#i'm looking in the most sinful and disrespectful ways

[thetrolltolls]

dee in the gang gets new wheels

#😍😳🤩🤩🤩❤️‍🔥💖💕💖💞💓💗💓 #DEEEEEEEEEE #SHE EATS BOX!!!!!! #THIS LOOK WAS UNREAL AND FOR WHAT!!!!!!! #For my viewing pleasure i guess! #i'm looking in the most sinful and disrespectful ways #as if the outfit wasn't enough then she SITS LIKE THAT....... COME ON #posting this first thing this morning Good morning people #dee reynolds #the gang gets new wheels #mac mcdonald #frank reynolds #charlie kelly #it's always sunny in philadelphia #iasip

[gojorgeous]

"creature of myth."

pairing: vampire!gojo x fem!human!reader summary: when you receive an offer of marriage from a mysterious wealthy lord, it’s too good a deal for your family to turn down. but nothing could be so perfect... right? content: MDNI (18+  ONLY), dark content, nsfw, gets dubcon/noncon in some spots, yandere behavior from gojo, implied death/k*lling of a character (not reader or gojo), arranged marriage, victorian au, plot that ends with porn lmao, spooky dooky vibes, blood, blood sucking/eating, praise, biting, unprotected sex, creampie, virgin!reader, discussion of virginity, cherry popping, pain, pet names (princess/love), reader is highkey clueless about sex, discussion of masturbation, ideas of masturbation as “sinful”, very minor religious themes, fated “mates”, gojo is highkey insane, coercion and manipulation, like SO much neck kissing, ooc gojo??? (had to alter his character to match a victorian vampire lord LMAO). a/n: PLEASE READ THE CONTENT WARNINGS. THERE IS DARK CONTENT AHEAD. is this a gojo fic or a twilight fic?? Going back to my roots fr fr. straight down to the “SAY IT, SAY IT”. this fic is also way too long my apologies bbs. i hope you like a hefty side of plot with your porn. parts of this fic feel way too cheesy to me but sometimes i eat that up, yk?? this fic was inspired by this amazing work by @rice5x ! and, finally, thank you all for the support on my most recent fics. i'm just getting back into being active on this blog and it's been amazing reading each and every comment/reblog/ask. they genuinely fill me with so much joy. keep them coming hehe. anyway, i hope you enjoy and remember, ALL AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED. credits: dividers by @cafekitsune. banner art by @ndsoda on twitter. wc: 11.6k (sowwy)

You remember perfectly the way your mother’s jaw dropped when Satoru Gojo proposed to you. You’d never seen the man, and you still hadn’t. He’d asked to marry you via messenger, a simple letter delivered by hand with a list of all the things he’d be willing to pay for your hand. Offers of money, land, protection, connection- anything so long as he got you. You’d thought it was a joke. Your father nearly took a shovel to the head of the poor messenger, thinking the letter was some kind of cruel prank, some sort of targeted disrespect. You’d only started to believe when you really looked- saw the Gojo crest embroidered on the man’s suit, the fine leather of his boots. If it was a prank, somebody had spent a great deal of money and effort to pull it off. 

You’d asked for proof nonetheless, and you’d gotten it. Documents signed and sealed with a well-known waxen crest, gifts that could only have been purchased by a wealthy lord. The one thing you never got was the lord himself. He refused to see you, to come down from his mysterious castle on the hill. It didn’t surprise you. He rarely deemed town worthy of his presence. He had a reputation as a recluse, as a man who only ever liked to see and never be seen. What little glimpses people got of him were usually through the dark window of his carriage. Still, his appearance preceded him. White hair, light eyes… “haunting” said those who had the luck to see him. Those who went to work for the lord tended to return… changed— if they returned at all. 

You accepted, of course. How could you not? You were a peasant family with no status or wealth to your name. The promises Lord Gojo had made would make your parents into aristocrats all on their own. But that left you wondering… why did he want you? You offered him no benefit. If anything, you sullied his bloodline. The question scratched at the back of your mind. It came to you while you ate breakfast, while you washed your clothes, while you weeded in the garden. Some part of you told you that you needed the answer before you ever stepped foot in that castle. You needed that answer, but you’d never get it. 

Your wedding wasn’t even a wedding- just a piece of paper that had already been signed and witnessed, once again delivered by a familiar messenger. You signed at your dining room table and… that was that. You were married. 

Later that night the carriages arrive. Men flood your home, all dressed in blue velvet, the Gojo crest embroidered on their chests. They seem puzzled when you tell them you’ve packed all your belongings into a measly three bags. 

You say a quick goodbye to your parents, drawing them into stiff embraces. You love them, and they love you, but you can’t bear to see their faces as they send you away to a man who couldn’t even show his face for your wedding. 

The carriage ride is somehow longer than you’d thought it would be- apparently, the castle’s size makes it seem deceptively close. The trip is rocky and twisty and altogether unpleasant as you steadily make your way toward the castle gates. By the time you reach them you think you’ve probably dozed in and out of consciousness at least half a dozen times. 

The castle is even more intimidating up close. Spires that swirl into the clouds, sculptures that stare, doors that look more suited to being locked than opened. It’s… terrifying. 

When you finally roll to a stop, you move for the door. When you swing it open you get your fair share of strange looks from your attendants and remember that you should have waited for the footman. Your face heats as you climb out anyway, unwilling to subject yourself to the further humiliation of waiting for assistance. 

Your feet hit gravel and all you can do is stare- up, up, up, to where the castle’s peaks disappear into the fog. When your eye flashes to a window on the east side of the manor you think you see a swaying curtain. You tuck your arms around yourself and shiver, but it’s not from the cold. 

You nearly stumble over your feet on your first step inside. The entrance hall is larger than your former house, with ceilings that stretch so high you can hardly make out the figures on the frescoes that adorn it. Silver and blue drape everywhere, the Gojo family colors. You swallow when you see a chair that is most definitely worth more than your family’s annual income. 

The floors are marble and when your worn heels clack against it, you only feel reminded that you don’t belong here. That question pricks in your mind again as you pass portraits of every Gojo heir to have lived in the last three hundred years. Why me? Why me? Why me? 

Your footman deposits you in your room, a place more lavish than you’ve ever seen. You have a four poster bed with a canopy of blue velvet, a window that overlooks a sprawling estate, and more square footage than you’ve ever dreamed of. 

“Pull this if you need any sort of assistance, ma’am.” 

You turn to see your footman referencing a silver cord at your bedside. You assume it’s one of those contraptions that rings a bell in the servants’ quarters. You try to hide your amazement- you’ve never seen one in real life before. 

You clear your throat and give your most ladylike nod. “Thank you, um-” you pause, your brow furrowing. “I’m sorry, I don’t think I asked your name.” 

Your footman appears stunned to silence, like he’d never expected you to care about his existence, much less his name. He recovers quickly, though, and forces a small smile. “Thomas, ma’am.”

You smile and it’s genuine. “Thank you, Thomas.”He bows and makes a beeline for the door, but you have one more question. “Oh, um, Thomas-” He freezes, turning slowly on his heel to face you. 

“Yes, my lady?” 

You cringe at the title. The sound of it creeps across your skin, foreign and… wrong. Why me? Why me? Why me?

You clear your throat again. “Do you know, um, well-” You shift, trying to word your question properly. “Do you know when I might see the Lord?” 

There is a pause, a moment of tension and silence, and then an answer. “No, my lady.”

Thomas does not stick around for more questioning. The door clicks shut behind him and then you're left with only the sound of retreating footsteps. 

You’re stunned to say the least, mouth still halfway open, more questions on the tip of your tongue. Should you seek him out? Was that proper? Would he come to you? Would he meet you for dinner, perhaps? Surely he would come to your room tonight to… consummate. Would that be the first time you lay eyes on him? When he’s over you? 

You sigh. There’s nothing much to be done about it now. You find your way to the bed and sit down hesitantly. It feels like a crime to rumple such primped and polished cotton. You do it anyway- it’s going to happen sometime, right? You fall back against the mattress and don’t fail to notice how utterly comfortable it is. The silvery patterns on your canopy swirl and bend together. You’re tired. You didn’t sleep much last night, anxious for the morning… and it’s only mid-afternoon now. You had time for a nap, right? Your eyes are closing before you can convince yourself it’s a bad idea and then you’re swept away into a world of warm darkness. 

You wake with a start. Your first thought is that it’s dark now. Your room is pitch black except for the stream of moonlight passing through your stupidly large window. Your mouth feels dry and your skin is cold, like you’ve just woken from a nightmare. If you have, you don’t remember it. Perhaps that’s a blessing. 

You sit up, combing a finger through your hair and laughing pitifully when you realize that you left your shoes on as you slept. You hope Thomas didn’t walk in to find you in yet another unladylike position. A glance at the foot of the bed reveals he might have. Your bags have arrived- all three of them. You eye them with a combination of longing and contempt. They don't match this place. They’re worn and used- everything here is shiny and new. Still, they’re all you have, and all you have left of your life before. All you have left of home. 

You stretch your arms above your head, nearly groaning at the burn in your muscles. The carriage ride did your body no favors and you suspect you’ll be sore for many days to come. 

You rise, no longer content to lie in bed. You’ve had your rest and, from the state of darkness outside, you suspect your new husband might be joining you soon. The thought twists a certain tightness into your gut, but you push it aside. If that was the price you paid for all he gave your family… then you’d pay it gladly. 

You start with candles, finding a box of matches at your bedside. You light every candelabra you can find. The room, the castle, seems so perpetually… black- like it soaks up every ray of light it touches. Even when you’ve finished it doesn’t feel like enough. You make a note to ask Thomas for more in the morning. 

You find a meal, carefully prepared and preserved, on a table near your dresser. Judging by the fact that it’s still warm, you conclude that it can’t be much past mid-evening. You originally intend to pick at the food as you unpack, but one bite has your mouth watering. It is the most delicious thing to ever touch your lips, complete with dessert waiting on the side. You clean your plate before moving onto your bags. 

You lay your clothes out on the bed. A few dresses, riding pants, undergarments, an assortment of ribbons and bows. At one time these items had been the finest things you owned- now you owned a castle. 

You find an armoire that looks like a master sculptor carved its edges and grab a dress, intending to hang it. Instead, your dress hits the floor when you part the doors to find the hangers already full. Your lips part. Luxury dresses of silk and satin line the rack, fading into some that appear more casual outfits of cotton and linen. You stretch a hand out, curious and utterly… amazed. To think your new husband had gone to all the effort… Your hand brushes purple silk and- 

“Do you like them?” 

You screech, jumping to face the voice at your back. It takes a moment for your eyes to find him, leaning casually against one post of your bed. Your breath is stolen for a second time. Snow white hair, piercingly blue eyes, pale soft skin… you know who he is even without looking at his dress, at the air of authority he claims. He’s your husband… and he is the most devastatingly beautiful thing you’ve ever seen. 

He laughs, then, and it’s a warmer sound than you’d thought it would be- rich and full. A sound that seeps into your bones and settles in your soul. 

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you,” he says, but the twinkle in his eyes makes you think that perhaps that’s a lie. 

Your heart pounds and your eyes flash to the door. It’s shut. You didn’t hear it open, nor did you hear it close behind him. You also didn’t hear footsteps, didn’t hear breaths, didn’t hear him. 

He follows your gaze and laughs again, though it sounds a bit… strained? 

“I have a habit of being unintentionally lightfooted. I apologize.” 

Your heart is still pounding but you find it in yourself to have some decorum. You snap your jaw shut and bow your head slightly in respect. “You must be Lord Gojo. Forgive me for my insolence.” 

There’s a beat, and then footsteps– ones you actually hear this time. You clench your jaw when he stops before you and then nearly gasp when he takes your hand and brings it to his lips. 

“Satoru, please,” he winks and you think you might stop breathing. “I am your husband after all.” 

You force yourself to nod, to swallow, to act normal. But how can you in the presence of a man that looks like… that? There’s something too unreal about him, too perfect. It’s almost… unsettling. 

“Of course… Satoru.” 

He straightens and shows you a close-lipped smile that digs a dimple into his left cheek. You have to look away to avoid stumbling over your own feet. 

“So, do you like them?” Your brows furrow- “The dresses,” he clarifies. 

“O-oh.” Your features relax into an easy smile. You turn back to your armoire, running a hand along another gown. You don’t think you’ve ever touched something so… finely made. “I like them very much. I don’t know how to thank you.” 

There’s a little chuckle as you turn to face him again and you have to steel yourself before you meet his eyes. He’s mesmerizing, too mesmerizing. You think you could probably lose yourself in those eyes forever… 

“No need to thank me. If they don’t fit, we’ll call for the seamstress in the morning.” 

You nod softly, still lost to the situation. There’s a beat of silence in which your husband does nothing but… look at you. His eyes roam freely and the hair on your arms stands under his gaze. He traces the lines of your nose and jaw and lingers on your pulse. Can he see just how fast your heart is pounding?

“Did you… get dinner?” It’s a stupid question, you know, but you don’t think you can bear another second of that look he’s giving you. “I fell asleep and found a plate. I hope I didn’t prevent a proper meal…” You trail off. Perhaps you shouldn’t have pointed out your own shortcoming? 

He gives you another smile and you swear he inches just a little closer. “You did no such thing. I’m… perfectly satisfied.” 

You nod, glad that he doesn’t seem upset at the very least. Your lips press together, unsure of what to do or say. You’ve never had a husband before. Wasn’t he supposed to just sort of… put you on the bed and… do it?

Your eyes flit to said bed and your husband must see because he hurries to continue. 

“Well, I’ll see you in the morning then, hm?” His eyes flit to your armoire and back again. “Wear the blue dress with the lace to breakfast, yeah? Been dying to see it on you.” He chuckles like he’s just told some sort of amusing joke.

Your brows furrow. That was… not the topic you’d been expecting. “You’re not…” You feel your cheeks heat and tighten your jaw. “Not staying the night?” 

His lashes lower a fraction and those eyes pierce you again. You don’t think you could move even if you wanted to, even with him prowling closer, each step eating up the space between you. He doesn’t stop until you’re nose to nose and you can feel his breath fanning over your cheeks. It’s cold somehow, chilling, and you shiver. He smirks. 

“Not tonight.” 

His head dips and for a moment you think he’s going to kiss you, but then he’s bypassing your mouth altogether and- his lips connect to your pulse. His mouth is cool, just like his breath, and you shiver uncontrollably under his touch. 

His touch is just a fleeting moment, just a wrinkle in time, and then he’s gone. His footsteps are quiet brushes on the hardwood and the creak of the door even seems tamed in his presence. 

“Goodnight,” is all he says, and then he’s gone. 

You climb into your bed an hour later wondering what in the world just happened. 

~  

You do wear the blue dress to breakfast and you can only gape in the mirror when you realize that it fits perfectly. It has you second-guessing yourself. Had you sent your measurements in advance and forgotten about it? No, you’d only sent a handful of pieces of information to the Lord prior to your marriage and you remembered all of them very clearly. Everything had gone through a messenger, everything had been clear and direct– you would have remembered sending your measurements– you didn’t. So had he just… guessed? 

That seemed impossible with how everything fit you like a glove, but it was the only explanation you had. The only one that made sense. 

When you join Satoru for breakfast it’s in a sitting room as lavishly decorated as the rest of the castle, but perhaps organized to be a bit more… liveable. He has no plate in front of him, only a tin cup that hides the contents of whatever he’s drinking. You assume coffee or juice. Perhaps he’s just not a breakfast person. 

“It fits!” he says. His hands clasp together in front of him and he smiles again, dimples and all. 

You nod and fight the heat that bubbles beneath your cheeks as you take your seat. “Yes, perfectly.”

A plate is set before you and a glance up reveals it’s Thomas serving your breakfast. You smile, hoping for some acknowledgement from him, for a small piece of comfort. Instead, you get his averted gaze and quick retreat. Your brows furrow, but before you can say anything, Satoru is back to speaking. 

“I hope Thomas treated you well yesterday?” 

You glance up, but Satoru’s eyes aren’t on you, they’re on your footman. His smile is bright, but it’s anything but friendly. You fight a shiver. 

You glance at Thomas. He’s perfectly still, perfectly straight, but you think you see a muscle clench in his jaw. You clear your throat. “Y-Yes. Thomas was very helpful.” When Satoru keeps staring the boy down you add, “-and very respectful.” 

That seems to satisfy. Satoru breaks his stare and some of the tension in the air instantly eases. He shoots you another dimpled smile, this one with a little more warmth. “Perfect.” 

There’s a beat and then he’s standing, draining whatever he has in his cup and then straightening his jacket. “Well, I have some work to do. I’ll see you for dinner?” He’s grinning again, like it’s so normal for a man to abandon his bride on their wedding night and then again the morning after. All you can do is nod. He chuckles. “See you then, princess.” And then he’s gone.

~

If this is to be your life you don't know how you will survive it. You spend the day milling about. Through the gardens, through the castle, through the stables. Thomas is never far behind, but any attempt at conversation is nipped in the bud by hit shortness. It’s like he fears coming too close. He’s never closer than a couple paces except when he has to bring you something, only to retreat again as soon as possible. The other servants barely pay you any mind apart from giving you a respectful greeting and then immediately averting their eyes. There is no work to be done, no guests to be had, no parties to plan… and no Satoru. You don’t see your husband once on tour around the grounds. You ask Thomas where his office is only for him to vaguely point out a window in the east tower. You don’t see so much as a ripple in the curtains. 

Dinner comes around at the pace of a snail. When it’s finally time to get dressed a lady’s maid whose name you don’t even catch arrives to help you lace your dress. As soon as your corset is deemed tight enough she’s back out the door with a curtsy. Thomas leads you to the dining room and your eyes roam the whole way. Even after having spent the whole day exploring, there are halls and corridors that you’ve yet to step foot in. 

The dining room is just as gorgeous as the rest of the place– filled with singular items that could feed entire families for years. Somehow, you think you’ve already grown accustomed to such things, since the only thing you truly care to look at is your husband. Satoru’s already seated, but he stands when you enter, looping around the table to pull a chair out for you. 

You give him your most genuine smile, accepting a kiss to your knuckles in greeting before you settle. “How was your day?” you ask as he takes his seat again. 

He chuckles. “Perfectly fine. And how was yours, princess?” Your nose crinkles. That’s the second time he’s called you that. Something about it feels wrong. You’re still getting used to being a lady. Princess feels even worse. 

“It was… good.”

You watch a perfect white brow arch in the candlelight. “Oh? Just good?” You don’t miss the way his eyes flicker to the corner– to Thomas. 

You hurry to elaborate. “Well, I just– I can’t help but feel as if there’s not much… use for me.” Servants flood in, some carrying wine, others carrying trays that hold more food than the both of you could ever possibly consume. 

That brow arches impossibly higher. “Use?” His lips crack into that smile again, but it’s tight this time. Too tight. “You have no use. You only enjoy yourself. Surely Thomas has told you that.” 

A plate of steaming food plops in front of you. Even its heavenly smell can’t quell the sudden dread in your gut. “Of course! Of course he did.” Your stomach twists and you decide that perhaps now is not the time to press the subject. “I’ll just… I’ll try riding tomorrow.” You hate riding, but it’s the first thing that comes to mind. 

Satoru’s smile thaws into something less menacing. “I’m sure you’ll enjoy that.” 

You nod eagerly. “I’m sure I will.” 

You grab your fork, eager for a new subject. From what you can tell, dinner is roast chicken and vegetables, though it’s the luxury version as everything seems to be. The spices are intoxicating and the green beans are even arranged in a pretty little pattern that makes them look too good to eat. You do anyway. The first bite nearly makes you moan, but you chew slowly, delicately, trying not to let your upbringing show.

