Tumgik
#may be subject to change if i think of anything else but i think this ones pretty good
Text
you know if we do accept the last epilogue-esque sequence as a sort of dream/wish of ted's and therefore not necessarily canon, very funny if we then simply go "yeah, trent's book is called 'the lasso way' actually. he didn't change that. nope."
#listen on one hand#i think that like#i don't think ted actually changed trent's mind about the title#i think trent changed it because ted asked him to#and like that's especially interesting bc he even made a point of being like#'tell me if you disagree with anything and i'll tell you why you're wrong'#but he respects ted; more than that he likes him and he wants him to like the book--like him#anyone else and trent would have told them to fuck off but ted? ted asking him to change the title? yeah#i think he didn't agree with 'it not being about him'--and not bc of any feelings he may have for ted--but if we accept that him changing#the title is canon then like. he did it because ted asked. nothing more nothing less#maybe he felt he owed it to ted as the subject of the book; maybe he just respected him too much not to#maybe it's partially bc of his feelings; maybe it's because he just couldn't say no to ted#but it's ultimately just. because ted asked him.#and trent respects him; trusts him; cares about him#and that's pretty heartwrenching#but like on the other hand if we say 'no that was ted's wishufl thinking trent definitely went 'sorry ted it's called the lasso way''#also like.... him being like. like quietly not changing it and if ted said something him just. being like#ted. i respect you. i care about you. i trust you. but with all due respect absolutely not#yes it isn't ONLY about you but YOU made this happen. YOU are special and YOU have a place here whether you can stay forever or not#yes it's about the team and the coaches yes you aren't a one man band but ted. TED. you touched lives. you changed lives. and that was YOU.#that was you and your philosophy and your attitude.#you made richmond what it is today. yes the team deserve credit too for the kind of bond they have now but YOU facilitated that#none of the coaches currently here woudl be coaches if not for you. the diamond dogs wouldn't exist. literally every single one#of our friends--OUR friends--wouldn't be where they are and probably wouldn't be as happy#you got through to people over and over again who were hurting and lashing out. to rebecca. to roy. to jamie. to nate. to me.#and you can be humble but there's being humble and there's acting like you don't matter to any of us like you didn't have an impact#like you can just leave without a trace. we don't blame you for leaving--i especially don't--but acting like we won't miss you and like#your time with all of us--our time--meant nothing is more insulting than it is humble because we /love you/#and yes. it was the goddamn lasso way that built this place#this community.
19 notes · View notes
trollocs-ooc · 3 months
Text
Slashrs typing quirk in da future:
§ thiS iS the typing quirk.
§ and another paragraph in that Same typing quirk.
Section symbol at the start, all lowercase letters except for the letter S and proper punctuation.
0 notes
cinnamonest · 2 months
Text
I'm not looking to start shit so I'm not linking it or anything, but you may have seen a recent anti-dark-content post circulating with a lot of notes making rounds in the x reader sphere and while I have nothing against people posting their feelings in their own private spaces, every time I see these kinds of posts there's a lot of misinformation that gets regurgitated in the reblogs/replies and I saw what looked like a battlezone in the replies, so.
I know posts like that can be very jarring and affects people like my readers, so to combat misinformation/shaming for anyone who saw it, I'm going to share some of my information on combatting fandom puritanism/misogyny/kinkshaming in its most common forms.
The most important fact, if you read nothing else, is this:
Most women have rape fantasies.
62% to be exact. I think the most pervasive myth on this content is that consumers are "weird" for it, when the numbers don't indicate that. You're in the majority!
The vast majority of people who have rape fantasies do not put them into practice in real life. A variety of factors can determine whether or not they do, particularly specific psychiatric disorders. (X)
To specifically address common harmful and pervasive myths:
the "go to therapy!" line
Generally any academic or professional resource will immediately tell you that consuming and engaging in "dark" fantasies is accepted and encouraged by mainstream psychiatry and part of the professional education for psychiatrists. (This also used to be pretty well-known until like the last 5 years or so, not sure why that changed.)
Here are some particularly insightful resources:
1) This article by Dr. David Wahl, in my opinion, hands-down does the best job of simply and thoroughly explaining why these fantasies occur and why couples practice CNC, as well as the fact that they are both harmless, psychologically beneficial to those with them, and not at all correlated to real-life rape.
2) Dr. Claudia Six has some of the best and most thorough material out there on the subject, specifically explaining why this is taught in mainstream academia psychology and how it is incredibly helpful to rape victims (X).
3) Lisa Diamond is a professional who focuses on this subject a lot, and was featured in the documentary "The Dilemma of Desire," in which she specifically focuses on how these fantasies are not correlated to real-life desires. (X)
4) Dr. Casey Lyle has specifically talked a lot on his socials about how fantasies, even in men/the perspective of the offender, do not correlate to actual risk of offending.
5) This article is not by a professional, but from the perspective of a survivor discussing how it is beneficial to survivors.
the "why would you want that?" line
The idea that fictional tastes = what you want to happen to you in real life is actually of misogynistic origin. I don't want to seek out or add links on this one, but if you're really curious, you can research about how the idea that "women read rape fiction, that means they secretly want rape!" was originally a classic "red pill"/MGTOW/4chan talking point that made its way into mainstream dialogue and thus the public mind in the last 15 years or so due to the incel epidemic popularizing those communities.
the "it's only valid for survivors then!" line
On one hand, yes it's very important to acknowledge that trauma victims use it to cope, however I feel that over-emphasizing that gives the impression that non-victims should be excluded from consumption of dark content, so to clarify, it's a very valid means for all women. Many women who have not personally experienced rape still fantasize about it, and that's fine.
The full explanation as to why this is true for many of them would be lengthy (and addressed in the aforementioned Dilemma of Desire documentary), but in the simplest terms, nonconsensual sex is the only context in which patriarchal society permits women to have sex at all without feeling guilt. For many women, particularly those in more heavily misogynistic or religious cultures, these fantasies are appealing because the idea of consensual sex may give them feelings of shame, guilt, "sin," etc. These fantasies allow them to experience the feeling of being desired without guilt of participation.
No society on earth is free of the psychological grip that cultural misogyny has on women, and shaming women for adapting to the conditions they are forced to exist under is as harmful as the misogyny that causes it itself.
ALL women experience a form of psychological trauma inherent to female childhood and female adolescence in a patriarchal world, and that is just as valid as coping with individual traumatic events.
Good resources on the subject of why women have these fantasies and how they are helpful in general:
(X) (X)
The "what you consume will make you do it in real life!" myth
Although the resources above already address this, it's important to establish why this myth is so prevalent and what its origins are.
The idea that consuming media with dark themes leads to or indicates desires to replicate those acts is a residual element of two major events:
1) Puritan revival culture, popularized in the US and UK in the 90s and 2000s (also known as "Satanic Panic"). A major facet of this movement was TV megachurch preachers making money off of exploiting well-meaning but paranoid parents into believing that your child playing Dungeons and Dragons or Pokemon would make them future serial killers and lure them into satanic cults. (X)
2) at the tail end of this, it was cemented in the public mind as a cultural ripple aftershock of the Columbine shooting, where this sentiment became popularized as the general public blamed violent video games like Doom and "dark" music like Marilyn Manson (whose life was temporarily completely upended by the events and took him years to recover/be safe from) for the 1999 shooting. This event had MASSIVE permanent and global effects in all sorts of ways that the public often underestimates the sheer scope of, notably that it solidified, prolonged, and, in the minds of many, "proved" the paranoias of the preexisting Satanic Panic. (X) This established a precedent, leading to virtually any major horrible event being blamed on the perpetrator's media consumption, including murder and sex crimes.
