you liked it, something like that could never happen again. As penance, you banned yourself from bringing your hands anywhere near your groin. After all that temptation is what brought you to this point in the first place. But the thread of your self-control is thin and withered so at night when you’re certain everyone is asleep, you’re humping your pillow like an animal and biting down on your lip trying to keep from moaning his name. At least you weren’t touching right?
Dabi, by some God-given miracle, made himself scarce as well. It wasn’t uncommon for the noirette to disappear for days at a time doing heaven knows what only to arrive back at home like nothing happened; so no one really questioned his absence. Perhaps he felt the same way you did and was avoiding facing you and the other Todorokis.
Yeah right.
Shame? Todoroki Touya doesn’t know the meaning of the word.
In any case, you had become used to a Dabi-less house and so lulled into a false sense of safety, slowly but surely reverting back to normal. That’s why as you make your way downstairs, prepared to go to your church, the sound of gunfire and explosions from the living room doesn’t alarm you. Probably Natsuo or Shouto playing one of their video games, you thought. But when you get to the bottom of the stairs you’re met with unmistakable dark locks. Not just him. The back of another person’s head, one with pale blue, shoulder length hair. Before you can stop yourself, you let out a gasp. Neither of them react, seemingly too focused on their game. You don’t waste any time feeling relieved, choosing instead to make a silent escape.
You could only dream of being so lucky.
“Oi!” Your step-brother calls without turning around. He hasn’t seen you, you think. If you move quickly you can still get out of this. “I know you heard me, brat. Get over here before I drag you over here.” He still doesn’t bother to turn around but the sharpness in his tone lets you know that you’d be smart to listen. You take a second to steel your nerves and make your way over to the couch, trying your best to look as intimidating as possible. You scowl at both men but they are so engrossed in their video game, they don’t even acknowledge that you’re standing right there. “Aren’t you gonna say hi? We have company.”
We?
The company in question is Shigaraki Tomura. He’s been to the house before although he’s never even so much as glanced in your direction, too busy with his phone or playing games with Dabi. Despite your hard expression you can only manage a meek “Hello Shigaraki.”
He responds by finally looking at you, with a sleazy grin, a pair of crimson eyes, surrounded by creases meet your own. “Sup.”
Beer cans litter the coffee table, one of them being turned into a makeshift ashtray while both have smouldering cigarettes perched between their lips. “You’re not supposed to smoke in the house.”
“You’re not supposed to smoke in the house.” Dabi mocks you with a nasal voice.
You simply roll your eyes, not interested in continuing this interaction any further. “Whatever. I’m leaving now.” You state with as much firmness as you can muster. You spin on your heels but are kept in place by long, slender digits wrapped around your wrist.
“Where are you off to anyways?” The game paused, both boys now looking at you.
Out of habit, you answer truthfully. “Bible study.”
Shigaraki and Dabi burst into raucous laughter.
You should have lied.
“Nah you’re gonna hang out with me and Shigaraki for a bit.”
“Dabi, I have to leave.”
“You don’t have to do anything except what I tell you and I’m telling you to sit.”
Before you can protest you’re being hauled on to the couch, squeezed between the two of them.
“Nice necklace.” Tomura snorts, hand reaching out to grab at your crucifix but you swat it away. His gaze is unnerving. It makes you wonder if- no. He promised he wouldn’t.
Just like that, their game is resumed, as if you were never there. A few rounds pass, no words exchanged between either of them, only curses muttered under their breath. “Dabi, can I please go. I’m bored.”
Wrong choice of words.
“You hear that Tomura? The princess is bored.” His fingers are still moving rapidly over his controller.
“Really now? Come on then Todoroki, let’s show her a good time. I’ve seen how she likes to have fun.”
His comment on your necklace suddenly makes sense, but you still can’t believe it. “You didn’t…” you whip your head back to look at Dabi.
”Sorry doll, you made your Nii-san so proud, I just had to show you off.” Dabi smiles shamelessly, lighting himself another cigarette.
“You’re fucking sick Touya.” Tomura says, however his tone is not one of disgust but rather of admiration.
“You promised...” Your voice breaks. You’re humiliated beyond belief.
Both of them laugh at you again, discarding their controllers. “Told you, it’s adorable how stupid she is.” Dabi remarks to his friend, as if you’re not sitting right next to them.
You try to force your way off the couch but get pulled into Dabi’s lap, one of his arms hooking around both of yours, securing them behind your back. You squirm in his arms but he stills you with a hard slap on your inner thigh. “Be good okay? Don’t embarrass me.” He nuzzles into your neck.
Shigaraki flips up your dress exposing your white lace panties. He runs his thumb up and down your clothed slit, he fabric slowly becoming even more transparent. One severe jerk to the top of your dress and the straps are torn clean off, revealing the matching bra. “Yo, Touya. I thought she was a good girl.”
Dabi peers over your shoulder to get look. “Who’s all this for babe? You screwing the preacher or something? Or were you hoping I’d do something like this?” He tugs down your bra until your breasts are spilling over the top of it.
“Dabi…” Your choke on your plea when he sinks his teeth into your neck. He bites down so hard you’re positive he’s left a mark.
“Who?”
“T-Touya-nii.” You whimper.
“Better.”
Your destroyed dress is discarded somewhere across the room and you find yourself on your hands and knees with Shigaraki kneeling on the couch in front of you and Dabi behind you.
“Go easy on her alright Tomura. It’s her first time sucking cock.” He chuckles.
Your eyes go wide. “Wait...” you mewl but neither pay you any mind.
“And you.” Dabi yanks a fistful of your hair. “No teeth. No puke. Or I’ll let my boy ream your little ass as punishment.”
“Yeah. What he said.” Shigaraki mutters, pulling his semi out of his sweatpants, rubbing his tip against your lips. His is not as scary as your step-brother’s but him staring down at you like this, makes him seem every bit as intimidating.
Pre-cum dribbles from the swollen tip. You’re not entirely sure you want that in your mouth but you’re also not sure if you have a choice so you open up hesitantly.
Dabi’s right. It is your first time doing something like this. You don’t know what you’re supposed to do but as it turns out you don’t have to do much, not with the way Shigaraki starts thrusting his quickly hardening member into your mouth.
“Move your tongue slut.” The man in front of you grunts. You do your best despite the heavy intrusion to obey his command, moving from side to side, swirling around the head when he pulls out of your mouth. He looks down at you with cruel vermillion eyes, panting as he strokes himself in front of you, spreading your saliva across his shaft before sliding deep into your mouth again.
Behind you, Dabi spreads apart your cheeks, squeezing the flesh in his calloused hands. “Remember what I said. Be good and I’ll give you a reward.” He pulls your panties to the side and lets out a whistle at the sight of your dripping slit. “She’s enjoying it. Make her take it deeper.”
You can’t possibly fathom how much deeper he can go when his head is already nudging at your tonsils. You try to swallow the saliva building up in your mouth, making your cheeks hollow out around Shigaraki’s shaft. Seems like that was the right thing to do as his hand flies to the back of your head. “Shit. Shit. So good.”
Dabi’s breath wafts over your pussy. He spreads your lips apart and you feel his hot tongue lick up the juices leaking from your hole. You squeal around Tomura’s dick. You want to pull off but his spindly fingers hold your head in place.
“Told you angel. Good little sisters get rewards.” With that he takes your clit between his lips and suckles on it gently while one of his fingers circles your entrance. Knuckle by knuckle he slides into you, making you keen. You arch your back trying to shift your hips backwards against his hand, silently urging him to find that special spot he showed you last time. He establishes a loose rhythm. Hot wet muscle and cold metal of his piercing circles the sensitive bundle of nerves, before applying suction while his fingers work you open.
The sensation is overwhelming, a form of heavenly torture and your thighs quiver barely able to hold you up while you use your last bit of mental strength to focus on suppressing your gags. That mental strength all but evaporates when the digits inside you graze that rough patch embedded in your walls. It’s so pleasurable your reflex is to run from his fingers. Luckily for Shigaraki, that means you move forward, taking him further into your mouth.
“This where you want me? This your spot, angel?” Dabi taunts you. Shigaraki holds you in place while two of your step-brother’s fingers drill your cunt, hitting that spot over and over again. Garbled moans and cries leave your mouth and reverberate around Tomura’s cock, proving to be too much for him ultimately.
“Shit Stop!” Don’t wanna come yet.” He pulls out your mouth so that a string of your drool drips down to your breasts.
“God! Touya-nii!” You sputter out.
“Still with the God shit?” He uses your hair to force you to look at him, neck twisted at an awkward, uncomfortable angle. “God ever make you feel this good?” His fingers thrust into you harder. Your whole body feels like it’s on fire.
“Ngghh-N-no –oh! Oh!” is your incoherent answer.
Dabi forces you back down, shoving you face first into the cushions. “See? Fuck him. Give up on god. Give up on everyone except your big brother cause no one else can make you feel this good.”
You’re so pathetic. The way you’re rocking yourself in unison with the motions of his hands. The way your tongue hangs out of your mouth, impeding any sort of intelligible verbal response. The way you’re mindlessly nodding along to whatever filth is coming out of Dabi’s mouth.
