#it did not even occur to me that it was a hallucination

[rocks-in-my-vodka]

when that dance battle started in the first episode, i for real was just ready to accept that that was what they were doing. like yea. dance it out, you little funkies

#it did not even occur to me that it was a hallucination #i thought it was really what the scene was #the umbrella academy #the umbrella academy s3 #tua s3 ep1 #ben hargreeves #allison hargreeves #klaus hargreeves #luther hargreeves #marcus #sloane #vanya hargreeves #umbrella academy #christopher the cube #ben #robert sheehan #victor hargreeves #elliot page #diego hargreeves #five #aidan gallagher #mine own

[schwarzkatje]

dark!orphan!ellie x nun!reader || part 3

disclaimer: alright, i'm just gonna say that this is filth in its original form aka contains SMUT that is immoral; offensive to religion if you believe and/or practice the religion implied here; it deals with power dynamics between an educational figure and a supposed pupil even though it has no age gap warning since they are basically the same age; it has violence in the form of slapping; it shows both ellie AND reader being dark characters with questionable morals. so if ANY of this triggers you, i prefer you skip for my but mostly your sake. also, not proofread srry

> for part 1 click here || for part 2 click here

"admit it, you act like a brat all the fucking time because you love it when you get punished," never in a million years would you have thought these words would have exited your mouth. nor would you have entertained the idea of breaking your vows because of something so futile like losing your temper.

except what was happening was proof of how delusional your beliefs and how fragile the rope you were walking on had both been. more specifically what was happening underneath you.

you were straddling ellie, the heels of her feet planted on the mattress and her thighs spread to accommodate your hand as it furiously flicked her pulsating clit and the outer zones of her pussy, drenched in white slick.

the other hand was feigning in her task to handcuff ellie's wrists, as it bore no real force nor did it occur to you that she could break free whenever she decided. you simply ignored it, too drunk off of nothing but a ravaging and ravenous hallucination of retribution. ellie had brought an earthquake inside you, causing casualties in the process, namely what you stood for, the light in your eyes and the faith towards god. in a regained moment of lucidity you could have recognised you were turning into the reflection of ellie's sufferings.

and god, wasn't she willing to dance this macabre tango with you and accept the pleasure that was making her delirious. her hips thrusted up, closer to your fingers, imagining they were your pussy humping her own, riding her in this exact same position that naive you had thought to be a cage for ellie.

"don't lie, you're too – fuck yeah – you're way too good at this. do you fuck the other sisters, when you are done tormenting me, mh?" the contorted expression was the perfect mask to hide the trail of jealousy implied in such an insisting enquiry and to distract from the fact that her eyes would have rolled back to her skull hadn't she been more lucid. "do you suck the pastor's cock when he comes to visit, too?"

"you wish. you wish i had so your fantasies about me get more realistic, don't you?" both your middle and ring finger were exploring the outer region of ellie's intoxicatingly warm hole, with such a slow pace that ellie feared you would stop at any time.

only one hour prior to this enactment of pure debauchery you were busing your mind with paperwork, locked in your room, locked away from ellie. you hadn't planned this.

the exact way you hadn't planned to abandon your dummy remnants of resolution as you let ellie enter your quarters. the exact way you hadn't planned to fight for the umpteenth time knowing it would have resulted in ulterior mortification for you. the exact way you hadn't planned to slap her. for the second time. completely throwing away the memory of ellie promising to make you pay for this the first time you had done it. except, ellie too had seemed to have forgotten all about this threat.

"do it again," ellie had been prompting you, daring you to do it, if not for the fact that she had trapped your wrist, actually impeding the fulfilment of what was acquiring the shape of a wish trough and through. her superior strength had proven a perfect feature to yank your entire body closer to her.

your other hand was holding the bible and you reckoned that once you had dropped it, it would have meant bending irremediably, to the point of breaking, in favour of the evil pulling that had been dancing around you throughout your entire life.

the deaf thud of the sacred text hitting the floor had rivalled with the same echoed sound of ellie's cheek getting slapped once again. the capillaries were fast breaking and the warm sensation over the beaten skin sat rather uncomfortable. not so much so as to hinder the devilish grin that ellie had no shame in sporting.

"at least now you're dropping the act of the prissy nun thinking she's better than everyone," her raspy voice had become lower, almost inaudible. but as subtle – and therefore armless – as it may have seemed, its ability to insinuate just as venom does, with blind cruelty, hadn't left space for mercy. "beating me like the other sisters when you faked compassion the moment they did it to me."

the whole context hadn't given you the chance to develop not even a semblance of pity towards ellie. no, it couldn't have found it in the midst of the scorching flames hell that was engulfing your guts. "you deserve every punishment they gave you. my only mistake was thinking you could gain god's forgiveness," you had inched closer to ellie, mimicking, without having full control over it, her tone and setting a twisted game with the loser's destruction as the prize.

"i'm yet to see how you discipline your bad kids," ellie had taken your free hand, the one responsible for the red heat spreading on half of her face, had brought it closer to her chipped lips, "since you're a sick pervert, i imagine you make them do sick shit as well. what is it? spanking? making them kneel down to eat your pussy?" the last bit of her degrading speech had been accompanied by the wet noise of her saliva coating your thumb and your thumb pressing as though it had had life of its own down ellie's tongue.

"want me to show it to you?" it must have been the devil himself that had smelt how deliciously sinfully your soul was accepting to delve into a grave without possibility to repent. everything had been lost.

"fuck– fucking slut knows hot to– oh man—," that was the agonised prize that your fingers entering ellie and pumping with no care in the world inside her pussy had won for you. there was a spot under ellie, a combination of her own cum and the saliva you had spat on your hand because depravity was the puppeteer moving and angling your strings, and you, brainless and unable to feel shame, followed along, being the only purpose of your tainted existence.

you were becoming obsessed with that sight, your pussy had long started to grind on ellie's stomach, lifting more and more of her black shirt, revealing the toned muscles that helped the friction you were ready to sell your soul to encounter.

fitting a third finger inside ellie, you moaned as though you were the one being penetrated. your teeth were munching your lower lip as a manner to deal with the inexplicable pleasure you were both giving and experiencing. like the previous things, you definitely hadn't planned not only to do this, but to enjoy it as much as an animal in heat would have.

ellie decided she had had enough and pulled her hands out of the pathetic cage that was your numb digits, reckoning they would be of more use gripping the soft flesh of your hips and helping you cover her navel with more your intoxicating precum.

"why can't you always be this obedient? why can't you be a good girl?" your now free hand found a new grip in your own hair, all while indulging in ellie's silent desire to hump harder above her. which meant automatically increasing the speed with which your fingers were claiming her fucked out hole.

ellie sobbed at your words, reading them as indirect praise, the affirmation that like a madwoman she had been searching her all life, the affirmation that frustrated her so much it made her into the shadow of herself.

"oh god please– please, forgive me... oh god, ellie– don't stop..." came out corrupted beyond salvation, tainted by your tears of pleasure and the chocked scream of the most mind numbing orgasm you have ever had, fearing your brain would never recover its sanity.

if you had been captured by the image of ellie, fucked out on the bed where you sleep, ellie too had endured a sight of her own that pushed its limit with you coming on her. it happened during the first second of your high, for this reason you understood that ellie had flipped both of you over, so that now she was between your legs, only when your clothed core met ellie's naked one.

she was humping you like you had been humping her, only with more domineering force due to the position you were in. ellie had her own release in mind and nothing else. there was only the heat stuck in her belly finally exploding with spikes making different parts of her body convulse in quick succession.

the ache of your pussy was no match to the fuelling sensation of having ellie take you like this, using you for her own pleasure after you doing the same to her, putting you in a subordinate position to have full control of what to do to you. "e-ellie come, please come," you begged and pathetically tried to confirm what you wanted by holding ellie's ass to deepen her movements.

she, on the other hand, couldn't resist any longer and with a last thrust she halted flush against you, mere centimetres away from your lips, your legs spread impossibly wide with the only intention of providing ellie with the best position to let go of her built up arousal.

her face had somewhat softened, not taking into account the frown on her forehead, her eyebrows knitted in a desperate expression, almost confused by the force with which her orgasm had deprived her of the characteristic vulgarity and witty behaviour.

she looked... vulnerable. and her lips looked so ready to be kissed and maybe even bitten or sucked. but the delirious feeling of the orgasm had wore off completely by then and anger for a further loss in dignity was covering the entirety of your thoughts. you weren't going to show any more of what you had already done.

you pushed her away, shivering in cold once her body left yours and as quickly as your trembling legs permitted you, you sat on the edge of your bed. facing away from ellie who was waiting for your next move.

"get the fuck out of my room," and with that, a deafening noise produced by the slamming of your wooden door was all was left for you to hear.

#ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x reader #ellie x reader smut #ellie x fem reader #ellie x reader #ellie williams smut #ellie x y/n #ellie smut #ellie x you #the last of us smut #dark ellie #ellie williams x you #ellie the last of us #ellie williams #ellie tlou

[cheeseanonioncrisps]

It just occurred to me…

So Delores can very clearly hear Bruno in the walls, right? Like the rest of the family may think he's missing, but she knows he's still in the house. She even admits as much to Mirabel in We Don't Talk About Bruno.

I've seen various explanations for why she reveal this to the rest of the family, ranging from 'she was scared of upsetting Abuela', to 'she was angry at Bruno for ruining her chances with Mariano', even 'she straight up assumed she was hallucinating the whole thing'.

And these are all very good explanations. But I have another question:

Does… does Delores know that the other family members don't know where Bruno is?

I mean, it's not as if they're talking about it.

She might be aware that Mirabel, Camilo and Antonio are in the dark, because they would have been either young children or not born when he 'left', but there's honestly no reason for her to assume that the adults don't know he's in the walls.

Dolores can literally hear an eyelid twitch from several rooms away. Bruno, from her perspective, is gonna be loud. He's walking around, knocking on the walls and staging elaborate telenovelas with his pet rats. It's entirely possible that she thinks the rest of the family can hear him as well.

And from her perspective, this probably wasn't a discovery. Like, there was a family argument, she woke up one morning and Tío Bruno was for some reason living in the walls, and whenever she tried to bring it up the adults would tell her not to talk about it, or insist that he was 'gone'.

I dunno, I'm just enjoying the idea of the post-movie family discussion being like:

“Delores! Why didn't you tell us your Tío Bruno was living in the walls?!”

“Wait. You guys didn't KNOW Tío Bruno was living in the walls??? Where did you think he was???”

#encanto #delores #bruno #we don't talk about bruno #which can lead to some misunderstandings #encanto headcanons #encanto crack

[bobfloydsbabe]

gold rush | eccentric professor!bob floyd x oc

SUMMARY: Everyone knows history professor Bob Floyd is a little eccentric. He only drinks tea steeped for exactly four minutes, his desk is pristine while the rest of his office looks like a bomb went off, he's distrustful of technology, and he definitely doesn't want or need a teaching assistant. Certainly not one who's as aggravating as she is pretty...

WARNINGS: academia au, enemies to lovers (if you squint), age gap (mid-to-late 20s/late 30s), bob being grumpy and rude. strictly 18+/minors dni.

WORD COUNT: ~0.5k

A/N: Eccentric Professor Bob Floyd has been on my mind constantly for the last week, so here we are with a moodboard and a short blurb. This AU will not be a full length series, but a collection of blurbs and drabbles. Special thanks to @ryebecca for raving with me about my new favorite grumpy man. Don't hesitate to send me questions and headcanons!

UPDATE: ADD YOURSELF TO THE TAGLIST

Bob stops dead in his tracks in the doorway to his office, hot tea spilling over the edges of the cup.

Inside, among piles of books and paper, stands a woman with her back turned none the wiser to his presence. She can’t be one of his students–they know not to come to his office unless they have an appointment.

“Who are you?” he asks, not bothered with pleasantries.

She turns around with a startled laugh. “Dr. Floyd, you scared me,” she says with a hand pressed to her heaving chest. “You can’t sneak up on people like that.”

“You’re in my office,” he points out, brushing past her as he walks to his desk in long strides, placing his cup on a coaster to protect the wood.

“Right,” she agrees.

He sits and pulls his books closer to continue preparing for his next lecture, but his eyes drifts back to the young woman. She appears to be in her mid, maybe late twenties. Dark hair falls in loose waves around her face, and she’s looking at him expectantly. “Did you need something?” he asks.

She cocks her head to the side, brows furrowed. “I’m waiting for you to put me to work.”

“Work?”

“Yes,” she answers, incredulous. “What did your old TA do?”

He stares at her, almost convinced he’s hallucinating. “I don’t have a teaching assistant.”

She smiles at him, wide and enthusiastic. “Well, you do now. Would you like me to clean up a bit? It’s a little messy in here.”

Bob suppresses a frustrated groan. Pushing back from his desk, he stands and rounds his desk, stopping in front of her. The scent of her perfume hits his nostrils, something spicy and vaguely floral, and this close, he can see all the colors in her eyes. “I don’t want a TA and I certainly don’t need one. Whoever hired you–”

“Dr. Kazansky,” she interjects. “–made an error. Now, please, leave.”

Walking back around his desk, he ignores the sound of her taking a deep breath and composing herself. She doesn’t speak until he’s fully sat and emerged in his books again.

“You may not want me here, Dr. Floyd,” she begins through clenched teeth, forcing him to look up. She holds his gaze, determination and a hint of defiance in those dark doe eyes. “But you’re stuck with me. So, I’ll be back tomorrow and we can start over. Have a good day.”