It’s not until several bites later that you realize you’re the only one eating. A quick glance reveals your husband has no platter, no chicken or green beans. He’s only… watching you. You clear your throat, dabbing at your lips with a napkin. 

“You’re not… eating?”

That permanent smile grows a little wider and you can’t help but feel as if there’s something… menacing about it. “Ate before I came.” 

Your brows furrow. “Oh. Were you on the road?” 

You think you see something wild flash in his eyes. “No.” 

The rest of dinner passes slowly, almost painfully. Satoru doesn’t eat a bite, doesn’t even look enticed. You wonder how that’s possible when it smells like a spice bomb went off in the dining room. 

By the time you’ve cleared your plate you’ve discussed everything from the number of horses in the stables to kinds of crops grown on the estate. It’s comforting to know a little more about your new home, but it’s not enough. 

“Is there a library?” you ask. You’re on dessert now. It’s the best chocolate cake you’ve ever had and it takes everything in you to hold back a moan each time it touches your tongue. 

“Of course.” Your husband’s eyes flicker to Thomas again and you’re honestly starting to fear for the poor footman’s life. Everytime you ask a question it’s like Satoru is angry it hasn’t already been answered. “It’s yours to use as you please.” 

You smile lightly. “Perfect. Thank you.” 

He softens a bit at that. “Is there anything specific you wanted to read about?” 

You shrug. “The estate, I suppose. I should know my home’s history, no?”

His eyes get that wild look again, that sparkle that you know speaks to nothing good. “Oh, absolutely. I have some personal favorites to recommend. I’ll leave them aside for you?” 

You swallow and give him a shallow nod. “That would be perfect. Thank you.” 

He chuckles. “My pleasure.” 

When dessert is finally over, you stand slowly. Satoru’s not far behind you, saying he’ll walk you to your room. Your heart leaps at his words. Will he stay with you tonight? 

He offers you his arm in the hall and your mouth runs dry when you feel the corded muscle beneath his jacket. By the time you reach your room, you’re thinking of tugging him in behind you. His denial to stay with you last night was not only confusing, but… off putting. Nearly offensive. Did he not like how you looked? Did he think something was wrong with you? 

You muster all the courage you possess and force your lips apart. “Will you stay with me tonight?” 

His eyes spark again and you hold your breath. He presses closer. This is it, you think. His lips hover over yours, eyes glimmering in the candlelight. And then he dips his head, his mouth pressing to your pulse. 

“Not tonight,” he whispers– and then he’s gone. 

~

You wake suddenly. It’s the middle of the night, you gather. The light streaming through the window is weak enough to only be that of the moon. 

Your heart is pounding and your skin is slick with sweat despite the chill in your bones. A nightmare, you think. It must have been a nightmare. 

As you settle back into your sheets you swear you see a ripple in the darkness. You close your eyes. If your nightmare is real, you’d rather not see it coming.

~

The library is huge. It’s sprawling and smells of paper and leather and everytime Thomas lights a candle you flinch at the idea that one misplaced spark could end thousands of years of knowledge. 

The books Satoru left you are… perfect. Just what you were looking for. They’re all comprehensive volumes of the history of the estate, many of which reference each other. You’re stunned to see that several are written by very well-known authors of both the past and the present. You knew the Gojo family’s influence reached far, but not that far. You peruse the titles. The Gojos: A History, A History of the Gojo Crest, History of the Gojo Castle, Revisiting the Gojo Family: A Comprehensive History. Altogether you have well over a few thousand pages of information– but there’s one book that doesn’t fit with the rest. It’s relatively unassuming. A black cover with some sort of gold rune etched onto its front. When you flip to the title page it reads “Creatures of Myth and Where To Find Them”. Your brows furrow. You slide it to the side– must have gotten mixed in with the others, you think.

~

You ask Thomas to bring the books to your room. He does. Very respectfully. He sets them on your bedside table and then retreats like a kicked puppy with only a polite goodbye. You sigh. His behavior has only gotten stranger in the past few days. You think the servants’ coldness must have something to do with Satoru, but you can’t figure out why. Had he ordered them to stay away? Why would he? 

You decide it’s a question for another day and dive into your books. You spend hours, days, reading every chapter, page, and word. The pure amount of information is dizzying. Apparently this specific estate had been in the hands of the Gojo family since the eighth century (with several razings and consequential rebuilds). You also learn that Satoru was not only the most wealthy lord on the continent, but the most wealthy man. Even wealthier than the king apparently, though that fact was kept fairly under wraps to protect the crown’s ego. The estimates of your husband’s net worth made your head spin.

Satoru joins you for breakfast and dinner every day. You never see him eat a morsel. It’s… unsettling to say the least. It’s always just that tin cup, filled with something you could never quite see. You develop a pattern of waking in the night, too, with the overwhelming sense that something is watching you. Sometimes you could swear you feel the bed shift as you jerk awake. Each time you simply close your eyes and try your best to slow your heart, convinced your mind is playing tricks on you. 

Your days feel a little more productive with a book in your hands, but you’ve read them all three times over by the time a fortnight has passed. You find yourself packing them up to return to Thomas when a certain black cover catches your attention. You grab it from the pile and settle back into your seat. You’ve nothing better to do, right? 

You flip back the cover, revealing a familiar title. “Creatures of Myth and Where to Find Them”. You don’t recognize the author’s name. A quick scroll through the table of contents reveals nothing particularly interesting, but you pick a random chapter on ghouls and decide to start there. 

It’s fascinating. Nothing about the style is boring and the words fly by. Your silly little myth book is a page turner. By the time you notice the light has started dying you’ve read about ghosts, fairies, werewolves, and goblins– all of which have been a delightful little read. A glance at the clock reveals you have a half hour before dinner. One more chapter, you think. Your eyes skim the title. “Vampires [Vampyr]”. 

You skim the first paragraphs until your eyes settle on a line that catches your eye. 

“Contrary to popular belief, vampires are not always crazed blood-hungry monsters. Many live among humans quite comfortably and are able to avoid detection with a little well-placed effort.” 

You purse your lips. What a… terrifying thought. You skim a little further. 

“A vampire’s key characteristic is, of course, their desire and need to drink human blood as sustenance. However, a vampire can be spotted sooner if one is able to recognize their subtler traits. Vampires often have skin lacking any sort of flush. The lack of blood in their veins results in a sickly pallor, even after the most rigorous exercise. Their skin is also noticeably cold to the touch. At best, a vampire’s body will reach room temperature. Vampires can also be noted for their preternatural beauty. They will stand out as the most attractive person in any crowd. Finally, a vampire will have fangs. If one wishes to identify a vampire, one only needs a good look at their teeth”.

A chill settles over your skin. You flip ahead a few pages. 

“Vampires are unable to consume typical human food. Should they attempt to, their bodies will immediately reject any and all foreign substances.” 

Your stomach drops. You don’t want to think about why. You skip the rest of the paragraph. 

“Vampires possess several supernatural abilities that set them apart as a human’s predator rather than their equal. Vampires are known to move unnaturally fast and are notably light footed. If a vampire does not wish to be heard, they will not be. A vampire’s strength is inhuman, well over ten times that of the average man. They also have a penchant for darkness, an ability to hide away in the shadows that cannot be explained. Oftentimes they will seem to appear from thin air.”

You skip ahead again.

“Vampires have been known to take mates. Mates usually come in the form of another vampire, but in some cases a human has been chosen. Vampires are fiercely protective of their mates, bordering on obsession. Any person deemed a threat to their bond or their mate’s safety is usually disposed of quickly. Oftentimes, vampires make these decisions with haste, with little regard for whether or not the threat was real. A vampire will do everything in their power to please their mate, but have been known to forcibly restrain their mates in situations of unrequited feelings. Above all else, vampires wish to possess their mates. Two bonded vampires will sometimes spiral into gloriously destructive fits in their endless desire to protect and possess one another. A vampire bonded to a human will show an increasingly protective nature, often isolating their mate from others.”

Your heart pounds. A bead of sweat rolls down your back. You flip the pages, desperate– desperate for a piece of information that will save you from the thoughts spilling in your mind, from the thoughts you will do anything not to believe. You reach the “Where to Find Them” subsection and nearly gasp with relief. Surely, vampires do not pose as wealthy lords of Europe? 

“Vampires can be found everywhere. They do not exist in only one country or continent, but all over the world. Odds are that you have faced at least one vampire in your life, unknowingly or not. Some vampires choose to live solitary lives, surviving in the wilderness where human society will not attempt to tame their wild nature. Others choose to live among humans, some even existing in positions of very high authority.” 

No, no, no. This can’t be happening to you. It can’t be real. You’re dreaming, you’re having one of those nightmares again. You’re going to wake up any second. 

“One tale recounts a razing of the Gojo estate in the 12th century.” 

You’re panting, hyperventilating. This isn’t happening. 

“Soldiers of the enemy force recounted a singular man, the son and heir of the then Lord Gojo, taking out a minimum of 800 men. He was described as having his family’s characteristic white hair as well as blue eyes. Eyewitness accounts depict the Gojo heir as covered in blood and killing savagely and with inhuman strength.” 

No, no, no. 

“(See next page for only existing portrait)”

Your fingers tremble but you can’t stop them. There’s no way. It’s not possible. 

You flip the page and Satoru stares back at you. 

Knock! Knock! Knock!

You nearly scream. Your door rattles angrily, but you’re not sure you can answer it, not with the knowledge flooding your mind. The knocking continues. You run your hand over your face and smooth down your hair. You feel frazzled, dirty, despite not having moved from your chair all day. Another knock prompts you to set your book aside and stand. You do your best to compose yourself, to put on a straight face. You fail instantly when you pull back the door not to reveal your faithful attendant, not Thomas, but Satoru. 

You bite back a shriek and instead force a smile. You’re suddenly very aware of the blood pounding in you veins and of the fact that he most likely knows. 

“Hello,” he says, but his voice is lower than usually, more intense. 

You force a breath into your lungs. “Hello,” you answer, but it sounds more like a squeak than a greeting. 

Something flashes in his eyes, something familiar, something that is no longer interesting but rather terrifying. “Are you alright? You seem a little… flushed.” The concern on his face feels anything but genuine. 

“I’m fine,” you answer, but even you can tell that reply too quickly, too eagerly. You rush to cover it up. “Is it time for dinner? Where’s Thomas?” 

His lip twitches and you see a muscle in his jaw flex. “Thomas has… left us.” 

No. This wasn’t happening to you. There was no way this was happening to you. 

“He… what?” There’s an unmistakable wobble in your voice that only causes Satoru’s face to fall further. 

“It’s no matter. He’s gone. Now it’s just you and me, hm?” He chuckles and the sound rattles your bones. “In fact, I was thinking I’d cut down on the number of servants we have entirely…” 

You mind races with the memory of knowledge you wish you didn’t have. “Vampires are fiercely protective of their mates, bordering on obsession. Any person deemed a threat to their bond or their mate’s safety is usually disposed of quickly.”

You nearly stumble, but lean against the doorframe just in time. Your husband had disposed of a man, all because he brought you meals and books?

“What have you been up to today, princess?” The question breaks your trance just in time for you to see your husband’s eyes flicker behind you. 

You wet your lips. “Just some reading.” You plead that he doesn’t ask anything further. He does. 

“About the estate?” he asks. 

You nod and try to swallow the lump in your throat. “Yes.”

His smile returns and this time it’s not forced. “You got my books, then?” 

You try smiling back, but you’re fairly sure it looks more like a grimace. “Yes.”

“Anything interesting?” he presses.

This isn’t happening. This can’t be happening. Does he know? Does he know that you know? “Yes, of course. Lots.” 

He pauses and you see the debate and then the decision in his eyes. You think it’s the first time you’ve felt true terror when he meets your gaze again. “I think we should skip dinner tonight. It seems we have so much to discuss.”

You don’t even have the wherewithal to scream when he steps into you, forcing you back until he’s shutting your door behind him. He doesn’t stop there, though. He keeps pressing, keeps pushing until your knees hit the bed and you’re falling to the mattress. He crawls right after you.

“Who knew my little wife was such a reader? All those books in such a short time… You must be simply spilling with information.” 

You retreat across the mattress, squeaking when your back hits the headboard and his arms cage your waist. You’re trapped.

His hands find your hips and you’re all too aware of how cool his touch is. Even more so when he pulls you right into his lap.

“Satoru-” your voice is pitiful, breathless, and you’re ashamed to say it’s not just from the fear in your gut. He’s never been this close before, never touched you, held you like this. “Thomas-” 

“Don’t speak his name.” His face pulls into the first scowl you’ve ever seen and the sight is enough to root you to the spot. Never have you seen anything more frightening. A creature so beautiful, so perfectly angelic, filled with an insurmountable rage. It’s wrong. “He’s gone. He’ll never bother you again.” He’s closer now, his breath skating over your skin. It’s cool and now you know the reason why. 

You shake and tremble and you know– Thomas is dead. Your husband killed him– killed him for getting too close when all he did was stay at a distance. Satoru killed him. Killed him. 

He buries himself in your neck, his voice a near whine. “Thought I could put up with it, just so you’d have someone to take care of you…” He groans. “I was so wrong, princess. Couldn’t stand it. Couldn’t stand the way you smelled more like him than me…” 

You feel him melt against you then, relief washing over his body in a wave. “But he’s gone. And now it’s just you and me, hm? Just you and me…” He hums, like remembering that fact is all he’s ever needed.

He’s kissing your pulse again, now, and your heart is racing faster than ever. Your fingers curl into his shoulders. You should push him away, away, away. He’s a killer, of thousands no doubt. You’ve never felt at home here, never felt like you belonged. This is why. You’re not even the same species. He’s something else, something your hands were never meant to touch. 

Your mind screams at you to do go, to shove and kick at him and leave this place behind. Go, go, go your gut says… but you don’t. You can’t. It’s too… good. The feeling of his cool lips against your skin, of what you’re sure is his tongue prodding at your pulse… it’s intoxicating. He is intoxicating. How could anyone blame you for wanting more of someone, something, so divine? 

“Have you figured it out yet, love?” Your breath hitches and he chuckles, licking a long stripe up your neck, before he settles back at your pulse. Always your pulse. “I can feel those little gears turning. Tell me, what have they discovered?” 

He knows you know. But he’s going to make you say it. You swallow and feel his grip on you tighten. “You’re…” Your breaths come faster. You can’t. Not aloud. Aloud makes it too… real. 

“Yessss?” he prods. He’s licking at you again, all the way across your throat to find your other pulse-point. 

“You’re not…” Something sharps nicks at your skin and you bite your lip to hold back a whimper. 

“Go on, princess.” You think he’s just smelling you now, just burying his face as close to you as possible and taking you in. 

You close your eyes tightly, holding back tears. “Not human,” you breathe. A piece of you breaks with the admission.

He huffs a little laugh against your skin and pulls back to look you in the eye. “That’s good,” he purrs. “But I think you can be a little more specific, no?” His lips press to your chin, then the corner of your mouth, then down to your jaw… “Tell me.” 

Your lips wobble, muscles clenching tighter with each passing moment. You don’t want to say it, don’t want to speak it into existence, but you also don’t dare to disobey him. 

“You’re a…” You shake and tremble. He draws a line up your neck with the tip of his nose.

“Mhm?” 

You open your eyes, thinking this might be the last time you see. “Vampire.” 

He chuckles and you feel his teeth press to the skin of your neck. “That’s right, princess. So smart.” 

He smiles and you suddenly realize you’ve never seen his teeth before. Everytime he smiles at you it’s close-lipped and dimpled. But this… this is the smile of a predator– all white and pointy and fitted with a set of menacingly long fangs. You sob at the sight. 

“Shhhhh,” he coos. He has your chin in his hand, forcing you to truly look at him, to see him for what he is. “I won’t hurt you, love.” You want to believe him so badly it burns, but his laugh washes away any fire and turns it to ice. “Not unless you want me to.” He wiggles a brow like it’s just a little joke, like he’s not an actual fucking vampire that had his fangs over your neck just moments ago. 

“Satoru,” you beg. You’re not sure what you’re begging for. Release maybe? But, no, that’s not right. You don’t want him to let you go, not when you finally have him close after all this time. “Why did you pick me?” 

The question slips out. You hadn’t even been thinking about it, hadn’t even noticed it scratching at the walls of your mind, but it made its way out nonetheless.

His brow creases, but not in confusion. Moreso in… thoughtfulness. “Do you think about that a lot, princess?” 

You nod and you suddenly want him closer, want him to touch you everywhere, hold you like his life depends on it. You want him, no matter how horrible it might be. 

He nods and hums, kissing the tip of your nose lightly. “Well…” he says. His thumb swipes over your lips when he leans in to whisper in your ear. “At first I wanted you for this.” His head dips to your neck again and you feel the familiar brush of his lips against your throat. “You smell…” he chuckles. “Like heaven. Which is a place I’ll never get to on my own, so I had to bring my own little slice home, no?” He laughs again, a little louder this time, genuinely amused. “Went into town one day and caught your scent on the street. At first I thought I must be walking past the bakery, but, lo and behold, there was no baker in sight.” He’s still kissing at your pulse, worshiping it. “Went crazy, princess. Didn’t think I was going to be able to contain myself when I found you. Thought it might be quite the scene.” He huffs a laugh and you shiver, somehow both terrified and intoxicated. “But then I saw you–” he groans and something clenches deep at your center. “And I knew I needed more than just your blood. Needed you.” He’s rocking into you now, and your breath catches when you feel something firm against your backside. “Went to you in that little room you slept in every night. Watched you. Couldn’t stay away. Knew I had to have you.” You feel him smile against your skin. “After a week I couldn’t take it anymore. Sent you that letter, married you. Made you mine.” He groans again. “Then I met you and you were so pretty, princess. Already knew it, but hearin’ you talk to me, look at me.” Teeth graze your pulse. “Needed you more than ever. Almost took you right on the fucking floor in here while you were lookin’ at those dresses.” You whine when his hips roll into you again. “Oh, but I knew I couldn’t. You’re so fragile, love. Had to wait, had to make you feel safe, yeah? Spent all this time forcing myself to stay away, ‘fraid of what I might too if I was in your presence too long. Had to control myself. Had to make you realize you could trust me.” He panting, like he’s so pent up he can hardly sit still. “Do you trust me, princess?” 

Your brows scrunch. Say no, say no, say no a part of you screams. Run, run, run. You can’t. “Yes,” you breathe. 

You feel him smile again, feel the pleasure of submission. “Good girl.” 

You’re on your back. It happens so fast your eyes don’t even have time to gasp. You don’t see Satoru, but you feel him. Everywhere. His hands are roaming your body softly, sliding under buttons and laces and popping them off. Your dress loosens with every passing moment until Satoru reappears above you, diving straight for your neck again. “So good, princess. Let’s get you out of this dress, yeah?” 

You nod wordlessly, entranced. He finds your mouth as he rids you of your clothes. His tongue presses in and you flail against him, unsure of what to do, of how to handle the intrusion. The kiss is heavy, too heavy, but Satoru can’t seem to stop. He devours you as he gives up on laces and buttons and simply shreds your dress down the back. You tremble when the cold air hits your skin, when his cool fingers dust your collarbone. 

“I always forget how many damn layers they make you ladies wear,” he chuckles. His hands run beneath your shift, up across your bare thigh. You gasp at the touch. No one has even been so close to you before. You feel the threads of your corset snapping away, feel your breaths growing deeper. You tremble when he pulls your sleeve down past your shoulder and runs his mouth along the newly exposed skin. 

“Satoru,” you gasp, and your hand pulls at his flowing white shirt. 

He chuckles, pulling back just enough to see your face. “You wanna see me too?” You nod, lips parted and eyes glassy, and he laughs again. He lips dust over the corner of your mouth. “Alright.” 