“C’mon Touya. Turn her around. Wanna try out that sweet pussy you’ve been bragging about.” You’re reminded that you aren’t alone. No, your brother’s best friend is right there to witness exactly how pathetic you are.
“Yeah in a minute. I’m still having my fun.” Dabi answers, face pressed against your mons before working you with his mouth once again.
“Man! Come on!” Tomura whines.
“I said in a minute. Not my fault you can’t last.”
It’s amazing how they can bicker like this right now, as if you aren’t on your hands and knees for them, gummy walls still pulsing around his fingers. However, it’s not long before Dabi’s focus is back on you taking you to the brink of orgasm. He slows his fingers, keeping you balanced on that razor thin edge. “Should I make you cum angel?” His voice is dripping with fake concern. “Dunno… what’s in it for me?”
“Anything! Touya-nii please!”
“Anything? You gonna obey me? Do whatever I say like a good little angel? You gonna worship me?” You can’t tell if he’s being serious or if he’s mocking you.
Probably the latter. And you deserve it too.
Your faith was the thing you deemed more important than anything and anyone else but Dabi, all too easily, convinced you to disregard that. Made you lose all sense and give into lust by showing you mindblowing pleasure, only magnified by your awareness of how deeply sinful this all was. That’s the extent of the power he has over you. The story of Adam and Eve is one you know forwards and backwards and yet you were so easily tempted forbidden fruit and left completely corrupted. Yeah, he’s definitely mocking you.
“Any- fuck- anything” You’re wiggling your ass, goading Dabi into finishing you off
“Cum in my mouth. Angel, give it to me” That’s the final straw. You explode around his fingers. Despite your walls, clamping around him, he manages to piston into you, hitting that squishy spot with astounding accuracy. His unyielding stimulation makes it feel as though the high won’t end. You’re not sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.
Eventually, it does end though, his fingers drag out against the pull of your swollen pussy. He licks you clean making sure he gets every last drop of your cum, both inside and out, on his tongue. The ball of his piercing catches onto your rim making you yelp. He soothes the sting with gentle laps of his tongue.
“Tastes so sweet angel. So sweet knowing I’m the only one to ever fuck this pretty pussy.” He snickers before adding “So far.”
“Yeah, can I fuck her now?” Tomura was turned on before but seeing the way you fell apart at the hands of your brother? His minimal patience has run out. All he can think of now is being inside you.
“You heard him babe. Turn around.” He spanks your ass. You try to turn around but thanks to your shaky legs you nearly fall off the couch. Dabi catches you before that happens and he dutifully sets you up on all fours, held up by quivering limbs. You hear heavy breathing from behind you as Shigaraki taps his head against your puffy clit while you twitch in place.
“She wants this so bad. Had no idea your Christian little sister was such a whore.” Shigaraki mutters. He holds you still as he buries himself in you, breathing becoming more erratic with every inch until his hip bones are digging into your soft flesh. He’s so deep. You feel so full. You squeeze shut your eyelids, savouring the stretch.
Calloused fingers press into your jaw, making your eyes shoot open. “Pretty angel, did you forget about me?” Dabi looms over you, making a show of spitting in his palm and using it to stroke himself. He slips his thumb into your mouth, pad pressing down on the plush pillow of your tongue. “Gonna stuff you nice ‘n full angel.” All you can do is blink up at him with teary eyes, pupils blown wide with desire.
Shigaraki begins thrusting into you, hips moving at a brutal pace. Dabi isn’t far behind him, replacing his thumb with his cock and you don’t waste time waiting for him to tell you what to do. You close your lips around his shaft, engulfing him in the wet heat of your mouth.
Unlike his friend, Dabi starts off slow. His piercings drag across your tongue and you taste metal and the salt of his pre-cum. It takes some time for you to get used to taking him in your mouth, the jewellery an added obstacle.
You feel so full.
Shigaraki is bottoming out with every thrust, it’s so lewd the way it makes you squelch around him. Dabi’s shaft is rubbing your throat raw and still, you make an effort to take him deeper. He keeps one hand on the back of your head while he fucks you mouth.
He looks so ethereal, so euphoric, letting out little moans and whispered expletives. The sounds he makes are divine, so heavily contrasted by everything you know about him. It leaves you star struck. He recognizes the adoration in your eyes and responds in kind with a cocky smirk. He remembers how you looked at him when you first met. Disdain and judgment. Now you look at him like he’s your only salvation.
It’s sad actually. How you’re so desperate for someone to tell you how to live. And what a sweet, adoring little follower you are. Wasted on religion if you ask him. So soft and pliant, perfect for your big brother to mould and corrupt into his personal fuckangel.
“Angel, Nii-san’s gonna fill you up. And you’re gonna take it yeah?”
Your whole life you aspired to this holy standard of perfection in the hopes of escaping eternal damnation. But you’re beyond absolution now.
“All of it down your throat.”
It’s okay though.
If heaven doesn’t feel like this, you’re not sure it’s worth all the effort to get there.
He holds your necklace behind you like a leash, twisting it around his fingers. Between the way he’s basically strangling you and the way your swallowing muscles contract around his cock means that you’re not getting much air into your lungs. Your head is spinning, from being both oxygen deprived and cock drunk.
“Your God doesn’t want you anymore.” The clasp snaps and he dangles the charm in front of your face. The mould of Christ nailed to the cross taunts you. What was once a symbol of divine love and God’s boundless forgiveness and sacrifice is just a reminder of how far you’ve fallen into depravity, creaming around Shigaraki’s cock as he ruins your cunt while your Nii-san claims your throat “You’re filthy.” Touya sneers at you as he holds himself in your throat, watching you cry and choke around him. “Dirty fuckin angel.” He grunts as he floods your mouth with the taste of his cum. It’s not exactly pleasant but you try to swallow it all down. There’s just so much. That means he’s pleased with you right? You want him to be pleased. Good girls get rewards he said
“It’s okay.” He muses as he pulls out of your mouth. “You have me. I’m better than God and I Iove you when you’re nasty like this.” He empathizes his point by dragging his wet, softening cock across your face. “Nii-sans perfect little angel.”
It’s so pitiful how the small praise makes your heart bloom and makes your hole flutter.
You’re coughing up Touya’s cum while your body shakes with Shigaraki’s thrusts.
“What about me hm? I’m fucking you. What? You don’t like it?” Tomura’s going harder now, determined to get his fair share of your attention.
“Shig-Shigaraki – shit. Slow down!”
You’re ignored by both of them once again. If anything, Shigaraki starts fucking you harder
.”Yo’ dustpot. You better pull out. That hole still belongs to me.”
The warning falls on deaf ears, Tomura is too far gone. “So warm, she’s squeezin’ me. Fuck. Fuck.’’ No thoughts, just your tight cunt.
“Gonna do whatever I tell you?” Dabi’s talking to you now, cerulean eyes boring into yours.
You nod still staring at him with absolute devotion.
“Touya-nii’s will be done? Huh? Has a nice ring to it.”
When you don’t respond he grabs you by your cheeks forming an open mouthed pout. “Say it.”
“Touya-nii’shhh will be done.” The words come out distorted but he’s satisfied
“Oh yeah? Then be good angel slut and come on his cock for me.”
You’re pushed over the edge, coming for the second time. Your walls clamp down around him as you sob out both their names in the form of incoherent babbling. It hits you as hard as the first one. You’re so caught up in your high you barely register the vice grip on your hips, the frantic humping against your ass. “Tight. Fuckin tight! Gotta breed! Breed this fucking hole.”
His hot, sticky cum floods your walls with, your throbbing cunt milking him for everything he’s got. He ruts against you a couple more times before removing himself completely.
You hear the familiar click of a camera. He’s sorry (not really) but the sight of your fucked out hole leaking globs of your cream and his cum was too hot for Shigaraki to not add to his spankbank.
“Thanks for that little sis.” Dabi is resting on the couch, head thrown back smoking a cigarette.
“Yeah thanks sweetness.” Both men, tuck themselves back into their pants
Everything feels so surreal. You cautiously move you hand between your thighs. Feeling your sore abused cunt in an attempt to grasp the reality of what happened.
Wait a minute.
It’s too much, that too sticky to be just your arousal down there. The more you squeeze, contracting your pelvic floor, the more it seems to seep out of you.
“You… You came inside.” You murmur as your eyes well up with tears. Whatever daze you were in seems to be broken by this revelation. Instead it’s replaced by fear of what the consequences of this might be.
Dabi smacks his friend upside the head. “You fuckin’ dumbass. I told you not to.”
Judging by his grin, Shigaraki doesn’t register the insult. He’s too busy basking in the afterglow. “Aw, don’t cry babe. You were gripping me so tight, I thought you wanted it. ‘S’okay, your Nii-san will get you a plan B”
“Fuck no. That’s your jizz inside her.” He scowls, eyes focused on the cum that’s leaking out of your spent pussy.
“C’mon Dabi don’t be like that. I’m broke right now.” Shigaraki pleads.
Touya huffs and rolls his eyes. “You can get yourself a morning after pill right? Tomura will pay you back.”
“Yeah babe. I promise.” He gives you a dopey smile.
It doesn’t take a genius to figure out he’s lying. Yeah, you know better now. You just nod as you pull up your panties, cringing at the sticky, wet sensation against your cunt.