The door slams and Bob’s left in the silence of his office, staring at the spot where she stood mere moments ago. Of course, Dr. Kazansky went behind his back to hire a teaching assistant–he’s insisted that Bob needs one for years, but Bob’s always been able to avoid it. Until now, it seems. He wonders how long she’ll last before she realizes he’s too set in his ways to change. But as he imagines the way her nose will scrunch in annoyance, it occurs to him he never even got her name.

likes are nice, comments and reblogs are golden

TAGLIST: @blue-aconite, @sylviebell, @wkndwlff, @ryebecca, @sebsxphia, @rhettabbotts, @lewmagoo, @ereardon, @anniesocsandgeneralstore, @desert-fern, @fantasias-creativebubble, @lostinwonderland314, @luckyladycreator2, @cherrycola27, @flashyourgreeneyesatme, @atarmychick007, @yanna-banana, @fandom-princess-forevermore, @gizmodear, @hangmanapologist, @thedroneranger, @soulmates8, @withakindheartx, @eternallyvenus, @kmc1989, @bcarolinablr, @memeorydotcom, @dempy, @withahappyrefrain, @bradshawsbitch, @daisiesandinvasives, @teacupsandtopgun, @laracrofted

#robert bob floyd #bob floyd #robert floyd #bob floyd x oc #professor bob floyd #professor bob #professor au #dark academia au #top gun maverick #tgm #bob floyd fluff #bob floyd angst #madebyme #writtenbyme #mywriting #helena writes #lewis pullman

[gremlingottoosilly]

Cabin in the woods (yan!slasher!Konig x fem!Reader x yan!slasher!Horangi) part 3

Little birdie got caught. Konig is simply too excited to let you go. Chapter 1 Chapter 2 AO3

TW for the chapter: Light blood and gore, dead bodies, mentions of drugs, spanking, kidnapping

— Those fucking bastards killed Karen! Don’t you care?! 

Shouting at your friends was never your forte, but you expected that it would come out at some point in your unwilling journey, You never knew it would because of the psycho killers on the loose, wanting nothing more but to make a nice set of decorations from your bones and eat your liver. 

You try to scream some senses into Chad’s tough skull but, just like his name suggests, this is a useless endeavor and you would be far better off running for your life, abandoning your friends, and hoping that killers would be satisfied without your sacrifice. But, you’re too nice. But, you have a bleeding heart and a death wish – and you feel guilty over not feeling guilty that Karen is dead. This is a new, overwhelming feeling for you, the one that almost revamps your whole essence. There are changes occurring, and you would rather die than acknowledge those changes. 

— Listen to me, goddamnit! We’re all going to die! 

You must be looking horrible – mouth covered in blood like you just ate a bunch of raw meat, smelling of dirt and fresh guts, hands shaking and your face resembling the horror mixed with anger – even Marty is surprised to see the resident mouse behave like this. God, even you are surprised to see just how horrified you look, screaming at them in the hope of saving at least someone. 

Marty drops a hand over your shoulders, pulling you to the side. You try to resist, but his clanky figure is surprisingly grippy and strong – you are being pulled to the nearest tree branches, just out of the range of the group. You spend the previous few hours trying to find them and yell some senses into their heads – and the only thing that they advised is that you should stop drinking for today and that stealing pills from Marty’s stash isn’t very nice even if he kinda doesn’t care where his junk goes. Still, you are fucking trembling. 

Marty pushes you to the tree, whispering in your ear – you feel his hot, deranged breath on the side of your face, making you wince. Even compared to the killer’s smell of sweat and blood, they still were nicer to be around than Stale-Beer-And-Cheap-Weed-Breath Marty. 

— Hey. Heeeeey, doll, what was happening back there? 

— Karen is…

— Nah-nah-nah, this is where you should shut up, yeah? Karen isn’t dead. I mean, I’m glad you think she is, it means my prank is fucking awesome. 

Prank? Her fucking head was chopped off and then tossed over to the nearest creek when the shorter killer decided that he wants you to perform a blowjob on his knife, making sure that you are licking all the blood away. You don’t think that there are ways to fake this – and if there are, then your friends and their hired goons are no better than actual killer psychos anyway and you’d still want out. 

— I saw her! 

— Sure you did, hon. Listen, I’m really glad you were the first to notice and everything, but keep it down for now, yeah? I have this sick mask and I was actually planning to prank the group later at night, but if you found it first…

— Prank?! There are two actual killers on the loose, this is the worst time to do pranks! — God, you’re annoying. This is why I fucking asked Jenny not to invite you. There are no killers, alright? Karen agreed to partake in the prank, so she is hiding somewhere in the forest until I’d pull out that sick knife and fucking scare everyone shitless. You were probably hallucinating from booze. 

— I saw her severed head!

— Sure you did. Listen – you can help me, yeah? Just rile everyone up a little, then you will come back and say that…hmmmm…that Marty was taken! Everyone panicking, screaming, crying, and then I show up with this big-ass knife and…

You never heard the last of his amazing, perfect, simply brilliant idea – because before he could finish it, his head was impaled with…oh, no. No-no-no, you can’t do this anymore, not so soon after Karen is dead, not when you are still shaking and can barely think straight not when you are far away from others because Marty fucking led you to another secured place just to get his stupid head impaled with a fucking crossbow bolt – something that you only saw in video games or historical dramas. 

This was completely silent – the quiet music of the bolt flying through the air, a small grunt that escaped Marty’s lips before he fell to the ground beneath your feet. You didn’t even manage to see from what direction this thing came from, too disoriented to observe the world around you properly. You feel the adrenaline running up again, probably breaking the record for you in the whole year – you jump from the body on the ground, tears dwelling in your eyes. You can’t do it, you can’t do it, you won’t do it, you were never a fighter, the freeze-fight-flight instinct always coming up to curling down in a small ball and sucking on your thumb. 

Some people are simply not built for survival – this is a natural order, something that Darwin was talking about. Soft, weak humans are meant to die, meant to be the food for stronger predators, for monsters dwelling in the shadows. Some creatures are never meant to exist – fleshy cute creatures, the ones that melt at the slightest touch, someone like you – when your first answer to a threat is to roll on your back and show your belly to a mountain lion, you just knew that evolution never meant for you to live past the crib. And yet, civilisation allowed you to survive. To thrive even, before you were put in this fucking forest. 

You run before everything else can kick in – at least some of your instincts are working properly, adrenaline running through your veins as you are leaving Marty behind, not even bothering to check if he is still breathing or not. The man was never thinking with his head – not the upper one anyway – but you doubt that he would survive a bolt shot perfectly between his eyes, separating his brain in two perfect halves. Like a fucking apple. 

You ran 

 ‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‎   ‎‎      ‎    and you ran ‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‎  ‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎  ‏‏‎  ‏‏‎ ‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‎  ‎ ‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‎  ‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‎ ‎      and you ran some more

And you ran right into his chest. 

Wall of muscles, no less – you aren’t even sure if this is a human’s body, too sturdy and hard and perfect to belong to something less of a Roman statue. You feel tears running down your face, panic not even bothering to settle in – you know you would be dead in the next few moments, brain tragically easy saying goodbye to being intact. A pathetic sob escapes your throat as you are caught for the second time in this night – lady luck might be smiling upon you the first time, but you doubt you can be her favorite for long. 

— I thought the rule of escaping was to run away from danger. 

This is the tall killer – low voice, secured by the mask, making it almost unrecognizable. You shake as a big, glowed hand goes on your back, laying there heavily. Even more pathetic sounds are produced from your lips, and you are almost ready to beg him for a quick, painless death – his hand is big enough to cover your head and you don’t want to think of the implications that he might crush your skull with just his fingers. 

König listens to your sobs, doing nothing but keeping a firm hand on your back, securing you in place. You sob and whine and tremble in his hold – and he was never more hard in his life. What an adorable, pathetic little creature you are. Helpless in his hold – even squirrels can fight, scratching and biting. You were sobbing in his hold like the perfect kleine prey you are, and he could almost pretend this was a hug. 

— Tshhh, Hase, don’t cry. I won’t be able to let you go if you’d proceed with those sweet noises, ja? 

His revelation only makes you squirm more. You finally try to get out of his bear-like hug – only to realize that all of your little movements and struggles fit perfectly with the enormous, pulsating bulge in his pants that can probably be considered a murder weapon on its own and shouldn’t be concealed since this is an obvious threat to…ah, on second thought, running around from a serial killer who has his monstrous dick hanging out would be worse. Much, much worse. 

— Let me go! 

You squirm one of your hands, punching his chest. Feels like punching a marble statue – the only thing you are hurting is your own hands. You try to resolve to a different form, jerking up your knee to land a blow on his crotch. 

He fucking moans. 

— Never knew you were such a fighter, Schatz. But I warned you, aren’t I? 

You don’t understand what he is talking about before he suddenly lifts you in his hands, dropping you on his shoulder like a bag of potatoes. You are crying, trying to get away, [unching him with your legs and your hands, all the adrenaline in your veins working solely for the purpose of inflicting as much pain on this enormous figure as possible. 

You tug on this weird hood he is wearing – if you are going to die, at least you would die exhausting all possible options, not feeling like you gave up without a fight. This is still a journey of self-respect and deep insight searches for the mysteriously hidden backbone of your body – maybe, yoga classes would be more effective and less dangerous but, unfortunately, you’re not a rich white housewife in her thirties, so not like you have money for a guru who would spend hours trying to convince your ovaries to stop dying on the inside. 

— Let! 

You punch him on the back, a multitude of well-served punches right into his back. He laughs, spreading his shoulders, cocking his chest forward like you were giving him a massage. With a groan, you made a very deliberate punch right in the middle of his back – and he moans from satisfaction, probably releasing some pent-up tension that he got from killing grandmas and destroying hotels. 

— Me! 

You tried to kick him in the chest, your legs working overtime as you cosplayed a rabid rabbit – only for him to laugh even more, his arm securing you holstered across his shoulder like your punches meant nothing. They probably didn’t – he is literally still holding a fucking crossbow in his other hand, managing to secure it on his side while moving towards…you only assume it to be a murder cabin because of course those freaks would have a murder cabin, why the hell not – probably with some cool classy furniture made out of bones. 

— Go! You finally manage to secure hold on the edge of his hood, yanking it upwards in hopes of actually revealing who the fuck is he – a dirty businessman who doesn’t like those damn kids and their dog to ruin his plans for burning down the forest to create a shopping mall? A nice old man who showed you the road when you were lost, but he is actually on a spree to get revenge on all young people for killing his pet chicken in 1997? One of those creepy guys at the corner store who was weirdly obsessive over you, talked like a serial killer, and was constantly and also came in pair with the guy whose height and manner perfectly resembled a pair of killers that are after you now? 

Probably the grandpa. 

You yank the mask up and…

Ah. 

Of course, he is wearing a freaking balaclava. The only thing that you managed to see were his eyes – blue, icy, pretty, filled with anger as he pulled the hood down, concealing his features again, without you even managing to take a closer look. You gulp loudly, preparing to die. 

He smacks your ass with a power that would be enough to break a bone – your only saving grace is that the flesh of your butt provided some cushion, instead leaving a nasty bruise and inability to sit for at least a few days. That is if you would even survive long enough to have problems sitting on your backside. You won’t have such problems if you’re dead, right? 

— Quiet, Schatz. I already breaking the rule for taking you too early. 

— Br…breaking a rule? Do you have a freaking hunting pact? 

— I promised Tiger that we’d let you roam around a little. Make things interesting. 

Ah, yes, because letting you go the first time was such a brilliant idea on their behalf. The only reasons you didn’t go straight to the police is because A) You don’t speak rural Austrian German, B) Your phone can’t connect to anything, and C) You don’t even know in what part of the forest you are. Also because you’re scared that the police are going to turn out treacherous people, just like in horror movies, and that it would fucking destroy your trust. 

— I can roam around. I can roam around just fucking perfect, ass…

Another loud smack on your ass makes you feel like a misbehaving kitten. He grips your ass through your jeans and you whimper a little bit, starting to cry again as his hand goes straight for the bottom, gripping your cunt through the tough layer of denim. You thank every god you know for making you wear ugly, but protective and thick jeans. Every time his hand goes to cup your most intimate parts, the fabric of your jeans protects it – you don’t even feel too violated when he pushes his fingers even more, desperately trying to get a reaction out of you. 

— Language, Hase. Don’t make me discipline you, ja? — Fuck you! — Very gut then. That’s what you will do very soon.

Oh, but the rough material grinding over your delicate, thin panties and the sensitivity of your cunt really makes you feel…something. You won’t want to admit it, he smells like blood and sweat(still better than Marty, but you shut down that thought before it was born because fuck the new abortion laws), and he spanks your ass only to grope your pussy right after – and he also has masterful fingers that are working at the hem of your jeans, making the fabric press even more against the sensitive skin and…

You try to think of something – anything. 

Dead bodies, dead bodies, a lot of dead bodies, and there are some dead puppies too and everything is gross and smelly and…ah, it’s not working. 

König touches your lower parts with a wide grin under his hood – you’re fucking perfect, a nice addition to their house. You bite when he needs a little fight and you shut up when he touches you – perfect birdie, adorable birdie, Horangi will probably be bitching about spoiling the fun since you’d be stuck with them without a proper chase like he wanted, but the tiger would come around once he’d emptied himself on your warm body just once. 