His hands shift from you to himself, working at the laces on his chest. His movements are speedy, practiced, like he’s been lacing and unlacing shirts for hundreds of years. Your throat tightens when you realize that he has. 

You gasp when he reveals himself, when his shirt slides away to reveal an expanse of pale skin and carved muscle. You’ve never seen a man like this and seeing one this close up for the first time is nearly blinding. He’s art, you think- nothing less. 

“Touch me, princess,” he says. You can’t. You shouldn’t. He’s too beautiful, too perfect to be beneath your insignificant hands. “Need a little help?” he asks, and there’s a lilt in his voice that makes you sure he’s grinning. 

His hands find yours and bring them to his chest, running your palms over his collarbones, his pecs, down, down, down across his abs that you can feel each and every one… You whimper, watching your own fingers grope his skin. He pulls you lower, lower, lower, and you gasp when your fingertips brush the waistband of his pants. But then he’s laughing again and he’s throwing your arms over his shoulders and pulling you closer, kissing your neck like it pained him to be parted from your pulse for so long. 

“Not so fast,” he says, like he wasn’t the one nearly stuffing your hands down his pants. His hands are on your corset again. You can feel it dangling onto you by a thread, literally. All he needs is a couple more pulls and you’ll be bare. By the look he gives you, you can tell he’s 

thinking the same thing. “You touch me, now I touch you, yeah?” There’s a tug and a tear and then so much… cold. You’ve never realized how cold this castle is, not until you’re exposed to its elements fully. You’re naked. 

Satoru sits back on his knees and just watches. His gaze is searing, burning, despite the iciness of his being. It’s too much. Your hands move to cover yourself, to maintain some modicum of your dignity- 

“No.” Strong hands find your wrists and pry them apart. “Let me see you,” he says. His tongue darts out to lick his lips. 

Your jaw clenches and your frame shakes, but you do as he asks, letting your hands fall limply at your sides. There’s silence for many more moments and it seems to go on so long that you can only squeeze your eyes shut under his gaze. Surely he will turn you away now, get up and leave, tell you this was a mistake, tell you that you’re– 

“Beautiful,” he breathes. Your eyes snap open to find him already staring at you. “Beautiful,” he says again, and then he’s on you, lips at your pulse, hands on your skin. His touch is cool and you squeak at the chill that runs up your spine. You’re not sure it’s entirely from his temperature. 

His mouth seeks yours and he devours you. You feel as if he’s sucking your soul out through your lips. “Tell me you’ve never done this before,” he begs. “Tell me I’m the first to touch you.” 

You whine against his mouth, both aching for more and overwhelmed by what he’s already giving you. “Y-You’re the first,” you whisper. 

His groan is deep, primal. It rattles through your chest and you whimper when his hands dig into your waist hard enough to bruise. “Yes,” he breathes, and you shiver again. “Lie back, princess.” Your eyes widen, with anticipation or fear you’re not sure. Probably both. He chuckles. “Don’t worry. I’ll be gentle.” 

You pray he means that. “Just relax, love. Here, hold my hand.” His fingers find yours, twining them together. When you swallow, his eyes follow the bob of your throat. He leans back again and your body twitches when his free hand skims the skin of your thighs. His tongue darts out to wet his lips as he finds your knees and you gasp when he parts your legs, revealing you so completely to his gaze. The way he stares, like he’s committing you to memory, it’s nearly enough to make you snap your thighs shut, but a squeeze from his hand reminds you to relax, to trust. 

His palm skates up your thigh and settles near your hip, his fingertips inching closer to where you can feel an embarrassing throb. 

“Tell me, love. Have you ever touched yourself here?” His fingers dust low on your tummy- just low enough for you to catch his meaning, but not low enough to give you any relief. Your face heats and your teeth dig into the flesh of your cheek. You have, you have touched yourself there, but it’s the last thing you want to admit to your new husband. It’s shameful, it’s dirty, it’s- “Don’t think I’ll judge you, princess. Just wanna know.” 

You gulp down a breath. You should come clean. “Y-yes,” you stutter, and the sound of your voice so weak and helpless only makes you flush further. 

He chuckles and squeezes your hand again. “On the outside or the inside?” 

Your eyes widen. I-inside? You’d never considered that… “J-just the outside,” you answer. 

Your eyes grow even wider when his head rolls back and he moans straight up to the ceiling like your answer is heaven-sent. When he looks back to you his fangs are on full display. “Well, I think you and I are in for a little treat today, hm?” 

Your brow furrows and your lips part to ask him what he means– his fingers travel those last few inches down your tummy and find your clit. You squeak and jolt so violently that he presses a hand to your hip, holding you to the mattress. “Somebody’s sensitive,” he chuckles. He holds you still for a moment and then lets your hips go free. “Try to stay still. I promise it’ll feel good.”

You nod hopelessly, but this time you’re prepared for when he touches you again. Your muscles clench at the first touch, at the foreign sensation of a touch down there that wasn’t your own. But then it’s more. It’s languid, slow circles around a spot that you’ve never been able to pinpoint so well on your own. It’s heat building in your tummy that seeps through every vein and into every pore. It’s relaxation that you’ve never known, that has you melting into the mattress despite the chill of the touch. 

There’s a little huff of a laugh and then his voice. “Good girl. Feels nice, yeah?” You nod hesitantly and squeeze desperately at his hand, searching for an anchor. His head cocks to the side and you watch the smile slide across his lips. “It’s about to feel even nicer.” 

By the time you realize what he’s doing it’s far too late to stop him. His mouth closes around your cunt and you yelp, trying to wiggle away from the overwhelming sensation- but he’s got his freehand on your hip again and his grip is bruising, punishing, as he holds you in place. He licks a stripe through your folds and you find yourself jolting again, uselessly so against the pressure of his palm on your hip. “Stop that, princess.” Your heart drops at the admonishment until you feel his guiding touch. “Rock into me like this.” His hand rocks your hips into his mouth and the pressure of his tongue against your clit is so delicious that you whimper. “Good girl,” he says and your heart rises right back up. “Keep doing that, now.” You don’t dare defy him. You rock like he showed you, a little jerkily at first, and then you find a rhythm that has you seeing stars. “That’s it, love,” he says, and the sound is muffled against your cunt. “Here, put your hand in my hair.” He finds your wrist and guides you forward until your fingers are tangling in those snowy locks. They’re even softer than you’d imagined. “Good girl,” he whispers and suddenly he’s taking one last long lick and lifting his head to meet your eyes. “‘M gonna put my fingers in you now, princess.” Your chin wobbles. “It might hurt a little bit, but stay still, okay?” You can’t do anything but nod. 

His eyes return to your cunt and you can feel him prodding at your entrance, circling the hole as you clench in anticipation. “Relaaaaaax, love,” he says and you nod. A deep breath in through your nose and out through your mouth– 

You feel the exact moment he pushes into you and a whine of pain rips from your throat. Your walls clamp down like a vice, angry at the intrusion– but it’s already too late. There’s a beat of silence, of anticipation, and then he’s– laughing? 

Your brows furrow when you hear it, your head lifting to a sight that locks your limbs in shock. Satoru’s hand is lifted in front of his face, his pointer finger coated in– blood, you realize. Your blood. And he’s a fucking vampire. 

“Oh princess,” he coos, and the manic look in his eyes makes you tremble. “You really are perfect.” 

Things seem to slow as you watch him take his blood covered finger into his mouth. You’re sure you’ve never seen an expression more blissful, more lost to sensation. His eyes roll back and his body shivers, like he’s ascending to some higher plane. Maybe he is. 

When he pulls his finger from his mouth it’s completely licked clean. You hold your breath. He’s going to go for your neck now, right? He’s had a taste and now he’ll want more of it, all of it?

“Fuck,” is all he says. His mouth is back on your cunt so fast you don’t even see him move. 

Your mouth falls wide. It hurts, the way he is so desperately licking at you. You feel his finger again, pressing in, in, in, only to pull back and suddenly be joined by another. The stretch tears at you. You thrash and jolt, but Satoru doesn’t bother telling you to stop this time. His arm wraps over your hips, holding you in place. He seems immune to how hard your legs squeeze at his head or your hands pull at his hair. He’s lost. You can feel him licking, lapping, and prodding at you like you’re a fucking gold mine. He’s lost to desperation, to the need for more, more, more. Every so often he lifts his chin and you see his mouth smudged with a mixture of your wetness and your blood. He laps at his lips like an animal, dragging his thumb across his chin and sliding it into his mouth to make sure he gets every last drop. 

You’re not quite sure when the ravenous pain turns to a ravenous pleasure, when it turns from terrifying to downright delicious. You don’t notice your moans filling the air until Satoru joins you, groaning and whining into your cunt and telling you to keep going, to keep making those sounds. The hand you have buried in his hair doesn’t fight to push him away any longer, only to pull him into those now practiced rocks of your hips. His fingers thrust deep, curling into a spot that makes you feel so good and his mouth has found your clit again. He sucks your nerves lightly between his lips, tongue swirling in little circles. Your thighs start to shake. 

“Yes. Yes. Give it to me.” 

“S-Satoru–” you breathe. Warmth and tightness pool in your tummy, and you recognize it as your approaching orgasm, though you know this one will be far different than any you’ve ever managed to give yourself. Your body shakes and your breaths tremble and then– you fall over the edge, rocking your hips senselessly, losing all form of rhythm. Warmth tingles in your spine and seeps all the way down to your toes. You think you cry out, cry for your husband, cry for more, cry for less, but if you do you don’t hear it. All you hear is the pounding of your pulse, of pleasure throbbing in your veins until the world slowly seeps back in through the corners of your vision. 

Satoru is grinning. A speck of your blood clings to his chin and his fangs peek out from behind his lips. The sight makes your blood run a little colder. If any part of you doubted what he was before… well, there was no doubt any longer. 

There’s a shift between your legs, his hips slotting between them, and you’re suddenly snapped back to reality. From the look in his eyes, you’re not done. 

Frantic hands find his pants and he undoes each button with a quickness that is almost inhuman. You wonder if he could go even faster, if he’s holding back so as not to scare you. If he is, it isn’t working very well. Fear surges in your veins right alongside anticipation. 

“S-Satoru–”

“It’s alright, love.” His hand finds yours without his eyes ever looking up. His grip is just a little too firm, a little too cold. “Just stay still.” 

You whimper, but you don’t think he’s paying attention to that, and soon enough, neither are you. His pants slide down just past his hips, just enough. You gasp. 

You’ve never seen a man in the nude, never even dared to think about what it might look like, though it seemed you no longer had to guess. His hand wrapped around his shaft, giving one long and slow stroke that made his breath hiss through his fangs. The tip was flushed, angry, and leaking something that looked clear and sticky. You couldn’t help but notice it was a lot thicker than a finger, or even two. If his fingers had hurt…

He moves with that alarming quickness again, leaning down to hover over you, chests nearly pressed together. “Gonna take you now, princess. Gonna make you mine.” His eyes bore into yours, blue and shimmering with something wild. His hand presses into the mattress beside your head. “Stay still, now.”

It’s all the warning he gives you. You feel like you’re splitting– straight up the middle. You wail, hands flying out to claw at his back. It hurts. It hurts. 

“Satoru, p-please! It’s–” 

Lips catch yours– hungry, feral. The kiss is not gentle, not soothing. It shuts you up, it keeps you quiet, it keeps you still as you feel him sinking further, deeper into you. It’s too much, you try to say, but the poke of sharp teeth against your lips keeps you silent. Your hips jolt and wiggle trying desperately to escape the stretch but it’s no use. By the time he’s fully inside you, tears are streaking down your cheeks, fat and heavy. His lips break away and his eyes reappear. You shake when you see that none of the wildness has been tamed, that you’ve only just begun.

“Good girl,” he coos, and a cool finger traces a line across your jaw. “Took me so well.” You hold back a sob when his hips shift a little, testing, prodding. He must see the pinch of your eyes, the twist of your mouth, because he’s quick to comfort. “Just hold my hand, princess.” His hips rock in earnest this time and you whimper, squeezing down on his hand with all your might. You’re panting as he chuckles. “Breathe, love. Breathe. Soon you’ll be begging for more,” he laughs. It’s not long before he’s rocking into you sincerely, setting a pace that stretches you to the brink of breaking. At first it’s all you can do to grasp onto him, to bite your lips through the whimpers and hold his hand. And then it’s… more. It’s heat and warmth despite the coolness of his body on yours. It’s sensation and… pleasure. He laughs when the first moan slides past your lips, burying his face in your neck once again. You hear him at your ear, panting his hot breath across your skin. 

“Feel good, princess?” You nod, letting your hips rock against his as he showed you before. It feels good– it feels right. He chuckles, but there’s nothing light about the sound. “Wanna feel even better?” Something sharp pokes at the skin of your neck, hard enough to make you squeak, to make you freeze at what you know he wants. 

He pulls himself back, pressing his forehead to yours, searching your eyes with his. Something like a cruel smile dances on his mouth. “Just a taste, love. I promise it won’ hurt.” His tongue darts out and licks across your lips, his thrusts rocking just a bit faster. “You’ll feel s’ good an’ I’ll only take a little.” He laughs again and it sends a chill through your bones. “Promise.” He sounds breathless, like he’s struggling to restrain himself. The increase of his pace makes you whine and you squeeze his hand again. He buries himself back in your neck, panting. “Come on, love. Say yes. Say yes f’ me.” Your eyes glaze over. Your body justles with each new thrust. He’s desperate now, seeking a release that you don’t think is any kind you’re familiar with. “Yes, yes, yes,” he chants in your ear. You’re not sure when his words twist in your mind, when they settle on your tongue and push past your lips, but you know it feels so right when they do. 

“Yes,” you whisper. 

His fangs clamp around your pulse. You scream when the sting rips through you, violent and savage– but it only lasts a moment. Pain fades to… ecstasy. You feel his throat bobbing with each swallow, feel your blood seeping from your skin and onto his tongue. You’d thought it would feel slicing, draining, like the life was being sucked from you. It doesn’t. It feels wonderful. Heat spreads under your skin, emanating from your neck and down to your toes. It feels like breathing for the first time, like sugar being pumped into your veins. It feels like heaven. Your hand tangles in his hair, holding him close. You don’t want it to stop, not ever. You could die like this, have him suck every last drop of blood from your veins and thank him for it with your dying breath. 

He’s moaning now, hands curling into your hips while he fucks into you relentlessly. The pace is grueling and brutal. You know it should hurt but only feels perfect. Anything less would not be enough. Anything else would leave you wanting. You feel it building, feel that familiar twinge at your core. The ecstasy flooding through your veins has it coming faster, has you teetering on the edge in moments. 

“Satoru…” You hadn’t noticed how dizzy you felt until you tried to speak. You wonder why… “‘M gonna…” 

He fucks you harder, something menacing and deep rumbling in his chest. The sound makes you shiver, makes you whine, makes you come. 

Your body shakes and a cry rips from your throat, cunt clenching like a vice around him. Your eyes roll back, hands scraping trails down his back. Your thighs quake with the intensity, with the overwhelming senses of pleasure that erupt throughout your body. Every nerve is firing, every hair rising. It’s an unstoppable current, one that sweeps you away, helpless to its pull. 

His thrusts grow sloppy and untimed. His grip on your hips tightens, holding you in place while he makes you his. His teeth break from your neck and when you look up through blurry eyes you see his head thrown back, your blood streaming down his chin in thick little globs. You feel it when he cums, feel the thick ropes of it seeping into your womb, feel the way he keeps fucking you, pushing it deeper and deeper inside. He’s moaning, chanting your name like a prayer at the heavens. 

When the moment ends he slumps over you, eyes half lidded and tired. There’s a familiar grin on his lips, one that inspires both comfort and uneasiness in your gut. You can’t help but stare at him, at the blood that stains his chin and cheeks, that reddens his lips so beautifully. You want to reach out and touch him, touch his blood-soaked skin and see what it feels like, what it tastes like. What you taste like. 

His eyes slide to the side, finding your pulse again. You groan. Yes, you think. Please, yes. More. You don’t think you’ll ever get enough of that. Of his teeth in your flesh, of the euphoria flooding your veins. More, more, more, your mind chants. 

He chuckles lightly and shakes his head. “No, princess.” He raises a finger to trace the curve of your neck. “I took more than I should have…” His expression doesn’t tense with worry. His cheeks pull into a smile, those little dimples shining through. “But what can I say? You just taste so good.” Like he needs to emphasize his point, his tongue darts out to trace his lips, lapping up some of the remaining blood on his chin. “You taste like mine.”

You whine. More, more, more. It’s all you can think about. You lift an arm weakly. You want to pull him to your neck, to make him drink, to make him fill you with the heaven you had just moments ago. 

He catches your wrist and brings it to his lips, inhaling deeply. His lips split into another grin and you see his eyes spark again with the wildness you crave. 

“Not yet, princess.” he coos. “But soon.” His smile grows even wider, until those fangs are on full display, until you’re trembling again. “Forever,” he whispers.

taglist (dm me or send an ask to be added!): @lacheri, @la-undercover-latina, @keiva1000

please consider leaving a comment, sending an ask, or reblogging! interacting with authors is the best way to support them! thanks for reading ♡

#gojo #gojo smut #gojo x reader #jjk gojo #satoru gojo #gojo satoru #jjk x reader #jjk #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen #satoru #jujutsu gojo #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk x reader smut #vampire gojo #vampire #tw: loss of virginity #tw: yandere #jujustu kaisen #gojo x you #bree's fics!

[midnightblues444]

Lustful afflictions |

Priest nanami x brat! fem reader

Warnings: age gap (readers in her 20s and hes like 30 something), perversion of Christian faith, corruption, m receiving, sacrilege ,

Notes: fell off the face of the earth for 2 months now I'm back so enjoyy <3

Imagine driving priest nanami to temptation and making him lose his mind remembering it all during a prayer for forgiveness

"I confess to my sins of lust" he recounts, knelt in prayer

From the moment you walked into his cathedral he could sense trouble

"the source of my sinful affliction, that of a girl who wondered into my very own church"

You'd giggle in his sermons, and look at him with a sparkle that he couldn't quite place. Your words dripping off your tongue like melted candy, he can only recall how the sound of his name from your lips sent jolts of an unfamiliar feeling through him.

"A walking temptation she was.."

the way you're dresses were always so short and tight, there was disrespect that radiated from your very being yet it wasnt the biggest issue

He could see it when you listen to his sermons, not with intent but with amusement more so seductively studying him, often catching himself losing his focus if he made eye contact with you.

It was most apparent when you came up for communion, staring up at him with doe eyes as you ate the bread slowly, smirking when he couldnt keep the eye contact . Turning back ever so slightly with a giggle as you made way to your seat.

"I repent, I repent"

Hed prided himself on always being a man of honor and more importantly a man of god, hed thus expected the unholy thoughts to go away on their own.

Though he took a concious effort not fall into the temptation you dangled before him and keep composed.

"It was in this very confessional where the affair began"

To his suprise you came to confessional one afternoon. Skipping down toward the box, the apparent click of your heels hitting the tiles of the church floor made his heart pound in his chest.

"She spoke things I'd never heard before, she promised to help me in ways the lord couldnt"

"Lust is natural for all of us isnt it nanami"

He cleared his throat, at the sugary way you said his name

"Lustful thought" you'd sighed, "though I think we all struggle with lust, do we not?"

"I suppose so, but we thus practice abstinence" he replied

"I should've abstained..."

"But do we really need to abstain from what we truly desire" you said , trying to push your luck "I mean I see how you look at me father nanami"

"I am a holy man though how I acted was not a reflection of that"

He slid your side of the confessional door open staring down at you with a faint blush. The priest was undeniably a beautiful man, his defined face and toned body that peaked under his black attire but was noticeably when he fidgeted with his white collar.

"So what do I do about it?"