“Me and Tomura are heading out. Make sure you clean all this up before anyone gets home.”
“B-but Touya-nii-“ you snivel.
“No buts. Clean up or you won’t be sitting comfy for a week. Are we clear?”
“Yes Touya-nii.” You reply defeated.
“And do it properly. Fuyumi has 3 brothers, she knows what a cumstain looks like and I don’t wanna have to do any explaining to her.”
You only nod, trying (and failing) to blink away tears.
Dabi rewards you with a chaste kiss to your cheek. “Best little sister in the world.” And he leaves you with that.
#tw dubcon#tw manhandling#tw noncon#tw stepcest#tw pseudoincest#tw sacrilegious#tw blasphemy#tw mindbreak#dark fic#dabi smut#dabi x reader#dabi imagine#touya x reader#touya smut#shigaraki smut#shigaraki x reader#mha smut#mha imagines#bnha smut#bnha imagines
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Opus Eponymous special from this month’s Sweden Rock Magazine where Tobias discusses each song from the record.
DEUS CULPA
Let’s go through the songs one by one. “Deus Culpa” is the only song from Opus Eponymous that has never been played live.
It’s impossible to play it live because it’s a song playing backwards. Theoretically, it could serve the same purpose as “Masked Ball”, the intro with a choir that we use before concerts, but “Deus Culpa” is much less intense and there’s no singing. It’s “Gläns över sjö och strand” [old Swedish church psalm] backwards, played on a harmonium.
There are two things that I always thought sound devilishly creepy. The album “Fallen Angel of Doom” by Blasphemy has that ghastly little intro instead of a big and loud one and I’ve always thought that was very cool. And then there’s a scene in a movie called “Deranged” about Ed Gein where the leitmotif echoes dryly, it’s like listening to old organs playing. It sounds so confined, old and woody, like he’s really sitting in that cabin. That’s how I wanted “Deus Culpa” to sound. Without much concern about any future copyright issues, I just took “Gläns över sjö och strand” because I think it’s very beautiful.
You wanted Messiah Marcolin to sing in Ghost and Candlemass play “Gläns över sjö och strand” on the album “Epicus Doomicus Metallicus”.
- Hehe, yes, in the song “Black Stone Wielder”.
There must be a connection there.
- That I’m a huge fan of Candlemass? Yes, it’s no coincidence, but I also think the psalm is beautiful. I won’t go and say “yes, it’s because Candlemass did it" but it’s bit of a nod. Candlemass only use the melody, while I think that the orchestration in the psalm, i.e. the melody and the chords, is especially beautiful.
Have you sung many psalms in your life?
- No more than anyone else who has gone to school. I haven’t done it in my spare time or sang in a choir. On the other hand, ever since I was little I have been very fond of both classical music and choral music.
You have previously talked about how much you like churches and being in churches. Is there a connection to psalm singing and school graduations? Where did the interest come from?
- I would say that the interest already existed when I was a small child. One of the first memories I have of any biblical or any such story was that I had the “Children’s Bible.” My mom would read it to me and I’d look at the pictures. Plus my mom was interested in art and architecture so I’d always go to churches with her and we looked at art together. When I was in first grade, I had a pretty religious teacher, our class teacher, who was strict - but in a bad way. Now, maybe someone who reads this and went to the same class remembers it in a different way, but what I remember is that there was a lot of Bible knowledge to learn and we’d constantly have to sing those psalms. Besides, she was a pretty shitty fucking person. Strict and wicked. I was a little more of the obstinate type, so we didn’t get along. To me she reinforced the idea that the advocates of the Church were wicked people. The good people were somehow on the other side - in the cultural, the open and the intellectual. What I got from her, however, was a lot of basic knowledge in biblical history. That does not mean that I am an expert, but I probably know more than the average person. But then again, I am also very interested in history and mythology, so it’s difficult to tell what I have learned from the teacher at Tanneforsskolan and what I have learned from watching the film “The Ten Commandments”.
Before you started school, did you believe in God?
- Hmm… Yes, I probably did. I think so. I have always in some way been a believer in some form of out-of-body, superhuman force in the universe. It’s a little hard to explain, but I don’t think I ever took it literally. For example, for as long as I can remember, I’ve been watching “Star Wars”. When I started school, I perceived “the force” as some kind of force field that you can go with or go against. Linköping is somewhat of a nonconformist city, so it is not entirely uncommon to come across someone who is part of some form of Philadelphia Church or Mission Church. I remember a friend I went to kindergarten and first two grades with. He came from a family that was religious insofar as they were enrolled in some kind of free church. I remember we talked a lot about such things. There were discrepancies within our lifestyles… Even then as a seven year-old I saw them as backward-looking and strict. It was not an inviting environment, you weren’t allowed to do a lot of things. I sometimes ended up at odds with other children or their parents. I swore and I was heavily influenced by my big brother! I must have been such a terrible little shit at the time, haha!
Did you go through Confirmation?
- No. Confirmation is when you’re in the eighth grade, right? By then I was already way too far into black metal!
I wasn’t going to be confirmed but the morning the course started I changed my mind because I wanted to find out what it was for. But I told my parents that I absolutely didn’t want any gifts, because I was bothered that everyone did it just to get a moped or whatever. They still ended up giving me presents.
- I have a clear memory from Tannefors in Linköping where I grew up. It is a fairly small district, but it is built like a small town with a main street in the middle and larger houses with a lot of villas around. There were quite a few different, I would not say social classes, but there were families in the villas with two parents, two children, a house, a doggy and all that stuff next to all of us kids of divorced parents. And then the really poor families and drunkards, and all that. All of us who lived there had been together since kindergarten. Then you go to high school and split up into class a, b, c and d. But you knew everyone there, from those who were two years younger to those who were two years older. I remember one day I was on my way home. It must have been winter because I was dressed up. I wore what you wear when you’re a hard rocker: a leather jacket and studded belts… and then you freeze to death. Just at the intersection when I was going up to my house, suddenly some classmates came to me. They were going to this confirmation thing in the church down in Tannefors. I remember having this little thought when I talked to them: “Aaah, they’re going there. Don’t you regret not being part of this? … No. Fuck that! Never in my life!”
I guess I also had an attitude similar to yours. I thought kids only confirmed themselves to get a lot of shit. "I want a synth, Dad!” I always thought it was so damn contradictory. But I felt that this thing about being a rebel, being an outsider, also has its price. I always took a step away from everyone else. Now I wasn’t in that group and it would have been really nice if I were because there were a couple of friends there. They were going to go there and wanted me to hang out, but I did not want to go to church and hang out there. That’s just how I was. I didn’t join our school trip in the ninth grade and I didn’t go to the graduation either, because I didn’t want to join in. I didn't belong there. Even now in adulthood when I have a lot of things that I should be happy about and I’m really as far from all that as possible, I still have… I don’t know if it’s a nightmare, but I have a recurring dream where I’m still that age and I’m at home, alone, feeling as if I shouldn’t be there, that I should be where the others are but I'm not. It’s that doubt you feel. I was definitely not a nice person to everyone when I was there. I was always in total opposition to everything, like “I’m here at your fucking school for some reason. I’m sitting here in your class. Yeah, now you’re gonna write down a lot of homework for me to do. I have no business being here!” And yet sometimes I still get a flash in my head like, “Oh right. I should be at school now.”
That was quite revealing for a comment about the intro song.
- Yes. Sorry, haha!
CON CLAVI CON DIO
You are welcome to start by listing everything you have stolen from others.
- The only thing that I nicked, and it’s really more of an inspiration than anything, is the beginning. Like everyone else, I love Pink Floyd. My first Pink Floyd records, which I really sat down to and listened to over and over again, were their first two: “Piper at the Gates of Dawn” and “A Saucerful of Secrets”. “A Saucerful of Secrets” begins with a ride cymbal accompanied by bass and I wanted our record to start that way too. “Con Clavi Con Dio” also has a beat that’s like a fancy version of Uriah Heep’s ‘Look at Yourself’ and 'Easy Livin’. I don’t listen much to new rock records. One thing that bothered me then about retro bands and I still think is a bit boring, is that very many retro bands have a tendency to just go for the heavy rock part of Black Sabbath and such. It’s always just “Children of the Grave” whereas many 70s bands had many, many more nuance than just ‘occult rock’, which gets boring quickly. These retro bands have only adopted the lo-fi elements of the heavier 70s rock while Black Sabbath and Ozzy have many more shades than that. They use a lot of symphonic pop. And then there are other hard rock bands from the 70s, such as Uriah Heep, who play a lot of boogie-woogie and shuffle in a completely different way. I wanted to take a bit of that and therefore “Con Clavi Con Dio” has a beat much like “Easy Living”.
“Con Clavi Con Dio” is not as good as “Stand by Him” or “Elizabeth”.
- No.
Still, it is Ghost’s second most played song live and the album’s only song besides “Ritual” which is still included in the standard repertoire.
- The reason we still play it is that it fulfills a certain function. Songs that have a gimmick that goes along with them have a tendency to remain in the setlist. It’s the same with Kiss and God of Thunder, when they shoot down the lights. Songs that contain something fun to watch, that add something, tend to stick. Although you have to sit down and revise the setlist sometimes, some things may not be so cool anymore. We ran “Body and Blood’ for a long time with these nuns on stage and it was fun, but it became an impractical thing so we removed it.