You squirm under his touch, moan and cry and tremble and he can’t stop imagining you in millions of different positions. Stuck in the basement of their house, on your knees like a good girl you are, maybe with some branding or a collar – it’s more of a Horangi’s thing, even though König hopes he won’t have to break you too much until you’d call him daddy – pushing you to their shared bed, making sure that you’re nice and stuck in some open positions, allowing them to take you without much repercussions. 

— Let me go. 

— Nein. 

— Please? 

— I like your begging, Spatz. 

— It means you’d let me go? 

— Nein. You will tell your little friends, and then you will run to the police, ruining our fun. You are not going anywhere. 

— But, um…your culprit will be mad, no? 

As cunning as you can, you’re trying to seal the seeds of destruction among them. You’re trying your damn best not to act too charming or too fake, just so he won’t fall in love with you for real and would try murder-suicide you, but also with enough charisma checks so you���d actually convince him. 

But, it’s not really working – maybe, you aren’t as good at spreading havoc as you thought you were. 

— He’d live. We would get to hold you in your house, little one. It’s enough to make him understand my reasons. 

It’s definitely enough to make you want to puke. He is fast, not even bothering to check on the body of your friend as he goes past it – he just marks it with something that resembles a piece of torn fabric and pushes some leaves and sticks on the body, probably signalling to his friend to come and get rid of the body – and then he changed your position a little bit, securing a hand on your ass he goes deeper into the forest. 

You’re trying to remember the location, maybe counting the trees and every bush that seems like a good mark – but you, a city girl raised on a cocktail of Google Maps and a constant internet connection, have already grown tired of trying to remember everything. Every tree is the fucking same, every turn feels like the one before and, at some point, you were sure that he is actually going in circles to make you understand the location even less. Your blurry vision obstructs the goal even more – you cried so much, it feels like your very eyes gave out. With a sigh of defeat, you metaphorically roll over to your back and present your belly to the predators. 

After a hike that felt like hours, but was probably like 10 minutes long – this guy has long legs and the determination of a dog dragging a really cool stick home and, before you know it, you’re standing in front of a…house. Nice house. Expensive house, a big house, something less of a mansion, but more of a shed that you thought he was going to live in because he is literally a serial killer. 

Even serial killers made good property investments in the respective years – and you were too busy with useless stuff, like learning how to walk or trying not to choke yourself on a piece of carrot. 

— Welcome home, Schatz. 

He gently lets you down from his shoulder, allowing you to take a closer look at your surroundings. Normal living room – literally nothing weird. Maybe a bit too much hunting trophies, maybe a lot of guns lying around, some overly manly decorations, and very questionable art pieces but if you’d see that house advertised on the property website, you wouldn’t even consider it too weird. You were expecting…something. Blood on the walls, furniture made out of human flesh and skin, a devilish feast for imps and every like them…

You saw nothing as König punched the back of your head, putting you to sleep. 

You fucking hate forest trips. 

#cod #call of duty #cod x reader #cod x you #konig x reader #yandere konig #konig mw2 #reader insert #yandere cod #yandere x reader #horangi x you #horangi x reader #horangi x könig #kim horangi hong jin #horangi #modern warfare 2 #mw2 #yandere imagines #yandere #male yandere #slashers #horror

[cyanide-sippy-cup]

Okay, so I'm not a Poppy Playtime fan by any means, I only know what is presented in the games, I don't know any of the hidden lore stuff or whtv. I thought the last two chapters were cool but severely lacking but man, Chapter 3 went legitimately hard. Particularly in the topic of today's discussion:

The Hour of Joy

It was pretty clear in the previous chapters that all the coworkers were dead but this one finally shows it and oh man was I hyped.

Throughout the chapter we get teasers to what happened, and I just tossed it all out cause I thought it was just generic horror stuff. Like the hallucination bit with the screaming in the lobby. I didn't bat an eye and just forgot about it till the end. But after watching another playthrough I was like "oh shit" and actually physically sat up in interest.

And then there's the VHS. Everything about that presentation was so cool to me. Firstly, we have the footage itself, which presents a terrifying tale. These random workers just going about another day at the factory. Standing around, talking with one another, all near what they presume to merely be a statue. And the unimaginable occurs. This statue, the same one they've walked past a thousand times pounces on one of the workers, tearing him apart in an instant before setting its sight on the rest. And he had it lucky.

Everybody begins to flee, screaming, begging, questioning. "What was that?" "What's happening?" And then long pink arms dart from the ceiling and pluck them from the ground. More toys converge on them, on workers deeper in the facility who don't even know what is happening. One particular man is converged upon by dozens of the teachers to meet god-knows-what fate.

And then we have Poppy's story. How she heard it all from the case. Could hear them scream, plead, and die. Her voice shaking, on the verge of tears even describing it. "It went on for so long. So, so horribly long." And the name in it of itself. "The Hour of Joy". A chilling title that really lets you know the toys' thoughts on the event.

TL;DR: Mob Entertainment, you did good on this one.

#⚠️ #poppy playtime spoilers #and you know its good when i get hyped for something i didnt give a hoot about until it happened #poppy playtime #poppy playtime chapter 3 #indie horror #mascot horror #huggy wuggy #catnap poppy playtime #mommy long legs

[slayfics]

Muichiro’s Mansion

Muichiro x Reader series

Muichiro has a change of heart, but is that a good thing?

Chapter 4

You waited around wondering if Muichiro would really decide for a third time about letting you be his Tsuguko. If Mitsuri was correct and he had a bad memory he might forget that he promised to consider it again. As time went on you were wondering if you should dare write to him again... or accept the real possibility that it was time to start eating your words and ask another Hashira.  

Uzui you decided was out of the question now. Even if he accepted you after turning him down, being around his three wives who now have a vendetta against you sounded like pure hell.

Just as you were looking at a blank piece of paper contemplating on writing to Mitsuri or not, the crow with the long lashes flew through your window. You immediately recognized the crow now as Muichiros crow.  

"I still don't like you." It said dropped a letter in front of you then swiftly flew away.

You tore up the letter quickly. You were shocked Muichiro even remembered to write you back at all.

"I have reconsidered.

Training starts at dawn tomorrow.  

You may stay at my mansion while we train."

-Muichiro Tokito

You couldn't believe it, you read the short three sentences over and over again to make sure you weren't hallucinating. He really decided to train you. Not only that you'd be staying at his mansion while you trained. Suddenly it occurred to you, you had to pack. It was already starting to be night and you had to be up and over at the mansion at dawn. You quickly got up and began to pack your things. You stayed up most of the night packing although you didn't think you'd be able to sleep anyway. You couldn't believe it, finally all you've trained so hard for was happening.  

You made your way over to his mansion which proved to be a longer journey then you realized. The Hashira's mansions were kept a distance away in case a demon ever located them.  

When Muichiro's mansion finally came into view you could see him standing outside. Your heart sank. You were so busy with packing and the logistics of getting here you hadn't thought about what you would say to him...

"Good morning." He greeted you.

"Good morning master Tokito. Thank y-"

"That will not be necessary. Please put your things inside and we will begin right away."  

Muichiro’s crow showed you the way to your room while taking condescending looks at you and ruffling its feathers along the way.

"You're not good enough, you know." It squawked.

"Thank you for the warm welcome." You retoured rolling your eyes. 

"HMPH. Well, here is your room. Don't bother getting comfortable though. I'm sure Master Tokito will bore of you soon." She said then flew off.  

Lovely you thought to yourself but brushed off the crow’s remarks refusing to let it dampen your mood. By the looks of it no one else stayed at this mansion. It was high up in the mountains where it was usually cloudy and the place had a lonesome melancholy vibe all through it. You started to wonder if Muichiro ever felt lonely up here with just his... wonderful crow to keep him company.  

After you set your things down you came back out to the entry room where you found Muichiro waiting.

"We will train outside today. Just the basics. I want to see what you can do."

"Ok that sounds good. You'll have to thank your crow for giving me a lovely welcome." You said trying to lighten his serious mood. However, Muichiro did not respond. He turned to walk outside and you followed him wondering if he understood it was a joke or just didn't care. The walk out to the forest felt long and Mucihiro didn't say a word the whole time.

When he finally turned around you stopped and waited for instructions.  

"Swing your sword." He said simply.

"Um at anything in particular or-"

"No. Just swing it. From left to right."

"Right, ok..." You said and followed his instructions.

"Several more times please." He said analyzing you with wide eyes. You did as instructed feeling awkward and uncomfortable. You wish there were some icebreakers before, this made you feel extremely nervous.  

"You are awfully slow. We will work on that first." He muttered.  

"Oh u-"

"Swing it up and down now please."  

This continued for hours on end. Muichiro would give you a direction to swing your sword and then insult you in some way. While it didn't feel like it was on purpose it weighed heavy on your self-esteem. It felt like every movement you were doing was wrong to him. He never once said anything nice or gave any inflection of emotion in his voice.

Finally, when the sun was starting to set he decided to end training for the day.  

"That is enough for today." He said simply raising his hand.

"Oh ok.. well how did I do?" You asked, wishing for some feedback or conversation after the very awkward day.

"You have a lot to work on." He said.

"Yes, I heard you say that before." You replied, starting to feel aggravated at his constant put downs. 

"If you heard me before then there was no need to ask. Tomorrow, we start again at the same time." He said then walked off back to the mansion.  

The next few days were more of the same. Muichiro did bring out a practice dummy to watch you strike but the comments were always the same, too slow, needs improvement, not enough force. To make it worse you could never read what the Hashira was feeling. His indifference to everything was starting to drive you mad. Did he regret saying yes to training you? Did he really think you needed so much improvement that you were hopeless? You started to cry feeling like you had made a big mistake wanting so hard to be his Tsuguko. This felt awful. You couldn't remember a time you felt so hopeless. You needed to get these emotions out somehow.

You took out a piece of paper and began to write to Mitsuri.  

Mitsuri,

I feel like I made a huge mistake. I think Master Tokito hates me. He never has anything nice to say about my abilities and it feels like everything I do is wrong. I don't know what to do, I feel so worthless. I just needed to vent. I'm so sorry I'm sure you're very busy being a Hashira so don't feel the need to respond. I just needed to release this somehow.”

You sent your crow off with your letter and went to sleep feeling a bit better after getting that off your chest.

The next morning while you were getting ready for another training session you heard a knock at the door.

You came to the entryway to see Muichiro already opening the door.

"Hi!! Muichiro you're looking lovely as ever it's so good to see you! Mind if I come in?" Mitsuri said gleefully.

"Yes." Muichiro responded but Mitsuri was already walking inside.

"Oh good morning, how are you!" She exclaimed and ran over to hug you.

"Hi Mitsuri, what are you doing here?"

"Yes, please leave, we have a busy day planned." Muichiro explained.

"Oh don't be such a downer Muichior. Aren't you happy to see me? I got your Tsuguko's letter and I think you need my help."

"Thank you but no." Muichiro responded, still holding the door open for her to leave.

"Well too bad my friend is in trouble and needs help so I'm staying. I'm another Hashira so you have to respect me." She said sticking her tongue out.

"Very well. Accompany us to training." He gave in.  

Did Mitsuri really come because of your letter? And did you hear that right, she considered you a friend? You hoped she wouldn't mention any of the things you said about Muichiro in the letter in front of him. 

#demon slayer #kny x reader #kny x you #anime x reader #anime x y/n #demon slayer x reader #kimetsu muichiro #demon slayer muichiro #muichiro x y/n #muichiro x reader #muichiro tokito #kny muichiro #demon slayer x you #demon slayer x y/n #demon slayer hashira #mist hashira #kny hashira #hashira x reader #kimetsu no yaiba hashira #kimetsu no yaiba #Muichiro’s mansion

[hiwelcometothemonstersancturary]

Do you have ideas for how the Angel and The Prototype ship would occur and progress? (Like, who would get feelings for who first, who would they get advice from, how the toys would react, if it would be an even bigger romcom than Dogday and Catnap…)

FINALLY, MY TIME HAS ARRIVED.

Angel x Prototype in the Everyone Is Saved AU first starts after Angel finds a nice house for all the toys to live in. After everyone is moved out and settled in, Catnap convinces Prototype to leave the abandoned factory. Prototype reluctantly agrees, making sure to grab every single document he can find with him. I know Prototype is known by the authorities because Angel had to tell them about him, but not by the general public. When he leaves Playtime, it's a very quick and effective escape and into a small hut outside the farm.

This new place is way smaller than Playtime, physically wise, but it feels so much better in every way possible. Prototype is weirded out by everything at this point, even the sound of the toys playing with each other and talking like normal kids and young adults would do instead of trying to hunt each other for food like before. Elliot's mind is full, all the memories from the toys he absorbed together with his own, and now his brain finally has time to work out through the +10 years of trauma. He dissociates a lot, his hallucinations get weirder, all the good stuff about dealing with trauma, and the only ones who are there for him are Catnap and Angel.

Oh, Angel...

So we all can agree that Angel is also suffering from PTSD, right? And on top of that, they're taking care of +80 kids! Yeah some of them are young adults, but from Angel's POV those are still THEIR kids, and they have no idea how they work. Except Prototype does, and thus their relationship evolves from merely two adults desperate to give a better life to monster toys to two adults having no fucking idea what they're supposed to do for them. Prototype feels like he will never be able to repay for his sins, Angel feels like they'll never be able to provide everything the kids need. So one day Angel stays up late in Prototype's hut just talking about the toys, with Proto/Elliot also talking about them, and the two just go "this feels so overbearing, right?", and the other agrees.