What this myth ignores in the cases it references (the slenderman stabbings, columbine, sasebo slashing, batman shooting, etc) is two crucial facts: that hundreds of millions of people consume the same media with no negative effects (helpful effects even), and that in every single case cited as "evidence" to the claim, the perpetrator had a preexisting psychiatric condition correlated to acts of violence (which usually went ignored, downplayed and even accelerated/worsened by those around them rather than the help they needed).
Sorry for the wall of text, but I feel an ethical obligation to combat this kind of misinformation, and I hope these resources are helpful for those who may be negatively affected by common misunderstandings.
You are not abnormal or wrong for the fictional content you consume or the fantasies you have!
1K notes · View notes
corroded-hellfire · 6 months
Note
My gorgeous soulmate. The love of my life. I can’t stop thinking about Reader waiting for a ride and accidentally overhearing Eddie talking to the Hellfire guys about some beautiful girl and how he’s afraid to ask her out. Reader assumes it’s someone else and leaves because she’s upset and doesn’t want him to see her. Bonus points for wingman Dusty Bun, but not necessary. Okay love you byeeeeee xoxoxo @munson-blurbs 💚
Hello, my darling dearest. I hope you enjoy this and I love you too! 💕
Words: 1.5k
Tumblr media
Band practice ran late, but that didn’t matter one bit. Your older brother was always running behind to pick you up, leaving you the lone person sitting outside the school, waiting. Usually, you had a book with you, but you’d finished your last one and hadn’t gotten a chance to check a new one out of the library today. Honestly, the fierce autumn wind may have prevented you from reading anyway; the pages would be obeying Mother Nature, not you. The wind whistles and whips so viciously that you slide off of the brick wall you’re sitting on top of and seat yourself on the cold sidewalk, pressing as close to the wall as you can to avoid the harsh blowing.
Luckily, the gust eases up and you only end up having four leaves stuck to your clothing. As you’re picking them from your gray sweater, you hear the telltale squeak of the main doors of the school opening. Your brow creases in confusion because you didn’t realize anyone else was here this late. The dark evening has your mind floating back to the dozens of slasher movies you’ve seen that started with this very scenario. Taking care to be as quiet as possible, you tuck your legs up against your body as you hug your backpack to your chest.
“Damn Eddie, I’ve never heard you talk this way before.”
The voice is vaguely familiar. Nancy’s brother maybe? Right! He’s in Hellfire with Eddie Munson, who must be the Eddie he’s speaking to. An involuntary smile curls on your lips at the boy you’re head over heels for being just a few feet away. The closer they get, the easier it is for you to hear the thunk of the metalhead’s boots coming down the sidewalk. 
“Ugh, I know,” Eddie says, a hint of a whine in his happy-go-lucky voice. “But she’s so fuckin’ beautiful.”
The butterflies in your stomach sour, churning at hearing Eddie talk this way about some girl. He’s not doing anything wrong, and logically you know that. He doesn’t owe you anything. But irritation bubbles up in you as a defense from the heartbreak you’re desperately trying to run away from. Your fingers dig into your backpack as you squeeze your eyes closed to prevent the tears from leaking out.
“Ask her out!” That voice was Jeff’s—from your history class.
Eddie scoffs and you can just picture him shaking his head, his frizzy curls swaying back and forth. The thought of Eddie asking a girl out forces the hot tears to leak down your face, despite how tightly you’ve been keeping them closed. 
“Like she would want to go out with me,” he says. 
Now your heart also breaks for Eddie. Who could be so stupid as to not want to go out with him?
“Aww, I think you’re scared,” another voice goads. Probably the curly-haired boy that’s friends with the Wheeler boy. 
“I’m not scared,” Eddie says. “I’m just…afraid.”
“That’s the same thing!” Wheeler says before you hear a thump and the boy mutters an, “Ow!”
“Shut it, Wheeler. I don’t want to hear shit from you or Henderson on girls. Both of your girls live far away. Huh, kind of convenient, isn’t it?” Eddie asks. “They’re probably as real as the damn hair on top of Higgin’s head.”
“Hey!” Wheeler shouts.
“That’s bullshit!” the boy who must be Henderson shouts at the same time.
“You guys are letting him change the subject,” Jeff says. “When are you going to ask her out?”
Instead of giving an answer, you can hear Eddie grumbling under his breath the closer they get to you. It won’t be long now before they’ll walk past the wall and see you sitting on the ground. Waiting for a ride is easy enough to explain, but the tear tracks running down your face are a different matter. 
Before the group of guys can get any closer, you carefully push yourself onto your knees. Balancing yourself against the wall with one hand, you seek out somewhere you can hide. The corner of the wall is pretty far away, you’d never be able to crawl there fast enough. If you stand up though, you could walk that distance. Realizing crouching down so far is going to kill your back, you push up to your feet and keep your torso and head low as you speedwalk to the corner of the wall. 
Luckily, it’s just a grassy lawn on the other side of the wall, so you throw yourself down on it and catch your breath. Unluckily, you hear the piercing whine of your brother’s car pulling up towards Hawkins High. Fuck. Of course he comes now. 
You peek out from your safe space around the wall and see that Eddie and the rest of the Hellfire gang are climbing into Eddie’s van. A rush of breath leaves your lungs and you’re sure your adrenaline is about to come crashing down.
Your brother pulls up to the curb and you push yourself off of the grass and quickly slide into the passenger’s seat. 
“Uh, you okay?” your brother asks, raising an eyebrow.
“Fine,” you huff. “Just go.”
Tumblr media
Like the piece of gum you’d stepped in last week, the sharp pains in your heart stay with you much longer than you’d like. The next day, right before last period, you’re at your locker, switching out your books and hoping your eyes don’t look as puffy as they feel.
“Uh, hey.”
The voice makes you jump and drop your biology book. You don’t have to turn around to know who it is; you’d know that voice anywhere. It’s just never been so close to your ear before.
“Oh shit, I’m sorry,” Eddie says as he bends down to pick up your book. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“No, it’s okay,” you manage to say as you turn around to face him. “Thank you,” you say as he gives you your science book back. 
Eddie clears his throat and glances over his shoulder before looking back at you—or rather, your shoes. Curious, you follow the line of sight where Eddie had just looked, and you see the curly-haired boy from Hellfire peeking around the corner. Henderson. As soon as he notices you looking, he pops back out of sight. 
“I, uh,” Eddie says as he finds the courage to meet your eye. “Hey.”
“You said that,” you say with a shy smile. “But then I freaked out, so…hi.”
The smile Eddie gives you isn’t his biggest by far, but it still makes your knees go wobbly. 
“You’re in band, right?” Eddie asks, reaching up and scratching the back of his neck. 
“I am.”
“Yeah. So, I was wondering if maybe after the game this Friday you might want to grab a bite to eat? With, um, me?”
The world freezes around you, time completely stopping. Your body is locked in place as you stare at Eddie with wide eyes. He just asked me out, you think. Why would he ask me out? He thinks that other girl is beauti—holy shit. I’m the beautiful girl he was talking about? This defies all that you thought you knew in the world. Is this a parallel universe where guys actually like you back? You realize you’ve just been staring at him since you spoke.
“Yeah. T-That sounds nice,” you say.
“Really?” Eddie’s eyes light up and your heart comes to a halt inside your chest.
“Yes,” you say with a small chuckle.
“Wow. Awesome. Okay, wow.” His disbelief shocks you. How in the hell was he afraid to ask you out? You’re just…you. He gives you a wider grin now before tugging up the sleeve of his leather jacket. “Do you have a pen?”