"Take a seat" you purred

"I wish to repent and continue a life in your light"

He was clutching a rosary while you were on your knees, the priests cock hitting the back of your throat repeatedly.

He barely held it together, muttering forgive me lord under his stuttering breaths. He whined under your every touch, finding himself pleading for release, as the feeling of your throat was warm and unlike anything hed ever felt

begging for more, with his deep grunts as he thrusted unconsciously harder

"Forgive me I have sinned"

"Nggh" he breathed out, while you hummed and massage his balls, cumming down your throat with a deep whine

You wiped your mouth and stand, kissing his cheek sweetly. Straddling him with affection.

"You're not wearing panties" he said bewildered

"Didnt think I'd need em" you giggled as you slowly slid onto him. Both moaning out at the sensation. You began to move slowly adjusting to his girth, his head laid back as he breathlessly panted

"No no, look at me, look how good you make me feel" you said as you gently cupped his cheek

There is something so powerful about unraveling such a large man.

"So tight," he heaved tinted of blush across his face. You grind into your spot, moans filling up the small confessional space.

"Mmm so good, you're doing so good" you purred into his neck

"Forgive me because I find myself addicted to the feeling of her around me"

His thrusts grew sloppy, his grip on your hips stutter

"Forgive me because this addiction has costed me certainty in my faith"

He released into you for the second time, slumping into your plush chest, as you stroked his hair comfortingly.

"Amen"

#jjk x reader #jjk #nanami kento #nanami smut #nanami x reader #jjk nanami #jujutsu nanami #kento smut #jjk kento #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk smut

[cripple-culture-is]

Sorry, but if you do not use a mobility aid, then you aren't physically disabled 🤷‍♀️ Only those with mobility aids can call themselves a cripple. I saw your main blog and that you are "physically disabled without mobility aids". That's not even possible. You can't be physically disabled and not require mobility aids.

And the fact that you believe you have the right to use the word cripple rubs me the wrong way. You have to look disabled in order to use that slur. Otherwise it's incredibly disrespectful.

If you can walk, you are not crippled. Crippled means to "cause (someone) to become unable to walk or move normally." If you can walk, you can move normally.

My first full on hate comment lol 🤣 I'm really moving up in the world.

But on a serious note, yes, you can be physically disabled and not require mobility aids. Physical disability isn't always stagnant. It isn't always as simple as someone who is paralyzed being a full time wheelchair user.

Since you used definitions, I'll use definitions. Physical disability is defined as "a limitation on a person's physical functioning, mobility, dexterity or stamina." Also, "any physical limitations or disabilities that inhibit the physical function of one or more limbs of a certain person."

I am physically disabled. I pretty much always have been. I have a mobility disability. I was diagnosed with juvenile idiopathic arthritis at 9 months old, an autoimmune disease. I did show symptoms at 4 months old at the latest though. Arthritis is actually the leading cause of disability and the most common disabling condition for U.S. adults.

I do not currently use mobility aids, no, but I am looking into getting a rollator for college. So I suppose that when I do get that aid, I will finally, in your eyes at least, be considered physically disabled.

However, I have reached a point in my life where I don't really care what people say about my disability. Whether you believe I'm physically disabled or not doesn't change the fact that I am physically disabled under U.S. law 🤣🤣

I got my permanent disability plates and placard when I was about 5 years old, though I probably could've gotten it before then.

I have always said that I have never used mobility aids. And while that's technically true, it's also not. I've never used traditional mobility aids regularly. I used a wheelchair in public once as a child, and I hated the pity looks adults would give me as I used to be more self-conscious.

However, I HAVE used untraditional mobility aids. While most people wouldn't consider them as such, I have used aids that have helped my mobility, mostly as a child, they just aren't stereotypical disability aids.

I was offered a wheelchair as a child, but due to the pity looks I got from adults, I turned it down. My parents worked around that hangup of mine by using things that I was confident enough to use for mobility as well as more acceptable to me.

My parents had bought this long stroller. When I got older, the typical strollers caused problems, in that I couldn't rest my legs on anything. So I had this stroller that had a leg rest that I could use to stretch my legs as keeping them bent for long periods of time physically hurts me.

I also sat in the baskets of shopping carts until I was in my mid-teens. My mother or father would put the cart with me in it and I'd sit in it as if I was merchandise just like everything else in the basket. This was all because I couldn't walk.

Though, what would happen when a stroller or shopping cart wasn't available? I would get a piggyback ride, mostly from my sister, though from my father as well. My mom did it only occasionally as she has joint issues just like I do.

Then, when I was a bit older, my parents bought me a red wagon. We would take it to amusement parks and carry some things in it. We'd use it for food and other stuff. But it's real purpose was to be there in case I got to a point where I couldn't walk anymore.

I have arthritis in every single joint in my body. From my jaw and neck, all the way to my toes. Hips, ribs, spine, you name it, I got it.

As for the use of the word 'cripple' it DOES apply to me. Cripple refers to anyone with a physical disability. And due to my disability, I do have lower body involvement. Hips, knees, ankles, toes, etc. All of it.

As for being able to "move normally", I actually don't completely. I appear like I do, but if you look at the structure of my legs and the way I walk, I do move differently than a lot of people. I find that I tend to limp often, even when I'm not in pain. And I am curious as to if that's because I got so used to limping as a child due to pain that my walking pattern just adopted that, leading me to limp when I'm not in pain. I also sometimes walk as if I'm waddling.

Plus, if you notice, my right knee is actually slightly turned in, which means that somehow, it's out of alignment. Knees are supposed to point forward. My dad's point forward, my sister's point forward, my mom's mostly point forward. Both of mine do not, even though both of my ankles are straight. My left one is pretty straight, straight enough for me to not really notice it. But my right is a separate story.

Because my right knee is pointed slightly inward, I tend to walk with my right foot slightly turned out.

I'm not sure if the alignment is a knee issue, a hip issue, or potentially an ankle issue. This wasn't an issue that was ever pointed out by my doctors as a child, cause my knees have been like this for a while. I did have a lot of knee inflammation as a kid.

But back fully on topic, cripple punk isn't contingent on the use of mobility aids. Plus the assumption that I have to "look disabled" in order to be physically disabled is very ableist and leads to those like me getting harassed when we use our handicapped parking permits. I'm invisibly physically disabled, I have always recognized that. But me having an invisible disability doesn't change the fact that I am physically disabled. And come this time next year, I will probably "look disabled". Not that I believe disability has a look. It doesn't. Believing disability has a look is ableist and perpetuates harmful stereotypes. I AM physically disabled. I AM crippled, mobility aid or no mobility aid.

You don't know my history, you don't know me. You don't know my day to day life.

In order for you to believe me, you'd likely have to see my diagnosis papers and the proof of my disability. But you are not entitled to that information. I don't have to show it to you, and I'm not going to.

#physical disability #cpunk #cripplepunk #cripple punk #crip punk #physically disabled #physical disabilities

[missmoondrops]

Thinking about a scene where a fallen angel is ensnared by a dark enchantress. She finds him, wounded and sobbing, at the foot of the grand staircase which pours down into the entrance of her castle. He is bathed in moonlight, his olive skin kissed by its silver, his once-striking wings now fragile and broken. As the cries flee his throat and echo throughout the many, many halls, her bare feet slither closer, until he finally senses her coming down those plush steps. His reddened face whips her way.

"What troubles you?" she would ask, her face cold and irresistible.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't be here."

"You've been cast down, haven't you? Denied grace?"

His features contorted at her words, conveying something bitter, yet powerless–something between anger and agony.

"For so long, He was my north. And now..."

"Now you're godless," the enchantress concluded, as she drew a leg out from between the folds of her dress and calmly sat at his side. "Whatever your sin, He must've thought it unforgivable," she then mused.

"To Him, I was unforgivable."

"Yes. You were. Always," she asserted, drawing close. "If He wanted you to know what it would take for you to be forgiven, you would. But you don't, do you?"

The angel painfully shook his head in response. For a passing moment, it was as though he now sought such forgiveness in her eyes. The enchantress carefully put a hand on his chest, and began to rub at his heart. A tiny smile touched her lips. It lulled, and lulled, and lulled the angel until she caught him unawares, gripping his jaw.

"Make no mistake. This is by design. He liked you when you came close. So close," she drawled, as she cinched her brow. "But He loved you most when you came up short. What you need is a new god. One you know exactly how to please."

She let out a little laugh at the sight of him then. His chest as it nervously rose and fell, his lips quivering between her fingers, his robe tenting as his eyes begged her not to look...

"You don't want me. I'm lesser now. I've lost my strength, my insight, my way. I can't even fly," he managed, in his broken voice.

"Say 'please'," was all the enchantress said, as she let go of his jaw, finally allowing him the room to cover his immodesty.

"W-what?"

"You want me to feel sorry for you? Pity you?" She rose to tower over him. "Beg for it."

The angel was disturbed to find a deep, uncontrollable passion take root in his chest. He struggled against it briefly before he let the word slip past his lips. "Please," he entreated, under his breath, and the enchantress saw many things in his face when he looked up at her: shame, willingness, humility.

Most of all, however, she saw pain–the kind that can only be excised when it is deepened.

Months later, his cries can be heard in the castle's halls again. There is no corner they do not reach. Whether in chambers, in corridors, or in courtyards, his obscenity fuels the enchantress. It is the best way, he has learned, to provoke her disrespect. As she fills and fucks and berates her angel into ecstasy, he will thank her for her mercilessness. And as he lies exhausted with his head draped over her chest, he will thank her for the two scars on his back, where his wings used to be.

#femdxm #male sub #nsft writing #mooniewrites

[thatflatenedfrogontheroad]

I made a tier list...

please make your own!! I need to see boomer nations opinions on our man!!!! I know the tiers are actually so vile so change them if you desire :)))

OK so my quick blurb on why they are their!! (working worst to best)

28. Identity Crisis #5 - HE WOULD KILL ME FOR THE FUN OF IT. It did bring about the most random rivalry between Tim drake’s fandom and boomer's which is very funny

27. Black Lantern - Oh no… he's back… like a boomerang. Ate his own son... RIP…. L skill issue

26. Sliver Age - Would actually call me a slur and say that I don't deserve rights. He would hate crime me and then solicit me for sex. He looks like he's wearing a dress… what a pretty lady.

25. Flash TV Show - EWWWWWWWW, he though he ate...

24. DC Online - He looks like he would punch me in face at a NYC bus stop

23. White Lantern - Don't look at me like that… stop. He's back from the dead like a boomerang?? Something about most of the New 52 boomerangs don't hit the same. the bride all in white :’)

22. Young Justice - Gave me the ick. You might be thinking... he looks identical to SS hell to pay, why is he down here?? Great question… HE WAS SO CREEPY TO ONE OF THE GIRLS IN YOUNG JUSTICE….. WHO IS A MINOR!

21. Injustice Movie - Just because your in the background… doesn't save you from this list!!!

20. New 52 - Ok he's kinda hot if you look through your peripherals…Why are you wearing skinny jeans… you millennial

19. Harley Quinn TV Show - He's fine… just fine. “We’ll stack out bingo… Boomer loves an older woman” NO HE MUST LOVE ME! I AM VERY VERY MATURE FOR MY AGE

18. Flash: Sins of the Father - Can you please stop talking in the 3rd person… you are starting to sound crazy.

17. Most Wanted - I know jack shit about him. That's probably because he is barely in a comic issues THATS NAMED AFTER HIM!

16. Flash Point Paradox - His fight scene actually ate. I'm a sucker for Boomer being with the Rogues. If cyborg can take his belt off… so can I

15. Suicide Squad 2021 - Wow they somehow gave him even less lines than his first movie. 1. He doesnt look like boomer. 2. His accent is so bad… and hes AUSTRALIAN 3. His acting low key kinda mid 4. They killed off two of the only OG suicide squad members they had on the cast 5. He dies in the first 20min and in the most disrespectful way

14. Suicide Squad 2016 - The only good thing to come from this man is the fanfiction he brought. THIS FUCKING MOVIE MADE HIM A CANON BRONY WHICH I CAN NOT FORGIVE. GET THIS OUT OF MY SMUT BEFORE FREAK THE FUCK OUT >:( Fuck him and pinky too, you son of a bitch!!!! (its not that serious lol... i just want him to stop fucking a toy horse... please guys)

13. This Goober Alien Guy - I know nothing. He just kinda showed up… and I'm not mad just a little confused. He looks like he needs a hot chocolate and a hug :)))) 

12. Lego Batman Movie - Low key an icon. What I would do to get my hands on one of these sets… I would come close to killing someone for it

11. DC Lego Super Villains - If he wasn't Lego I would propose (Shane Dawson style) Once again what I would do for the very discontinued Lego set tie in…

10. Batman: Brave and The Bold - Those cheekbones could cut someone. Why are you wear a mini skirt… take it off ;)

9. Suicide Squad (comic) - Yes I know he was drinking and driving but he's not real so it doesn't count!!! The beginning of the Boomer Mobile! THE GAP TOOTH DUDE!

8. Justice League Unlimited S1 - AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA! Ok the hairline is… bad…. But so is mine twin!! I LOVE THAT THEY GAVE HIM PROPER CLOTHES AND NOT RAGS DUDE

7. Agent of Oz - is this picture is my school profile pic...yes… and??HE'S COVERED IN BLOOD AND IM GIGGLING!!!!!!!!!!!

6. Stjepan Sejic's Boomer - Choke hold and choke me...  I want to hear his voice but he can't break his mewing streak…The ungodly things I would let him do to me

5. Dark: Apocalypse War - Constantine! Boomer! GIRLS! GIRLS!! ILL SLEEP WITH BOTH OF YOU!!! I was not expecting him in this movie so I started to freak out when he showed up DUDE. PLEASE LET ME SIT ON IT

4. Suicide Squad: Hell to Pay - I'm a ride he wouldn't survive… I DONT HAVE WORDS TO DECRIBE HOW I FEEL DUDE… I WOULD DO ANYTHING HE ASKED FOR NO JOKE. Dead on the floor

3. Justice League Unlimited S2 - The glow up in REAL... had me on my hands and knees as a 3rd grader… and still on my knees today. I have never wanted someone to fuck me in the back alleyway of a shit bar so bad in my life

2. Batman: Assault on Arkham - The one that started it all… he is the reason I am this way. no lube, no protection, all night, all day, from the kitchen floor to the toilet seat, from the dining table to the bedroom BUT GREG ELLIS IS PUBLIC ENIME NUMDER ONE. YOU KNOW WHAT YOU DID!!!!

AND THE BEST ONE!!!!!!!! WE ALL SAW IT COMING

1. Suicide Squad: Kill the Justice League - I AM GNAWING ON THE IRON BARS OF MY ENCLOSURE!!!!!! He has it all, the face, the VOICE, the look, the character!!!!! It is hands down the most consistently good representation of captain boomerang out their… and its canon that's he has a big dick :D I would sell my first born to get one night…

Thank you all for reading this word vom, I am sick in the head <3

if any of the comic issues are off or something please let me know :)

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE make your our and tag me!! i need to see them <3<3<3

#captain boomerang #dc villains #digger harkness #george digger harkness #rouges #kill the justice league #captain boomerang x reader

[purgemarchlockdown]

I've mentioned before that I'm pretty sure Amane's family has a very...loose definition of what counts as an indulgence and what counts a vulgarity, and that the rule on vulgarity is probably the one she broke the most judging by the disrespect she shows it in Purge March comapred to all the other flags.

The iconography in both Magic and Purge March however move much closer to what seems to be perceived as vulgar though? Which, one, makes me wonder where Amane saw these things in the first place. I assume she was allowed television for a while before the TV got thrown out (if the tv in the background of Purge March is hers.)

I'd also assume her parents would monitor what she watches and cable isn't exactly Cheap. Maybe she watched dvds/recordings? Vaguely remember how some of my dvds looked when I scratched them....but aside from that that TV is Old, I've seen one similar to hers and while it's still kicking it's Barely working.

Second: Back at the iconography thing- if her cult considers amusement parks sinful then whatever is going on in Magic is probably on that level. Purge March isn't as "noticeably" sinful but it's also a colorful parade of confetti and costumes, and also some of the clouds are noticeably turned into cute little shapes like triangles and stars at the end.

(I Don't think this has much relevance, I'm pretty sure this is just an extension of the existing cloud symbolism. I'm pretty sure these shapes only appear after Amane goes to kill her mother so maybe it's Amane's magic touch on the punishment :D)

It's aggressively cutesy in a way. I think it's interesting that even this deep into Amane's Self-Hating Righteous Religious Journey where she's denying anything that could possibly be constructed as sin, to the point Purge March reskins her mindscape as this pure clean white. That this want stays anyway. It's interesting I think. Even at her most "pure" she can't really do it.

#milgram #amane momose #cw child abuse #cw cults #milgram thoughts

[stardustbarbarians]

Saints of Los Angeles

A Daniel Wagner / fem!reader fic

Summary: You never thought that meeting a Saint would cause you to sin.

Tags: kiss feminism goodbye (Policarpa I'm so sorry queen), smut (MDNI!!), objectification, oral (m/f receiving), unprotected sex, drug use, light bloodplay, dom!Danny

Trigger Warnings: Drug use, objectification, insulting language towards women

A/N: All the feminism left my body with this one, y'all. Please don't let the warnings scare you away too easily. Basically, its what you'd find in a Motley Crue song, which this fic is heavily inspired by. That being said, this is the hottest thing I've ever written. I really tried to challenge myself with this one. Title taken from Saints of Los Angeles by Motley Crue. As always, I hope you guys enjoy <3.

Words: 8.7 k

+++

This can’t be the place.

Checking your texts with Donna again, you confirmed that, yes, this was the place your friend said to meet her. Feeling completely out of your element in the seedy neighborhood, stood in front of the sketchy dive bar with neon signage, you clutched your purse a little tighter as you took a deep breath and stepped inside. 

It was just as you expected it to be, full of rowdy patrons pounding hard liquor like it was water. Most people didn’t notice your entry, the majority of those who did simply glanced your way with a hard look in their eye before returning to whatever they were doing before. Fighting back a shiver, you straighten your posture and head for the bar. 

“Tequila on the rocks, please,” you ordered, feeling eyes on the back of your head. The bartender busied herself with pouring the drink as you settled into an empty seat. 

“Mandi, get me a whiskey while you’re at it, sweetheart,” a male voice from behind you commanded, dripping with charm and charisma. Immediately, your hackles raised at his attitude toward the woman, noting how condescending it was. 

You couldn’t help rolling your eyes as he took the seat next to you, carrying the smell of cigarette smoke and mint with him. He seemed to notice your reaction and was unafraid to point it out. 

“What’s your fucking problem, princess?” He rested his forearm on the bar, peering over his shoulder at you. That’s when you finally got a good look at this stranger. You were ashamed of the way your breath caught in your throat, but you couldn’t help it. He had to be the most beautiful person you’d ever laid eyes on - which was saying something considering you lived in star-studded Los Angeles. 

He had long black hair that fell in tightly coiled ringlets around his face, a prominent nose with fierce eyes that burned with annoyance and malice. He wore a beat up leather jacket with a skin-tight black shirt underneath, dark denim jeans on his legs. Despite the fire in his eyes, they were a gorgeous hazel brown. And on top of all that, he had a smattering of freckles across his cheeks and the bridge of his nose. But then you saw the cigarette tucked between his fingers and all that went completely out the window as you felt disgust curl within your gut. 

“You smoking next to me, greaser,” you spat at him, grabbing the glass that had been set in front of you and taking a swig. It burned as the liquor slid down your throat, but it was one you were used to. 

“Oh, I see. We’ve got a perfect little goodie-two-shoes over here,” the stranger mocked, turning his body fully towards you. Seeing the idea form in his head as it came to him, you watched as he took a drag before blowing the smoke directly into your face. 