When Prototype's relationship with Catnap finally gets better when they have some important conversations about the decade-long post Hour of Joy, there's a notable shift in his behavior, because now that he feels like he has his kid back it's like things can indeed be better. Cue to Angel getting better at dealing with the other toys, and as months go by their bond becomes stronger and more than just "hey the kids gave me a lot of work today and I need to drink/smoke, i'll stay at your hut so I won't be a bad example to them".

The really good stuff hits only after Poppy finds out that Prototype = Elliot Ludwig = her actual dad, because it's Angel grabbing Proto around and going "TALK. WITH. YOUR. KIDS", and it's the first time in decades since someone ever did that to him, because who in their right mind would bicker with a monster like HIM? And then Angel does exactly that. Smacks him with a newspaper and demands him to get his shit together instead of spiraling further into depression.

Somewhere during the months where Prototype is being promoted to parent #2 by each toy, one by one, is when Angel realizes that their friendship is getting a bit Funky(tm), but they just. Ignore it. Two years post-Playtime Co. go by and Angel is just there like "what I feel for parent #2 is entirely platonic and I do not think of him as anything else than a friend at all hahaha it would be weird right. Because he still talks to me about how he misses his wife (they divorced each other +70 years ago) and how he feels like he failed literally everyone important to him. I mean he didn't fail me what I see is just a guy struggling to be better and honestly I'm worse than him and- oh wait What" until like, they go to a family trip and Prototype decides to stay behind to watch over the farm, and Angel misses him way more than they think they would just miss a dear friend, and it's not just because he helps them with the kids.

Anyways Angel is panicking in all levels except physical when one day Prototype is talking with Catnap and Poppy (they're having a three-toy "tea party" because Pop wanted them to have a small family gathering) and she looks at him in the eye(s) and says "dad, are you sure you don't feel anything else for Angel?", and Proto is just "why are you asking me that???". Cue to Catnap staring at him like

And then Prototype realizes it's not very normal kind of platonic two months later when Angel, as per usual, is called by a scammer. And, as per house protocol, all the toys immediately go to the living room as Angel says "hold up, can you talk to my husband for a moment?" and gives Prototype the phone and tells him to do his thing and annoy the scammer. And Prototype feels weirdly a tiny bit too happy about pretending to be someone else's husband.

At this point the other toys are eyeing the two of them and going "no way..." as the two IDIOTS show them that yeah, yeah, they're witnessing the second romcom of the house, after Catnap and Dogday's telenovela-level worthy levels of drama. Some of them, like Kickin and Dogday himself, think it's no big deal, just two people being friendly, that's all, and then some time later Prototype accidentally sleeps over Angel's room during a thunderstorm (Angel is afraid he'll get struck by lightning so he stays in the main house for safety), and Angel, a genius Made In Brazil, decides to sleep in their room anyways because why not, Proto is just giving free teddybear vibes.

Proto wakes up and just accepts his fate (he's happy with that). Angel is half-asleep and very content with the setup.

... Anyways. Next day goes by, surprise surprise, the family's cuddle pile for movie night now has Prototype added to it, and it's not because Angel sleeps better when he's around. Nope.

Poppy and Catnap are considering start doing some bets to see how long it'll take their parents to realize It's Not Normal Platonic Anymore(TM) at this point, and are unimpressed when Prototype goes to them, sighs, and agrees that Poppy indeed was right. Meanwhile Angel has NO IDEA what to do because it's Prototype/Elliot, no way they have a chance, they'll just end up ruining their little weird family structure, and Dogday and Mommy Long Legs calm them down.

Bobby Bearhug and Craftycorn are working with the other toys to see if they can make Angel realize they need to do something, because Prototype is NOT going to do ANYTHING because his therapy is going strong but his communication issues are stronger. Hoppy and Picky know all about it and try to make Prototype do something about it, while Kickin and Bubba are Dissapointed But Not Surprised at the Situationship going on. "Guess Dogday and Catnap aren't the only ones with communication issues...", they agree, not realizing they also have communication issues. Mommy Long Legs is losing her fucking mind because HOW can one household have SO MANY IDIOTS RUNNING AROUND AND WHY ARE HER ADOPTIVE PARENTS LIKE THAT. AAAAAA. It's good drama tho.

Poppy tasks herself with keeping tabs on what's happening between her two parents. Catnap is watching in the background like "stop being so dramatic over this, Pop, they're working adults, they sure can talk". He may or may have not be gathering information to share with the old ladies at the church he goes to, because those girls LOVE Angel and are all curious as to how their relationship with the kids' "second parent" going. Catnap never tells them much asides from "my mother is, once again, terrible at communication, but has been doing well", but even he starts getting a bit impatient at one point.

Prototype and Angel's big telenovela-level worthy of romance drama lasts a few months, mostly because they both need lots of time with themselves in order to figure out what to do, and also mostly because at some point Angel is pretty content with just being Prototype's non queerplatonic/romantic partner. They're just going with the flow, initial anxiety being left behind and all of that.

Also Angel is a really big freaking dumbass, because Prototype's way of affection is through pampering, and he has been pampering Angel for MONTHS at this point and our human just didn't notice it's not platonic pampering. Prototype gets them more than one flower bouquet and Angel is just "oh this will be very nice for the house, Bobby and Long Legs love red roses!", and he keeps giving them the bouquets because it makes Angel happy, thus making him happy.

No, Elliot doesn't realize Angel is also stupid. He just tries to flirt like it's the 1930s while Angel is flirting like "haha what if we were married. Just kidding! Unless...?"

I think Angel doesn't exactly confess to Prototype in a traditional way. One night they're both chilling at either the hut or Angel's room after a long day and Angel gathers the courage to ask him what they even are. "You're the children's Parent, and I am Elliot Ludwig". Angel reworks their question to be "I don't think we're just platonic friends anymore".

"Do you want to be more?", Prototype asks, hopeful. Angel pauses, then agrees. "Then we can be more". After some talk they settle on either queerplatonic or romantic - I don't know which one would work best, but I think they aren't just platonic or just romantic. Angel and Prototype understand and respect each other a lot, and their relationship, for me, can't be defined with a simple "it's romance" definition. They're just them, and that's what matters.

Also Prototype goes "I WAS TRYING TO GET YOUR ATTENTION FOR MONTHS!" and Angel goes "I WAS REFERRING TO YOU AS MY HUSBAND ALL THE TIME AND YOU JUST THOUGHT I WAS JOKING AND BEING A SMARTASS????"

... Also Angel can wear a ring now! Prototype as well. They tell the kids about their new Situationship and Poppy very happily says "I won our bet!" to Catnap. Everyone else is glad for their parents but also their real-life telenovela is no more..,....

Anyways, I think this post is getting too long, I may share hcs about how their relationship works later, if anyone is interested!

#poppy playtime #save everyone au #poppy worldwide #the angel #experiment 1006 #poppy playtime prototype #i'll convert this entire fandom to love this crackship #c'mon everyone we can do it #also girl help???? i need a ship name! #angel x prototype

[arrowsperpetualcringe]

I THINK I UNDERSTAND WHAT HAPPENED IN EMESIS BLUE IN REGARDS TO THE MURDER OF SCOUT’S MOM

Theory under the cut <3

Okay so

Basically, I think Medic killed Scout’s mom. However, it’s not the Medic we see in the film, it’s a Medic from the future who’s revived himself after the car crash.

WHICH I KNOW SOUNDS DUMB AS FUCK BUT HOLD ON HEAR ME OUT---

OKAY SO LISTEN RIGHT?

After Medic fails to revive Scout, we see him sort of slip into the past, where he sees some past events from a different perspective.

When revisiting the scene of the murder of Jeremy’s mother, we see the killer turn around, and reveal... this.

Throughout the film, we see Medic have many hallucinations. But I don’t think this is one of them. No. This? This is real.

But how do we know this is real and not just another horrific hallucination?

Well.

Right before this scene, we see Medic in the past scene where he’s inspecting Jeremy. He pushes over one of his screens, which in turn, knocks over his box of tapes. That interaction with the environment tells us this is real. He actually went into the past, and his past self is what causes the box of tapes to spill over. We can then reason that the scene where he ends up back in the scene of the murder is real as well.

That Medic is real.

And it’s not the current him--- hell, it’s not even the past him. It’s his future self.

This is him after the car crash.

You can tell because of his eyes.

They are similar, if not identical to the wounds we see on Medic after it’s revealed he’s been in a car crash.

We know death is not permanent to Medic, so what makes this one different? Just because it occurs at the end of the film? Who’s to say he can’t revive himself off screen?

And you may be asking yourself, “if he revived himself after the car crash, why is his face still wounded like that?”

Well--- We actually see in the film itself, that not all the effects of death are undone by Medic’s revivals.

Take a look at this screenshot of Medic after raising from the dead at Archibald’s funeral.

There’s no doubt you noticed it upon your viewing of the film. He’s pale, his eyes have many bags, and dark circles. Hell, he barely even blinks or emotes after coming back. He was dead for a while and it shows. He doesn’t look he same. He looks as if he’s a walking corpse. Because he is.

So, assuming he revives himself after the car crash, we can therefore conclude that his eyes would still be... well, fucked up.

And the icing on the cake that I feel solidifies this theory even further is the fact that Jeremy says this when Medic releases him from the coffin he was trapped in... He punches him and says this.

Before he was kidnapped, he saw him. He saw future Medic committing the act, and understandably assumed that it was the Medic before him that did so.

Also--- consider how the murderer of Jeremy’s mom caught Scout’s attention in the first place.

...He then goes on to use his exact technique later...

So yeah... that’s Medic... A Medic from the future who’s already lived through all this shit...

So if we go with my theory, which--- I’m assuming we are since you read this far...

Why?

What would cause future Medic to murder Jeremy’s mom?

Well, I feel like it’s safe to assume the combination of everything that’s happened to him, plus seeing the contents of the suitcase... probably drove him mad, thus leading him to being capable of commiting such a crime.

But “WHY?” you say “Why kill his mom?”

Well.

I don’t know for sure, but I believe... it’s because of this...

“You sure you don’t wanna come in? At least say ‘hi’ to Ma?”

IT’S EVEN WHAT’S ECHOED BACK TO HIM WHEN HE PICKS UP THE PHONE BEFORE HIS MOM’S MURDER IS REVEALED

OHOHOHOOOO MAN....

If this is connected like I think it is, that is some GNARLY FORESHADOWING, DUDE... THIS FILM IS A FUCKING MASTERPIECE.

Yes, I believed that future Medic, in his maddened state decided to say “hi” to Ma...

GOD....

BUT WAIT, THERE’S MORE.

I believe future Medic is the one who wrote “CONAGHER SLAUGHTERHOUSE” on the wall in blood

So like... We all remember this, right?

The writing that tipped Medic off to Jeremy’s location.

I believe it was future Medic who did this.

While we know future Medic was at the scene of the crime and killed Scout’s mom, we also know that he is not the one who kidnapped Scout. That was Pyro, as seen here.

And while extremely fucked up--- I do believe future Medic still cares for Jeremy. I mean he has to, right? His corpse is seen smiling. Because while he was dying, in purgatory, he got to see Jeremy again. He still cares for him. He still wants Jeremy alive.

So, to tip his past self off, he wrote Jeremy’s location on the wall in his mother’s blood...

“CONAGHER SLAUGHTERHOUSE”

I also theorize that Future Medic is the one who’s been stalking Jeremy from the shadows... having a weird sort of obsession with him and keeping him safe. But I don’t have anything to back that one up. But it’s interesting to think about.

So....

Y e a h.

That’s my theory.

Hope you enjoyed :]

#tf2 #team fortress 2 #emesis blue #tf2 medic #tf2 scout #emesis blue theory #theory #analysis #emesis blue analysis #rambling

[factual-fantasy]

26 ASKSKSS💖✨💖✨💖

@lathan-chillyfilm

The other Power-ups work differently to the Fire/Ice flowers..

Any power-ups that transform the bros bodies usually expend energy by just keeping them transformed. And even if the bros don't actively use that power, it'll eventually just drain itself away.

For example, the super shroom. Making Mario grow big and keeping him big consumes power. If he ate a super shroom and just stood there, eventually he would shrink back to normal. Running around. jumping, punching, that activity would make it drain faster though.

Same goes for the Super bell, mini mushroom, mega mushroom, super leaf, double cherry,,, etc. Just keeping the bros transformed consumes power. The fire/ice flowers don't transform the bros though. Mario and Luigi's bodies stay the same, they just become outlets to expel the flowers power. And if they don't use it.. well.. its gonna stay stored up in their bodies. And eventually freeze/burn them to death..

The only odd case when it comes to Power-ups is the 1-Up mushroom. It stores itself in the host's body, and doesn't effect the host or release its power unless it needs too. Mario could touch a 1-Up, and then 15 years later he dies and that's when the 1-Up will release its power. All though those 15 years Mario would have had 0 side effects from having it in his body. Its as if it didn't exist at all..

Its always possible I'll return to them! :00 As we've seen XDD

Hmm,, I haven't really thought too much about them other than the stuff I already talked about in the OG post..

But I was thinking that the imp species could have all these wacky and bizarre shapes at the end of their tails that dont really make sense..? Jevil's tail being this odd T/Y shape is actually rather bland/common. But other than that,, I cant really think of any other developments to their species <:/ Sorry! Thank you for taking interest though! :DD

@mason-gaylord

:DD thank you! I wish the same for you! :]]]

Oh man.. scary is what it looks like.