“Hmm? Oh, yeah!” You grab a pen from your locker and write down your number on Eddie’s pale skin, right below a colony of inked bats. 
“Great,” Eddie says as he pulls his sleeve back down. “Um, I’ll wait in the gym after the game?”
“Sure. It’ll only take me a few minutes to change and get everything put away.”
“Awesome,” Eddie says again, and seeing him acting this nervous just tickles you pink. You’re not sure you’ve ever heard him say “awesome” before and now he’s said it twice within the last minute. “I guess I’ll see you in English tomorrow.”
“Sounds good. Oh, Eddie, wait. You’re going to go to the game?” You raise your eyebrows in disbelief. “I thought you hated basketball.”
“Oh. Well, I do,” he says with a chuckle. “Easier to take you out after the game if I’m there, though. And, uh, you know, Sinclair’s been bugging me to come see him play.”
“Right,” you say. 
Eddie’s cheeks turn a light red as he gives you a bashful smile. 
“See you later, beautiful,” he says. He doesn’t give you time to even react to his words before he’s heading down the hall. 
“Holy shit,” you whisper to yourself. “I make Eddie nervous?”
A jovial giggle slips past your lips as you close your locker. You feel like you owe the Hellfire guys a thank you. 
Tumblr media
2K notes · View notes
athena5898 · 7 months
Text
I often think when people hear "infantilizing a group of people", they think of it literarily that we are actively being made a infant. While this is a part of it, I think people miss the subtle things that end up causing chasms in their relationships with that group of people.
It's actually hard to pinpoint because it's never a singular event, it's many tiny things but the end result is always "I am the authority, I will always know more then you, I will never take your advice, I will never be honest with you (you know to spare *your* feelings), any disagreement is your fault, any problem in your life is my cross to bear and you must follow how I tell you to fix it, I will never stoop myself to understanding what your needs are as X group and will view everything from my own lens and judge you accordingly, we are not equals, and we never will be. (This is not a exhausted list, nor will everyone have all the same traits)
It is very hard to connect with someone who just automatically assumes a higher status to you just because of something you can't change. All the while the offender thinks what they are doing is actually a good thing. They are somehow helping you by just assuming they are better then you (which in the end, that's kinda what this is).
I have a few people in my life that I care for a lot, but they are not that much older then me yet they act like I can't possibly understand them and automatically shove this "child" label on my forhead.
And here is the thing, they will voluntarily bring up why they think this if you pay attention. It might be trauma they've dealt with, it might be that they have kids and you don't, age, or anything else like this. However I think it's important to note that I have friends who do not talk down to me and respect me as my own person with autonomy and also have these things going on in their life. So it's not like it's impossible to treat someone with respect and have these differences.
Now what do some of these subtle differences look like? There are many ways they can materialize but to name a few.
- Demanding the person solves a problem their way despite the person telling them why their circumstances do not allow that.
- assuming...well anything and all the time. These people have a tendency to think they know exactly what you are feeling and other such things and if you try to correct them then they will actually get upset at you or show some type of passive aggressiveness.
-Speaking on your behalf without asking permission
-never valuing your expertise on any subject. They are older/more mature then you, therefore to them they know more about everything. What's really fun (/s) about this is when they will explain to you, why you are wrong, by repeating what you said back at you.
- any reason why you can't do a thing, or why you need an aide is an excuse. You could do it if you *really* wanted to, but you are just being lazy. Now the real adult has to take up your burden.
- they do not/cannot listen to you. No matter what you say or how you say it, or if they even confirm what you say, there is always a part of them that is not listening. Or hell, they could of listened to you, but since what you say isn't important to them, they will quickly forget it and may even try and claim you never said anything to them.
- I'm not sure if this counts as infantilizing, but I notice that it happens a lot in tandem. While they think less of you and treat you like a child whose facts and opinions don't matter, all of this will change at a moment's notice when they need something from you...oddly enough something they probably normally do not take seriously from you on a normal day. Suddenly thrusting you with this burden of taking care of them even though they are never there for you in any meaningful actually helpful way most of the time. Like you will literally be demanded to stop what you are doing, and get over whatever you are going through to help them and their problem. I cannot explain how frustrating it is to be demanded to be the mature one while most of the time being denied respect.
I could go on, but honestly if I sat here and thought of every single tiny thing they do to make sure there is distance between you and them up on their self made pedestals, I'd be here all day.
The worst part on all of this is that I have no idea how to resolve it. People who do this are not inherently bad people, hell they might not even realize they do it. But this can actually make it more difficult to bring to their attention. I have tried many ways and many different times to resolve this, but I haven't been successful yet. Anyone who has corrected themselves were people who just had a little mess up but still obviously viewed me as a person from the start.
These subtle ways someone can dehumanize you, it can cause terrible rifts and of course the other person never understands why (see point above about not listening)
I am writing this as a autistic person, but I know there are others who go through this. Please check the ways you create artificial authority over someone.
Edit: someone reblogged this with hashtags about how we shouldn't do this to children either and I completely agree, I was using the term because it's the one often used to explain these things. Adding the edit cause I have no idea how to respond to the hashtag thing and I think it's a important thing to note.
1K notes · View notes
walpu · 3 months
Note
hey, hey, I don't know how many times I've read your post "pre-relationship" especially aventurine part (omg i love how you write abt him 😭). I wonder how it will be once they are in a relationship and the kissing part please :3 thank u and have a nice day!
THANK YOUUUUU
Hope you'll enjoy this post too💛💛💛
being in a relationship with Aventurine
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
characters - Aventurine notes - gn!reader, fluff, hurt/comfort (do I even write something other that hurt/comfort for him lmao), no beta
can be seen as a part 2 of this post but it can stan on it's own as well
Aventurine
It would take quite some time for Aventurine to move from the pre-relationship stage with you. Will dance around the subject, throwing hints and flirty remarks but as for making an actual move? Oof.
Would cling to your side and shamelessly say something like "aww, can't get enough of me? people may think we're dating <З unless that's what you want them to think haha"
Pathetic. /affectionally.
But seriously, he really wants to be sure that you like him before making a move. That you like him, not his money, not the idea of him. At least that's what he tells himself. And while this is part of the reason, the actual thing is that he's simply... confused. He's already more vulnerable around you than he ever was around anyone else. And dating means being even more vulnerable.
While he yearns for this genuine connection he's also a scared of it. Tim Kreider wrote the line "If we want the rewards of being loved we have to submit to the mortifying ordeal of being known" about him actually.
It would take some time for him to get used to being in relationship. In the previous post I've mentioned that he, most likely, had some short flings in the past. I seriously doubt that he ever had any serious relationship before you though. It's so new to him. At first it would seem like nothing has changed between the two of you at all. Surprisingly, it looks like he even became a bit more distant.
Aventurine doesn't want to attract any unwanted attention to your relationship since it will only endanger you. Plus he doesn't want to overwhelm you. Plus he doesn't want to overwhelm himself. Plus he is scared shitless.
He can't help but feel that he looses everything he holds dear. After all, it's been like that for all of his life. And he simply can't loose you.
Mini spoiler for his leaked character story, but there is a moment there when he looks at the aventurine stone Diamond gave him and he realizes that despite the fact that he worked so hard for it, now that he has it, it holds no real value since it doesn't fill the emptiness inside of him. Logically, he knows that this won't happen with you. He loves you too much. But there's this subconscious fear inside of him that he's just so messed up inside that he simply would not be able to love you like you deserve.
Be patient with him, this mans doesn't know what he's doing. Don't give up on him and he'll crawl to your side, holding onto you for dear life.
Once he will calm down a bit, he'll make it up for all those times when you were the one reaching out to him. Texts you, calls you, arranges spontaneous dates.