Coughing after you mistakenly inhaled, you swatted the air around you to try and clear it. “Disrespectful asshole,” you muttered between hacking. 

“What was that?” His teeth were gritted as he spoke, no doubt catching your insult. 

Making the decision that you’d rather deal with an angry Donna than this dive any longer, you just shook your head and made to leave. 

You didn’t get very far before you felt a hand grab your arm, tugging you around so that you came face to face with the beautiful stranger. The first thing you noticed was the dangerous glint in his eye. 

“I said, ‘what was that’?” 

Swallowing hard, you found yourself confused by the way your body reacted. Heat began to pool between your thighs as you looked up into his face. He was expecting an answer and you knew he wasn’t going to let you go without it. 

“Let go of me, you filthy rat!” You tried to wrench your hand out of his grip, but it was no use. 

The imposing stranger pulled you in closer by your waist. That officially marked the death of any personal space between you two. Your heart was racing. With your chest pressed against his, you could feel how firm it was. Now eye level with his lips, you noticed how plump and full they were. Even in the dark lighting of the bar, you could see they were a beautiful deep pink color. He seemed to notice that you were looking at his lips, flashing you a crooked smile that showed off his pristine white teeth, his canine tooth particularly sharp. You couldn't help but imagine what it would feel like nipping into the flesh of your skin. 

"You keep talking like that to me and see where it gets you, angel," the stranger purred, the cigarette tucked between his teeth bobbing up and down as he spoke. His voice sounded like honey saturated with smoke. It was so smooth and sweet, yet there was a raspiness to it that made you clench around nothing. The smoke from his cigarette curled in tendrils around his face, partially covering his eyes. You never were a fan of the habit, but for some reason, this stranger was exempt from your disgust. 

This time, it was your turn to observe him taking in your appearance. His smirk finally reached his eyes, a pleased look painting itself across his dangerously handsome face. The ache of wanting thrummed harder between your legs as his eyes fixated on your breasts. You felt like you were losing your mind; everything he was doing was every one of your turn-offs. Apparently multiple negatives made a positive. 

"What are you waiting for, kitten?" He removed the cigarette from his teeth with his left hand, catching a glimpse of his hand tattoos and silver jewelry - rings and bracelets - glinting in the neon of the bar. He blew the smoke in your face as his right hand slid down from the small of your back to the meat of your ass, his fingers fanning out and digging harshly into your flesh. "I didn't tell you to stop."

Gulping nervously, you realized just how deep you had dug your grave. There was no turning back now, and frankly, you weren’t sure you wanted to. You had lived a very sheltered life up until this night - the night you happened to walk into the wrong bar. You had always wanted to let go of yourself and take a dip into the wild side, and now, the wild side was quite literally pressing you against him by a vice grip on your ass. It was a golden opportunity dangled in front of you like a carrot on a stick; who the hell were you to look a gift horse in the mouth? 

“Get your filthy hands off me, you disgusting pig,” you spat, all the venom concentrated in your words and nowhere else in your body. You could feel your eyelids falling at half-mast, your hands smoothing themselves all over the stranger’s chest and landing on his large pecs. And maybe you even arched your back just a little bit to lean your ass into his grip, so what? This was absolutely the hottest thing to ever happen to you and you were going to milk it for all its worth, 

A low chuckle grumbled out of the stranger’s lips, feeling it in your hands. “You don’t mean that.” He didn’t take his eyes off of you as he ashed his cigarette onto the floor, the tip of it glowing from red to a yellow-orange as he took another drag. 

Feeling bold, you plucked the tobacco from his lips and placed it between yours. He couldn’t seem to hide the pleasant surprise in his eyes as he watched you take a drag of your own, blowing the smoke out of the side of his mouth. Pulling the cigarette away from your mouth, you let your hand hang to the side as you closed the distance between you two. The smooth velvet feel of his tongue against yours as you shotgunned the smoke to him made your head spin. You’d only ever seen it done in movies. They all failed to truly show the absolute rush you experienced from the act. You felt so dirty, so wrong. 

You’d never felt more alive. 

A whine passed between your mouth into the stranger’s just like the cigarette drag. You felt him pull away, opening your eyes in just enough time to see his roll into the back of his head, his eyelashes fluttering. There was an easy, toothy smile spreading across his lips. It was dripping with confidence and pleasure, but there was this quality to it that made you nearly flood your panties. As his eyes landed in yours - unfocused and blissed out - it seemed like he was looking directly into your soul and knew just how badly you desired him. With his free hand, he grabbed your chin. His thumb toyed with your bottom lip, pulling it down and exposing your bottom teeth. All you could do was look up at him through your lashes. He leaned his face in impossibly close; so close you were nearly going cross-eyed looking at him. That’s when you noticed the sinister glint in his eyes. It was one that promised you so many dirty and wicked things that you couldn't help but shiver at the sight. You were hurtling down a dangerous path, and you were just starting to realize how dangerous it was. 

“You’ve sealed your fate now, princess,” the stranger muttered, his breath smelling of cigarette smoke and the whiskey he was drinking. 

With one final hard squeeze of your ass, he removed his grip off of it and instead wrapped his left arm around your waist. He pulled you tight against his side, feeling his leather belt press into the bone of your hip. Grabbing his nearly forgotten drink off the bar, you watched as he downed it in one gulp, tilting his head back to expose a razor sharp jawline. You watched his adam’s apple bob before he slammed the glass onto the counter. Without any warning, he ripped the cigarette out of your hand and took one long drag, stubbing it out on the ice still sitting in his empty glass. 

“Hope you’re ready, doll.” That was the only warning you received from him before he slapped you hard on the ass. You yelped in surprise, your cheeks heating up as a few people around you turned to look. Smirking at your reaction, the stranger chuckled before pulling you along with him towards the staircase you noticed upon first stepping inside.

“Where are we going?” you asked after reaching the top of the steps. The lighting was vastly different than it was down the steps. Instead of vibrant neons and warm glowing string lights, the dark corridors were lit with sultry, yet vaguely off-putting red lights. Your nerves had been active since you entered the bar, but now they were turned up to eleven. There were a few doors opposite the bannister, all of them closed. You ventured a guess that they were all locked, too. 

“Listen, doll. I didn’t bring you up here to chat,” the stranger sharply bit at you, annoyance injected into his tone and pinching his features. He stopped at the last door at the end of the hallway, turning the knob and throwing it open. Using his hold on your waist, he shoved you inside, shutting the door behind him and locking it with a loud click. “So you best find a better fucking use for that mouth before I throw you out on the street in nothing but your high heels. Is that clear?” 

You hated to admit it, but that threat really got your motor running. You had to bite your lip to stave off the moan threatening to leap from your throat. 

“I said,” the man advanced on you. Each step he took forward, you took backwards until you couldn’t any more. Your back pressed to the wall, the stranger caged you in with his arms, his hand back to gripping your chin. “‘Is that clear’?”

You didn’t even get to say anything before he used the grip he had on your chin to nod your head for you. This put a pleased grin on his face again. “Good girl.” 

Your knees were weakened by the praise purred into your ear, his warm breath brushing against your skin. His command in mind, you found a better use of your mouth by pressing your lips against his once more. The noise that slipped from your lips originated from deep within the caverns of your soul.

Fire. Searing, scalding fire. 

That was the only way he could describe it, all you could feel. Each moment brought forth a new intensity that didn’t seem feasible, but proved to do just that. The burning heat that washed you from head to toe was so addicting. It was so intense that you felt your head spin from the pleasure. You knew at that moment that this night would be one you would talk about in years to come, the “best night of my life” kind of night. 

The only thing that pulled you away from the moment was your back colliding with a mattress. You had been so focused on the stranger that you had failed to notice there was a bed in the room. But there wasn’t much time to dwell on that before your shirt was being tugged off your body. You felt out of breath as he unhooked your bra and threw it across the room. 

His hands were warm, becoming very intimate with the callouses on them as he slid his hands up your stomach at a teasing pace. They stationed on your breasts, cupping them in his hands and kneading them. That’s when you finally were able to get a good look at the ink on his hands. The word “saint” had been etched onto his left hand, each letter appearing on its own finger. On his right was the word “sinner”, following the same pattern as the left one with the exception of the Ns fitting on his middle finger. A skull was painted on the back of his left hand, a butterfly on the right. You couldn’t see his arms, but you’d bet real money that they were covered in sleeves of tattoos. He seemed to notice you taking in his tattoos, a smirk on his face as you watched his pointer finger swirl around your nipple with a feather light touch. 

“Oh, god,” you exclaimed, throwing your head back in pleasure. 

“He’s got nothing to do with this, sweetheart. If you’re gonna moan out any names, it’s gonna be mine.” 

“Y-Yours?” 

The stranger huffed out a laugh that had no humor in it. With a simple flick of his pointer finger against your erect nipple, you let out a pathetic moan that amused him greatly. It seemed he enjoyed toying with you and seeing which reactions he was able to pull from you. 

“It’s Daniel. And make sure you scream it nice and pretty for me, angel. None of that other talking bullshit you were trying to pull earlier,” he informed, staring you directly in the eyes with an intense gaze that left no room for argument. 

Not trusting your voice, you nod your head. Daniel, you thought in your head, finally a name for a face. 

“Mine’s-”

“Frankly, hon, I don’t give a damn. Now hush, angel. Your beauty depreciates in value with each word,” 

Feeling slightly dumbfounded, all you could do was clamp your mouth shut with a knit in your brow. While you knew that was probably the most disrespectful thing you’d heard all night, you couldn’t deny the instant warmth that shocked the flesh between your thighs. 

“Alright. Let’s get started.” 

With that, Danny maintained eye contact with you as he brought his mouth to your nipple not being played with by his fingers. You gasped at the feeling of his warm, wet tongue lapping at your sensitive skin. It only lasted a second before he retracted, a devilish look in his eye. You couldn’t help but look at him, maintaining eye contact as he dabbed his tongue on it again, this time leaving it there. Just like with his finger, he swirled his tongue around the darker patch of skin with a feather light touch. You couldn’t control the mewls that kept falling out of your mouth, your head throwing back at the sensation. 

Just when you were starting to get antsy for more from Daniel, he surprised you once more by clamping his lips around the tip of your breast all while squeezing them between his fingers in tandem. It ripped a huge gasp from your lungs, your back involuntarily arching off the mattress. It felt as if he was controlling your entire body with his mouth, pulling reactions from you that you weren’t consciously conjuring yourself. As Daniel continued, your panting turned to moan after pathetic moan, each one more intense than the last. You were starting to feel as if you were about to burst from pleasure, your entire body tensing as something was building up inside of you. Your knuckles were starting to turn white as you gripped at the sheets and Daniel’s hair, respectively. 

Right when it felt as if that pressure was about to reach its breaking point, Danny detached his hands and mouth from your breasts. All of the sudden, you could feel that beautiful pressure rapidly falling and turning cold. 

“Daniel!” you whined indignantly, the grips of your hands relaxing but staying in their spots. 

“Pout all you want, kitten. You haven’t earned the right to cum yet,” he explained - rather condescending - as he stroked your cheek with his thumb. 

Is that what I felt? It wasn’t like you were a virgin, you’d been with other men before. However, you’d never felt that sensation before. 

“Have you ever sucked dick before, princess?” 

At the question, you felt your face instantly get hot. It was so crass. And yes, he had just spent the past few minutes lapping at your tits, but that question somehow felt more crude. 

“I-I-” you stuttered, still gobsmacked at the bluntness of his question. Closing your eyes and gulping, you found the strength to answer. “I- yes. But only once-” 

“Perfect.” Righting himself to stand up straight, Danny shed his jacket and tight shirt and tossed them onto the floor. Next came his belt, the metal of the buckle clanging as he slid the leather from the loops of his dark jeans. You couldn’t help but watch as he undressed, not sure what else to do. And really, it wasn’t like you weren’t enjoying the show. 

Just like you had suspected, his skin was a tapestry of artwork from head to toe. His arms seemed to have a theme of biblical depictions chalk full of skulls and death. His chest had a depiction of icarus falling towards the sea (which also was engraved into the skin of his abdomen), feathers cascading down his torso with some of them even captured in the process of melting. There was a sun inked into the skin just below his right clavicle with a painting of clouds surrounding it. It was a breathtaking piece that must’ve taken hours upon hours of work and definitely more than what your car was worth. Your eyes traveled down away from the icarus piece to his waistband, where both his happy trail and the tops of what looked like snake’s head peaked out from. Removing his pants and underwear in one smooth movement, you got to confirm that they were, indeed, snake heads you saw. On the inside of each hip were coiled up snakes with their fangs bared at each other, venom dripping from their flared forked tongues. That was probably your favorite tattoo of his, if you were being honest. 

While you were too busy ogling his tattoos, he grabbed you by the thighs and hoisted you up into his arms. Yelping in surprise, you wrapped your arms around him and tried your best to bite down a moan at the feeling of your bare chests pressed up against one another. He laughed at your reaction, the sound right in your left ear as he looked over your shoulder. He only held you for a moment before you felt the mattress underneath your legs again, Daniel having sat down with his back against the headboard. Your hips were perfectly on top of his, feeling his hard on through the fabric of your jean shorts. An idea sprang to mind, one that you enacted before even thinking it through too much. 

On their own accord, your hips rolled against Daniel. This caught him by surprise, a breath hissing through his clenched teeth as his eyes clenched shut. You felt his calloused fingers dig into the meat of your ass again as his hands flew from their loose grip on your thighs. When he opened his eyes, there was a dangerous edge in them. He flashed you a smile, but that was a loose definition. Truly, he was more bearing his teeth at you with a crooked grin. 

“Careful, peaches,” he warned with a growl, one of his hands slithering away from your ass to grab you by the jaw in a vice grip, “I don’t want to ruin that pretty face of yours.” 

That nearly made you rock your hips forward as warmth flooded your pussy again. However, you resisted by clenching your hands down on his shoulders. You felt like your teeth were going to shatter by how hard you were clenching your jaw. 

“Look at me,” Danny commanded as his grip tightened against your jaw. 

Doing as he commanded, you slid your gaze to your partner. 

“Pull another stunt like that and I’ll spank you so hard you’ll be able to find my fingerprints on your ass.” He accentuated his point by clenching his hand that was still on your ass. 

You whined at the extra pressure, the mental image of you bent over his knee while he smacked your ass so hard it left a perfect impression on your skin not helping. 

“In this room, I am your god. Whatever I say, you do it without any hesitation or sass. Understood?” 

Without realizing, you began nodding your head. Whatever he said. You just wanted to get that high back he gave you minutes ago that he dangled just out of your reach. You had gotten a taste, now you wanted the whole meal. 

“Such a good girl. Let’s see if you can keep it up,” he praised, his hand finally releasing your jaw. There was a smirk on his lips that showed off his sharp canine tooth. While your attention was on that, he pushed your hips down his legs. Eventually when they got too far away, his grip shifted to your shoulders. You got the message, his question from earlier popping into your head. 

Lifting your dominant hand up from the sheets, you made sure to make eye contact with Danny as you inched your hand towards his dick to silently ask if it was ok to do so. Getting impatient, Daniel grabbed your hand with his own and put it on his cock himself. At the touch, he let out a sigh of relief. Still holding your hand, he set the pace of your hand gliding up and down his shaft. It was fast and rough, but you got the idea that that’s how Daniel liked most things. 

Letting go of your hand after you got the idea, he used that hand in order to grab you by the hair. A sharp pain shot through your scalp from his grip. However, that didn’t compare to the pain of Danny yanking your head down and towards his cock. That you yelped in pain at. 

“Oh, save it, princess,” he barked before using his grip on your hair to press the tip of his dick to your lips. “I’ve got a better use for that mouth. Open up.” 

Swallowing down your nerves, you did as you were told. Looking him in the eyes, you parted your lips. Danny wasted no time shoving his cock in your mouth. The only thing that stopped him from shoving it all the way down your throat was your hand. With a frustrated growl, he used his free hand to rip yours away. He then stuffed his cock as far down as it could go, tears prickling at your eyes as it hit the back of your throat. Saliva immediately began to flood your throat as you gagged around him. You grabbed at his thighs with a tight grip, attempting to find any purchase you could as your head began spinning. 

After what felt like hours, Danny finally pulled you up off of him. Drool fell from your lips as you gasped deeply for air, a string of saliva connecting from your mouth to his dick.  

“Catch your breath, kitten. I’m just getting started.” He hovered you just above his hips, using the hand not fisted in your hair to brush your rouge locks from your eyes. It was a strangely tender moment from him; one you never would’ve expected from him. 

You only were able to breathe for a moment before he was stuffing his cock between your lips again. This time, you were able to take more of him as you relaxed your throat. However, you still gagged as he hit the back of your throat; though, you doubted you would ever be able to suppress that reaction. Daniel held you there for a moment, only pulling you up partially to quickly cough and take a breath. 

“Better hold on, princess. I can only hold back for so long,” Daniel warned right before he set his own pace. His hips bucked up off the mattress, making you audibly gag as tears formed in your eyes once more. The noise caused an amused chuckle to fall from his mouth. He may have started out slow, but that only lasted for about thirty seconds before he cranked up the intensity to eleven. He set a pace that was sure to leave the soft palate of your mouth bruised as he brutally pounded into your throat. Tears began to steadily stream down your cheeks, your hands gripping the skin of Danny’s muscular thighs hard enough to leave marks. 

“That’s it, baby, take it,” Daniel moaned in a gravelly tone, his head throwing back in pleasure at the sensation. That’s when he utilized the hold he had on your hair to skull fuck you even more fiercely, bobbing your head up and down in a way that complimented his thrusting hips. You weren’t sure how much more of this you could handle. Your eyes couldn’t seem to stop watering and your throat was screaming in pain. At this rate, he wold fuck your throat so hard you’d lose your voice. 

As if fate could hear your thoughts, Danny’s phone rang. With a growl, he reached over to the nightstand on his left and snatched it off the table. His pace had finally stilled, granting you a much needed moment of respite. He looked at the screen, sighing at whoever’s name was on it and begrudgingly answered. 

“What, Jake,” he bit with so much venom, you would’ve believed he hated this person. With annoyance pinching at his features, he listened to the caller talk to him. You could make out a few words here and there, but the voice was too quiet. 

Once Daniel got bored of listening, he once again started bobbing your head up and down, thankfully slower than the last time. His attention was still on the call as he used you. 

“He did what?!” Daniel yelled, his fist tightening in your hair as his anger spiked. You hummed out a moan at the sensation, causing his eyes to dart down to you. 

You heard Jake talking again on the other end. Even though you couldn’t pick out words, you could tell he was trying to diffuse the situation with Danny based on his tone alone. 

“I don’t give a shit if it was the fucking governor, Jake! We don’t give discounts!” 

At this point you had started to set your own pace. But, it seemed that wasn’t enough. As his agitation grew, so did his need for pleasure. 

“No. I’m done listening, it’s your turn. I want you to tell him these exact words, alright? You tell little Sammy that he better get the rest of the amount owed for the coke, or I’ll make sure that pretty little girlfriend of his never sells another record and lives the rest of her life on the fucking streets. Is that clear?” 

It finally clicked to you what he was talking about. Daniel wasn’t some ordinary dirtbag, he was a drug dealer. And not just any drug dealer, but the head of the most dangerous gangs in the city: the Saints of Los Angeles. You’d heard about him on the news: Daniel Wagner, the saint of Los Angeles. You would be appalled by how turned on that made you later on. But in the heat of the moment, that simply made you want to work harder to earn his favor. 

“Look, put it this way to him because I know that his head is just there for decoration - who is he more afraid of: the governor, or me?” Even though he said it in a very neutral tone, the sentence sent a shiver down your spine. 