I can see them all just living on the octopod. Traveling around the ocean in hopes of finding livable waters. All grieving over the loss of their families.. I cant imagine the pain they'd suffer, the hardships they'd face.. and what they'd have to do to survive..

@kaiserdarken

Freddy is his best fweind <:'}

@the-cactus-taco

I have not played it actually.. is it any good? :0 Those Mallow and Geno characters sound neat! :)

(Also there was an OG one??)

Oof, my Gravity Falls era? What an unfortunate time to find me-

None the less I'm happy you stuck around! :DD It means the world to me, thank you so much!! 💖💖

XD I REALLY AM EVERYWHERE-

@rubydraft

WAAAAHHDGGB THANK YOU MUCHCH!!!!! 💖💖😭✨💖😭💖💖

Thank you so much! I'm flattered to hear it! :DD

Grillby did.. :(

@tallchest13-blog

DUUUUDE I HAVE A BIG SWORD TOO!! WE COULD BE BIG SWORD BUDDIES!! >>:0000✨⚔✨

:DD Well thank YOU for leaving me a kind comment! Very much appreciated! :}} 💖

If any of the three Octodads were to experience a hallucination, it would probably be either Natquik or Calico Jack. But since I'm going through a re-write of Natquik's backstory and I don't actually know how traumatizing his re-write will be... I'm gonna say that Calico Jack is most likely to have one.

Although I'm not sure what would cause it.. mayyybe an encounter with a creature in the everglades could remind him of a traumatizing experience he had..? And that panic could result in hallucinations? I actually know very little about how hallucinations work so its hard to say what would exactly trigger one to occur.. <:(

I have plans for them to encounter a lot of Kwazii's monsters in someway. :0

Wow, only my second? Man. I feel like I've done more style updates/redesigns than that. <XD I guess its only two-

(Also I'm glad you like them! :DD Thank you! )

@tanileaf

XD I'm glad you like them and the Queen! Thank you so much! :}}

@pinkbomb08

Well thank YOU for sticking around and sending me a nice message! Merry Christmas and a happy new year to you as well! :}}}

@kautar-21

MERRY LATE CHRISTMAS! :DDD Thank you so much! :}}

Also sorry, I don't take requests! But you just reminded me that I should probably go buy that book-

@flutehammer

Oooo that's interesting :0 I imagine that Barnacles would look like one of the Freddy's. As for the others I'm not sure! :o I know there was a FNAF fan game that had a cat and penguin animatronic though. Five nights at candy's was it.?

(Also thank you! Same to you! :D )

I don't know if its necessarily pain..? More like.. a panic attack maybe?

When they're separated, their systems are flooded with commands to seek out the other. And if they cant find th.em or reach them? Well.. those commands will get overwhelming.

But that doesn't mean that you cant do maintenance on them. My idea was that there's a simple procedure where you take both of them to parts and service, put one aside and put one on the work bench.. and then shut them both down at the same time. Then when the work is done, reactivate both of them and return them to their room. Easy!

As for why they designed them like this? The main idea I had was that having this A.I. meant that they would naturally follow each other around in a way that seemed natural. Fazbear entertainment really wanted their animatronics to seem life like, but they also don't want Fred and Spring to ever separate. They want them to always be in the same room for photo shoots and meet and greets.

This A.I. means that if Spring is talking to a guest and a kid tried to lead Fred by the hand to another room.. Fred would stop at the doorway and redirect himself and the kid back into the room. "Lets play here instead!" "My friends Spring Bonnie is here, lets play here instead!" Meanwhile Springs conversation remains uninterrupted. This in turn makes them seem more life like and also prevents them from seperating.

Its not very strong reasoning but its all I've got to be honest <XDD

Also as for Spring loosing Fred..? It would be impossible for him to function without Fred. If they scrapped one, they'd have to scrap the other..

Oh! No no, not Horrortale Papyrus. This Papyrus is one I made myself! :00

Do you mean help wanted 2? :0 If so I'm not sure yet.. I'm watching Markiplier's playthrough and he hasn't finished the game yet..

Also Sun is still the same old Sun as far as I've seen.. He's not my favorite animatronic personality wise.. <XD But I guess he's alright

@hexyz09

XD tbh with how insane the FNAF lore is getting now? I wouldn't be fazed if they came out with a storyline about falling into a different world through a closet-

@beryl-shade

I've made a couple doodles/drawings of Caine and he doesn't have the wind up hat thing.. But now that you mention it, that kind'a sound like this gals version of Caine :00

#my response #fnaf security breach #super mario bros #undertale #deltarune #seam and jevil #seam deltarune #jevil #octonauts #octodads

[lemon-natalia]

Harrow the Ninth Reaction - Chapter 6

even immortal Lyctors have to deal with work meetings, no wonder she’s pissed off if she’s been dealing with Teams meetings for ten thousand years straight

this is Mercymorn! she doesn’t seem very impressed by Ianthe or Harrow. ‘sacred hand’ isn’t too bad, but if my job title was ‘holy thumb’ i think i’d quit

ooh i didn’t connect it before, but Harrow wrote a letter for if her eyes changed - and thats specifically a sign of becoming a Lyctor!

i mean Harrow is relatively young, but i feel like to someone ten thousand years old anyones gonna feel like a baby after a while. also imagine Mercy's reaction if Isaac had managed to become a Lyctor lol

Mercymorn reminds Ianthe of her mother? wow i don’t think i want to meet Mrs Tridentarius

ok, so the Erebos isn’t actually his seat like i had assumed, thats somewhere else

‘his close personal interest in this war’ well yeah he’s the Emperor i would hope he's invested in it

the Emperor hugging Mercymorn and her freezing up - feels like theres an interesting dynamic there

‘I know exactly who is behind this terrible blow’ great! if you could give some handy exposition so the reader could also know, that would be brilliant

the last person Harrow called ‘teacher’ turned out to be a vengeful ghost, so this doesn’t feel great

did he just resurrect that random Cohort member??

the Body looking at the Emperor … it just occurred to me that she might not just be a hallucination of Harrow, but maybe she made some kind of actual mental connection with the Locked Tomb body

oooh the drama between Mercy & Augustine, now i want a Lyctor soap opera

we know that Harrow told herself via letter to never give up the sword, but i think its interesting that the Emperor is letting her keep it

ok so all the water & magma metaphors are an explanation for how they’re able to travel so far in such a short space of time - kind of like Star Wars hyperspace travel, except actually given an explanation lol

‘voyaging nervously into the chamber of another person’s brain’ another person, not specifically Ortus here, hmm

#lemon natalia reads the locked tomb #the locked tomb #tlt #harrow the ninth #the locked tomb liveblog

[willows-woes]

I think Tori Spring was in a manic, or at least mixed, state at the end of Solitaire.

Also, just a heads up that this post is long and detailed. I'm not making up a headcanon based off nothing, y'know? Also, spoilers. If you don't want to be spoiled, please don't read this post until after you finish Solitaire. Note this post is VERY, VERY detailed with a shit ton of psychiatric mumbo-jumbo, to put it informally. A lot of clinical terms and definitions are used here because I'm a fucking nerd when it comes to this stuff. Due to this, I really don't expect this post to get popular, haha.

Did I, seriously, research Bipolar Disorder just to make a point? Yes. I did.

According to the official NHS website,

The manic phase of bipolar disorder may include:

• Not feeling like sleeping

(It is implied she hasn't slept.)

• Feeling full of great new ideas and having important plans

(She's talking about Solitaire as if it's some big, important thing she has to do. She's been obsessed with it. As I said in my previous point, it's implied she refused to sleep because of the obsession.)

• Feeling very happy, elated, or overjoyed

• Talking very quickly

• Being delusional, having hallucinations and disturbed or illogical thinking

(This is up to interpretation. She could be using a metaphor, but she mentions being scared of the "giants and demons" multiple times throughout the book.)

Now, you may be asking: Willow, why manic instead of hypomanic?

Good question. Hypomania cannot involve hallucinations or delusions. Psychosis does not occur in hypomania, only mania, which is more severe.

Another question you may ask could be, Okay, but why did you bring up mixed states if mania seems to fit well?

Also a good question.

You see, a mixed state is when someone experiences both hypomanic/manic and depressive symptoms at once. Which may, also, be what Tori is going through.

While Tori, at the end of the book, shows more (in my opinion) symptoms of mania than depression, the latter isn't nonexistent.

Back to the NHS descriptions.

During a period of depression, your symptoms may include:

• Feelings of emptiness or worthlessness

• Suicidal ideation

(There's more examples in this part of the book, but in my opinion, this is the clearest expression of suicidal intent she gives, as well as the earliest.)

• Feelings of guilt and despair

(Note how she says failed. She thinks very lowly of herself in this sentence, clearly. Even though it wasn't her fault, and, objectively, she did all she could.)

Of course, there's more symptoms of mania and depression than what I just listed, but those were the ones that I had proof of Tori experiencing. If you want to look up bipolar disorder for yourself to learn about it more in-depth, by all means, do.

Back to the point of this post. Tori Spring shows symptoms of mania at this point of the story. However, depression can also involve psychotic symptoms and difficulty sleeping. THIS is where it gets complicated.

In my opinion, however, it's not entirely impossible that she was experiencing a mixed episode, OR that maybe, at the very end of the book, she experienced a sudden drop into depression. Both are possible, and since I'm not in Tori's head, all I can do is guess.

A misconception you may have is, Wait. Willow, doesn't Bipolar require mania and depression for diagnosis? If Tori was only experiencing a mixed episode, she can't have bipolar, right?

You're actually wrong.

Let me take out an ICD-11 description.

Although a single Manic or Mixed Episode is sufficient for a diagnosis of Bipolar Type I Disorder, the typical course of the disorder is characterized by recurrent Depressive and Manic or Mixed Episodes. Although some episodes may be Hypomanic, there must be a history of at least one Manic or Mixed Episode.

So, therefore, Tori Spring can classify as Bipolar with a "history of at least one Manic or Mixed Episode." Which, she has.

I think that's it. If you made it THIS FAR without falling asleep or getting confused as shit, I applaud you.

#tw suicidality #bipolar headcanons #tori spring #solitaire alice oseman #tori spring headcanons #solitaire headcanons #heartstopper headcanons #mental illness

[emotionallychargedtowel]

The Eighth Sense e5 & e6: portraying trauma with nuance

Episodes 5 and 6 of The Eighth Sense have really blown up a discourse bomb in tumblr’s BL scene. I had been putting off watching these episodes because I had gathered that episode 6 ended with something pretty distressing, and stuff like that sometimes hits me pretty hard, especially when it’s left as a cliffhanger. But I was already tempted to rip off the band-aid and watch it anyway, and then everyone has been debating aspects of these episodes. So I just had to see what all the discussion was about and figure out my own take on it.

In case it’s not obvious, the following will have spoilers for the series up to and including episode 6. I have a lot to say about this, because it touches on subjects that have been a major focus for me in my personal life, in my previous work as a trainee therapist, and in my research and writing. But I want this to be a manageable read, so I’m going to put things in bullet form when I can to keep them brief and organized and I’m going to make some section headings to help with skimming or skipping around. But before I launch into the rest, there’s one thing I should get out of the way: I don’t think any part of episodes 5 or 6 are a hallucination, a dream, or otherwise did not occur. I do think that there are aspects of the way the show portrays certain things that indicate dissociation and/or an acute trauma response. I’ll talk more about that below. (Hey, @waitmyturtles, this is the epic TES post I’ve been writing off and on for two days! I hope it’s of interest.)

Here are the section headings I’ll use below, to give a sense of what I’m going to talk about:

Conceptualizing Jae Won: Or, what I think is happening with him

Jae Won’s therapist - comments and interpretations

Jae Won’s therapist - medication management

Human beings’ amazing capacity for self-blame

Interpreting show production choices psychologically

Are the creators of The Eighth Sense going to pull a “who shot JR?” move?

Conceptualizing Jae Won: Or, what I think is happening with him

We don’t know how his younger brother died, but we know that he died in front of Jae Won when they were together, and it’s clear that he blames himself. I would be shocked if he was actually at fault even a little bit. But it does appear to have happened “on his watch” in a sense that lends itself to blaming himself. This is a huge issue, one that I’ll discuss in more detail later on.

Even before his brother’s death, Jae Won was clearly under a ton of pressure from his parents. And his father appears to be emotionally and, almost certainly, physically abusive. This is also far more likely to have pre-dated his brother’s death than to have only developed afterward.

In addition to pressure and abuse, I think it’s pretty clear that Jae Won was a parentified child. This means that he was put in a position of having to take care of his parents’ emotional needs as a child. This kind of role reversal has profound effects throughout the parentified person’s life. 

Jae Won’s self-blame about his brother’s death means he was always going to be predisposed to stay stuck in the chronic version of the acute trauma response instead of moving through the natural healing process. In other words, he was almost certain to develop PTSD.

This is less clearly shown in the show, but my impression is that Jae Won has a deep-seated depressive tendency that existed before the loss of his brother. This would make sense for someone who faced the family-of-origin difficulties that he did. 

When he did develop PTSD, as I have no doubt he did, Jae Won’s existing challenges were going to make him even more likely to develop the depressive symptoms of PTSD than others. We’ve seen some of these in the show already:

feeling alienated from others, unable to form meaningful connections with them,

anhedonia (an inability to feel positive emotions), and

negative beliefs about himself, other people, and the world.