In the beginning of relationship would spoil you with expensive gifts. He knows what it's like to have nothing so he doesn't want you to ever feel this way. And the best way to prevent it? To make sure that you will have anything and everything. Maybe it's a subconscious way to bribe you. Maybe. Not like he realizes it himself.
Once he'll feel more stable and more confident, his gift giving tendencies will get less overwhelming. He still like giving you gifts but now he picks and chooses. His sugar darling deserves only the best, after all.
Acts all clingy, playful and unserious but actually listens to your every word and is ready to fulfil your every need.
Is actually very caring. Shows his care by pestering you and easing you tho.
If you feel down, will sit stay by your side. May randomly start tickling you, if you're ticklish. If not, will find another way to touch you in a playful and somewhat annoying way. After you cheer up a bit, Aven will put his chin on your shoulder and hugs your waist, softly asking what happen and why is his dearest darling seems sad.
As for kisses. Aven will loooove covering your face with butterfly kisses. And not only your face. Will randomly grab your hand and kiss your knuckles and fingertips. If you've made a mistake of exposing your shoulder then be ready for it to be kissed endlessly.
Adores kissing those parts of your body that are usually covered with clothes. It feels fore intimate for him.
And if you have freckles or/and beauty marks. Oh well. Will trace them with his fingertips, connecting them with some invisible lines and sometimes gasp playfully, saying that he found his constellation. Just a silly little guy being a silly little guy.
So touch-starved it's unreal.
Has very mixed feeling about his tattoo being kissed. Would feel... weirs if you would kiss it during your casual cuddling session. He exposes it for the world to see, yes. But still, when it attracts attention of someone who knows the meaning behind it... Makes him a bit tense, it catches him off-guard. However, if you kiss it after a lovemaking session or when he shares some painful memories with you, he will feel reassured.
Will slowly start crawling out of his shell when he's with you. Before he only shared some brief memories of his past with you, now he'll start slowly opening up about other, much more painful stuff.
It still happens randomly and out of the blue. He remembers something, he tenses up. But now, instead of repressing this feelings, he shares them with you.
Don't push him too talk, he'll slowly open up on his own.
Loves waking up next to you. Especially if you're still asleep. Seeing the sun shining on your face fills him with love and tenderness. Only with you by his side he feels truly safe.
746 notes · View notes
mrsdarkandyandere7 · 2 months
Text
Can't Leave Me
Tumblr media
Pairing: Dark Hawks x (female) Reader
▶ This is a yandere/dark work and it may contain triggering content so please READ THE WARNINGS before. Do not read if minor.
More at Masterlist
Female Reader
SUMMARY: Seeing a darker side of Keigo has you rethinking your entire relationship. But it’s not like Keigo is planning on letting you go. 
WARNINGS: Murder; Kidnapping. 
AN: Please, reblog and give me feedback.
His hand rubs comforting circles over the expanse of your back, innumerous apologies being mumbled as he kisses the crown of your head. 
“I should’ve eased you into it. I‘m so sorry, baby.” his tone is apologetic, almost regretful, but you can’t be bothered by that.
Not after what you witnessed. 
The queasiness in your stomach increases, and you swallow hard, closing your eyes in a poor attempt to control both yourself and the wave of nausea that threatens to rise. 
“Next time, I promise I’ll let you know beforehand, ‘kay? No more nasty surprises, I promise.” his cooing has you pushing your palms against the edge of the marble kitchen island, and you take a few stumbling steps backwards.
“I really thought you’d like to see my patriotic work.”
“You…” his golden eyes squint for a second when you dodge his hand from touching your arm, “That man-”
“He’s no one. Just some fucking dirtbag I caught the other day on patrol. No one even cares that he’s gone, if that makes you feel better.”
You look at him in bewilderment, unable to believe his words. Was Keigo - always so sweet and gentleman - trying to convince you that killing people was fine? That it was okay for his basement to have pools of blood and pieces of human limbs?
The pungent smell of fresh blood is still haunting your nose and you scrunch it, remembering the nasty scene your boyfriend presented you. 
When Keigo asked you to come to his house, telling you he had a surprise stored in his basement for you, your mind wandered to the idea of receiving a sweet gift.
Maybe a painting or a bracelet, anything with a romantic meaning. A normal thing. 
But when Keigo took you to his basement, chest inflated with pride at what he called “city scum cleaning” it wasn’t at all what you expected. 
“You’re worrying too much.” he sighs, his wings ruffling behind him. “I’m cleaning the city from the filthy scum, nothing else.”
“They’re human beings, Keigo. You can’t take justice into your own hands, that’s not your job.”
Keigo only shrugs his shoulders, disinterested at your attempt to bring some conscience to him.
“I know this upsetted you, baby, so why don’t we change the subject? How about we start making dinner and then watch a movie? I know you’re excited to see that new action movie, right?”
His proposition makes you feel sick to your stomach for more reasons than one, but the realization that your boyfriend is trying to distract you from the fact that he’s a serial killer is too much.
You need to leave. Immediately. 
But you’re scared. Terrified of becoming Keigo’s new addition to his basement, if he realizes that you’re not on his side. You’re not sure if he loves enough to spare you from such destiny.
You’re not sure of anything anymore. 
You shift the weight from one foot to the other, eyes drifting to the kitchen door. 
“I think…” your voice shakes, and you attempt to clear your throat, “Maybe I should go,  Keigo. I’m not…feeling great.”
His expression drops for a moment, cold anger being replaced with feigned sympathy so quickly that you almost believe you imagined it. 
“Sweet cheeks, if you’re not feeling well, then you can just sleep over.” he takes a minuscule step in your direction, his wings stretching behind him for a moment. Demonstrating their enormous size before he pulls them back.
A not very subtle threat.
“I can prepare a warm bath for you, and then get you in bed with some painkillers. How about that?” 
You shake your head, feeling helpless. 
“No, Keigo, it’s fine, really. I can just go home and-”
“Nonsense. Besides, I don’t like the idea of you all alone in your apartment, especially if you’re feeling sick.” he brushes you off, “I can’t have you puking or passing out when you’re on your own. What kind of boyfriend would that make me, am I right?” 
A few of his feathers gracefully fly in your direction, gently but effectively pushing you forward. 
The conflict inside your mind only fires up, but you’re hardly able to bitterly swallow down all the shabby excuses and useless begging that would only result in angering Keigo. 
Your body bumps against his and Keigo instantly wraps his arm around your waist, replacing the feathers that rejoin his wings. 
He kisses your cheek with an arm tightly gripping your waist, as if he’s waiting for you to bolt and run away. You’d be lying if you say the idea doesn’t seem awfully tempting.
Maybe if he looks away or gets distracted…maybe then  you could take the chance. 
“C’mon, let’s get you a bath, ‘kay? You’re really not looking too good.” 
Tumblr media
The melancholic moonlight hits you in the face, seeping through the locked window. Your eyes are wide open, despite the ungodly time of the night. It’s quiet now, aside from the light cricket’s sounds and the occasional car speeding up through the street.
You barely move your head as you glance towards the fluorescent numbers of the digital clock on the bedside table next to you, careful enough to shift as little as you can.
The arm draped across your waist feels like a rope, keeping you bound to Keigo.
But it’s better than the red wing that lays wide open in all of its immense size, acting as a second blanket to your body, caging you to the bed with its oppressive weight. 
Despite your objections of becoming too hot during the night, Keigo still insisted on covering your body with it, shutting you down with a gentle kiss.
He sleeps soundly, his chest a few inches away from your chest, his deep calm breathing hitting your ear and neck. 