What gimmick is it in “Con Clavi Con Dio”?
It’s a stationery song, the foreground figure stands still and just sways the incense burner, but the smell is very intense. That’s the gimmick. Someone can double-check this, but I don’t think we’ve ever played the song when it wasn’t possible to use the burner.
You mean, like, for fire hazard reasons?
- No, it’s just that when we do festival gigs and only have one hour on us, we don’t have time for everything in the set. I don’t think we ever played it in such cases.
RITUAL
When I was at King Diamond’s home in 2012, he said that Ghost does not sound like Mercyful Fate at all. But when I brought up “Ritual” he said that “I have heard a riff bordering on copyright infringement”.
- Yes, it’s just because the song starts with the word “tonight”.
The riff also sounds like Mercyful Fate.
- Yes, but it’s because the song starts with “tonight”, just like Mercyful Fate’s “A Dangerous Meeting”. No, it wasn’t unconscious. I’ve never made any secret of the fact that King Diamond is one of my absolute greatest idols ever. But back then I wasn’t thinking about any commercial success, I didn’t think it would be anything bigger than a record that would come out on Rise Above and hopefully sell in 1,000 copies. In terms of riffs, I don’t think it’s that similar. I get more comments about the Megadeath thing.
By that you mean that it sounds like “Symphony of Destruction”.
- Yes. I know that song, but I don’t listen to Megadeth. I have the records at home but have never been a fan. The riff came and then about a day later someone said: “Damn, it sounds like 'Symphony of Destruction’!” “Yes, but I don’t give a shit because the riff is good.” So I have heard it since 2008, when “Ritual” was first played, but I simply don’t give a shit, because I think the riff fits so heavenly well there. And it’s not really the same, it’s only the first stanza, the first bite, that has the same DNA.
I still think there are some very Mercyful Fate vibes on the album.
- Mhm. But if we ignore the Mercyful Fate vibe or the Megadeth riff, “Ritual” is much more “Dark Lady” by Cher. It’s more that vibe. That was the whole idea of these songs: that it would sound like a relatively adult band in the 70’s that just happened to make a hard rock record, and the day before they had recorded a song with an AOR band or a song with Barbra Streisand. Good but not difficult. Grown up and sane in a way that isn’t very hard rock.
Out of 768 concerts, you played “Ritual” 727 times. It’s Ghost’s most played song so far, why is that?
- I think it’s just an old habit. Moreover it has a practical function that is quite ingenious when it comes to building the setlist: it has a long ending where you don’t sing, which is very functional for me, haha! That means I can do something else then. I don’t mean I go and watch sports on TV, but I do something else, hehe.
Go to the toilet?
- Well, it’s not thaaat long, but it’s long enough for me to be able to make a costume change or rest a bit. There are other songs that I rate based on how long or short they are or what function in the set they fulfill. People seem to find “Ritual” very fun so we always throw it in at the beginning or towards the end.
ELIZABETH
How is “Elizabeth” actually pronounced?
- I sing it like ‘uh-lye-zuh-beth’, but it should be ‘ell-iz-uh-beth’. I changed it towards the end because I felt that the riff needed a different melody. If you want to compare it to Mercyful Fate again, you could say it’s a bit like “Gypsy”. If someone were to say “you stole that from Gypsy!” I wouldn’t say I did, but I understand why they would think that. It has a Mercyful Fate vibe because it changes the key all the time. I have a very hard time doing the same thing today. Just for the sake of devilry, maybe I should do it, a song that changes key all the time. But what I mean is that.. if you count all the times we played Elizabeth live, you’ll see we haven’t done it a lot. There’s a very simple explanation for that – it’s insanely difficult to sing. It’s exhausting! From the time I sang it on the record until now ten years later, my vocal cords have moved in some way. Doing 700 gigs made it impossible for me to hit that high register again. It’s no longer adapted to my vocal cords. On the album I sang it in a very amateurish way and today, when I actually know how to sing, I can’t sing it. It’s a shame…
To me, this is the most remarkable thing about the songs on “Opus Eponymous”. “Elizabeth” was Ghost’s first single and felt to me like the album’s biggest song along with “Ritual” and “Stand by Him”.
- Mmm.
And you haven’t played it regularly since 2014. You played it a few times until 2017 and then never again.
- Yes, but it wasn’t just the vocals thing. In 2017, we just had to retire it. “We have to play something new today.” I imagine it was at Gröna Lund (and the day before at Liseberg). I have nothing against “Elizabeth” as a song but the few times I have tried to sing it, I was like: “Well, it’s just not possible to sing this. I cannot sing it.” But I heard the band play it last autumn, so if you want to listen to it you can hear it backstage sometimes.
"Elizabeth” is thus Ghost’s equivalent of Deep Purple’s “Child in Time”, which Ian Gillan retired in 2002. It would be sad to never hear it live again.
- I wouldn’t say so. I have a certain plan and we’ll see if I can launch it.
Are you going to have your vocal cords operated on?
- Yes exactly! Or finally put in a new singing voice, haha! No, but you should never say never.
You can always take Messiah Marcolin and let him sing it.
- Yeah, as a guest singer? Sure, we could that.
STAND BY HIM
This was Ghost’s very first complete song.
- Yes, the one which actually started the whole thing, precisely because there was something so odd about it that I thought was pretty darn cool. There are Candlemass and Mercy vibes, but I’m also a huge fan of Demon and Angel Witch. “Stand by Him” is very much like Demon and “Night of the Demon”.
And yet a lot of people say you sound like Blue Öyster Cult.
- Sure. I understand that people think so. Blue Öyster Cult is fantastic, but at the time they were not as big an influence as people seem to think. To me, “Fire of Unknown Origin” is more of an influence than many of their other records. I’m very inspired by hifi rock from the 70’s. What’s cool about “Stand by Him” is that it’s some kind of a mix of hard rock and dad rock… Journey and Kansas and all those bands.
SATAN PRAYER
What can you tell us about “Satan Prayer”?
- It’s such a little rifforama song. I like the evil arrangement of that song, it’s damn cool. In hard rock the mill is constantly runing, the guitar is played from beginning to end and so every sound tries to outshine each other all the time. “Satan Prayer” is the exact opposite of that, especially in the verse part. You can’t play the riff in the verse just on one guitar, there has to be two to make it a whole melody. One band that I have listened to a lot is Television. It’s a band that may go over the heads of many people reading this, but it’s one of the most eclectic bands from the punk scene in New York in the 70s. While the Ramones were the easiest to understand and Blondie was the biggest, Television was definitely the hardest of them all. In Television, they do that often with riffs. A bit like Clash’s “London Calling” which cannot be played on a single instrument. I like that. All Judas Priest songs, on the other hand, can be played on just one guitar.
Why “Satan Prayer” and not “Satanic Prayer” or “Satan’s Prayer”?
It’s because the lyrics were modelled after ‘Jesus Prayer’. It’s an invertion of that text, something I would do in seventh grade just to be edgy. I don’t have much to say about the lyrics. I wouldn’t write like this today. It lacks finesse, but it has that youthful touch to it. Well, I was actually an adult when I wrote it, but I tapped into my younger self in order to do it, hehe.
You say that it’s something you could have written at school. Are the lyrics to “Opus Eponymous” a way to deal with your tormenting teacher?
- At Tanneforsskolan? No, not really. She hasn’t been my arch-nemesis. Besides, my high school teacher was much worse. The lyrics here are so incredibly pubertal, which works in this case, but I cannot say I agree with all the stuff I wrote.
What was up with the high school teacher?
- In principle, it was probably the same as with my primary school teacher. She liked students who were quiet and did as they were told. When you didn’t, she was happy to point out that you don’t fit in. That you had no future or that you really should perhaps just… end it all. No, I don’t know, she was just very authoritarian. Both of them. I imagine they broke their pencils in anger the day they banned corporal punishment in schools. She said that when she went to school the teachers could beat children and that I was lucky that she can’t do it now. The high school teacher wasn’t far from that either. She talked shit about me among other teachers and cooked things up. I noticed that it became a thing to be against me. That doesn’t mean that I was a kind student in any way. I was not. But much later, my children went to the same school and I met my old music teacher there. He said: “It really was as you remember it. Even worse, I must say. She had an anti-campaign against you. She would go around tell other teachers ‘he did this’ and ‘he did that’”. An adult woman in her 50s should know better how to handle a 14-year old in her class.
I had an awful gym teacher. Once after training in the seventh grade, he gathered the whole class in the gymnasium and said in front of everyone: “Martin, if you had been a pig you would have been emergency slaughtered!”
- Holy shit!
If it had happened today, he would have been fired.