All of this is happening at once. He’s dealing with PTSD, but he also still has all the same habits and beliefs he had before due to the parentification and training in people-pleasing, so he’s supposed to bottle up all of this pain. And if it’s his fault (in his mind) that his brother died, how much more does he owe his parents than he ever did before? This is a distorted, unhealthy way of thinking about all of it, but these kinds of maladaptive thoughts and expectations happen all the time with trauma survivors.

Jae Won’s therapist really sums all of this up very well when she says, “All your worries, not doing what you want to do because you do not want to let your parents down, and trying hard to be a good person to everyone because you do not want to disappoint others. Don’t you think it might be all because of your younger brother? Your younger brother, who got into an accident while with you. Your younger brother, who you couldn’t protect. And you are struggling to live your life for him as well.” 

Jae Won’s therapist - comments and interpretations

I went into this series feeling nervous about its portrayal of therapy. I was very excited that therapy was being portrayed at all, mind you! It’s horrifying how seldom we see therapy mentioned as an option, much less shown, either in BLs or kdramas, and I’ve hoped for this to change for a long time now. But therapy  is shown in an inaccurate way so often in media. And often, we see therapists and other mental health professionals breaking ethical rules. So I was on my guard, big time.

There’s one thing I really take issue with about Jae Won’s therapist, and it’s somewhat of a small thing: her office is way, way too dark! I just don’t think that kind of low lighting, with a lot of the illumination coming from her aquarium and other tinted light sources, is professional or conducive to therapy work. Of course, it’s obvious that her office is lit in this way because it looks cool and sets a certain mood for the show. And that’s fine. It’s a very stylized show in a lot of ways. But it makes me a little tweaky to watch it. 

Some of the things she does in the therapy space with Jae Won are a bit open to interpretation, and could be debated. But I view her in a fairly charitable light, and I found that a favorable interpretation wasn’t difficult to justify at all. I ended up viewing her (so far, at least) as a very skillful and effective therapist.

I loved it when she joked, in the first scene after the credits for episode 1, “For God’s sake! Just tell me what your worries are!” Jae Won isn’t great at sharing. He’s been trained from early childhood not to show his messy, vulnerable emotions around authority figures. Jae Won is not an easy client by any stretch, so she may have been showing a mild version of some real frustration with him when she began that comment with mock-hostility. But he seems really sensitive to criticism, real or perceived. Coming at him directly about this could be risky. Using humor is a good way to get around this sensitivity pretty effectively. It’s worth noting, though, that I wouldn’t endorse this kind of move by a therapist unless they knew a client very well and had built a solid rapport with them.

The comment I quoted above (”Don’t you think it might be all because of your younger brother?”) connects so many of Jae Won’s interpersonal difficulties to the loss of his brother in a skillful way. It was very astute and well-put. But there are some things I would quibble with about it.

First, I’m kind of surprised that she is only saying this explicitly this far into therapy with Jae Won. It seems rather late to make such an observation considering this constellation of issues has, without a doubt, been in place the entire time they’ve been working together. This could definitely have been done sooner.

At the same time, paradoxically, it’s delivered abruptly, as if she blurted it out too soon. Actually, the abruptness comes from the fact that there’s not sufficient lead-up to the comment in their discussion beforehand.

Though the show’s treatment of mental health is strong overall, I think this part of this scene suffered from flawed writing. If I had written this scene, I would have made a change that I think would have resolved both of these issues. Instead of introducing this insight as if the therapist has just voiced it for the first time, I would have presented it as something she and Jae Won have touched on together more than once during their work together. Anyone who’s been to therapy knows that the same ideas, which appear as shocking revelations at first, often have to be returned to many times and worked through before we can benefit from them. She could have said something like, “This is that issue we’ve talked about before, right? It seems like another case of your beliefs about your brother’s death causing trouble in other areas of your life.”

Even better, she could have been shown quoting some kind of metaphor or shorthand Jae Won came up with himself when they’d spoken about this previously. For example, I had a client once who used to talk about metaphorically carrying around a giant, heavy book where he wrote down all of his failures. He described it in a similar way to “the catalog of mistakes” (I’m not going to share his actual wording, of course). Whenever I would use his wording, saying “the catalog of mistakes” or even “the catalog,” all of our prior discussion of that issue came into both our minds immediately. It also served as a reminder of our rapport and the importance I placed on his perspective.

Jae Won’s therapist - medication management

There’s one other area of Jae Won’s interactions with his therapist that is a bit hard to interpret. The exchange he has with his therapist about the amount of medication she’ll prescribe to him certainly seems important, but it’s hard to tell what exactly it means.

One thing that complicates this is the fact that he is receiving therapy and medication management services from the same provider. In other words, she seems to be a psychiatrist who provides therapy services. In most parts of the United States, this is rare (though that wasn’t always the case). I haven’t been able to tell whether this is more commonplace in South Korea.

Because she’s a prescriber and a therapist, asking for three weeks’ worth of medication instead of two also means waiting longer before having another therapy session. Maybe Jae Won really is just busy and trying to cut down on demands on his time, but this doesn’t seem too likely. It’s also possible that he’s seeking a greater quantity of his medication for some purpose, such as abusing it or using it for self-harm or to end his life. But he also could just be trying to put off his next therapy session to a later date because of his difficulty talking about vulnerable topics, something he demonstrates at multiple points in his therapy session. Similarly, when his therapist says she can extend his prescription to three weeks but not a month, because, as she puts it, “I need to do my job,” this could be in reference to the medication or her therapy work. Part of her job is keeping him from having access to too large an amount of medication at once, while another part is having therapy sessions with him (that are frequent enough to be useful). It’s hard to tell which of the two she was referring to, or whether it could be something else entirely. So I don’t think there’s one clearly correct interpretation here. But I do think we should be attentive to the possibility that he might be medication-seeking, possibly with the aim of using the medication for self-harm.

Human beings’ amazing capacity for self-blame

Even if you have experienced trauma or have been close to someone who has, unless you’ve spent time with a sizable sample of trauma survivors, it’s hard to understand just how readily people blame themselves for traumatic experiences. I had had personal experience with this as a survivor of intimate partner violence before I ever did any training in trauma therapy, but I was still totally floored when I observed firsthand just how often this happens and how unjustifiable every single instance of self-blame I encountered in clients turned out to be.

This is actually a big area for me as a researcher so I’m going to try not to go off on a massive tangent, but I think this is important. When we experience trauma, one of the most frequent responses people have is to blame themselves. I used to describe this to clients as a “deal with the devil.” Blaming ourselves allows us to feel like we have control over whether such things will happen to us (and/or those we care about) in the future. If we tell ourselves, “the trauma only happened to me because I did something bad, or something wrong,” then we can also tell ourselves, “but I’ll never do the bad or wrong thing again so from now on I’ll be safe.”

It’s very tempting to make this bargain, but it is an extremely bad deal. Self-blame is one of the biggest reasons some people get stuck in their acute trauma response instead of completing the healing process, resulting in PTSD. That feeling of control isn’t worth that. But human beings are so tempted to make this trade. When I was doing trauma therapy as a trainee, I saw example after example of folks who did seriously remarkable amounts of mental gymnastics in order to justify blaming themselves for their trauma.  I’m going to talk briefly now about a client I had many years ago, without giving any details that could be remotely identifying. This person had witnessed the death of a close friend when they were in combat together. I did prolonged exposure therapy with this person, meaning he had to tell me the story of his friend’s death again and again and again. When we do this type of work, it usually seems at first like the client is telling the exact same story again and again without any real change. But little changes crop up gradually and accumulate and after a while, you find the story has made big shifts. And occasionally, a big change happens.

This client started out telling his story in a way that looked for every possible reason his friend’s death could have been his fault. And wow, was he ever grasping at straws. It was almost as if he had said something as nonsensical as “I had oatmeal for breakfast that day and maybe that’s why my friend died.” Every miniscule decision he had made that day could, in his eyes, potentially have caused his friend’s death in some mysterious and imperceptible way. It would have been absurd had it not been so sad. But thankfully, as we continued the exposure work, his story gradually changed and these justifications for self-blame started to fall away a little at a time.

Then, one day, a crucial detail was added to the story that blew me away. After weeks of telling the story in the usual way, my client mentioned for the first time that just before his friend was hit, he had called out a warning to him, which the friend had ignored. He’d mentioned countless ways he might be to blame--none of them remotely justified--but had never told me about the one very clear way in which he had tried to prevent his friend’s death. When I pointed this out, my client was shocked that he had never mentioned that detail before. We spent a lot of time unpacking what all of this meant. It was the single biggest turning point in his therapy. So, yeah. People have an amazing capacity for figuring out even the slimmest of pretexts for self-blame, and it’s abundantly clear that Jae Won is exercising that capacity big time. I’m pretty certain we’ll find out that he has been blaming himself a lot for what happened while having no real justification for doing so.

(Side note: I have tons more thoughts about trauma, self-blame, victim-blaming more generally, and other related psychological constructs--these are all longstanding research interests of mine--but I’m going to stop here because this thing is already ridiculously long. But if anyone reading this ever wants to discuss any of this further, please feel free to hit me up! I love talking about these things.)

Interpreting show production choices psychologically

Let’s review where we find Jae Won toward the beginning of the show. I’ve talked about how Jae Won had a lot of psychological difficulties before the story started. His family of origin situation was damaging even before he lost his brother, and then he had to contend with trauma and complicated grief. After that, he went through a breakup (possibly due to his partner cheating on him), completed his military service, and then had to make the transition back to civilian life, which isn’t easy under the best of circumstances.

And then he meets Ji Hyun, and his feelings for him unsettle the precarious set of strategies that he’s been using to get by. Ji Hyun makes Jae Won feel tempted to let his guard down and be himself. He places a degree of trust in Jae Won that challenges his cynicism and makes him feel tempted to trust Ji Hyun in return--to trust him to an extent that would normally be out of the question for him. Ji Hyun shakes things up, and while this is mostly a very positive thing--there are a lot of things in Jae Won’s life that urgently need to change--it’s also rather destabilizing in the short term. 

Then the shit starts to hit the fan when Jae Won wakes up after staying out late drinking to hear his father pounding on his door. And the makers of the show start to play around with cinematography, editing, sound design, and other aspects of the show’s production to evoke Jae Won’s inner experience. After his dad pounds on his door, the way the show is shot and edited changes.

This disjointed editing and other distortions of typical filmmaking at this point in episode 5 have reminded some folks on here of a dissociative state, and I can see why. I would agree that it has a dissociative flavor. There are two prominent types of dissociation (which can happen simultaneously):

derealization, a feeling that the world around us isn’t real--it may feel empty, strange, or just plain wrong; and

depersonalization, in which we feel like we’re seeing ourselves from the outside, as if the person we’re observing isn’t us.

It’s tricky to talk about either of these in the context of tv/film because as viewers watching a fictional story unfold in a TV show, we are by definition:

perceiving that the world the characters inhabit doesn’t seem real, because it isn’t

looking at the characters from the outside, because they aren’t us (and they aren’t real)

But there are conventions of film and tv production that give us a sense of realism and of seeing things from characters’ points of view, and when Jae Won is dissociating we see those conventions get suspended or distorted. For example:

Conventional editing creates a flow of time that feels realistic (partly because we learn the “language” of film from a young age and interpret it that way). At important moments in The Eighth Sense, the editing breaks the rules of conventional editing, often messing with the viewers’ sense of time. Contexts change abruptly, as when Jae Won suddenly goes from being at home to being in his car. At other points, dialogue also goes out of sync.

Shot-reverse shot techniques help to approximate seeing things from the characters’ perspectives, situating us in the story so that we don’t feel like we’re observing from a distance. The most notable moment when this rule is broken happens when Jae Won is upset about his camera being damaged. We see him telling someone between sobs that the camera was a gift from his younger brother, but that person (assumably his dad) isn’t shown at all--not even a shoulder or the back of a head.

There’s also a lot of use of shallow depth of field (something the show uses in other ways as well), putting Jae Won in focus while his surroundings become a blur, making the world around him look hazy and unreal.

The sequence where Ji Hyun and Jae Won kiss in the ocean puts their dialogue way out of sync. On my first viewing, this just seemed like an interesting choice, one that gave the scene a sort of dreamlike quality. I’ve seen this strategy used before, as well, without any reference to mental illness, usually in art films. The first example that came to mind for me was from a Godard movie. It would be a valid option regardless of mental health-related content in a show. But after what immediately follows, I think that scene is portraying a trauma memory. Sometimes benign events that happened just before something traumatic become encoded with trauma memories rather than our usual type. (To put it briefly, trauma memories are encoded and stored in a different part of the brain from our everyday memories, and this is why they “behave” differently and have a different sensory quality from typical memories. Trauma recovery often involves some degree of re-encoding these memories in a more normal manner.)

Basically, the show sometimes puts the viewer into an approximation of a derealized and depersonalized state, particularly relative to what we’re used to as TV watchers. At other points, it shows characters’ experiences as if they were traumatic memories.

Are the creators of The Eighth Sense going to pull a “who shot JR?” move?

All this being said, I think that Jae Won’s dissociative moments, while very concerning and doubtless extremely distressing for him, do not point toward any sort of severe dissociative disorder like Dissociative Identity Disorder, nor do they make me concerned that his reality-testing (his ability to effectively distinguish what is and isn’t real) is impaired. I also don’t see any signs of cognitive impairment that would create a similar degree of confusion about reality. As a result, I don’t think the show’s use of signs of dissociation suggests that entire sections of the story will later be shown not to have happened.