You can’t sleep. Your mind is too bothered, too upset to even consider something as futile as sleeping when there are more urgent necessities. Such as escaping this house. 
Keigo fell into a deep slumber a few hours ago while you remained awake, thinking about your next steps. You have to leave the bed, leave the house, leave him. 
But even the last step seems complicated when you can’t even pull yourself out of the bed - out of Keigo’s suffocating embrace. 
You’re frozen with fear, you begrudgingly admit. Scared of accidentally waking Keigo up and in the process, to wake a side of him that you don’t want to see. 
You have to do this.
The first step is to test the waters.
You take a deep breath, slowly shifting your body, your hand gently pushing his arm down and away from you. Nothing happens.
Your heartbeat speeds up as you embrace yourself for the final step. 
Looking down at the impending problem of escaping the red wing, you take the decision to slide underneath it. 
It’s awkward and embarrassing when you weirdly dive underneath the wing, squishing yourself against the bed as you try to touch the feathers as little as you can. They don’t pulse or move, remaining completely still as you make your escape. 
A relieved sigh gets caught in your throat when your feet touch the floor. Just a little more, you think, bending your body to slide down the curve of the bed. 
Premature hope makes your breathe faster. Maybe you can actually get away.
Oh god, you’re actually going to get away. 
Your whole body freezes for a scary moment when Keigo mumbles a few incoherent words, shifting and turning in bed, but thankfully he remains asleep. You can breathe again.
It’s a bit hard to walk in the darkness, only the dim light of the moon helping you guide yourself, as your feet take baby steps and you prod the walls with your hands until you finally find the closet room.
The door creaks slightly as you slowly close it, and you hold your breath for a moment. Nothing happens. 
You open the light, hoping it doesn’t infiltrate through the door’s crack and search the place with your eyes, looking for your clothes. Keigo kept them there before handing you one of his shirts earlier in the night, saying that it would be more comfortable for you to sleep in his clothes than in your outer clothes. 
It’s easy to find your shirt and pants, both of them tucked away in a corner of the room, the evident contrast between Keigo’s expensive clothing and your cheap casual outfit standing out. 
You quickly put them on, looking around for your purse before remembering that you had left it in the kitchen. Fuck. 
You close the light, and silently leave the closet. 
“Babe.” 
Your blood runs cold at the sight of Keigo casually standing in front of you, arms crossed in his chest. There’s no anger  in his face - nor sleepiness, you notice - but there are hints of annoyance. Did he really expect you not to try and run? 
“I’m kinda disappointed, I gotta say.” he shakes his head with a tired sigh. “I was really hoping you wouldn’t do anything stupid tonight. Guess I was wrong.”
“I wasn’t-” your words lose strength, and for a moment, the idea of dashing for the door with all of your speed seems incredibly enticing, “It’s not what you think.”
“Yeah? Pfft, c’mon, you seriously think you’re gonna fool me into believing any crappy excuse? Like I didn’t just catch you trying to sneak off on me?” he clicks his tongue, messy strands of blonde hair falling onto his forehead, “But you know what?”
It’s now. The moment he switches the flip on you and beats you and-
“Let’s continue this tomorrow, alright? It’s late, so how about we sleep on this and in the morning, we’ll talk.” 
You look at him, surprised. Isn’t he gonna drag you by the hair to his basement and beat you? 
Keigo directs you back to the closet, watching as you hesitate to change back into his shirt. 
“That was never gonna work, you know that, right?” he says. “It’s not like you could outrun me. I’m too fast for you, with or without quirk.”
When you get back on the bed, his wing covers you once again and his arm pulls you flush against his chest, suffocating you with his presence.
He kisses the nape of your neck. 
“Sleep tight.”
Tumblr media
You wake up startled, mind buzzing with a chilling nightmare. Red blood and sticky viscera follow you even though you rise away from the realm of dreams. 
You breathe in. It was just a dream. 
Distant sounds coming from another room catch your attention and you remain quiet, catching the tiny rays of sunlight that come through the curtains, basking on pacific solitude. 
What are you supposed to do now? Relent and pretend that everything is peachy, to act as if the basement isn’t torture chamber and that your boyfriend isn’t some cold-hearted killer? 
You roll to the side, yelping when your leg gets caught on. 
A chain. 
A soft leather wrapped tightly around your ankle, connecting it to the links of metal that keep you in a short leash. There’s barely any length to it, meaning you won’t even be able to reach the bathroom if you need to. 
This can’t be real. 
You persistently rub your eyes, shaking your head as fear threatens to spill in the shape of a panic attack. 
Keigo wouldn’t do this. He can’t do this. He just can’t. 
Much to your consternation, you don’t wake up. This isn’t some wicked dream, after all. 
“No, no, please, no.” you cry, pulling and tugging on the solid chain with both of your hands. It doesn’t work, despite all the clicking it does. Doesn’t so much as move away from your ankle.
But it does make a shrilling noise and soon Keigo rushes into the room, a worried expression on his face before he understands what you’re doing. 
He plops next to you, firm hands pulling your shaky ones away from the chain, despite you not giving up and you yelp when he uses his strength to expertly twist your wrist, forcing you to let go of the chain.
“Keigo, please, don’t…don’t do this. I promise I won’t run away, I swear!” you plead, snot and tears pathetically dripping down your face as Keigo pulls you into his lap, a large hand securing both of your wrists. 
“Keigo…”
“Shh, it’s okay. Everything is fine, it’s all okay.” 
It only makes you cry harder. One of his hands rubs your back while the other holds the back of your neck, pushing your face to his chest. 
“C’mon, don’t cry.  You know how awful that makes me feel.” he presses a gentle kiss to your head, rocking your bodies back and forth, comforting you as if you were a child throwing a tantrum.
“You left me no choice. You were gonna leave me, abandon me like I never meant anything to you.” his voice is almost quiet and you know that if you looked up, his face would resemble a kicked puppy.
It almost makes you feel bad until the stupid chain in your ankle clinks, reminding you that Keigo isn’t a good man. 
“But it’s okay now. I know you’re not happy with… our current situation, but you’ll soon see it my way. I’m doing this for you - for us.” 
His arms tightened around your wriggling body, keeping you close to him. 
“I’m not letting anything get between us. Not even you.”
Tumblr media
643 notes · View notes
thatfreshi · 9 months
Text
Forever and Ever (Astarion x Reader)
I'm going to sob and throw up everywhere this was so incredibly sweet.
Tw - mention of scars (i think that's it)
Recommended Song: Ronson Princess - Clarence James
Waking up to the sunlight gleaming through the red fabric, you and Astarion wrapped in each other's arms. It's odd for you to wake up before him, especially since he doesn't have to sleep all that much, but he's been particularly stressed the past couple of days. Baldur's Gate has brought up a lot of unpleasant memories, things he would've rather left behind. But sadly, everything has brought you back here, and he still wants Cazador dead. Perhaps that's what's weighing on him so heavily, knowing facing his master is so close.
You stare at his sleeping face for a long while, letting the sun continue trickling in, knowing soon he won't get this, soon that freedom of being in the sun, it'll be taken from him, just like everything else. Today you've prepared very special plans, kindly getting everyone to leave camp for the day. Before things change drastically, you want him to have something nice, a day without fighting, a day without talking about Cazador, a day without walking past taverns that he'd rather forget. You continue to smile at him, as his eyelids slowly flicker open. He smirks.
"I can practically hear you staring at me you know."
"Well good, at least you know how gorgeous I think you are."
You leave a kiss on his nose. Locking his fingers into yours, you start tracing his knuckles, all the little lines, tiny scars from fights, the callouses on his palm. He'd deny that he had them to anyone else.
"So... I have a surprise for you."
His ears perk up.