Wanting his attention back to you again, you started to use your tongue. You were able to push back against his grip and pull up off him a bit, giving you more space to swirl your tongue around the girth of Danny. Not only did you start using your tongue, but you slid one of your hands away from his thigh and went for his balls. As soon as they were in your hand, Daniel let out a gasp of surprise, his gaze finally making its way back onto you. You felt giddy at the eye contact despite your better judgment. Continuing with your new added contact, you swirled your tongue around and played with his balls in tandem. It was just what he liked, it seemed, as he threw his head back and moaned. Now knowing with certainty that he was enjoying your attention, you hummed around him, pleased with yourself. Casting your eyes downward in order to better concentrate, that’s when you noticed another one of his tattoos. Written in block letters were two words right above his cock with an arrow pointing down at it. Choking Hazard, they said.

For the first time, you were able to make out what Jake was saying on the other end of the phone. “Are you fucking someone right now??” 

With a short laugh, Daniel thrust up into you again. “Yeah, I found a real pretty one down at the club tonight. Poor thing was all lost. She’s more your type than mine, but you know me; I can’t resist a set of huge tits.” 

“My type, huh?” Jake asked, his interest piqued. 

“Yeah, I’ll send you a picture.” Readjusting his grip on your hair, he pulled you up off his dick. You made a loud pop as you were pulled away, panting for breath and spit dripping down your fucked out lips. You could feel your eyes at half mast, sure that your mascara was running down your cheeks from your earlier tears. 

“Smile, princess,” Danny commanded after pulling the phone away from his ear. Once finished, he lowered you back down onto his cock. He kept his attention on the screen as you assumed he sent your picture to Jake. 

“Goddamn,” you heard Jake exclaim clear as day, Daniel having put him on speaker phone. 

“Uhuh, I told you,” Danny responded, gathering your hair up in his hand before thrusting into you again, “got a mouth as good as any pussy.” 

“Fuck,” you heard through the phone, “shit, I don’t think I’ve ever been this jealous of you.” 

That made Danny chuckle in amusement. “I can save some for you for later.” 

“So I get sloppy seconds?” 

“If you want. I’m feeling generous,” Daniel stated. You couldn’t see his face - your eyes focused on the Choking Hazard tattoo - but you could hear the smile in his voice. He punctuated his words with a buck of his hips, making you gag audibly. 

“Sounds like you are,” Jake responded, “but I can’t. I’m already in hot water with Jenna. If she knew I slept with another girl, I’d get skinned.” 

“More for me. Now if you excuse me-” 

“Yeah, yeah. Have your fun.” 

“Make sure you tell Sam exactly what I told you,” Danny reminded, his finger already hovering over the button. 

Jake sighed before promising to follow the order. With that, Daniel hung up the phone and tossed it back onto his nightstand. “Don’t work with family.” 

That was all he said before fisting his free hand into your hair and started setting a brutal pace for your throat again. More tears fell down your cheeks and so did more saliva. It was a big mess, but you didn’t find yourself being disgusted. Daniel was feeding into your deep, dark desire of wanting to be used like a toy. Finally, after it seemed like he was about to cum, he shoved you off his cock. 

“Alright, doll,” he breathed, struggling to remain composed, “enough playing around.” 

You felt your heart kick up a notch at the implications. If that was playing around - that rough face fucking you just endoured - what did getting serious entail?

Pulling you up, Daniel shoved his lips against yours. Almost immediately, he shoved his tongue down your throat. You whined at the feeling. Everything he was doing was making your head spin. You almost wanted him to stop, but the whirlwind you were caught up in was too much of a thrill to let go of. You had been the perfect little princess all your life and you wanted to take a ride on the wild side for once in your life. And god was Daniel wild. As if he could hear your thoughts, he grabbed you by the hips and settled them right in his lap. 

“Woah,” you muttered. You knew how big Danny was - he was just in your throat. But the realization just hit you that he was about to be inside of you. And if you had gotten a head rush before, you didn’t even know what to classify what just happened to you. Still gripping onto your hips, Daniel threw you down onto the mattress so that your chest was against it. 

“Get on all fours,” he demanded, smacking your ass so hard you were certain everyone downstairs could hear. You were also certain everyone downstairs could hear your yelp of pleasure. But, you followed his command, planting your palms and knees onto the sheets. 

Nothing happened. 

For a good twenty seconds, neither of you moved. You stayed in your place on the mattress, not moving. You didn’t want to get punished by Danny. However, your curiosity got the better of you when you heard the sound of a drawer opening. As you went to turn your head around, however, that’s when Daniel delivered another sharp smack to your ass. 

“No moving, princess,” he warned, his calloused hand smoothing over the smarting skin he just punished. His fingers inched towards the waistband of your underwear, slipping underneath the lacy material and pulling it up off your skin. Danny let go of the elastic snapping back into place with a quiet snap. At the feeling, you let out a shaky breath. Danny slipped his fingers into your waistband once again, but this time he tugged the material off your body using his free hand to pull your underwear off entirely, lifting up your knees one at a time. 

As soon as he was rid of your final piece of clothing, you felt both his hands come to rest on either one of your asscheeks. Soon to follow was his tongue; gasping sharply at the feeling. It was cold. But that wasn’t what made you gasp. It was his tongue piercing. For some reason, you either didn’t register he had one while you were kissing him, or you didn’t notice. But that wasn’t important. Daniel was clearly experienced, that’s what was important. He made sure to focus his attention on your clit, the ball of his piercing rubbing and swirling around it non-stop. You would’ve been embarrassed by the noises that came out of you if you weren’t so caught up in your pleasure. Your hands balled into fists in the sheets as you buried your head into the mattress, arching your back into him. His grip on your ass tightened, the pain adding just the right amount of intensity. 

“Daniel,” you cried after he sucked on your folds. It sent a shockwave throughout your body as you involuntarily rolled your eyes into the back of your head. At his name, Danny’s hands twitched. That was all you needed to know he was in the same boat you were: incredibly turned on. But he continued to relentlessly concentrate all his focus on that beautiful bundle of nerves. 

And there it was again: that glorious peak you saw moments ago. With each lap at your clit, you could feel yourself tumbling faster and faster towards the precipice - “Daniel, oh my god!” - and you were desperate to reach it. And it showed. Each breath you took resulted in a needy whine; chanting out Danny’s name like it was a prayer. And Danny showed no signs of stopping. Finally, you were going to know what it felt like. 

Until Danny cruelly ripped it away from you just like last time. You whined rather pathetically as you tumbled down from your high, turning your head slightly just in time to see the pleased smile on Daniel’s lips. However, you couldn’t deny how absolutely hot it was seeing him lick his lips while chuckling, his lips glinting in the light. You had never felt so wet before, a combination of your slick and his saliva dripping down your thigh. 

“You’re so mean,” you lamented, rubbing your thighs together for any friction you could manage. 

“Mmm, I love it when they talk dirty,” he moaned before righting himself on his knees. That’s when you felt the tip of his dick slide through your folds, a sigh releasing from deep within his chest. You didn’t have to wait long before you felt his tip resting at your entrance. You waited with baited breath for him to push all the way in, expecting him to shove it in all at once. You were surprised when he went slow, inching in and pausing at any sign of distress from you. 

“Alright, peaches, I’m all the way in,” he gasped, his left hand rubbing your back. You didn’t need him to tell you that to know. You could feel all of his cock inside of you, pulsating within your walls. 

Each tiny movement from him felt like too much, your vision whiting out as you panted heavily just to get used to the feeling of being filled to the brim. You could feel sweat already starting to accumulate on your skin. 

“Fuck you’re so fucking tight,” Daniel panted, seemingly out of breath just from your vice grip around his cock. You could feel his curls tickling your back as he bent over you, his hot breath ghosting across your skin. 

After you both caught your breath, Danny began to rock back and forth. Each thrust made you want to scream, his huge cock testing your limits with no mercy. His pace took a sharp increase after a minute or two. Soon, you were crying out in pleasure, screaming his name in the place of god’s. He was brutal, leaving no space for clemency as he drove into you with an organ pummeling velocity. 

When you reached a point where it was getting to be too much, Daniel stilled his hips. Sighing in relief, you were still left confused. Turning your head, that’s when you noticed a silver engraved tube in Daniel’s hand. You watched as he unscrewed the cap and dumped out whatever was inside on your back. It was hard to tell based on vision alone, but you felt him pour it out in a line before screwing the cap back on. It wasn’t until he bent over and you heard a snorting sound that you knew what just happened. 

Daniel had just done a line of coke off your back… while he was still inside you. A shiver traveled down your spine as the realization hit you. There was hardly any time for you to process that fully before Daniel went back to his brutal pace from earlier. You could feel your legs weakening and shaking, your mind slowly turning to mush. 

“Harder, daddy!” It was an accident. You hadn’t meant for it to slip out like that. However, Daniel seemed to like that. A lot. You felt his hips stutter at your use of the title, a growl slipping from his teeth. His hand gripped your ass so hard you knew you would find bruises there tomorrow. 

He didn’t say anything, however. Instead, he snaked his other hand up to your neck. With a vice grip, he yanked you upright by your throat so that your back was pressed fully against his front. He hadn’t slowed his hips at all. 

“Open,” he growled, the hand on your ass prying your mouth open. When you finally got the message, his fingers slipped out of your maw. They weren’t gone for long. Only a second later, you felt something else shoved between your teeth, recognising the material. It took you all of two seconds to understand that Daniel had stuffed your own panties into your mouth. As you tried to moan out at the realization, Daniel used the grip he had on your throat to shove your face back down into the mattress. This time, he came down there with you, keeping his lips next to your ear. 

“Such a fucking whore for me. You just met me and look where you are now, huh?” He thrusted particularly hard that time as if to punctuate his words. 

Even if you weren’t gagged, words wouldn’t have been able to leave your lips. Your brain had long since devolved into a singular thought: Daniel. So, naturally, that’s what you cried out. 

“God, you’re such a fucking good slut for me, kitten. I’ve never had pussy this good before,” he grunted. It was all getting to be too much once again. You could feel that rise in tension just below your stomach begin to build again. But unlike the other times, you didn’t let yourself show that you were getting close to that climax. You tried your best to remain quiet, biting down on your lip as you focused all you had on getting to that peak. 

Your silence gave you away. 

“Goddamn it! Let me cum, you fucking pig bastard!” you screamed in frustration. At least, you tried to. It actually came out in a bunch of muffled syllables that sounded nothing like any words in the English language. 

Daniel laughed boisterously at you. Laughing at you, not with you. “Awww, aren’t you precious?” 

With his right hand, he pressed onto your stomach. With more force than you deemed necessary, he forcefully flipped you onto your back. You grunted out petulantly, making it known you weren’t happy with what just happened. 

“You’re so cute when you’re mad, dollface.” 

You didn’t get to respond before he pushed back into you at the hilt. Whatever you wanted to say turned into a needy whine that you were not proud of. A wolfish grin made its way back onto Daniel’s lips. 

“What was that, darling?” 

Instead of dignifying that with a response, you just gave Daniel a look. 

“As much fun as it is seeing you all angry at me, I do miss you screaming my name.” With that, he fished your lacy panties out of your mouth, gagging as the material hit the back of your throat. 

“There. Isn’t that better?” he asked after balling the material up in his hand and setting it on the nightstand next to his phone. 

Instead of verbally responding, you simply nodded your head. 

“Someone learned their lesson finally,” he muttered under his breath. It was so quiet, you were positive that it wasn’t meant for your ears. 

Feeling bold - and more than a little frustrated with his treatment of you - you bucked your hips forward. You both groaned out at the feeling, Daniel sounding just a little surprised. Instantly, his hands flew to your hips, pinning them down on the sheets. 

“Don’t. Move.” 

There was a dangerous edge in his eyes that you hadn’t seen all night. It was one that struck true fear in your heart. Those eyes were ones that could take life away at any moment they wanted, ones that threatened the lives of his “family” with little to no remorse. You were once again reminded of the fact that you were letting the leader of the Saints of Los Angeles fuck you. 

Swallowing thickly, you nodded vigorously. 

Danny hardly dug his nails into your flesh briefly before he lifted his hands away from your hips. He soon busied himself with the silver tube from earlier, the cap unscrewing with a horrible squeal. He dumped the last of the powder onto the valley of skin between your tits, quickly screwing the cap back on before tossing the vial to the side. With his pinky finger, Danny arranged it into a line, tediously pushing it around and tickling your skin. When he was satisfied, Danny stuck his finger into his mouth in order to get rid of the excess powder on his appendage. The entire time he was making his line, you could feel his cock pulsating slowly inside your pussy. 

Popping his finger out of his mouth, Daniel leaned down and snorted once more. You arched your back against the feeling of his curls caressing your flesh, biting your lip at the sensation. You watched as Danny sighed out in ecstasy, a lazy, toothy grin slowly spreading across his lips as he tipped back, riding the high the cocaine gave him again. You noticed his eyes rolling back into his head as a bead of blood dribbled down from his nose.

Right as you were about to comment on the blood, Daniel began thrusting his hips again. Finally, that friction your pussy was craving was back, your head tipping back at the sensation. Just like before when he was riding the high from the cocaine, he set a brutal pace that you knew would make walking a chore the next day. But unlike before, there were so many guttural noises escaping Danny’s lips that he reminded you of a feral animal. 

At this point, your brain was starting to become so overwhelmed that you had to clamp your eyes shut to avoid sensory overload. Each snap of his lips produced a high-pitched whine from your throat, sounding pathetic to your own ears. Ashamed, you muffled the noises by taking your bottom lip between your teeth. You were biting down so hard that you were afraid of drawing blood.

Daniel didn’t take too kindly to this. 

With an especially deep growl, Daniel grabbed you by the throat, feeling all of his rings dig into your flesh. It wasn’t a gentle touch in any sense of the word. You knew that he had the strength to crush your windpipe in his grip and was just barely stopping himself from doing exactly that.

Your eyes flew open in surprise. His nose was inches away from yours, almost having to cross your eyes to focus on him. 

“Sing, darlin,” he growled. There was a predatory glint in his dark eyes, one that reminded you once more of exactly who you were dealing with. While you weren’t necessarily afraid for your life, you didn’t exactly want to press your luck. 

“Fuck yes, Daniel! Oh, fuck!” 

You didn’t think it was possible, but Daniel began pounding into you ever harder. You were beginning to fear your internal organs would liquify at this rate. However, that was merely a brief flash of a thought before your brain’s circuits were once again overloaded with sexual pleasure. 

While you were gasping out Danny’s name and seeing black spots start to make pockmarks in your vision, that’s when he spat directly onto your face. It was warm as it slowly dripped down your skin. It didn’t get the chance to cool before Daniel took his free hand and smeared it over your face before pushing his fingers back into your mouth. 

Blood. 

That’s what you tasted as he shoved his fingers down your throat so far it made you gag, chuckling darkly at your noise. That sharp metallic taste on the back of your tongue sent a surprising jolt of arousal straight to your core. You flicked your eyes away from the ceiling to Daniel’s face. Your suspicions were confirmed; his nosebleed had dripped all the way to his lips and was showing no signs of stopping. 

Not fully understanding your own actions and going on instinct alone, you threaded your fingers into Daniel’s curls and pulled him into your lips. You needed more of that rush, quickly becoming addicted to the thrills he was giving you. The kiss immediately turned sloppy and heavy, his hand relieving the slightest bit of pressure off your throat. 

Even as your circulation was returning to your brain, you felt you heard start to spin at the taste of his blood. That tension in your pussy was building again, a rubber band ready to snap. 

“Please,” you breathed out after pulling away enough. 

“Please what?” he hissed, a sly smile pulling at his lips. He knew exactly what you were asking but wanted to hear you beg. 

“Please daddy, please let me cum. I can’t take it much longer-” 

“Do it, princess. Make it a spectacle for me, you whore.” 

It was all you needed. Like the breaking of glass, you felt something in you shatter as you finally were able to feel that peak Danny had been dangling in front of you all night. The noise of pleasure that pushed its way from your chest was whiny and desperate. You felt your entire body turn into static as your vision whited out. 

You were vaguely aware of Daniel reaching for his phone, his flashlight turning on as he recorded a video of him pounding mercilessly into you. You felt a slight twitch in your core, understanding that She was into it but unable to give much after what just happened. 

“Fuck yeah, such a perfect slut for me.” Daniel’s tone was raspy as his hips began to stutter. A deep growl ripped from his throat before he went completely ridgid, feeling his cum spilling deep within you. 

His curls curtained in front of his face, the light from his phone pointed down at your body as his head was hung. You watched him pant for breath through your lashes, beads of sweat rolling down his body. 

After a moment, he pulled out of you. Both of you groaned at the unpleasantness of the feeling. Daniel pointed his camera down at your fluttering hole, feeling his cum drip out slowly. He stopped recording shortly after, the room going dark again with the absence of the flash. 

“I’m not paying fucking child support if you get knocked up.” 

That was the last thing Daniel spoke to you that night. However, it was far from the last time you would ever speak to him. 

+++

Taglist: @doodle417 @sammykiszkasunusedshoes @jmks-housewife @alwayssotiredbutneverofyou @ageoferin @etoilesnoor @ascendingtostardust @godlygreta @s0livagant @gretavanflowerpower @morganic-goods @dannythedog @baguettejuliette @fan-girl-97 @gaby-gvf @age-of-nyahh @mzbrightside @myownparadise96 @xserenax-13 @sammysvanfeet @strugglingtodoshit @loofypoofy @chalametpwk @seventieswhore @razorbladekiszka @unfortunatelykristin @welightthefire @gretavanfleas @sammiejane22 @satanplayshisfluteforhim @starsasone @mintysammykiszka @writingcold @tearsofbri @teddiie @gardensgatedaisy @sparrowofthedawnsworld @angelbabyyy99 @whollyfreeamongststars @gretaswhore28 @l0rdoffli3s @kay-jordan @lightmyloverry @kenzie18 @gotavansleep @roosterbbradley @freckled-wonder @flower-power-anthem @Gabyvanfleet @Sarakay-gvf @Mamalikes-gvf @josh-iamyour-mama @st4rdust-ch0rds @fallonfatality @earthlysorrows-backup @jessicafg03 @rossy1080 @hippievanfleet @spark-my-nature @hayley1623 @schleeble @gretavanflipflop @mehboihourz @jakeydoesit @busybeingtrash

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#greta van fleet #greta van fic #danny wagner #danny gvf #daniel robert wagner #danny wagner x y/n #danny wagner x reader #smut smut smut #jake kiszka #jake gvf #sam kiszka #sammy gvf #josh kiszka #josh gvf

[hyenahunt]

Obbligato: The Punishment of Kaname Tojo - 9

Writer: Akira

Season: Spring, two years ago

Characters: Tatsumi, Kaname

Proofreading: Remi (JP) & honeyspades (ENG)

Translation: Peace

Tatsumi: We are mirrors of one another, kindred souls.

[Read on my blog for the best viewing experience with Oi~ssu ♪]

Location: At the same time, on the stage of Reimei Academy's "Third Auditorium"

Tatsumi: "My beloved peers of Reimei Academy, thank you for coming."

"I, Tatsumi Kazehaya, have something of great importance to tell you all today."

Kaname: ......

Tatsumi: (Whispering) Hm... They don't seem particularly pleased, though I expected as much.

The Special Students don't seem to like how I’m speaking on my own at the moment. If it wasn't for your persuasion, HiMERU-san, I don't believe any of them would have shown up.

Kaname: I didn't really persuade them, I just gave them money.

Or rather, I gave them the job of gathering here as an audience, with a promise of receiving more concessions and such for their future work.

The time for compassion and persuasion has long passed, Tatsumi-senpai.

Tatsumi: Not so. I'm certain that anyone who isn't a Special Student must feel sympathetic — look at everyone who's come who won't be getting a cent out of it.

Kaname: That's because they're still expecting great things from you. They have hope you might be able to change this hellhole of a school.