Here’s the thing about dissociation. On paper, it sounds like an extreme symptom that approaches the kind of severe mental illness that includes symptoms like hallucinations and delusions. But the vast majority of the time, it’s very different from psychosis. And it’s also, in my opinion, more of a spectrum than we care to acknowledge most of the time. When we look at it that way, we can see that in a sense, Jae Won is at least a tiny bit dissociated a whole lot of the time. But frankly, so am I. It’s not uncommon for trauma survivors. It’s very different from something that would result in impaired reality-testing.

It’s possible that the show will end up revealing that Jae Won’s mental illness has resulted in him imagining entire segments of the show. These types of symptoms are often portrayed in media, for a couple of reasons: 1) people just find psychosis fascinating, and 2) these types of symptoms are very handy for creating plot twists and other interesting narrative devices. It’s not hard to think of examples of this. Fight Club, Black Swan, Shutter Island...the list goes on and on. But these portrayals are almost always inaccurate and exploitative. So far, the folks who make The Eighth Sense have shown a great deal of nuanced awareness of and sensitivity toward mental health matters, so I don’t think they would use this kind of cheap plot device. But they might. If so, I’ll find that pretty disappointing.

There is one thing the showrunners are doing that is somewhat sneaky in a way that’s could look analogous to that. Others have pointed out that Jae Won and his therapist are wearing the same clothes in every therapy scene, suggesting that we’re seeing the same therapy session interspersed with the other events of the series. In other words, the therapy session operates on a very different timeline from the rest of the story. We don’t know where to situate it relative to the rest of the plot. But I don’t see that as tied to the show’s portrayal of Jae Won’s mental health, nor does it seem exploitative or out of left field.

To sum up:

So far, The Eighth Sense has been remarkably accurate regarding psychological matters and has portrayed therapy and the use of psychotropic medication in a mostly positive and realistic light. I get the feeling the writers/directors/etc. have had some experience receiving mental health treatment. I really hope they maintain this level of quality throughout the remainder of the series.

I don’t think Jae Won’s PTSD (or his depression/anxiety) are sufficient for him to experience psychosis. I don’t expect entire segments of the show will be revealed to be an elaborate lie or hallucination, and if they are, I would consider that to be an example of poor writing and an unrealistic and potentially harmful representation of mental illness.

#The Eighth Sense #psychology of BL #trauma #self-blame #dissociation #media portrayals of mental illness #media portrayals of psychotherapy #media portrayals of trauma #jae won x ji hyun

[sirenjose]

Predictions for The Voyage of Oceanus

(I made guesses last year for the Zinaida event and managed to correctly guess Andrew was the culprit/killer before it was revealed, so I wanted to try to do that again this year before we got too much info or any answers)

Main Predictions

Frederick is the antagonist (as in he will be the cause of the events that occur during this event or at least a contributor to some degree)

The jellyfish toxins will be the cause of everyone going crazy/behaving abnormally and whatever hallucinations they see (ex: my guess is it is the reason behind Alice's behavior and what she said she saw to Inference)

Charles will be involved in whatever incident Inference has to solve but won't be the actual true culprit (this is a guess based on Charles' backstory, as his actions indirectly lead to the (accidental) death of his friend. As it was indirect, that's why I guess in this event Charles will either be falsely suspected to be the culprit or may play a minor role in what happens but he won't do anything super bad, at least on purpose)

Violeta may seem dead but may not actually be truly dead (based on how she likely survives in canon after Joker leaves her to die in the snow, and how I wonder if she'll be involved in the "guest performance" referenced in Mike's 3rd letter)

Side Notes/Predictions

That agreement Branley had many of the personnel aboard the ship on his voyage sign is suspicious, the same one that Mr. Worthington didn't have to sign as he wasn't part of the "core personnel". Secretive agreements usually imply something up. "Trying to hide their research discoveries" feels like whatever they found out could be important, and the crew 25 years later will likely discover whatever it was considering Inference makes a comment about doing so during the event. Not sure yet about this, just wanted to call out it's suspicious and stood out to me.

Speaking of suspicious, there's also that letter from whoever provided Inference with his disguise. No idea who this is. I did try to think about who it could be, but many of my guesses didn't feel quite right (I wondered about Wu Chang, but we know nothing about him or why he'd help. There's Paranormal Detective, but he wouldn't do something like this. There's Fiona, who does do disguises, but I'm not quite sure. There's White, but like Paranormal Detective, as Inference knows him, I doubt he'd do something in this fashion. My big random guess is DM, even if just because he'd get a laugh out of making Inference dress in the type of outfit Inference detests. That and DM seems to be the reason Inference gets involved in a lot of the cases we see during these anniversary events. So yea, he's so far my first guess, but who knows.)

Frederick was the "benefactor" to spend a "huge amount of money" building this copycat ship and getting all the exact details, down to the roles people play, as similar as possible. So with how long he spent to prepare this, it contributes to the idea that Frederick could be behind whatever incident occurs during this event aboard the ship.

I don't quite know why, but for some reason Keigan mentioning the "blue jellyfish pendant" stood out a lot to me. (Honestly I at first didn't really read everything, but I paused after seeing that mentioned). Not quite sure why, but reading it made me wonder if whatever this was would be important, or if it appearing or disappearing would be important for this event. I actually reread everything after that, which was when I realized it belonged to this "Professor Schelling". It was only then that I made the connection "Hey, Frederick's S-tier has blue jellyfish themes all over his outfit". Maybe if Frederick was tied to this Schelling person, that could explain why he'd put so much effort into recreating this ship and voyage. Then from there, I noticed it mentions Schelling's "acedemic achievements" weren't "directly inherited", with his children being "too young" to learn anything of "scientific value". Not "directly inherited" makes me think of Frederick in canon who didn't inherit his family's musical talent. And I had to reread the children bit twice to realize it's not saying he didn't have children. He did, they were just too young. So his children were the ones that didn't "inherit" that stuff from the previous line. Ergo, Frederick might be the kid of this Professor Schelling. So even if he wasn't very knowledgeable about science initially, considering the science books in his room, it seems he might've tried to fix that, potentially similar to Frederick trying to be a famous musician despite not having the same musical skills as his family. If Frederick is recreating what happened 25 years ago, and his father was involved, maybe he's trying to prove he is just as good as his father? I'm also thinking of parallels to Frederick in canon and why he's going after the Blue Hope gem...

Similar to how I wonder if Orpheus drugs the participants by including it in their meals, I wonder if the jellyfish toxins will poison people by being included in people's meals. Frederick did mention it can affect people if ingested. That would potentially mean Demi might be working with Frederick, since she prepares people's foods. Considering how Demi seems to be working with the manor owner and her roles in other events, this wouldn't surprise me too much. Her name is "Siren" after all, so this sort of role, especially if she's giving people toxins that could cause hallucinations like a siren's song might, seems fitting for her codename.

The mention of electromagnetic fields reminds me of some of the research/theories I wrote regarding Jose, as I remember discussing how electromagnetic fields, like what is mentioned in Wu Chang's letters regarding events during Jose's game, can affect compasses, which can lead to people getting lost, which I remember due to my research regarding Jose's Bobolink skin (bobolinks are birds that can navigate via electromagnetic fields, and will fly in the wrong direction due to mesing with those fields). I remember the event mentioned Inference's clock being frozen at 6:30. I wonder if this'll be important somehow. (I also just find all the potential connections to stuff I did for Jose funny and had to call it out. Works out I already did all this research so I know about some of this already ^_^')

#idv #identity v #Truth & Inference #T&I #Mr. Inference #Naib #Mercenary #inference #idv mr. inference #idv inference #idv naib #idv mercenary #idv T&I #idv truth & inference #identity v mr. inference #identity v inference #identity v naib #identity v mercenary #identity v T&I #identity v truth & inference #sirenjose analyses and theories

[zeivira]

How do you think Emilia and the others would react to the concept of dreaming in No Rest for the Wicked?

“If I’m honest— sleeping isn’t even that bad,” Subaru starts, rubbing his eyes. He woke up an hour ago, but he still feels pretty sleepy— and how could he not, when Otto decided that the first thing he needed to do in the morning was discuss taxes with him? “You get to dream every night, which is pretty cool if you ask me.”

Subaru lets himself sink deeper into Emilia’s office couch. He loves it when she lets him watch her work.

He doesn’t usually like talking about sleeping much, not after all the trouble it already gave him— but today he dreamed he had momentarily traveled back in time to when he was eight years old, and was able to hug his parents one more time. Waking up hadn’t left him fatigued, on the contrary, it left him much better rested than usual. At least until Otto decided to be a pest, of course.

“Dreams?” Emilia raises her gaze from the papers in her desk and tilts her head to the side. “What are dreams?”

“Dreams are, uh…” He blinks. How could one describe dreaming? “It’s like traveling to another world—” no, that doesn't sound right, “—except the world doesn’t really exist ‘cus it’s merely a product of your imagination.” He crosses his arms. Did that even make sense? “Do you not do something like that when you are unconscious?”

People from Lugunica can still faint from blood-loss or other wounds. They surely had to dream then, right?

“You travel to another world when you sleep?”

Ok, maybe that was too much. Subaru blushes at the wonder marrying her voice. “Well, not literally. They are just a series of thoughts, images, and sensations occurring in a person's mind during sleep.”

“Natsuki-san, are you implying that when you sleep you… hallucinate?” The reason for his current nightmares —Otto— opens the door of Emilia’s office with a sack of papers in his hands and turns to stare at him.

Subaru pauses and rubs his chin, deep in thought. Can dreams be considered hallucinations?

“Hallucinations?” Emilia repeats, voice distant.

Otto sighs. “Indeed, when people are in agony, they sometimes see things that aren't there."

Subaru starts laughing, then stops when he realizes what Otto actually meant. “Wait— what?” Oh cmon, this can’t happen again.  “I already said I'm not in pain when I sleep.”

“You say many things,” Otto glares. “But Lady Beatrice said you often squirm or wake up crying.”

Emilia gasps.

“You know that?!” Subaru stands up, then raises his hand to hold his head at the whiplash from changing positions so quickly. His own words finally sink in as his eyes widen. “I mean— I absolutely do not do that.”

Otto squints at him. He hadn’t missed his slight headache. “You should have told the healer about the hallucinations when he visited last week, Natuki-san.”

“They aren’t hallucinations.” Subaru blinks.

“Your description sure matched them. What is the difference between hallucinations and dreams, then?”

Emilia interrupts. “Are dreams another symptom of Subaru’s Partial Sleeping Beauty, then? Should we make sure he doesn’t dream?”

Otto shakes his head. “The only way to make him stop dreaming would be to make him stop sleeping, and the doctor said we shouldn't.”

“But that’s…”

“Time out!” Subaru raises his arms, crosses them and forms a stop sign. “The squirming is completely unrelated to the dreaming. I like dreaming, It’s relaxing.” Unless he is having a nightmare, he knows better than to address that topic.

Emilia’s purple eyes fill with tears. “Is your condition so bad that you prefer spending so many hours in a fake world rather than real life?”

What the fuck.

“No, absolutely not! I love real life is just—” Subaru groans.

He should have learnt to shut up by now.

(Some hours later:

“I wonder if Heinkel-san’s wife dreams,” Emilia says during dinner, after calming down. “If she has to sleep for so many years, it would be nice if she were to hallucinate that she is in a world in which her family is safe and sound.”)

#Sorry for mid quality writing #Wrote this while debbuging #no rest for the wicked #re zero #re: zero #rezero #I dunno why otto is here #I dont even like otto #Blame the others tumblarinas for that #Also i sent this to marquess first and asked her if there was any grammar mistake #She is the MVP even with Tumblr asks #Op you probably wanted a list but you get a scene because why not #UwU #Hope you like Anon!

[junikicker]

Under Her Spell Part 2 - Lady Bellaston x fem!reader

Under Her Spell - Lady Bellaston x fem!reader

warnings: mention of scars, abuse, surgery, soft and caring Lady B (?), smut

word count: 3.4k

note: you wanted part two, I give you part two

You weren’t sure if it had been the right decision to meet up with Lady Bellaston, but now that you had given her the note and were walking back towards your London home, you found yourself smiling at the thought of seeing her again.

“I take it your meeting with Miss Western went well?” Your father asked as you came into his office, announcing your return. He was a tall, thin man of forty years. Pale skin, bright eyes and dark hair that matched the color of his beard.

“Quite the opposite. I fear, father.” You replied, standing straight. “As it turns out, lovely Lady Bellaston does not see me marrying her niece.” You spoke, only revealing part the truth. “I see. Well, so shall be it. But perhaps I could pay her a visit. We are old friends after all.” He spoke, getting back to writing a letter.

“I doubt that will be of any significance on the case. She seemed quite passionate about her decision.” You said calmly, trying to hold back a smile that was threatening to make its way to your face.

“Maybe look forward to the masquerade ball then. Half of England’s most significant women will be there. You shall try talk to someone suitable there then. “Your father spoke, eyes trained on the parchment in front of him.

“Why not marry out of love? Why shall I marry for status?” You asked him and his eyes shot up from the paper as he dropped the quill in his left hand.

“Marry out of love?” He asked you, looking at you as if you were hallucinating. “Marriage for love is not something we do in this family. It might come as a lovely by-product, but it sure is not necessary for marriage. I did love your mother. Very deeply. But we, too, were set up by my father. As were him and my mother and so on.” He explained, getting up, and smoothing out his clothes. “I do understand that you want to marry for love. All the young people do today. But, and I hate to tell you this, given our status among our people, we simply cannot risk losing our influence. I am Viscount after all. Someday, you will take my place, son. And shall produce an heir.” These words cut deep. They always did. When he called you son.