"Oh really? Whatever did I do to deserve such a thing?"
"You know I've said this a million times, but you don't have to do anything to deserve a gift my love. I just know you've been really stressed since we got back in the city, so I thought it would be nice if we had a day away from everything, just to ourselves."
"As if we could ever get time to ourselves with our hooligan friends."
You grin.
"That's the best part, I got them all to go do something else today, so we have the entire camp to ourselves!"
You feel a little bad, being so excited that your friends are leaving you alone, but Astarion likes the quiet. Sure, he's a performer, making little quips in a crowd, but it's that solitude, especially with you, that he cherishes. Maybe he was Stockholmed into it, being forced to be alone so often, but it was usually better than dealing with his 'siblings,' or Cazador. At least rats can't cut you up when they feel like having a good time.
"You seriously kicked out all of our friends so we could be alone for the day? However did you manage that?"
"I may have put some of your manipulation tactics to use..."
Last night, you just so happened to make an off-handed comment about something that would interest each of them. It wasn't too hard, especially since everyone in your group is obsessive over one subject at least, if not more. One by one, they decided they'd spend the day checking out something in the city.
"I have never been more in love with you."
You lock lips, running your hands through his hair, realizing that quite uncharacteristically, he hasn't washed it in days. He's usually quite ritualistic with his appearance, no doubt due to how he always had to look perfect. The habits simply stuck around, but he doesn't mind all that much.
"So, I have a whole day of activities planned!"
He sighs, thinking you mean some intensive itinerary.
"Okay maybe not activities, but nice little calming things to do. I call it... self-care day."
You look way too proud of yourself, and Astarion makes it known.
"What, dear gods, is self-care day? I am all for caring about yourself, as I am spectacular, but an entire day?"
"Yes. It's supposed to be overkill. Just a whole day of absolute bullshit, so you don't have to worry about anything!"
"As if I have ever gone a day without worrying."
You sit up, lifting him up to sit with you.
"Well, we're going to try, because you deserve it. Pleaseeeeee, I just want to spoil you."
He can't ignore your pleading, especially when you look at him with those soft eyes, a gaze that could ask for anything and he'd oblige.
"Alright fine, I will follow along on your self-care day, even if it sounds a little silly."
"Great! So, remember how I went out after dinner last night, and I told you that you couldn't come with me because I was doing something super special and secret?"
"Oh, when I was terrified of you roaming the city by yourself? No, why would I remember that at all?"
His voice is absolutely dripping in sarcasm.
"You know as well as anyone that I can take care of myself, you just like being a chivalrous piece of shit to people that are mean to me."
He shrugs.
"Yes. That sounds entirely reasonable, why would I not do that?"
"Okay yes whatever you like protecting me blah blah blah. We're getting away from the story. I found lots of cool little things, for example..."
Your voice trails off as you dig through your bag, trying to find the cloth sack you got your hands on yesterday. After you find it, you slowly open the pouch.
"I found your favorite tea!"
It's quite a particular brew, one you're pretty sure was made in this city. It's almost impossible to find anywhere else, and when you find it here, it's usually expensive. You hand the bag to him, and he takes in the scent. Blackberry, lavender, ginger, and a couple notes of citrus. Is it way too complex? Yes, quite, but he likes to dissect the flavor, focusing on the different components in the drink.
"You remember that thing I said, what was it... about saving money for, oh I don't know, a place to live after this? You know this is far too expensive my dear."
"It's fine, I can pickpocket a few people."
He laughs.
"You mean I can pickpocket a few people and you'll say you were there for moral support?"
"Yes."
Astarion simply sighs, because if he didn't love you, gods would he absolutely hate you. You could probably say the same thing about him though, so at least you're even. He grabs two cups from somewhere in the mess of his belongings, and the two of you make your way to the dying campfire. As you grab some water from one of the carafes, he adds some more wood to the fire, casting ignis instead of actually putting in the work to start a fire. Usually you would tease him about how he doesn't know how to start a fire, but today he's allowed to take the easy way out. You begin boiling the water for your tea.
"Okay, time for surprise number two while surprise number one is still cooking up."
"Oh, a second surprise?"
"It's self-care day, not self-care hour. There are many surprises to come."
You quickly walk to Gale's tent, bringing back a charcuterie board, filled with small finely cut fruits and mini cheese wedges.
"Ta-da!"
Astarion takes in the beauty of the spread, his heart fluttering a little. Sure, he doesn't have to eat, but he certainly lives for the finer things in life, and a charcuterie board is one of them. After all, eating things that aren't bloody animals makes him feel a little more normal. You smile, realizing he's actually excited and isn't relentlessly teasing you.
"I bought them last night and had Gale put together the spread this morning. I know it's less romantic but-"
"No my sweet it's... it's wonderful."
The two of you eat heart shaped strawberries and little pieces of cheese while you wait for the tea to brew.
"I know I joked a lot, but I do really appreciate all of this darling. It's nice, to know someone cares about me this much. Especially to know that you care about me this much."
"Of course my love. You deserve this and so much more."
You kiss his neck, leaving a little bit of juice from the strawberries. It's hard sometimes for Astarion to remind himself that the worst is behind him, that all he has to do now is deal with his master, and he can finally leave all of this shit behind him. He can finally have that life he wants, with you in some nice house, sleeping together in a nice bed every single day. It's also hard to remember that you love him, that he isn't some charity case you picked up, that you do all of this out of the kindness of your heart. He thought for the longest time that no one was truly kind, and that if they were, they were going to be dead soon enough, and yet he would do anything it took to keep you safe, one of the kindest souls he's ever met. He tears up a little, thinking about how you would care this much, that anyone could care this much about him.
"Are you okay Aster?"
You wipe a tear off his cheek.
"Yes, I'm alright. Just sentimental, that's all."
The way his eyes get wide when he cries, as if he's letting the world in for once, you always notice it.
"That's okay, you can cry all you want. Besides, usually makes you feel better after."
While you're consoling him, you pour out two cups of tea, handing him the first. You take a sip, realizing why this is his favorite. Sure, it's a lot going on, but there's something luxurious about it, soothing, as if made for royalty. Astarion wipes at a couple of his tears, and takes a sip.
"I'm serious though Tav, you have got to stop spending all of our money after this. I'll take this one nice day, but after that, it's back to pinching pennies for us."
Always worried, always thinking about the next thing, always five steps ahead. He's always had to be, playing his life like chess, knowing he's a pawn in some far greater game, knowing if he makes one wrong move he'll lose everything. You don't blame him one bit. After all, the two of you do need enough money to buy a place after all of this is over, and yet you don't worry about it, knowing you'll figure it out. Things have worked out for you so far, and they'll continue to. They simply must.
"Alright, deal."
After sitting and drinking your tea for a while, talking about what you want in the house when you finally buy it, you lead him down to the nearby creek so you can wash his hair.
"Now I know what you're going to say-"
"What, that I could simply do it myself and that you don't have to do something ridiculous like wash my hair for me?"
"Yes... something like that, yeah."
"Then why would you even try asking if you could?"
"Because I love you, and I want to, and I don't want you to have to worry about it."
You stay silent for a second.
"...and I may have bought a really nice shampoo from a store in the city even though I probably shouldn't have splurged but I just want you to have nice things..."
You make those puppy eyes at him, expecting him to say no or give you some lecture.
"Alright, if you insist."
"Wait, really?"
"Yes. Now go ahead and start before I change my mind and lecture you about how to properly bargain for things."
Now this, is a truly rare occurrence. He's so particular about his hair, to the point where he has to fix it every time you mess with it. You swiftly fill a bucket of water and take the nice shampoo out of your bag, putting yet another strawberry in your mouth.