Tatsumi: ......

Kaname: Anyway, let's stop chit-chatting and return to the topic at hand. The money I tossed around will be a waste otherwise.

Kaname: ... In the end, I wasn't as beloved as you were.

Reimei Academy's Top Idol. It feels like a position I just bought rather than earned. The academy's higher-ups would give me plenty of money...

And using that, I simply got to where I am today. But in the end… no one, not a single person, loved me the way they did you.

Do you hate me for learning such dirty tricks, Tatsumi-senpai?

Tatsumi: Of course not. In fact, I believe that knowledge must be your strength — I respect you for doing what I could not.

Kaname: You really do speak from the heart. Don't ever become like me, senpai.

Remain as pure as you are in this moment.

Better yet, I'll do all I can to ensure that you do.

I've made up my mind. Maybe I am an idiot, but in my own stupid way I've thought desperately of what I could do and chosen my own path.

I want to die for your ideology.

With you as a model for sainthood, I'll become a bit of a better person than I am now.

Tatsumi: I am not a saint, however...

If someone believes in me, if they expect something of me, then I shall act as they wish. Though it would be disrespectful to myself — though it is most certainly a sin to the body as a vessel of life...

If it would make others even a little bit happier, then I will gladly wear a crown of thorns.

Amen.

Tatsumi: "— Students of Reimei Academy."

"Are you happy right now?"

"I would like each of you to put your hand to your heart and truly give my question some thought. Are you satisfied with the life you've lived thus far? Are you lacking in something? Do you feel as if you've experienced misfortune?"

"No matter your answer, I ask that you listen to my announcement until the end."

"I have decided that HiMERU-san and I shall form a unit from today on, for the sake of bringing a little more happiness to the Academy.

"Fufu. Those of us in Reimei Academy might not be too familiar with such a concept, of course..."

"However, the concept is more normalized within another long standing idol training school, Yumenosaki Academy."

"In short, an idol unit is exactly as it implies: rather than doing things individually, he and I shall be performing them as a group."

"A 'unit' shares a common destiny. They are alike to a family, company, or even a nation."

Tatsumi: "We are mirrors of one another, kindred souls."

"As we move together from hereon, all that we earn will be distributed fairly among our members."

"Those who have previously joined me in the catacombs will understand what I mean when I say that."

"However, those who are Special Students may not be as aware of this arrangement. In Reimei Academy, our rewards are based on how well we do individually; it's a very result-focused system."

"I'd like to ask that all Special Students adhere to this arrangement from here on. Our unit shall not allow any one person to monopolize wealth nor to run wild on their own."

"In doing so, we shall seek a joyous future where one and all can live together fairly."

Tatsumi: "... I see there's some pushback. You may be asking yourself, ‘Why should I work for others when I can simply work for myself? Why should they reap the rewards I sow?’"

"However, this is the best way forward. Let us say, as an example, that you make a mistake or incur an injury and can no longer work."

"Or rather than earning money, you find yourself falling into debt."

"Our unit would never abandon anyone to such a fate."

"By taking responsibility on behalf of the individual affected, we will compensate for their losses and ensure that no one falls victim to circumstances outside of their control."

Tatsumi: "The present day idol industry is on a decline. As a result, there are numerous pitfalls that can cause one to fall to ruin; we'd like to support one another in such times of despair, to overcome them."

"No, we absolutely must support one another if we wish to survive. Unfortunate as it is, we have already been driven to such a point."

"I'm sure some of you have already realized that by now."

Tatsumi: "This is Hell. We aren't able to live as we once did, not when the end is nigh."

"It is already so difficult to breathe — and if you allow your attention to slip for even a moment, you face miserable repercussions immediately."

Kaname: " — We wish to change that."

"From this moment on, we are inviting you all to form a unit with us."

"Through a simple process, you will be welcomed immediately as one of ‘us’."

Tatsumi: "And finally, the most important point: all are welcome to join us, whether you are a Special Student or not."

"Unfortunately, as it stands... We, who are Special Students, and those who are not, dislike each other immensely."

"I'm certain that there will be a great many who won't wish to work together."

"However... If you can, please swallow your doubts and walk with us. I firmly believe this is the only path towards a happier future."

"Ideally speaking, we'd like to make every student in Reimei Academy part of our unit — and in doing so, have a truly fair and just school."

"All would work, and all would reap the rewards sown equally."

"At present, you gain only a little by stepping on the backs of others so arrogantly — it's a deplorable practice, so let's stop it."

"If it continues, then the disparity will never disappear. If we do not strive to create an impartial environment, then there will always be those who are fated to be trampled on."

Tatsumi: "I don't wish to witness such a sight any longer."

[ ☆ ]

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#enstars #ensemble stars #enstars translation #hyenahunttl #s: obbligato #tatsumi kazehaya #kaname tojo

[danses-with-dogmeat]

🐍🐕 Joshua Graham for “I should have never trusted you.”? I love your work

"Wait I messed up the angst thing is deathclaw, sorry I did not look close enough for the Joshua Graham one 😩"

FINALLY I get to be mean to this awful man, omg.

Okay, sorry, had to get that out. No, but I think Joshua is an endlessly interesting character to explore, but... yeah, not the most morally correct of fellows, so it's nice to be able to call him on it 😅

But anyways, I hope you like it!

"I was wrong about you." Six said hollowly, their eyes distant as they peered down into the sand.

"Six..." Joshua's smooth timbre, muffled slightly by the linen cloth that shielded his features, passed over their ears. It was as soothing as the day they'd met him.

The day where he began to convince them of his righteousness, the justness of his cause, how far he'd come in his own personal journey towards the light. It all was the reason he was living, when anyone else would have perished, the reason for leaving the Legion, it was the purpose he was meant for. How could the courier have denied him? When the evidence was burned upon his flesh for anyone with eyes to see, or with hands to feel.

A missionary, bringing the glory of his beliefs to the indecisive tribals of the surrounding lands beyond New Canaan.

He was doing them a favor.

Saving them from themselves, from their sinful, heathen ways.

How could I have been so blind?

The courier's head shook, still in disbelief at their own ignorance.

"You never changed. You just... Don't have the Legion behind you anymore, but you're doing the same shit that began it."

"You're wrong." His voice was low now, dangerous, filled with the same cool fury they saw flashing in his stark, blue eyes. "Sallow would never be able--"

"Caesar and you are the same." They interrupted with a groan, "You both started the practices that became the Legion together. The violence, the disrespect for anything that doesn't resemble your ideal culture, imposing your ideas onto anyone misfortunate enough to align with the paths you've mapped across the Mojave. Using them to your advantage with no consideration of what is truly best for them, for their people."

"We've done more for the tribals of these lands than you could've ever imagined. Their lives were chaos, they were devoid of meaning, bleeding sin and uncertainty. I'm providing them with a path. A road to the righteousness that--"

"Oh, bullshit! That's your own perspective talking, Joshua. Did any one of them actually consent to your manipulation? To taking your beliefs as their own? To their wives becoming slaves? Their sons becoming soldiers? Their men being forced to fight for you or die?"

The former Legate bared his teeth below his bandages, his scowl scrunching the space between his eyes in a vicious snarl.

"That was the Legion. Alone, I have made no such threats, taken no such action. I've only provided opportunity."

"Only because you don't have the manpower. What happens when you gain followers once more? When the Dead Horses rally behind you, as they've already started doing? Just like the Blackfoots once did with you and Caesar. Then whose to stop them, to stop you? When the pillaging and raping and forced assimilations all begin anew in the name of some righteous being that they may or may not even believe exists?"

Joshua recoiled at the vision they painted for him, at the future they saw for him, the one he'd have died getting away from if the Lord hadn't spared him for this new purpose.

How could they not see it his way?

The glory and mercy of God saved me from a cruel and terrible fate. Do they not see that that is exactly what I want for the tribals? The Dead Horses welcomed me, and provided an answer to the violence that took place in New Canaan. How could I not take advantage of this opportunity the Lord so plainly provided me with?

He saw nothing wrong with his plans. He would gift the Dead Horses with the glory of his God, with the knowledge to save them from the fiery pit of hell in the afterlife. He would bring them to righteousness, to understand that their way of life is wrong and wretched by comparison, that suffering in the next life is inevitable if they do not follow his teachings and do as he bids them.

He would save them, as God once spared his wretched life.

And in return, they would help him avenge the deaths of the good people of New Canaan.

A small favor for what they receive in return.

His work is anything but the selfish conquering the Legion has practiced since they lost their way, all those years ago.

"If you do not see the reason behind my actions," He began, trying in vain to keep his voice level, "Knowing my past and my story, knowing full-well what God's grace is capable of, then I cannot help you."

Six sighed then, and Joshua's eyes narrowed in expectation.

"I never should have sought you out." They whispered, shaking their head as they spoke, "Never should have trusted you. I should have known that anyone responsible for the horrors that the Legion has wrought all across the Mojave and beyond would never truly change."

"The fact that you do not believe I have changed only proves your ignorance. You did not know the man I was before..."

"But I did."

Joshua's brows furrowed, his covered lips poised for a searing response.

"Maybe not personally," They continued, "but you told me everything about yourself. The monster you once were, how much better you are now, but if that's true... I can't imagine how horrid you must have been, how truly delusional... to be able watch everything, to participate in everything the Legion has done."

"Then you must not have been listening." He spat the words, as though it pained him when they left his throat.

"Still, then..." Six's voice was calmer now, the initial venom sucked out by Joshua's admittance, "With everything you've done, everything you have and haven't admitted to when you were in the Legion, do you really think... that you deserve a second chance?"

Now Joshua sighed, suddenly looking so tired at the thought of defending himself and his actions of his own accord.

"Who am I to argue with my creator?" He asked them simply, "And who are you to question the will of God the Almighty?"

Six's brows hardened over their eyes as they firmly held his gaze.

"Someone who thinks, no matter what your God says, that no man who is comparable to Caesar should ever get a second chance."

Joshua surprised them as a noise akin to a slight chuckle sounded through his wrappings.

"To that, courier, I say it is only righteous to hate the sin, but to still love the sinner. For, if I am able to do so, even after all that Sallow has done to myself personally, is that not worth something in your eyes?"

#1.5k celebration #1.5k event #fallout #fallout companions #fallout npc #fallout new vegas #fallout new vegas companions #joshua graham fonv #joshua fonv #fallout joshua graham #deathclaw

[sparklingself]

hello! i just wanted to share something i've been reflecting on lately: guilt. i think for some of us, that's one of the reasons why we can't seem to be able to manifest what we want. i feel like it's especially hard to break free from guilt bc if you're like me, feeling guilty proves to yourself that you're good (or not too bad, at least), bc if you were truly bad you wouldn't feel guilty. it's hard not to cling to misplaced guilt bc it feels right. i'm not speaking about feeling guilty bc you've hurt someone or damaged something that wasn't yours, since in this case feeling responsible for it and reasonably guilty is natural. it helps maintain peace within the group. no, i'm talking about feeling constantly guilty for existing, for struggling, for making mistakes without meaning to, for eating this or that, for not wanting things you think you should want or for wanting things you think you shouldn't want, for not always being as kind as you wish to be, for suffering, for not doing this or that, for worrying your parents… you get it. basically feeling constantly guilty bc you believe you'll only deserve not to feel guilty when you become a saint or perfection personified, when you'll never do anything that could bother someone else directly or indirectly again. as you can imagine, you'll probably never become that (unless you cut all ties and go live all alone on a deserted island, but even then, that will surely sadden your close ones, so…). therefore, you stay stuck in this guilt. you can't make it go away because you can't exactly repair most of those things. you can't repair being human, right? but there's something called punishment. if you feel constantly guilty like that, you'll look for punishment - consciously or not. and because to you, feeling guilty means you're not a bad person, you agree with this feeling and with the fact that you deserve to be punished, in one way or another. i'm so sorry if it's all over the place, but for some of us i feel like this constant feeling of misplaced guilt is what makes manifesting difficult. i'm not religious but it's like we believe we're sinners no matter what, and sinners must repent. so our outer realities reflect that: guilt itself may be a punishment, not getting what you want may be a punishment, feeling depressed and aimless may be a punishment, "failing" may be a punishment, being treated with disrespect may be a punishment, others guilt-tripping you may be a punishment. anything. so, for some of us, letting go of this guilt might be the key. I have to admit I don't know how to do that very well yet, but recognising you feel guilty over nothing, that you don't need to be punished and that 'not feeling guilty' doesn't equal 'being bad' are first steps. and you can take responsibility without drowning yourself in guilt. further than that, dare not to feel guilty. acknowledge the existence of this feeling within you but dare to tell it it's not relevant. dare to disagree with the guilt, even if it feels uncomfortable or wrong. i guess you can even imagine someone telling you that you're not guilty, that you don't need to be punished, and that you're good. i'm gonna tell you myself: you're good. you existing and everything that comes with it is not a sin. you don't need to blame yourself to be good. you're good as you are right now.

sorry for the rambling lol, but i hope this helped anyone a little!

thank you for your thoughts and input🤍

i’ve struggled with guilt and i still do time to time, but loa has really improved my well-being and not feeling guilty in that sense. i have the habit of blaming myself and doubting myself a lot. but the beauty of loa is that when you’re in that mindset of the physical merely being a mirror, it doesn’t matter. say you say something you regret. you can revise it. it doesn’t matter anymore. all you ought to do is remove it from your consciousness by replacing it with something else. and you needn’t feel any guilt. in fact, speaking of sin, neville proposes that the feeling of guilt or any feeling that doesn’t let you experience your desires is sin. it can be a long process, but through constantly working on yourself, trust me, your self-worth will improve.

#ask #law of assumption

[cursedfortune]

“  i told you, i’ll love you no matter what. i’ll wipe the blood off your skin. i’ll clean the dirt off your hands from every grave you dig. i don’t care if you’re a monster.  ”

My Brand. @fallesto

It was all in ruins. Systematically they had brought the capital to its knees. It yielded, finally. They had played the game of politics and won fairly. Changes were made, little by little. Nobles went missing, laws were altered - as if she'd be told what to do, who to marry. They had spent so long alone only to find one another. The others spoke unfairly of him to him face and behind his back.

"Your knights seems quite... obsessed."

Black eyes turned upon the first prince they had produced to stand before her. He spoke of how close they seemed to be and because of it she turned him into a frog. Tossed the once prince into the pond outside of her window to watch him suffer within his new habitat.

"That knight of yours is very unusual looking. Such bizarre features on an average face."

The next one commented, unable to understand how a man so lean could be capable of wearing full armor when need be. She made him an especially ugly toad and threw him into the pond with the last one.

Regulus was not the only one who would not stand for such things.

That was her husband they insulted! He loomed closely behind or beside her at all times. He went where she went as often as possible. Her most trusted companion. With good reason, of course, given they were married already.

When the time came to reveal themselves - that the people of the nation elected a witch to lead them, one paired with a sin archbishop, they were stunned. And then, inevitably, they retaliated. It was as expected, in truth, seeing the mortals prove they were incapable of following their own rules.

Their retaliation was met with her swift hand before Regulus even had the chance to clean sweep the angry mob. She could accept their fear and anger at her, at the power of a witch. What she could not accept was how shallow and disrespectful they had been to him during this entire campaign to play by their rules.

Time and effort went in to behave how they did, to go through the steps and follow their system. To win fairly, justly. To be what the people both wanted and needed - and look at that, they had won fairly. Yet that wasn't enough in the face of this world's prejudices.

The open court she held to hear their protests, their feelings on the matter ended when she abruptly painted the room red with them all. As she had listened, one by one she collected the needed strings of their life forces with unseen and deft fingers. The moment she had enough all of them were tugged at once, entropy called upon gruesomely as she tore open their vessels and spilled their insides out.

The floor, the drapes, the walls were covered. She, too. After going down to their level, to appeal to them and see if commonalities could be found... it would seem the only ones that existed was the violence they felt towards her and that she felt towards them.

Not that it mattered now.

"I'm done." The witch declared to no one but her husband who was left standing there. Alive, well. Behind her by the throne still, clear of the blood splatter. As he deserved. Her words was the only warning he had before she walked to the large doors and pushed them open with ease, the sound of an angry mob just on the other side.

A few seconds was all it took before people up front began realizing her bloodied state and how red the room she exited from now was. A few seconds was all it took for her to kill a chunk of the crowd.

Flicking curses upon the people was too easy. Tossing some upon the overhanging chandelier of the large corridor, upon the torches on the wall and watching as they came undone upon the people took little effort. Black eyes watched the fire arise and took advantage of it - carving her way through the angry mob.

Systematically they had won this nation and offered it prosperity and life under the rule of a witch and archbishop. Their refusal benefitted no one. Out front she accepted the challengers that came her way and fought them without a weapon, using her bare hands to demoralize and intimidate further the population. Bones broke under her grip, weapons shattered, flesh was torn open when she clawed at those that announced themselves as their enemies.

"Your fields will be plagued. Your families will starve. Your wells will dry up. Your protectors will fall. Either the people yield and kneel or this kingdom will come to house only two souls within it."

It was a promise. A curse. One that took effect as she stayed within the courtyard, bringing death to anyone that came to challenge their rule.

So often she allowed her husband to protect her, because he wished to. He felt it was his duty to use his ability in such a manner. He had heard only from his wife of her exploits back where she hailed from, he had seen little of the menace she could be. How bloody she was willing to become. For him.

There was much Mortem would endure on her own but when it came to having a spouse, she found her tolerance decreased quite a bit. She had no patience to works things out beyond what they had tried. An olive branch had been offered and denied. It was the most she was willing to do and now there was no reason she had to hold back.

Only when her opponents ceased to come forth did she finally sit upon the ground and feel... empty. The entire time her sole focus had been on keeping track of where Regulus was and systematically breaking their enemies until no one else came forth. A great curse befell the kingdom; the wells were drying up, the farms were rotting, so many knights had been slain.

Her dress was in shambles, revealing much of her marked skin beneath. Runes and sigils that allowed her to do what she just did. Blood dripped from her hair and face, even when she wiped it away it seemed almost endless. Wounds she had received in combat healed seconds to minutes after the fact. Even when they attempted to fully decapitate her she marionetted herself until her wound sealed shut once more, allowing her full mobility once more. It didn't matter how deep their weapons went, what they cut off - she sneered through whatever pain she could still feel and endured. Regenerated, kept going as if she was an endless beast bearing an awful burden.

Monster! They had screamed as their final words.

Words that still echoed in her mind here and now as she caught her breath. What her husband had been doing as she fought was not something she had fully taken into account - only paying attention of where he was. Like she knew to look up upon feeling him before her, white shoes reddened. A single white glove offered to her.

“  i told you, i’ll love you no matter what. i’ll wipe the blood off your skin. i’ll clean the dirt off your hands from every grave you dig. i don’t care if you’re a monster.  ”

He didn't lie. The moment she accepted his hand and was pulled to a stand, the other wiped away the blood and grime from her face. The absence of feeling dissipated as she remembered this wasn't like her world. She wasn't solely enforcing change that needed to happen and alone in her journey. Warmth sparked in her heart, the burdens of her own nature soothed and eased.

Fingers laced with his as she drew him away from the sight of corpses at their front door. Through the hallway of carnage and back into an equally gruesome throne room - death was everywhere. Death was brought in his name.

The witch brought him before the chair that held all the power in this nation. To gaze upon it for a long moment before she pushed him to sit upon it. Her meaning was as clear as she felt it to be. This was his just as much as the one he had made for her back home. They'd share it as they'd share everything.

"You've spilled so much blood for me." Mortem spoke as she climbed onto his lap, her hands coming to cradle his face. He could remove the blood without any effort, she wasn't all that concerned over the mess. Not when there were more important matters to focus upon. No, if anything it was a token of her love. A testament to the lengths she'd go to in order to protect and adore him.