“Father, you and I both know that is-” You started but he cut you off. “Impossible? You could not be further from the truth. I have been in contact with your uncle and discussed the matter with him. Your cousin would be thrilled to help out. His mother is your mother’s sister after all.” He proposed, stroking his beard.

Right. Aaron. Always in the right place at the right time. He sure was loyal to the family. Three years younger than you and yet to be wed. It occurred to you that it had been only a matter of time for your father to reach out to him. “We do look quite alike, do we not?” I suppose this is the best we can do.” You agreed, knowing that you would not be able to change his mind, even if you tried to.

You stood in front of the mirror in your room. Shirtless, as you looked at your scars. Your whole torso was covered in them. So many that sometimes you liked to think that the ones on your chest from four years ago would go unnoticed if you didn’t know what they had come from.

When it came to hiding your gender, your father hadn’t spared no expanse or effort. He had a doctor from France come to your home and perform surgery on you in an attempt to make your chest appear smaller.

The rest of the scars had mostly been from prior to that surgery. Scars from your childhood when you went hunting or horseback riding. A large number of scars remained from a day when you were playing in the forest with your cousin and fell into a bush of roses, the thorns cutting deep wounds into your flesh. Another one had come from the attack of a dog that you got involved in after unlawfully setting foot on another person's property. And lastly, there was a scar that went from your right shoulder to your left hip bone. However, this was one of the scars that you remembered fondly.

You had been playing with a friend of yours when you were fifteen. You had nicked swords from your father and started fighting each other for fun. One thing led to another and he accidentally hit you harder than you intended to.

You sighed and grabbed your shirt from your bed. It was almost time for you to leave. You would need a good forty minutes to your destination if you wanted to go unnoticed by people.

You had decided it would be best to go unnoticed in simple colors, black and dark blue were the colors of your family, so you deemed them appropriate. These were colors that were used among people all over the city, you would blend in with them nicely.

“Father, I am leaving. I will spend the night at Charles’.” You said upon your departure as you stopped by at your father’s office. “Alright then. I shall see you tomorrow afternoon.” He replied, not bothering to look up from his desk to look at you.

And with that, you went. You made sure to grab a hat on your way out, a way of disguising yourself a bit more. You walked until you were somewhat close to St. James’s Park, deeming it safe enough to enter a carriage without much fuss.

“Champagne Lane.” You said, getting in and the coachman nodded. Within twenty minutes you had reached Champagne Lane. You paid the coachman and then left for your destination.

You hid in an alley and watched the coaches, watching who stepped out of them. After a few minutes, you were unsure if she would even come. You looked at your pocket watch and time seemed to only go by slower. One minute more. And as if perfectly planned. As the clock stroke eight, a carriage appeared. Lady Bellaston stepped out and paid the coachman just as you had about fifteen minutes before.

The carriage left and she looked around, looking for something, probably you. You stepped out from the shadows of the alley, walking towards her. She seemed to notice and flashed you a small smile.

“Lady Bellaston. A pleasure to see you again.” You said as you reached her, you bowed down a bit in front of her. “The pleasure is all mine, Huntington.” She replied and you held out your hand for her to take. “Shall we?” You asked, she nodded. “I hope you are not here to abduct me.” She joked with a smile. “I shall never. But maybe you decide to stay yourself after all.” You joked back as you walked up the stairs of a house.

It wasn’t a big place. It was a small, cozy getaway that you had managed to buy yourself without your father noticing. It was nice to have your own place after all.

“After you.” You said, opening the door, stepping aside to let her enter first.

“Let me take that for you.” You offered, taking her jacket off for her. “This is not what I imagined your place to be like. I’ve known your father’s residence after all.” She said, looking around. “My father does not know about this place. This is my personal getaway. My quiet place.” You replied, leaving your own jacket on the rack at the door that you had made yourself.

“Shall I make us some tea?” You asked her as you lead her into the living area that technically was the same room the kitchen was in. “I doubt we will be able to finish it. Such a waste.” She said, hinting at the true reason you both were there.

“I do agree.” You said, sitting down next to her. “Shall I show you the bedroom?” You asked her and she nodded. You stood back up and held out a hand.

You lead her upstairs to the bedroom. You liked how the place was divided into living and sleeping areas. The bedroom was big, arguably one of the biggest rooms in the place. “Welcome, please, do enter.” You smiled, opening the door.

“I’ve heard Tom Jones is in the city. Has he paid visit yet?” You asked, trying to fill the silence that made the room seem a bit empty.

“I doubt that is any of your interest.” She said, turning to face you and stepping toward you. “Seeing as you are here...” She places a finger on your chest. “With me...” She undid the first button of your coat. “Doing things...” The coat went to the floor. “That we both know we shouldn’t.” She finished and placed her lips on yours. Her touch was sending chills down your spine.

As her tongue invaded your mouth, you felt her perfume fill your nostrils. The world seemed to disappear around the two of you, the only thing existing were your bodies.

“I shall free you of your restraints.” You breathed against her neck, hands on her hips as you spun her around. You gently undid the strings on her back and the dress pooled down to the floor. She seemed to have gone for a simpler choice of clothes, as did you. Her hair wasn’t up in the way it had been when you last saw her and there were no feathers gracing her head. Never the less, she hadn’t skipped on the corset underneath the dress.

Just as you went to undo them, she spun back around and crashed her lips to yours in a heated kiss. Her hands were fumbling with your waistcoat as she tried to undo them during the kiss. Shortly after, she got frustrated and instead harshly pulled it open, sending some of the buttons flying across the room. Her hands immediately grabbed onto the fabric of your linen shirt, tearing at it, wanting it to come off as soon as possible.

Lips still attached, you lead the two of you towards your bed, showing her down onto the mattress, a parallel to your first meet. As you now towered over her, you decided that it was time to discard your shirt. In one swift movement, you lifted the piece of fabric over your head and sent it to the floor.

Lady Bellaston’s face seemed to get a bit pale at the sight of your torso. For a second you had forgotten about your scars.

She sat up and carefully placed a hand on your stomach, letting it travel over your skin, circling every other scar. “Who did this?” She asked you, looking at you, never seeming to break the eye contact.

“Mostly, I did. I tend to be an unhandy person.” You said. “This was your work too then?” She asked, tracing the biggest scar. “Partially my fault.” You admitted, growing nervous as she was close to the scars on your chest that you hoped she wouldn’t ask about.

Instead of asking more questions, something you did think she would, she leaned forward and placed a kiss on the scar. “I must say, I find these quite arousing.” She admitted and you smiled, leaning down and pressing another kiss to her lips. “Oh, do you now, my lady?” You asked teasingly, relieved that she was more than okay with your scars.

You freed her of her corset, not breaking the kiss. Just as you expected, she relaxed into the comfort of the loss of restriction when you lifted the corset over her head. It was only now that you noticed the heart-shaped mark on the top of her left breast, so drunk on her body you hadn’t noticed it at first. You gently traced a finger over it. “As much as I appreciate you worshiping me, I am longing for you to work that witchcraft on me again.” She breathed as you climbed on top of her on the bed.

“Ah, yes. Witchcraft. How could I forget.” You apologized in a teasing manner, before wrapping your lips around her nipple, having her back arch into you only a second later and a loud moan escaping her lips. You hummed around her nipple, drawing life elixir from her moans, making goosebumps appear on her skin. “Is it that sort of witchcraft you were thinking about?” You asked her teasingly and she nodded quickly.

Her sighs of pleasure make your stomach flip and you switch to her other breast, to give it the same attention before you continue your journey down her body. You kissed down her sternum, leaving a love bite right between her breasts for her to remember tonight by.

You kissed down the center of her stomach slowly, feeling her skin soft as silk on your lips. Her grip on your hair tightened and she let out a small sigh of realization when realized what you were heading for. You smiled against her skin. Somehow you were doing new things to her all the time.

You hooked your fingers into her underwear and seductively slid them down her legs, letting her kick them off as you shifted up to kiss her again. You slowly cupped her center, pulling away to see her reaction. Lady Bellaston gasped softly and her hips twitched to add pleasure. “If you were a witcher, it would be just reasonable.” She breathed, smirking at you. You kissed her cheek before whispering “Let me know if you want me to stop, my lady.” And she nodded, biting her bottom lip.

You rubbed her center up and down slowly, taking notice of how drenched she was already as you watched her sigh and gasp before you started rubbing tight circles onto her bundle of nerves. A low moan escaped her mouth and you smirked again, kissing down her body, settling yourself between her legs. You grabbed her thighs and she momentarily grunted in protest at the loss of pressure, snapping her head up to glare at you. You quirked an eyebrow and threw her legs over your shoulders and her eyes rolled back at the sight, her fingers finding their way back into your hair. You weren’t sure if she was alright with you going down on her, but based on her reaction, you judged that she was more than alright with it.

You kissed up the inside of her thigh, skipping over where she wanted you most, fighting slightly against her grip on your hair, to kiss down her other thigh. You made your way back to her center after leaving another love bite on the inside of her thigh before placing a kiss against her core. Her hips twitched, so you grabbed them to keep them in place. One of her hands shot up to cover her eyes, lip between her teeth in pleasure as you slowly flattened your tongue against her. You had spread your fingers out across her stomach in an attempt to keep her in place and moved the other hand to tease her entrance while taking her bundle of nerves into your mouth, softly sucking.

Lady Bellaston moaned out a “Dear Lord” as you sunk one finger into her heat, loving the lewd noises coming out of her mouth. You established a slow rhythm with one finger before adding another, her mouth releasing a raspy moan as she adjusted. You lightly bit at her clit, soft curses leaving the woman’s mouth as a result. You quickened your pace before she could ask and her gasps sent wetness to your center. You curled your fingers and sucked harshly on her clit simultaneously and her grip on your hair tightened almost painfully but you could not have cared less about pleasuring the beautiful woman beneath you.

You moved your fingers in a come hither motion and felt her heels dig into your back, the pleasure overtaking her body. Her free hand grabbed at the sheets, her head pressed back into one of the pillows on the bed, her back arching and you momentarily took a mental image of her body opening up so beautifully for you. She was absolutely gorgeous.

With a few more quick curls of your fingers and twirls of your tongue on her clit, she unraveled before you, a long, loud moan leaving her lips along with the name of the Lord and a string of curses. You slowly continued your movements with your fingers, letting her ride out her ecstasy before cleaning her up with your mouth and kissing back up her body. You took your time trying to kiss every inch of her body you could find, feeling her breathing calm down.

You slowly made your way up her neck and to her lips, slowly connecting them in a passionate kiss, her arms wrapping delicately around your head and neck. You felt her hips shift on your thigh now that it was between her legs.

“Are you alright, my lady?” You asked, searching her eyes. “Ecstatic.” She replied, still searching her breath, eyes only half open. “My turn now.” She said and easily flipped you over.

“Wait.” You said, fear rushing through your body. “I need to tell you something.” You said, holding onto her hand on your chest, close to the scars from your surgery. She tried to find your eyes but needed to lift your chin in order to do so. “You may leave after I tell you, but this is central if you want to continue.” You said, looking down again.

You gently took both her hands into yours as you sat up in bed, placing each thumb onto one surgery scar. “I might be an unhandy person, but for these… it takes precision.” You started and a confused frown appeared on her face. “My father wanted a male heir. Then, when I was born, my mother died...” You explained and her expression softened. “And then there was this little girl. So confused in this new world, no mother. And then my father decided...” You took in a deep breath. “That he shall raise this little girl as his son and make her his heir?” She finished your sentence and wiped a tear off your cheek.

You just met her eyes, hoping it would be enough of a response for her. “After all this time?” She asked, a sad expression on her face. “Always.” You breathed. She gently got a hold of your neck and pulled you forward so your head could rest on her nude shoulder.

“What is your name?” She asked you once you had straightened up again. Your lips quivered. No one had ever asked you that question. “Y/n.” You replied, another tear rolling down your cheek. “After-” You started but she cut you off. “Your mother.” Lady Bellaston finished your sentence.

“Do you want to leave?” You asked her, wanting to give her the chance to escape if she wanted. “Do you need me to?” She asked in return, looking at you lovingly. “I suppose not.” You replied and she smiled.

“Did I ruin the mood?” You asked, feeling a bit guilty. “Somewhat.” She chuckled as she laid down on the bed, showing off her gorgeous body. “But it does not matter.” She patted the space next to her and you laid down, facing her. There was a comfortable silence for a few moments as you just looked at each other. There truly was something about the art of eye-contact.

“Stay the night.” You said. “I told Father that I won’t be home until tomorrow afternoon. Just the two of us. Maybe I shall teach you some of that witchcraft.” You smirked at the last part and she smiled. “That sounds delightful.” Lady Bellaston agreed and leaned in for a kiss. This one was soft. Not like the passionate, lustful, heated ones you had shared with her before but more loving and caring.

As she was lying on your chest that night, arms draped over your body, you couldn’t help but feel some sense of irony. When you held her, you were the one who felt safe. Who would have though that Lady Bellaston actually had a soft side to her.

#gxg #wlw #fem!reader #sapphic #rebecca welton #rebecca welton x reader #hannah waddingham #lady bellaston #lady bellaston x reader #tom jones pbs #ted lasso