- Yes, of course. And sure you can have different opinions about disciplinary action to be taken against rowdy students, but it’s not like I was threatening to kill someone. It was just pure obstinacy, punk rudeness. That’s what I think is so annoying, because it all would have been different if I had just ended up with a different teacher. But no, I ended up with the strickest fucking cow… No, I wouldn’t say cow. Cows are nice animals. She was a real fucking hag. There were kids in my class that were much more rowdy than me. We had many of those kids they call “difficult children” that went to school for a few months and then were sent to some program and came back, and went again. I wasn’t in that group. I was always excluded from others but not completely because I was on friendly terms with the most popular kids. I was never bullied in any way, though. Actually, sometimes it was the other way round and I was the bully in some cases. I did a lot of things that I feel really bad about today, things I did to people that I regret. If I had only been allowed to correct one thing, I would have wished for a different class and a teacher that was a little more understanding and warm, and inclusive. Someone who could have read the situation better. I wasn’t an adult, I wasn’t fully developed yet. To be at that age and be judged and excluded and above all else to have a teacher who’s against you is a very bad combination. Both for me and, I imagine, for several others in the class for whom things went awry.
DEATH KNELL
A little thunder and then the “Death Knell” starts.
- That song is really Messiah Marcolin. When I wrote it, I heard the Mercy song they never wrote. It should have been on Mercy’s “Witchburner” but got to be on “Opus Eponymous” instead, haha! I think it’s cool. There are also lots of weird key changes. It’s quite “clever” in its writing style. It’s also such a song as you, I do not know… with many of these songs sometimes you think: “Damn, if I could only record them now, with everything I know and have, just hear what it sounds like with real muscle.”
God, it would probably sound awful!
- Yes, probably.
Can you think of at least one single example of a re-recorded song that makes you go, “yes!”?
- I only know one single record that I think is better than the original and that is “Fox on the Run” by Sweet. The known version is a remake of a previous one. Or a single version and on the album there is another, which is not as good at all. But no, it’s almost never good, no.
I have an example. Kreator’s new recording of »Flag of Hate« for the maxi single is superior to the original version from “Endless Pain”.
- Right! You have a point there with “Flag of Hate”, because there they had gained some muscle that they did not have when they recorded “Endless Pain”. If you compare “Endless Pain” with “Pleasure to Kill”, which is my favorite album by Kreator, “Endless Pain” is so fucking dry. You can really hear them standing and tinkering with their instruments. Good songs and everything is cool, but when they come and play “Pleasure to Kill” it’s like they really play in a cemetery. Hell. So fucking cool! And so I kind of think this will be the case with “Opus Eponymous” Everything done since then is 3-D while “Opus Eponymous” is 2-D.
“Death Knell” hasn’t been played since 2015. Is it retired?
- Nah. I don’t have a good answer to that. As it has been excluded, it continues to be excluded. It’s like that friend who hasn’t been around for a long time and therefore you no longer call because you aren’t used to having that friend there. But I think it’s great fun. The only problem with such a song is that it can be a slow, slow uphill climb when reintroducing it to the audience. It’s a bit complicated with songs from “Opus Eponymous”. No matter what I or some people think of the record, it is somehow like the first child from another relationship. Sometimes I treat it in a very stepmotherly way, but it’s also because I notice that the songs don’t really fly live. They do not really have the same effect on the audience, you notice that the audience doesn’t really know them. I know that Metallica and a lot of those big bands have worked hard to get their old songs back.
When Metallica did their “Metallica by Request” tour in 2014, online campaigns were run to include songs such as “Trapped Under Ice”. You thought: “We’ll finally hear something fun!” and what did the audience vote for? “Whiskey in the jar”?! Today, Metallica attracts broad masses that don’t listen to the same songs as the more avid fans.
- Mmm.
It’s the same with Ghost today.
- Yes. Metallica also did “Kill 'Em All” under different conditions compared to later records, much like “Opus Eponymous” was made under different conditions. We had never played Ghost songs live before. I made the mistake of recording songs that you notice do not really work when you play them live. I’ve seen Metallica run 'No Remorse’, for example, and the audience doesn’t understand it. That’s because there’s 70,000 people there. You have to work on these songs again and try to find a new approach.
PRIME MOVER
Let’s move on to “Prime Mover”.
- It’s an old Repugnant riff. We recorded “Epitome of Darkness” in 2002 so somewhere between 2002-2003 there was a song that would be on the next record. I think it was called “Prime Mover” too. I’m pretty sure of that. Of course, it was different in terms of arrangements, but it’s definitely a Repugnant riff.
When Ghost took off, you had also started Repugnant again and we were supposed to get a second album. Are there any more old Repugnant songs lying around?
- Yes, partially. Parts and pieces. I’ve actually used quite a lot for Ghost.
You take what you have.
- Yes. Songs are constructed over years. They’re not written from the beginning to the end on the spot. I think I have already taken most of what was lying around, though. The weird thing about writing metal riffs and death metal riffs is that it’s almost mathematical. It’s like a movement exercise that you remember in your head rather than a melody you come up with. It’s not always humming along to the riff sometimes it’s a movement, he says and exemplifies it by cranking a classic Morbid Angel riff in the air.
GENESIS
And then we have the instrumental song.
- There is a segment in “Genesis” that is very influenced by the song “Gallret” from the movie “Ett anständigt liv”. And then there’s a bit of “Här Kommer Natten” by Pugh Rogefeldt, which was the starting point for the song. I wanted an instrumental song that would somehow tell a story and a have a climax. It creeps up on you, then it gets more intense, and then the same part goes over and over again three or four times. Each time it gets stronger and stronger and more intense. Even though it is a repetitive pattern, more and more things happen, until the repetitive part ends. Then comes a postnatal segment with acoustic guitars that are quite calm, which can be likened to a birth or the post-orgasm feeling. That was the point.
HERE COMES THE SUN
We also include the Japanese bonus track, a cover of “Here Comes the Sun”.
- Of course I love the original, but one day sitting on the couch I realized that if you just change the key of the song, it will sound so damn dark. I think our version is very cool.
George Harrison’s widow allowed you to record the song.
- Yes, we received some kind of a blessing from her, but it’s not like she called me or anything, I just heard it from others. I don’t really remember the technical aspects of it. The thing with Opus is that the record, and thus also “Here Comes the Sun”, is not included in the deal with the record company we’re with now. Rise Above still has rights to it for another 10 years or so. Therefore, the record is treated like a stepchild in some way. The firstborn son from another relationship.
In the live repertoire, “Here Comes the Sun” had been replaced by Ghost’s version of Roky Erickson’s “If You Have Ghosts”.
-Yes, though we haven’t been very loyal to “If You Have Ghosts” either, we don’t always play it. But it has a nice function in the live set, I use it for the band presentation. Sometimes the function and practicality of the song live is very important.
“If You Have Ghosts” is by far Ghost’s best cover.
- I am prepared to agree with that.
The first time “Here Comes the Sun” was performed live was at Debaser Strand in Stockholm on May 13, 2011. I stood in the audience next to Erik Danielsson from Watain who grinned at me and said: “Listen, he doesn’t sing ‘here comes the sun’ but 'here comes the son’!”
- Hehe.
He was so damn excited that you didn’t sing about the sun but about the son, that is, the son of Satan.
- Yes, well, there is a subtle difference in pronunciation. That was the joke. At first I also thought we would have a gimmick during that song. I would come out with a pram, pick up a baby and stand and sing while I held the baby. It never happened, but it doesn’t mean you can’t do it. The problem is that as soon as you do that, people think you nicked the idea from somewhere. But that was the thought in my head when I recorded the song: “This is going to be great because first there’s this terrible baby scream in the beginning of the song and then you come out with a pram, pick up the baby, and then it starts glowing! It would be like the cover of Black Sabbath’s Born Again!”
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*pops up in your asks like snoop in half baked* yo gimme 3, 4, 7, 8, 16, 17, 20 aaaand 25 for the asks, por favor 😎
THANKS FOR ALL THE HARD ONES BABE 🫣 Tho legit the snoop reference exonerates you. (Imma gif that someday.) Anyways it’s been a while and I am likely to ramble like a motherfucker.
3. What is that one scene that you’ve always wanted to write but can’t be arsed to write all of the set-up and context it would need? (consider this permission to write it and/or share it anyway)
Okay so there’s been an idea for another (yes.) Cricks fic that has been rattling around my brain-pan since around like the fifth month of March 2020. I have a title and premise all thought up but literally one (1) scene. Anyways that scene is p much Cricket getting off to Dennis being passed out after too much (crack? heroin? whateverthefuck?) and basically Cricks jerking off in his face. BECAUSE for some reason the facial was always a staple with my Cricket fics. Shruggers. Anyways the whole fic that may or may not (probably not) happen was gonna be around 5-10 chapters (yes.) and there’s a running theme which I shan’t spoil in case the stars align and I decide to write it. Which I probably won’t.
But I might.
One day.
Does the world even need more Cricket fics? :)
4. Share a sentence or paragraph from your writing that you’re really proud of (explain why, if you like)
This part from Shakin’ Off the Rust:
The mail doesn’t stop, and neither do the insects buzzing around his mind as Charlie explains this entire shitshow to Mac. Mac isn’t getting it, and he doesn’t see Barney, either. Goddammit, it had all sounded so plausible before. Maybe he does sound like a Charlie Brown teacher, after all. Was he named after Charlie fucking Brown? When he popped out, happy as a clam, did he make goofy mute trombone sounds instead of crying like a normal baby? Shit. He takes a drag of his cigarette and stills, the upbeat bassline of Day Bow Bow penetrating his thoughts for reasons known only to the brain hornets.