"Seems like you're enjoying the strawberries much more than I am."
He says as he turns his back to you, the two of you sitting in the grass by the creek.
"Hey, it's a board for the both of us. If you're not eating off of it, that's your loss."
You mumble while still chewing on the fruit. He realizes you're right and grabs another piece of cheese before you eat it all. You motion for him to take his shirt off so he doesn't get water all over it, and soon you start working through his hair. It's sadly become quite knotted the past couple of days, due to neglect from the slump he's been in. You try your best not to get sad about it, knowing it's the truest sign of just how out of it he's been. Between dirt and knots and dried blood, there's plenty for you to work through, slowly but surely cleaning it all out, combing through it along the way.
"Are you sure I'm not going to look like a wet cat when you're done?"
You laugh at him.
"Hey, I never said anything about styling, just that I'd wash it. How it looks after is on you."
You don't see it, but he smiles. He has this moment of realization, a sense of clarity. This is it. The thing he's wanted all his life, he's found it, and it's someone so unlike him. And yet somehow, here you were, madly in love, eating fruit and cheese by the water, simply taking care of each other.
"I want it to stay like this forever."
He says suddenly. Your face lights up.
"Me too."
You put down the comb, wrapping your arms over the tops of his shoulders. He holds onto your hands, as if he's realizing for the first time just how real you are. You're here, and he's here, and you're in love. What a wonderful thing, to truly be in love, to have a plan, to have a future. He never really had a future, just a present, day after day. But now there's hope, a life after today, and tomorrow, and the day after.
"Would you do this again sometime? This whole, self-care thing with me? It's been quite nice."
You leave a couple of kisses on his shoulder, and he feels you smile into his skin.
"Of course. As many times as you want my love. Forever and ever."
889 notes · View notes
maidenvault · 26 days
Text
Okay so, Crosshair’s hand.
Has anyone pointed this out? When Crosshair kills Nolan, he doesn't use his shooting hand.
Tumblr media
He uses his left. Just as he very significantly has to in the series finale.
I don't know if the writers knew as far back as "The Outpost" that Crosshair was going to lose the use of his shooting hand and by extension everything he believed made him strong, a "superior" clone, and safe from being discarded when he was kind of fascism-pilled. But it feels extra significant in retrospect that his first action taken against the Empire is not done with the hand associated with the terrible things he did as an Imperial sniper. And it's after he just got a difficult lesson about how his own personal strength and skills aren't enough to protect him - he was saved twice by Mayday, then possibly only survived through the night because he wouldn't leave him behind and could share his body heat. He may be using his left hand when he shoots Nolan because his other arm is tired from supporting Mayday all the way back, which only adds to the symbolic touch I love that Mayday is using his rifle as a crutch to help him walk as well (and of course, he's at close range so quite meaningfully Crosshair doesn't use the rifle to shoot here either). It all supports the idea of this as the first huge moment of transformation for Crosshair when he's finally turning his fire on the real enemy out of a desire to protect others, however futile and too late it is in this particular situation.
Going back and noticing this really reinforced for me that Crosshair's hand injury probably isn't just meant as a manifestation of his trauma related to Tantiss. It would make sense considering it's his shooting hand that it also has something to do with his inner conflict regarding his changed relationship with violence and killing.
The Batch were introduced as these stereotypically macho soldier characters, an impression that's softened a little as early as the pilot of TBB but still distinguishes them a little from other clones. In a kind of funny way you can look at the whole series as being about these guys who were only brought up to fight gradually discovering and finding peace with their more traditionally feminine sides - literally because of Omega, a female version of themselves who shows them the possibilities of being a family and living for others instead of for violence.
For Crosshair this journey is much more difficult and like a painful rebirth than it is for anyone else because being a soldier was so much of his identity. He's always been the one to most pointedly distinguish his squad from regs because of their "superior" traits that he thinks will make the Empire value them, and he clearly internalized the way the Kaminoans only care about clones as weapons to be used in war. And it all betrays how little value Crosshair actually believes he has deep down. It was easy to go into S3 being especially worried about his fate because he's believed so long that he's not good for anything but fighting and he's the character it was the hardest to imagine adjusting to a different life.
But in retrospect, it was stupid to think they'd let him off that easy and of course the whole point is that it takes a lot to get him there. What exactly he went through on Tantiss beyond the electroshock torture we've seen is never delved into but personally, I think being a soldier is something that's poisoned for Crosshair after he becomes a victim of the Empire himself and subject to their attempts at reconditioning. He's not psychologically able to be that person anymore, but for a long time is still trying to largely rely on himself and his own strength. He tries to sacrifice himself for others because he's still holding onto that part of himself in a way.
But for once in Star Wars we've gotten a fully realized redemption arc showing that sometimes what's harder than giving your life in a redemptive way is to actually have to figure out how to live with the bad things you've done and be better. Some of the people Crosshair hurt were his family, and he has to learn he can only make things better by being there for them. He has to learn that he actually can survive and figure out a way forward from his life as a soldier if he lets himself rely on them, just like he only survived Barton IV with help from Mayday. As @moonstrider9904 explains so well in this post, that is what's so important about Crosshair losing the hand and making that final shot to save Omega with Hunter's support. Symbolically he's had that toxic part of himself actually cut off and it's the final, most painful part of his rebirth. But because of that he's forced to find that he can live on without it, that he's surrounded by people who love and believe in him anyway, and that having superhuman skills as a killer was never what gave him worth.
No, having his shooting hand cut off doesn't "fix" anything or mean that Crosshair is healed. He's probably only begun to recover from everything he's been through. But all we really need to see is that he's firmly found his place as part of a family instead of a squad, and he's not going to be alone as he deals with all of that.
274 notes · View notes
Note
Jack Concept: Helping him get ready for the Met Gala 🤭
The First Monday in May
Tumblr media
“Are you gonna see the princesses there, Daddy?” Brooklyn was wide eyed on the phone, her face incredibly close to the screen as she Facetimed with Jack, who was planted on the edge of the hotel bed. He could hear Aaliyah’s cooing in the background and the sound of Ms. Rachel on the TV, a smile forming on his face at the sounds of home.
“I don’t know baby, but if I do see one, I’ll tell them that I have a baby girl at home who loves them so much.” Jack chuckled at the sight of Brooklyn’s wide smile, her excitement palpable. He tried his best to explain the MET Gala to a four-year-old, but once she heard the theme was “Sleeping Beauty”, anything else he said didn’t matter and she was convinced it was going to be a Disney Princess party.  
You emerged out of the hotel bathroom still in the comfy robe you put on this morning, the sight of Jack in a tank top and boxers with his dress socks already on making you laugh. As Brooklyn talked her dad’s ear off about her dream last night, you looked out the window of the Mark Hotel, a historic landmark of New York City where celebrities got ready for the Met Gala. The red carpet was bordered by photographers and fans ready to usher guests to the main event. The fact that the gala started in about an hour and Jack still wasn’t dressed didn’t surprise you at all.
The entire city was ready for the First Monday in May, but your husband was dragging his feet. You didn’t want his nerves to get the best of him, so you offered to join him on the trip to the city and help him get ready, and while he was gone you booked an evening at the hotel spa. Large events like this just weren’t his thing, and he could think of a hundred things he’d rather be doing, number one on his list laying in this bed with you for the rest of the day.
Only, you didn’t expect it to be so hard to get him dressed. If he wasn’t sleeping through his alarm in the morning so he missed his scheduled haircut, or dragging out breakfast- and lunch-, he was doing everything to stall getting ready. A five-minute check in call with his mom and the girls turned into a 30-minute facetime session, and you were starting to get impatient. You gave your husband a gentle but stern look that told him he was going to be late if he didn’t get off the phone.