The witch leaned down from where she sat perched on her knees, straddling his lap. Crimson and plum locks interwove with his pale ones as her forehead kissed his, "This blood I wear I spilled in your honor. I had said before that by the end of this, we'd be able to walk freely. Even if it means killing all of them, I'll make it happen. No one in this world will look at you poorly again. Reverence or fear, I won't tolerate anymore of their nonsense. I'm done with them." Their hypocrisy would no longer be tolerated.

Her head tilted, stealing a tender kiss - eyes that had once burned with such fury were soft in gazing upon him. Only him. "I love you, Regulus." It was spoken with such emotion. Conviction. Promise. He was the only one who understood. This world was forfeit to their wills. They had tried to play nice and met resistance. They tried, truly. Mortals would not force her to marry nobility, they would not bend either of them to their laws. Enough was enough when it came to playing along with their practices.

The coldness she possessed before was gone. Her heart was alight with passion for her king, her one true love. And if this kingdom would not yield after insulting them, then she'd watch it wither into nothingness. It was no burden to her to watch them kill themselves and make a blank canvas for them to create with.

She was grateful he was at her side. The only one who ever understood the witch, the only one who would ever understand him. Accept one another. Love one another. His greed would be fed, her beloved would never go hungry. Not when she had so much to give.

#fallesto #asks #put under a readmore because it got lengthy lmao #god i feel so brain dead i hope this reads right. i just needed to WRITE A THING :')

[eradicatetehnormal]

I Just Watched 1976's Carrie For the First Time. //SPOILERS, I GUESS//

I really liked it! It wasn't what I expected. Coming from a time where slasher films come out every 1-2 years and have oversaturated the market, I expected Carrie killing her classmates to be 2/3rds of the film. I didn't realize it was all going to be saved for the very end. With that, it made the movie feel more like a tragedy and less like a horror. Carrie didn't even get to survive in the end and torment more assholes, what the fuck? Also, why was that one teen girl the only one who got to make it out alive? Why couldn't the teacher? She was the only one on Carrie's side the entire time...

Very brief summary: Carrie's in the locker room when she has a first period. She walks out of the lockers and starts screaming asking everyone to help her, to which the girls respond by throwing pads and laughing at her. The gym teacher walks in and scolds them all, aftward giving Carrie a week off from the gym. Carrie is sent home and is shunned by her religious mother, who never told her about periods and is now telling her to pray and ask for forgiveness. The gym teacher punishes the rest of the girls by giving them a week-long detention for intense workouts. Some bitch, whose name I forgot says she's not going to take it and storms off. Another girl, who resented the way she treated Carrie asks her boyfriend to ask her to the prom. He does, and naturally, Carrie thinks it's a joke and so does the gym teacher, who scolds them. Carrie does, however, turn around and accept his invitation. She sews herself a nice dress and is once again scolded by her mother, but she uses her supernatural powers to subdue her (Did I forget to mention that? She has powers! So far though, she only used them to break things and push her mother).

Afterward, she heads out to the prom and has what's likely the best night of her life she's complimented on her looks, dances with a handsome boy, and even wins prom queen! However, little did she know, the prom queen bit was part of stupid bitches' plan. See, earlier she and her boyfriend killed a bunch of pigs to poor pig's blood on Carrie while she was on stage. Unfortunately, for them, their plans come to fruition and Carrie is humiliated, despite the best efforts of the guilty girl and the gym teacher, but she does not take that disrespect. She locks everyone in the building using her powers, sprays them in water, and then lights the place on fire. She makes it outside where the stupid bitch and her boyfriend are and then blows up their car. After all that, she takes a bath, asks for the comfort of her mother who then tries to kill her, turns the tables by killing her mother, then kills herself by lighting the house on fire. The movie ends with the guilty girl having a nightmare about Carrie.

May I just point out, as a Zoomer whose part of a generation where our periods keep coming sooner and sooner, it was hard for me to imagine someone's first period being in high school. Especially senior year of high school, but I suppose that is a lot of people's experience.

This is probably because I'm stupid, but I didn't realize that the guilty girl and her boyfriend had good intentions til the end. I already went into the movie thinking this was a revenge flick. I didn't realize innocent people were going to get hurt. As far as the mother goes with her dying in the Jesus pose, I have no clue what that's meant to hint at other than being a sign of cruel fate. Of her "dying for Carrie's sins" only for Carrie to die along with her.

Here are some minor interpretations that I had: I feel like at the moment with the pig's blood, most of the laughing was in her head. I noticed that I first, it was only the girl with the ugly baseball cap pointing and laughing. Everyone else was disappointed. It was only when the words of her mother started circling her head, did everyone start to laugh. I like that a lot actually, because that's realistic. If I went to my prom and someone got covered in blood, I'd curse and be like "Who tf did this?" That's not funny, dude. teenagers are cruel but most of them aren't that cruel.

It also shows the state Carrie was in when that happened to her. She thought she was an unloveable, ugly, laughingstock with far too much lust in her. That last part is more subconscious, though. When she came home, her mother started talking about...Her relationship with Carrie's father, to me, reigned not only as obvious foreshadowing but as a metaphor for molestation. The scene starts with her mother rubbing up and down her legs, giving details on her endeavors with Carrie's father. Knives and other sharp objects

Are seen as phallic-like in Freudian theory (unfortunately. This is a trope I have mixed feelings on but that's a different conversation together). So her stabbing her after that speech felt like an implication. Afterward, Carrie used her powers to run several knives into her mother in order to protect herself while her mother moaned.

#Carrie #horror film #70's horror #stephan king #carrie 1976 #sa mention

[house-of-slayterr]

could you write thomas hewitt & bubba sawyer (separately) x reader that comes out as bi ?? ty :-D

Of course, I can little love bug!

Bubba Swayer:

You were held up in the kitchen, preparing dinner for the sawyer boys, your boys. You'd grown to love them dearly, but none more than Bubba himself. You fell in love with those big dough eyes and his pudgy, round stomach, and those arms that could lift a pig over his head without breaking a sweat. He caught you staring sometimes and got self-conscious, but if he could only see what you saw, he'd be blushing up a storm.

Bubba snuck up behind you at the sink, something that was hard to do for someone his size. He put his hands on your waist and you almost jumped, the poor man looked just as startled as you were. You turned around, placing one hand on your heart and the other delicately on his cheek.

"Jesus, you scared me bubs."

A nickname only you were allowed to call him. He loved the way it sound on your tongue.

"What'cha thinkin'" He signed.

You blushed heavily. You couldn't tell him you were busy daydreaming about him and that sinful smile of his. The one that could drop you to your knees in five seconds flat. They weren't bad thoughts, not that it mattered. You were drawn back out of your brain by Drayton bringing in a new victim.

You have grown used to the screaming and pleading living with the boys, but something was different about this one, the way she looked at you while Drayton dragged her off downstairs, made your heart flutter.

"You ok?" Bubba asked.

You nodded, turning back to cooking.

"Just swell, cupcake."

Later that night, you snuck down to the basement. Something was drawing you down there. You weren't supposed to go down without one of the boys by your side, but no one would know, right? You looked at the mess Drayton had made, out of all the siblings, he was one of the most clean.

You gently lifted the sheet off the girl's body, revealing just what he had done to her. This time, Bubba didn't want to startle you, so he knocked on the door frame at the bottom of the stairs.

"What are you doing?"

It was hard to see his signs in the dark.

"Don't know Bubs, couldn't sleep."

"You know her?"

You shook your head. Bubba was beyond confused by your strange behaviour. He thought you'd grown used to seeing victims, even though he tried his best to protect you from it.

"Sad?"

"No, it's- it's not like that Bubba, she was rude, she deserved it."

"Then what?"

You sighed heavily.

"She was just really pretty Bubba. It's a shame, we don't get to see many pretty women around here."

While Bubba had to agree, they were still a tad confused. You noticed and chuckled slightly. You grabbed his face and made him look at you.

"I'm Bisexual Bubs, but I've only got eyes for you. Come on, let's go back to bed."

You grabbed their hand and dragged them back upstairs. Bubba thought about what you said all night. They'd have to make you something to show his support in the morning.

Thomas Hewitt:

Things were crazy around the Hewitt house. And the heat was getting to you. A new group of teens rolled into town, and you knew there was much work to be done. Hoytt wouldn't let you get away with "sitting on that pretty ass all day" So you played your role well, luring in the half-drunk college kids, with your pretty face and southern charm.

It worked every time without fail. The tourists tended to trust you since you looked so non-threatening.

"Gas stations just down the road boys, I'll head to the back and get the sheriff out to help ya"

"The sheriff is at the gas station?" One of the idiot jocks asked.

"Someone tried to rob little Miss Mae, Hoytt ain't gonna let that happen again. The poor woman was scared out of her wits."

Of course, you played up the story to sell the whole innocent tale. The real story was the man who tried got beat to shit and served for dinner three days later when Tommy was done with him. Nobody disrespected his mama.

"That must have been really scary." the blond one said.

"You guys get lots of crime out here?" A boy asked, draping his hand on your shoulder.

"Nope" You popped the p "Towns pretty sleepy. Perfect place for tourists like you to rest your head for the night."

You pushed off of him, running forward playfully and winked. The longer you got them to stay, the easier it would be to split them up and pick them off. Once you made it to the gas station, you heard the familiar chime of the bell.

"Afternoon Miss Mae, these boys here looking for the sheriff. Car troubles, tree down in the road."

"OH golly, ain't nobody got hurt did they?" She winked at you when they weren't looking.

"Just their pretty city vehicle, they'll need a place to be staying while they sort themselves out don't ya think?"

You watched as some of them looked through the snacks in the store, talking amongst themselves. As Mae went to the back to talk with Hoytt, you sat up on the counter and swing your legs. You didn't notice Tommy watching you from the shadows. The blonde girl from earlier approached you, her shirt is hiked up a little.

"Sorry about this, but my friend over there dared me $50 to do this>' She began.

"Do what?" You questioned.

She quickly kissed you. At first, you were shocked, you don't been kissed by a pretty girl before. Though you thought about it often. You kissed her back, pulling her head closer to yours. You made a mental note to ask Hoytt to kill this one last. When you plled away, her gum was in your moth and you popped a little buble.

"Well shit, Sugar, all the city girl kiss like that?" You asked.

She blushed a little at your compliment. You'd certainly kill the boy who dared her yourself. Sure, the kiss wouldn't have happened without him, but daring someone to kiss someone they aren't into sexually is performative. She seemed pretty straight to you, and it's clear the boy just thought it would be hot to watch. Gross.

"Just when there's money involved." The other girl said.

You rolled your eyes.

"Hope it was worth it." You rumbled, hopping off the counter.

You went into the back room to mope, but Thomas was quick to comfort you.

"What?" he signed, pointing to the group.

"You were watching, weren't Ya big boy? You like the show? Think its all funny like they did? Bunch of no-good city folk!"

"Not funny"

"Then you think it gross." You challenged, you knew his mama was a religious woman.

"Them gross. You sad. You gay?"

You chuckled a little, wiping the tears from your eyes. You didn't even notice them starting to fall.

"I'm Bisexual Tommy. Sure, I like pretty girls, but I like pretty boys more. Pretty boys like you."

You stood on your tippy toes and kissed his check. A difficult feat since he was a giant.

"Want to help me show them my sexuality aint a party joke?"

Thomas thought you would never ask. Who cares what his mama's bible said. He loved you, and if you also loved women, then he'd defend you all the way.

Bonus: Chop Top

You were busy doing Bubba's hair and makeup. They looked really pretty with thier new face mask on. You helped them pick it out, the girl was the right build, it was hard to find one face that could fit Bubba's with minimal alteartions. The wig you picked was perfet, and you amde them a pretty dress out of some old overalls. It still had lots of pockets so they coudl get work done aroudn the hosue. Bubba was feeling mroe feminine today so you wanted to helpher out.

You turned her around to look in the mirror. The twinkle in their eyes made your heart melt. Chop Top walked by at that moment and stood in the doorway. You grew uncomfortable and cleared your throat.

"Don't ya think Bubba looks real pretty Chop?"

"Sure, he does, but you look more prettier."

You bit back the blush on your cheek. Always the charmer, that one.

"She, They're using She/They pronouns today Choppy."

"Sorry Bubba, didn't know. You're looking like one of those city girls, with the nice face paint. And I like that hair color on you." Chop corrected himself.

It was one go the things you loved out him. He loved his sibling no matter what. These boys may be cannibals, but they were raised right.

"I might just have to take you out on a fancy date." You said to Bubba.

Even with the mask on, you knew she waw blushing up a storm.

"Ain't you come here with that one boy all that time ago?"

Chop asked. You giggled a little, hearing the jealousy in his voice.

"Yeah, my idiot boyfriend and his band of losers? I'm over him Chop. Besides, I always thought girls were real pretty. Bubba's the prettiest, with or without her mask." You pinched her cheek lovingly.

You then walked up to chop.

"I'm confused. This one of them City things?"

"It's called being Bisexual Choppy, I like Men and Women. Cis or trans, don't matter to me.

"So you kiss both?"

"Yes Choppy, I kiss both. I can do more than kiss to, but that doesn't matter."

You were pleasantly surprised that it didn't seem to care. He wasn't making a huge deal out of it, and you appreciated it.

"Wanna know what does matter?"

You inched closer. He started to get clammy.

"What?"

"You."

You pulled him in for a kiss.

"Now, I'm gonna go get dinner ready for my pretty, pretty people."

You left both of them blushing and swooning in your wake.

#slasher #slasher imagine #slasher x reader #slasher lover #luda mae hewitt #thomas hewitt #bubba sawyer #bubba sawyer x reader #thomas hewitt x reader #texas chainsaw massacre #leatherface #bisexual #coming out #lgbt #chop top sawyer #genderfluid

[agoraphobiclapine]

⚠️THIS BLOG WILL CONTAIN WEIGHT GAIN AND FEEDISM KINK/FETISH CONTENT. IF THIS IS NOT FOR YOU. UNFOLLOW. If you see your content reblogged here and want it removed, I will remove it⚠️

Skip to the next set of ⚠️ if you are purely interested in kink stuff

Sprinkled in will also be plenty of Peaky Blinders, Watership Down, and other things that bring me immense joy.

25 || He/Him || gay || trans || ace || Taken by the very handsome and amazing piggy @girthleng

My name is Xander, you can use it, my username, or Xan to refer to me. I am autistic and have other disabilities as well that I prefer not to disclose. This as well as my transness are NOT to be sexualized or fetishized please.

FAVORITE

• Shows: Peaky Blinders, Bob's Burgers, Money Heist, Stranger Things, Queens Gambit, Vikings, Breaking Bad, Better Call Saul, Watership down.

• Movies: Watership down, anything Ghibli (fav is Nausicaa)

• Music: variety of stuff but right now IDLES, The White Stripes, Grandson, Black Pistol Fire. Big fan of Corpse Husband, Doja Cat, and Eminem. Also been listening to a lot of Billie Holiday and Peggy Lee.

• Books: Watership Down (if you have not caught on Watership Down is my biggest autistic special interest)

• Videogames: Divinity: Original Sin 2, Red Dead Redemption 2, Stardew Valley, Hollow Knight, Slime Rancher, Rusty Lake/Cube Escape Games, Final Fantasy XIII, and Animal Crossing: New Horizons.

• Food: Sushi/Sashimi, especially if it is Salmon/Ikura/hotatekai, most seafood, Udon, Miso, Brussels sprouts, and anything involving fish paste. Ice cream is great, and so are vegan mini marshmallows (im not vegan, but I am allergic to gelatin)

• Animals: Otters, Rabbits, Frogs, Capybaras, Horses, Seahorses, and Poodles.

IF YOU ARE UNDER 20 I WILL NOT SPEAK TO YOU

⚠️kink stuff⚠️

- I am currently taken and not interested in teasing/talking to people about kink anymore UNLESS it is in the form of interacting with my art/writing. I will gladly talk to you about my characters. I am still interested in friends that may want to talk about kink in general (i.e. hear me gush about how cute it is that a certain guy stuffed himself silly at the buffet but then wanted ice cream himself after when I went through McDonald's to get an ice cream for the dog as a treat) but I will not be teasing/encouraging anyone but my very VERY amazing boyfriend

- I am autistic and often abrasive because of it. I require boundaries to be placed by both parties and to be respected. Communication should be clear and intentional. If it seems like something is flying over my head, it is. Be direct, please, because I will do the same.

- Not into being a feedee/gaining/mutual gaining. This is final. No joking about it, no negotiations. I love contrast. Let's keep it that way. If you disrespect this boundary, you will be blocked.

- I have a BS in animal science and wanted to be a farmer before my physical health declined. This being said, I have two decades of farm experience and love to bring that into kink talk. Let's just say I'm great at helping you grow.

- I want to get to know the people I talk to about kink. I'm not gonna just jump right into it. That doesn't appeal to me. I'm looking for friends and that is it. It won't break my heart if that isn't for you, but don't let it break yours when I don't reciprocate.

- open to role-playing as OCs or existing characters. I will only role-play MxM as I'm strictly attracted to other men. I'm more into the sensual side of things as an asexual person, and thus, extremely explicit content isn't something I will typically engage in. Talk to me about what we both expect and we will see. No mpreg. No death feedism. No long-term immobility. Not currently open to RP

- my transness is not to be the main topic of discussion in any way shape or form. I'm a dude. Treat me as such.

[yourfriendlyneighborhoodeden]

I'm disappointed. Disappointed about how unfair it is that most of the women in my family won't be able to enjoy the Barbie movie because of their religion.

Their religion has taught them that they shouldn't fight for their rights, for what they want and whoever that goes against that belief is considered a bad woman and it's scolded by a man. Feminism is pretty much a crime, they don't understand feminism because they're blinded about what it is and, again, because they're not supposed to fight for anything that they care for. The religion tells them that they'll be happy when they get married or, even if they don't, that their life completely belongs to God. They're taught that their feelings, thoughts and opinions are not as relevant as men's, and that they'll never have the power men have. They're taught that the only reason they can divorce is if their husband is cheating, not even if he's being violent towards them or their children. They're taught that loving another woman romantically is a sin, that if they do, God won't love them. They're taught that modesty is important, that they should always think about other people before them. They're taught to be obedient, submissive and never be disrespectful with their husband. They can't pursue a career or a bachelor degree, because they're seen as "materialistic".

As mothers they're supposed to simply follow whatever the father of the children says it's okay to do; maybe they can give their minds but If the husband does not agree with them, their opinion does not make any impact on the life of their kids. They're always supposed to be stay-at-home-mothers, otherwise they're so criticized even by women from the religion. They're taught that love in the relationship is their responsibility, and if their husband cheats on them it is probably because he was not looked after. The people in charge, they tell women that they're too emotional and blame a lot of the anger they feel just on their period, minimizing everything to hormonal issues, so other reasons are not valid. The humour they use is simply disrespectful to say the least. I hate their religion, I hate my parents religion. I hate that my mother can't enjoy the movie because she will be so brainwashed that she will see this as feminist propaganda and therefore she won't like it completely. I hate that, because I loved the movie.

I love women, I wish I could simply be one (I'm not because I identify as NB, although I'm AFAB and grew with that same religion, my experience is now different in some ways), even though I understand that being a woman is really hard, because every woman is so beautiful, they're so full of life, love and are so very whole on their own, they don't need men, they don't need anything to be gorgeous and happy, just themselves. Men need more women than women need them. I wish men could realize how lucky they are, women somehow still trust some of them with their hearts and most of the time they just waste their chance. I wish women from my family were happy, truly happy and not brainwashed so much that they lose so much of their identity between being a wife and a mother, they're so much more than that.

#barbie #barbie movie #religion #religiontrauma #movies #women