“You’ve lost your mind. You’ve lost your goddamn mind, Charlie.”
So it’s like, this fic was never supposed to happen. A few factors came into play here: 1) The podcast reigniting my love for the show and these talented assholes. 2) A rewatch of Sunny I’m having at work lately with the Sunday locum between the endless swathes of belligerent patients. We got to Pepe and a little bell chimed in my head and I was like... “I could work with this, but will I?” 3) The Writing Itch. Y’all know it. 4) Brain hornets.
ANYWAY it started writing pretty much autonomously which is my favourite way for these things to happen, and this was the paragraph that took it away from Charlie’s manic intro monologue and into the actual canon Pepe Silvia scene. It felt nice to tie it in. :)
7. What do you think are the characteristics of your personal writing style? Would others agree?
I mean copious profanity and blasphemy aside, I’d like to think that my attempts to give the narration a voice that rings true to the main character of the story work for the reader. It gives each story its own tone and different headspaces are so much fun to explore for me.
8. Is what you like to write the same as what you like to read?
Undoubtedly. My perpetual boner for hate sex will never subside. :) (That said Pepe was soft as holy fuck but hey I’ve been away for three years.) I haven’t read much at all throughout the pandemic but a few things have crossed my path, such as this incredible Saw fic right here, and this exquisite The Boys fic. Sometimes I seek shit out and hit the jackpot right away.
16. Tried anything new with your writing lately? (style, POV, genre, fandom?)
Literally just writing a fic lol. And I guess in a way it was kinda fluffy (for me), which hasn’t happened since Time to Pretend and even then that was prefaced with an extremely dubcon gangbang sooooooo yeah. Where was I going with this?
17. Do you think readers perceive your work - or you - differently to you? What do you think would surprise your readers about your writing or your motivations?
I actually have a pretty low sex drive. I have phases where I’m horny for days but mostly I’m just lagom, as mom would call it. That said, I mostly only read explicit fic so therefore I write it too. It’s just such a satisfying payoff. Especially when you write a shittonne of exposition just to facilitate some porn. *Looking at you, Birby.* Also, I haven’t the vaguest clue about the mechanics and conventions of writing. I just put shit together and hope it works.
20. Tell us the meta about your writing that you really want to ramble to people about (symbolism you’ve included, character or relationship development that you love, hidden references, callbacks or clues for future scenes?)
Oh oh OH! I’m gonna link the lame reference doc of lame. It is perpetually expanding because there’s nothing I enjoy more than referencing shit in fics. NOTHING. As for callbacks, the entire Cricket Chronicles was loosely woven together by a thread of facials and reciprocated fellatio. Like secret santa with dicks. (I’ve used those descriptions before but fuck it it’s been forever.)
/edit ALSO! Shakin’ Off the Rust itself is a meta title because 1) I’ve just discovered The Blue Stones (click me I’m awesome), and 2) because I was literally shaking off the rust of not writing for three years and 3) because Mac and Charlie were shaking off their own rust at not manhandling each others’ genitalia for however long it’s been. META.
25. What part of writing is the most fun?
I like working inside heads that aren’t quite functioning on the right level. It’s why Pepe wrote so easily and why I have such a fun time with characters like Charlie, Cricket and Cassidy. It’s cathartic to me for so many reasons. Also, any occasion where I can stick a real-life drug anecdote in makes me very happy. And who doesn’t enjoy serotonin?
#rissalf#ask#ao3#shakin off the rust#time to pretend#the bird and the worm#THANKS BABE THIS WAS CATHARTIC AND THIS BITCH IS ALL ABOUT CATHARSIS LATELY#also huzzah for shameless plugs
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L0ne St@r 2x12 Hate Watch
DO NOT REBLOG THIS ONE - thanks, I’m trying to fly under the radar with my negative opinions here
Usual disclaimer, and I mean it this time: If you watch and love this show, that’s great and I hope you continue to enjoy it. Please don’t read this - simply go about having a lovely day.
If you do love this show and T*rlos and are braving this anyway - do not come in here. I mean it. This is not a T*rlos friendly zone. I do not ship it. Please enjoy your ship in peace and harmony. I have no intention of getting into arguments with anyone, I will simply ignore you.
I have done everything I can to avoid this showing up in the tags, whatever the LS tags are. Don’t send me hate on anon because I’ll delete them; I don’t care if you think I should stop watching the show, I’m not gonna. I like to suffer.
Eddie Diaz for calm and strength and to centre ourselves:
Hate, as always, under the cut:
Let's do this fucking thing, I've heard bad things about this episode
And I already know I'm wrong about the arsonist which is ANNOYING but maybe also too obvious so that's okay, I also know who the arsonist is and all the main plot points but I’ve still got to watch it to really appreciate the subtle nuances of the episode:
Oooh Billy
I ship it
Billwen for the win
This show is so dumb
Billy is smarter than Owen, maybe he should be the captain of the 126
I miss his lightning scars though
He's TWO HOURS LATER FOR DINNER
TK is looking as bland as always
They seriously waited for two fucking hours for this guy
Maybe should've put some deodorant on before going to dinner there Owen
You know I can't imagine the OG doing a storyline as dumb as this
So Carlos' dad thinks it's someone who works at the 126 or just a firefighter in general?
Well gosh darn it, it looks like Owen fits that profile exactly!
At least we get some Judd early in the episode and I love him
Angela Bassett is executive producer on this show as well? I hope she gets paid cash money for this
Billy is the red herring and I fell right into their trap
I just really wanted it to be him
Ooh Grace was listening
Oh it's 100% the arson investigator and Billy is 100% turning Owen in, I love him
Billy is amazing
He's my favourite character on this show
I hope he's not working with Owen to get the arson investigator? I hope he's actually this devious
I want him to be THIS DEVIOUS
Why the fuck does Owen wear that hoodie everywhere
TK is now having a little bitch fit
"they can't do that, can they?" he asks in a monotone, his face blank and devoid of expression
TK's real real dumb
Oh ho ho is this the shoving scene
IT IS
God Ronen CANNOT ACT
Okay so while I think it is wildly unbelievable that they would send TK's boyfriend to tell him that his father had been arrested by HIS father – it seems like a conflict – I would like to say that Carlos is being calm and reasonable
And TK is acting like a little BITCH
This is escalating quickly
Oh TK you so dumb
THE SHOVING
Wow
FOUR TIMES
Wow
Your fave is problematic, yo
Carlos deserves better than this whiny little piece of shit
And now, an interlude while I rant:
Let's talk about how Eddie Diaz yelled at Buck once in a supermarket and the fandom has never forgotten it; how his character has been villainised despite everything else going on in the show at the time, for that one fucking scene – let's talk about all the fics where Eddie hits Buck, or punches him, or rapes him – because you know those fics exist – let's talk about the "Eddie is violent" narrative that parts of this fandom like to push because Eddie yelled at Buck, one time, once, in a supermarket
Totally ignoring the fact that at no point at all, in any other episode he’s been in, has he been violent towards Buck, at all - let’s talk about how the street fighting arc was out of character for Eddie, because he was struggling to cope and looking for an outlet - let’s talk about how Buck and Eddie moved past that whole storyline and strengthened their relationship; how they built a family together, how they’re a team and they have each other’s backs no matter what, and how, not once in the entire show, have they ever been violent towards each other or pushed each other around in anger - NOT ONCE.
And let's talk about this scene, where TK, ya boy, ya sweet tender boy, just shoved the man he says he loved four times, violently, in front of people at the firehouse.
I betcha any money he doesn’t get tarnished with the Eddie-Diaz-is-violent brush, because he can do no wrong. He’s the fan favourite, and this is totally glossed over by the end of the episode and nothing will ever be said about it ever again.
Because wow, you guys. Wow. If this was my ship, I’d be pissed.
Back to the hate watch:
And I know that whole fight is for nothing because I know the plot twist – I know that the dads are working together in order to reveal the real arsonist, the investigator – so they've basically turned their children, who are in a relationship, against each other?
Also why is Billy allowed to be watching the interview?
Goddamn do we really have to show the gruesome burn victim photos
I really want Billy to be devious by the way, and not in on the plan
Oh here comes TK, looking like the little bitch he is
God he's a fucking awful actor
This is the dumbest plotline ever
Equating OWEN STRAND WITH THOR? ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?
BLASPHEMY
THOR IS THE GOD OF THUNDER
OWEN IS A DUMBASS
THE TWO ARE NOT EQUAL
Uh oh here comes the evil investigator
Do either of these men – Owen and Carlos' dad – stop to consider that what they're doing has kind of an impact on their children, who are currently in a relationship? No? Okay
Because this is one hell of an awkward situation
Does Owen genuinely think that Billy is the arsonist?
Interesting that the arson investigator wants any info Owen didn't give Carlos' dad, and he turned off the cameras/mics etc
This show is stupid
Arson investigator also knows that the sons are dating, interesting
"And you can pound sand!" oooh great comeback Owen
This episode is so BORING OMG
Why the fuck am I watching a shitty Law & Order knock-off when I should be watching a bonkers 911 episode
Oh no Judd's at Billy's
I really do think Billy Burke is good looking and it is a flaw of mine, I don't know what it is about him and he really doesn't look that good in this show but I really love Billy Burke okay
And I WANT HIM TO BE DEVIOUS
Oh Judd
Oh Judd thinks Billy is the arsonist
See this is why YOU DON'T LIE TO THE PEOPLE AROUND YOU
Oh he punched him
God damn everyone is violent in this show
Judddddddddddddd
Uh oh here comes trouble to the "vagrant's" hospital room
Oh it's the arson investigator, their little bluff worked, incredible, amazing, flawless etc
Wow how amazing
It was the ol' switcheroo
Judd punched Billy for nothing
TK and Carlos nearly came to blows for nothing
Now Owen is allowed to watch the interrogation? They'll just let anyone watch those things these days
OH MAN ARE YOU TELLING ME THAT BILLY WAS IN ON IT WITH OWEN THE WHOLE TIME?
Damn it I wanted DEVIOUS god damn it
Fucking cowards
"I assumed it was probably a trap at the hospital which is why I went there anywhere"
But why is he lighting fires
A FEW MONTHS?
A man is dead
Pure theatre
So annoyed that Billy isn't devious
But the Billwen ship sails on, clowns 🤡
Do we think the arsonist has the hots for Owen? 100% yes, right?
He's very happy to see him wink wonk
This doesn't even feel like an episode of 911, it's so goddamn dumb
"I knew you had darkness in you too" – that dude definitely wants to fuck him
Why is he lighting the fires?
They're so dumb
"And now I'm going to repay the favour" – he's talking about YOUR SONS
WHO HE KNOWS ARE TOGETHER
Wow these two dumbasses really have no fucking idea do they
OH HE'S BURNING HIMSELF ALIVE
Wow this is graphic
What the fuck is up with this show and the horribly graphic scenes lately?
That dude is dead yo
"Take away everything that's important to me" AND HE CALLS THE FIREHOUSE FIRST
THE FIREHOUSE IS THE FIRST FUCKING CALL???
Oh okay it did blow up and TK was there so I'll allow it
But hey look on the bright side – Owen gets to remodel again!
And isn't that what he's the best at?
Yo your firehouse is on fire dudes, better call the fire department
Does Judd apologise to Billy or no
Oh here we have TK and Carlos and their perfect love
And Carlos is the one apologising?
No.
Please tell me no
Carlos you are allowed to be pissed at him – ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME
"nobody has to apologise?"
YOUR BOYFRIEND PUSHED YOU AROUND
Oh my god
Wow
Okay.
Look I'm just saying that to me this would be a GIGANTIC RED FLAG but wtf do I know
I'm just saying because I have to – if Carlos was a woman and TK did that? Whole different story gang
Whole completely different mother-fucking story
This show, wow
Wow.
Wow. This is bad.
Domestic violence happens to men too, just saying.
Wow I'm so annoyed that I've paused it to type furiously and rant that wow, they're just not acknowledging that TK was totally out of line? Okay. Wow.
And everyone's just fine with it?
Oh they're just figuring out that he set more than one fire
Maybe there's something else you care about other than the firehouse, Owen
Maybe?
BILLY IS THE ONE WHO FIGURES IT OUT
See this is why Billy is the best
Oh no TK and Carlos are in danger
Oh it's so romantic isn't it? They're gonna fuck now that everything is okay
Wow he left a lot of bombs in Carlos' house
Damn Carlos is hot
No smoke alarms?
That fire has really taken ahold there guys
I'm gonna assume you do have smoke alarms and he disconnected them
Wow he really covered all bases didn't he
Put the bombs in the bedroom as well
RIP Carlos' nice house
"I love you too" after I violently shoved you around today
Oh who needs a fucking fire department when you've got Owen fucking Strand right?
"Carlos" he says flatly. "How are you doing?" he asks in a monotone
"I should've had an extinguisher in the bedroom" DUDE NO ONE DOES
And if TK wanted one in there, he's the fucking firefighter, he should've checked when he moved in instead of assuming like a dumbass
God this show is dumb as fuck and I hate it so much
Billwen for the win
"just a couple of crap magnets" fucking a-men Judd
This show sucks
Oh no TOMMY OH NO
WHAT'S HAPPENING
OH MY GOD
WHAT THE FUCK
What the fuck
Is he dead?
TAKE OWEN AND TK INSTEAD
I’m going to say one more thing about this T*rlos storyline - if they’d done this to Buck & Eddie in the OG, I’d be fucking devastated. Like... if Buck or Eddie pushed the other around the way TK pushed Carlos around, I’d be absolutely gutted. It’s really horrible that they went down that path - whether it’s OOC or not, and you can probably argue that it is - they shouldn’t have included the scene like that in the show.
It just raises a whole slew of questions, like... is TK violent? Is Carlos used to being pushed around in relationships? Is the show saying that it’s okay that they got a little physical because they’re both men? Domestic violence is never okay, and this is kind of... saying that it is, in certain circumstances?
That is problematic as fuck and such bad writing.
These two are in a relationship where they are living together and supposedly love each other, and this is how the writers choose to portray it? If you’re a T*rlos shipper and you’re upset about this episode, I get it. It’s really fucking terrible that they included that scene - and I would bet cold hard cash it’ll never be addressed again.
This is why LS is a bad show. It’s shitty writing. Shitty storylines. Characters who are interesting are shoved into the background and glossed over in favour of the male white characters. The OG doesn’t have this problem - for everyone complaining that Eddie hasn’t been featured as much this season (and yeah, I hate it too) - you can’t complain that the characters of colour don’t get equal screentime.
With LS - it’s the Rob Lowe show, and everyone else is just in the background. And that’s why it’s so frustrating to watch - they have a great cast, and this could be a really good show, but it’s just not.
Do you think the LS writers patted themselves on the back after this arc and were like, "yeah we nailed it, we're amazing?"
This episode is -1,000000/10. This show should be cancelled.
Two god awful miserable fucking episodes to go.
Diaz to cleanse:
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i have some LOVELY words !!!
vendetta - a really big grudge against someone, or like a family thing, romeo and juliet style
palaver - long-winded or flattering talk in an attempt at manipulation
blasphemy - a great sin against (a) god
allusion - an indirect/passing reference
selcouth - marvelous while being unfamiliar
eunoia - a beautiful mind
whelve - to hide something, "bury it deep" (possibly used in context of not only physical, but emotional)
kalon - beauty further than skin deep
Lily
YO I FUCKING LOVE PALAVER & KALON SM THOSE ARE GOING ON THE LIST TY TY
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His Holy Waters
SUMMARY: You need to be punished to atone for your sins.
PAIRING: priest!seokjin x reader
RATING: E
WARNINGS: smut | whipping | paddling | watersports | blasphemy lmao | seriously this is messed up | jin calls her a slut | degradation? | unprotected sex
WORD COUNT: 2.5k
A/N: dedicated to @kpopyandere as payment for services rendered. unbeta-ed because i was too embarrassed to send this to any of my betas lmaooo.
“Father.” Your voice was breathy as you knelt, your head bowed. “Father, forgive me, for I have sinned.”
“My child.” The priest’s voice was calm as he rested his hand on the top of your head, his thumb pressing into your forehead. “What ails you?”
“Father,” you said, looking up at him. Tears of distress pooled in your eyes. “I keep having… indecent thoughts.”
Father Seokjin hummed thoughtfully. “That is a sin indeed, my child. Your soul needs to be cleansed.”
Your eyes closed in relief, causing the tears to spill over your cheeks. “Thank you, Father,” you gushed.
The hand on your head travelled down your face, tilting your chin up. His thumb now pressed into your lips, pushing them into your teeth so hard you worried they’d bleed. Silly, really – by the time Seokjin was done with you, that would be the least of your worries.
“I commend your bravery in coming to me, my child. I will help you overcome your sin,” he said, and you were captivated by the benevolent, calm expression on his face, so incongruent with the way his fingers gripped your face hard.
Truth be told, you knew the drill by now. Father Seokjin belonged to an ancient, secret sect that still believed in the old practices like flagellation. And maybe, just maybe, you enjoyed it a little too much, came to church to confess your sins every week like a good girl.
Father Seokjin knew; he could sense a kindred spirit. You enjoyed the blows that rained down on your body as much as he enjoyed giving them, loved when he was rough with you in the name of cleansing your soul. You were sinful, dirty, perverted – but so was he. In a different life, perhaps, where he hadn’t taken a sacred vow, you could belong to each other, but in this one, all you had were stolen, fleeting moments.
“Thank you, Father,” you breathed, your eyes wide as you stared up at him adoringly. Your Father, your savior.
He smiled back down at you, then pushed your face away from him with a flick of his wrist so your head turned against your will. “You don’t deserve to look at me,” he bit out, the strict, harsh tone causing flames to lick at your insides.
“Yes, Father.” Your voice trembled as you righted yourself, looking down at your lap where your hands were fisting in your skirt. You were dressed, as always, impeccably, in one of your favourite dresses today. None of it mattered to Seokjin, though. The expensive clothes and accessories you loved so much were just another sin in his eyes, and if you were being honest, you persisted in bringing your Hermès bags with you to church because you knew it upset him.
“Strip.” His voice brooked no disobedience, and you followed his instructions almost instinctively, reaching for the zipper on the back of your dress. Seokjin watched you impassively, not making any move to help you. That was normal – you draped your dress over the edge of the pew, listening and hoping that he’d have some sort of reaction to the lingerie you were wearing. You knew the sheer red lace set looked good on you, but if he thought so too, he didn’t give anything away.
Finally, you took off the undergarments as well, pouting a little at his stoicism. When you were completely undressed, you returned to his feet and knelt with your head bowed, your hands resting on your thighs, palms up. “I am ready, Father,” you said quietly.
Instead of answering you, he stepped away, to the nondescript cabinet he kept by the altar. All his equipment was there – the paddles, whips, canes. You wondered if his other followers enjoyed this treatment as much as you did. Honestly, you wouldn’t know, but it did seem that you were the one who came the most regularly.
Humming thoughtfully to himself, Seokjin perused the tools at his disposal before selecting a paddle and a whip. When he returned to you, however, he looked at the whip again before dropping it carelessly on the ground. No, he wouldn’t be needing that tonight.
Instead, he stood over you, the shadow from the altar candles behind him casting a shadow that fell over your body. Hesitantly, you looked up at him, not sure whether you were allowed to, and bit your lip at the way he towered over you.
“Undo my belt.” The simple instruction sent a shiver down your spine, and you were sure you were dripping on the floor. With trembling fingers, you reached up to his belt buckle, looking up at him again for validation. A single quirked brow let you know that he wasn’t impressed with your pace, and you swallowed hard as you undid the buckle, the sound of the leather sliding past the loops and the clink of the buckle loud in the quiet of the room.
When you pulled the belt free from the loops, it lay across your palms, looking so innocuous. You held it up to him, unable to tear your gaze away from his cold expression. There must be something wrong with you, you thought, that his judgmental look made you so hot.
Seokjin picked the belt off your hands, holding it near the buckle with his left hand as he ran his right along the leather. Stepping around you and out of your field of vision, you heard and felt him stop behind you, making the hair on the back of your neck rise.
“Look up at the Lord and repent,” Seokjin snapped at you, his voice low and raspy in the instant before he drew his arm back to hit you with the belt. The cracking sound of leather meeting flesh was almost deafening in your ears, and the pain that exploded across the welt that almost immediately raised across your back made you whimper. Still, you didn’t bow your head or close your eyes, your fingers digging into your bare thighs as you focused on repenting for your sins.
Blow after blow rained down on your bare skin, forcing whimpers and moans from your lips as your nails dug into your thighs. Tears filled your eyes but you didn’t move to wipe them away, even as your view of the altar blurred.
Eventually, he stopped – he didn’t want to, loving the way you shuddered and tensed, and the beautiful way the welts rose up across your skin, red and pink, a maze across your back. But any more and you would bleed, he could tell. The thought of drawing blood excited him like nothing else, but the last time he’d done that you hadn’t come back for three weeks while your wounds healed.
“Get up.” His dispassionate tone belied his arousal, and if you turned around, he knew you would be able to tell. His rapid breathing wasn’t just from the physical exertion, and despite having tucked himself into his waistband earlier to hide his inevitable erection, you were familiar enough with him now that you’d be able to read him.
You knew, of course, that he was turned on just as well as he did, but the pretense was part of the game you played.
As you bent over the pew, using your elbows to brace yourself, he feigned obliviousness to the arousal slicking your pussy, sticking to the unwritten script you both knew by heart.
“You know, you wouldn’t need to come so often if you weren’t such a little slut,” Seokjin told you disapprovingly. You dropped your head, pressing your face against your left arm, as you clenched involuntarily. You loved it when he called you a slut, adored the way the word rolled off his tongue with such disdain, like you were dirty, debased, sinful. The double meaning in his words wasn’t lost on you either.
“I’m sorry, Father,” you gasped against your arm. You had barely finished when he brought the paddle down on your ass, and the end of your sentence turned into a garbled cry.
“You have sinned against our Lord,” he hissed as he hit you again. As the wood made contact with your already inflamed skin, you jolted forward.
“Yes,” you said, blinking back the tears, although whether it was in agreement with what he’d said or a cry of exultation, neither of you knew.
As he continued striking you with the paddle, he continued explaining to you all the ways in which you were a filthy sinner, a disgrace to the Lord, and fuck, did you love it.
When he finally dropped the paddle, your ass was a bright, glowing shade of pink, matching the crisscrossed welts on your back perfectly. To Seokjin, this was the most beautiful he’d ever seen you – your perfect, smooth skin marked up by him.
You’d been punished enough for your sins, he declared, and you returned to your original kneeling position as he stood over you.
“My child,” he said in a soothing tone, signifying a change in the mood from earlier, “I will now cleanse your soul with the holy waters of mankind.”
Blinking up at him, you nodded eagerly. This was always your favourite part, where the warm liquid against your skin refreshed your spirit and washed away your sins. He smiled benevolently down at you, his arms hanging, relaxed, by his side.
You knew the drill – your fingers worked dexterously to undo his trousers, sliding the zipper down with a little shiver of anticipation. Seokjin was hard, as he usually was, and you bit your lip as you drew his erection out.
Seokjin smirked down at you. He knew what you were thinking; you were here because of your lustful nature, after all, and he had a nice cock – long, thick, flushed pink and with a pretty network of veins running down it. He’d give you a treat later, probably, but for right now, there was something else you needed.
“Please, Father,” you begged in that cute, broken voice, so desperate for him to cleanse your soul in the way that only he could. You were almost panting with desire, your mouth open and relaxed. Seokjin reached for his cock, stroking it just once as he schooled his expression so that he retained the serene look he always wore during service.
“Shh,” he cooed at you, his other hand resting on the top of your head, tilting it so that you faced upwards. With a beatific sigh, he relaxed his pelvic muscles and began pissing on you, admiring the way it ran in rivulets down your face and over your bare skin. He could see the impact it had on you, your body relaxing like the urine streaming down your body was leaching away all the stress and pain of your life.
It was almost enough to fool him into thinking that this was why he did it – purely to provide redemption for your soul.
You’d texted him earlier today to let him know that you were coming over, so he’d prepared well for tonight, and there was a lot, forming a puddle where you were kneeling. Halfway through, you tilted your head and opened your mouth a little more, and he aimed into your mouth, filling it up.
With the last bit he had in him, he pressed the tip of his cock to your forehead, drawing a cross right in the middle with the warm liquid. You shivered as you felt it, your eyes falling shut as you moaned. “Please…” you gasped helplessly.
“What is it, my child?”
Instead of answering him, you wrapped your hand around his and tugged slightly, pulling his erection down so you could wrap your lips around the tip of it. You suckled greedily, tasting the last few drops clinging to him and relishing the feel of his cock in your mouth, so warm and hard and full.
The hand on top of your head slipped down past your temple, his thumb pressing into your cheek as his fingers cradled your jaw. “You’re such a good girl,” he sighed, and you released his dick with a little pop to smile up at him.
“Do you feel better, my child?” he asked, and you nodded.
“Thank you, Father, for cleansing my soul,” you said, looking up at him with that worshipful gaze, and he felt his cock jump. You saw it, of course, and barely managed to bite back your smirk. He was so predictable sometimes.
Inevitably, you ended up on your hands and knees, still facing the altar, of course, as he pounded into you from behind. This was something he liked to claim was your ‘reward’ for being devout, but you both knew that it was as much a treat for him as it was for you. It was evident in the way he gripped your hips hard as he slammed into you, making the still-tender flesh of your bottom sting with pain that somehow enhanced the entire experience, in the breathless pants and grunts he couldn’t help but make as he fucked you.
“F—Father,” you pleaded, barely able to force the words out. “More, please.” You were so close, you just needed that little bit more to bring you over the edge.
“More?” His voice was similarly strained, the feel of your hot, slick pussy wrapped around him like a glove almost too much for him. Still, he had a role to play. “Greed is a sin, my child.”
“Please, please,” you mewled helplessly, unable to form more articulate sentences as he was fucking your brains out.
He huffed out a halfhearted laugh. “You’ll need to come back to absolve yourself of your new sins, child,” came the halfhearted admonishment. You both knew you’d be back next week anyway.
“Yes, Father,” you agreed eagerly, and obligingly, he reached around to press his fingers onto your clit, rubbing at it just so, his ability to discern exactly what you needed borne out of familiarity with your body.
“Cum on my cock then, you slut,” he hissed, and the dirtiness of his words, juxtaposed against the sight of the altar looming in front of you and how reserved and composed he’d been all evening did it for you. With a garbled moan, you came, clenching down on him repeatedly as you closed your eyes as the pleasure wracked your whole body.
Seokjin swore as he felt you tightening around him, his rhythm becoming erratic as he chased his own orgasm. “Fuck,” he groaned as it finally crashed over him, and he hunched over your body as his hips worked in half-aborted thrusts to milk out the last of his cum. When it was over, he lifted himself off you and collapsed on the ground next to you, uncaring of the mess he’d lain down in.
“I’m going to hell,” he sighed, looking up at you.
Your lips quirked into a half-smile. “See you there, then.”
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