“Ooh, Mama’s giving me the look”, Jack chuckled as he looked up at you, “I think I’ve gotta go. I love you, B. Give grandma and sister a big hug for me, okay?” He hung up the phone with a loud sigh. “Alright, I’ll get dressed.”
He disappeared into the closet, coming out a couple minutes later in an unbuttoned white dress shirt, and gray tailored dress pants that hit perfectly just below the ankle. He shuffled over to you, where you were standing at the window. You took your time slipping each delicate button into the matching hole as you made your way down the placket.
“I can’t believe you’re wearing Dior this year”, you remarked with a smile, but Jack’s mind was elsewhere, staring out into the distance.
“My mom said Liyah’s cough is gone.” He pulled the memory from his mind as he stroked at his trimmed beard.
“That’s good”, you responded, watching his face intently. “If you see Nas in there, tell him I’m still waiting on our Uno rematch.”
As if he didn’t hear you, he rattled off another piece of info from his call. “Brooklyn said she wants a pink Sleeping Beauty dress. I’ll have Ava order one for her.” His head dropped as he watched you button the last button. You rested your hands on his chest, garnering his attention.
“Why do you keep changing the subject, babe?”
“I’m not, I just wanted to tell you everything, so I don’t forget.” Even though his lie was convincing, his crystal-clear blue eyes gave it away. You knew he didn’t like these events, but something else was bothering him.
It was unlike Jack to be insecure, he knew how to work a room, and shift the environment in his favor.
You gently stroked his cheek with a soft smile before walking away to find your phone. You scrolled through your music playlists and found the perfect song to help him get out of his head. “U Know What’s Up” by Donnell Jones played through the tiny speakers. You turned to Jack, already busting out your best dance moves, and you could see that he was starting to relax.
“I thought I was supposed to get dressed?”, he questioned with a chuckle, but you were too busy twerking on your husband to stop. “Not until you dance with me!”
It only took a minute or two for Jack to start full out dancing with you. You were sure some fans downstairs could see the spectacle the two of you were making, but in that moment, it was only about the man you loved the most.
When both of you were out of breath, Jack grabbed at your hips and pulled your back to lay against his chest. He slowly swayed you back and forth as the music changed to a 90s R&B slow song, his arms wrapped around your waist, yours draped atop his.
“How do you do that?” Jack’s question made you crane your neck to look to the side. “Do what?”
“Get me out of my head like that?” You squealed when he quickly turned you around to face him, pressing your body against his chest. “You always know what to do.” He leaned in for a soft kiss, and you met him the rest of the way, cupping his cheeks in your hand. “That’s my job, to remind you that you can do anything you want to, and to be by your side, always.” You pulled him in for a tight hug, feeling him sink into your hold.
“Do you wanna talk about what’s bothering you?” You mumbled against his shirt. Jack lifted his head to look at you.
“Do you ever think about how some things mean nothing to you”, he gestured out to the growing crowd outside of the hotel, “and some things mean the world?” You didn’t even need him to show you he meant you and the girls.
“Why do things that mean nothing to me, when I could be with my family?”
Your heart swelled with love but also broke for Jack, knowing that he had probably been torn up about this for a while. You grabbed his hands, interlacing your fingers with his as you spoke. “Yes”, you gingerly nodded your head, “but I also realized that when I have the things that mean the world to me, I get to let go of the stress of everything else. You get to celebrate your successes, knowing that your family is right there waiting for you.”
“There you go again.” Jack smiled, pulling you in for another kiss, this time letting his lips linger against yours. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“I can think of a couple of things”, you joked with a laugh, “but one thing you’re not going to do is be late for the fashion event of the year.” You ran to the closet and grabbed his suit jacket and shoes. You watched as he got dressed, pinning the final touch on his lapel.
“How do I look?”, he gave you a spin, looking handsome as ever in the perfectly tailored Dior suit, his controlled curls and fantastic smile the stars of the show.
“You look like you better come straight back here after this. I will be “loose” after my massage.” Jack’s eyes went wide before he gave you one last kiss. As he tried to break away, you kept a tight grip on his bicep, holding him against your body. “Are you sure I have to go?”, he whispered as his gaze dropped to your lips, his hands slipping inside of your robe to caress your soft skin. You contemplated it for a second, before a knock at the door ruined your decision-making ability.
“Come on, man. You’re gonna be late.” You could hear Urban’s muffled voice on the other side of the door. Still, Jack was willing to ditch the MET gala, all you had to do was ask.
“Go”, you gave his chest a push, gesturing him toward the door. “I’ll have room service waiting for you when you get back”, you called after him.
“Good”, Jack got one more good look at you before opening the door. “You know how much the food at these events sucks.”
221 notes · View notes
calisources · 8 months
Text
Tumblr media
IN LOVE AND WAR, EVERYTHING GOES. a sentence meme based around the subject of allies, enemies, war and enemies to lovers and more of the same tropes we all love. change pronouns, names and locations as you see fit. these are all scrambled around.
“Friends ask you questions; enemies question you.”
“You can live safe and be protected by people just like you, or you can stand up and be a leader for what is right.”
“Where do we find allies?"
“War created bizarre allies, while peace itself could be divisive.”
“I promise you, nothing will happen to you.”
“I choose my allies carefully and my enemies more carefully still.”
“People fight wars over ideas.” 
“Wars begin when you will, but they do not end when you please.”
“I was raised in hatred, Roma. I could never be your lover, only your killer.”
“We were enemies, no matter the truths. No matter that I loved him.”
“He’d set fire to the world around him but never let a flame touch her.”
“She's not the type to swoon for pretty lies.”
“The feud keeps taking and hurting and killing and still I couldn't stop loving you even when I thought I hated you.”
“These violent delights have violent ends."
“Men without morals are dangerous beasts.”
“The spiteful, little stars.”
“Death is real. Death is inevitable. Death comes when you're not ready for it. Be ready.”
“I was alive, but I wasn’t living. You took things from me. My soul―my heart.”
“You’re supposed to keep your enemies close. Therefore, it stands to reason that your sworn enemy should be kept closest.”
“When will you see I'm not your enemy, but your weapon. Wield me.”
“Can’t even get out of my grasp? Or is it because you secretly don’t want to?”
“Why are you confessing all of your crimes?”Are you trying to get hit?”
“You're a hero and I'm a monster. There's only one way that story ever ends.”
"Tell me you came to find me. That you changed your mind."
"How--how can you even say such things,on an evening you are meant to choose another as your bride?"
"My sweet nemesis, how glad I am that you returned."
"I hate you so much that sometimes I can't think of anything else.”
“The road for hell for me is paved with everything I would do for you, and that list never ends.”
“You have consumed my thoughts since the moment I met you."
“You have no idea what I could give you."
“If you mean to take me captive, you need only ask. I would come willingly.”
“I see you truly for everything you are and everything you will be and I claim you as mine.”
“I don't think I've ever met anyone as vexing as you."
“Always forgive your enemies; nothing annoys them so much.”
“A wise man gets more use from his enemies than a fool from his friends.”
"We're on opposite sides, you know."
"You're the one claiming we're all villains. There's no black or white, only gray area. We can coexist somewhere in the middle, can't we?”
“A man with no enemies is a man with no character.”
“I smile to myself knowing that they may be dead.”
“I like your savage brutality."
"That's a poetic observation, coming from such a savage creature.”
"And you are mine, Victor Nox. whether you agree is irrelevant.”
“Bitter people are not interested in what you say, but what you hide.”
“Enemies can't break your spirit, only friends can.”
“In order to know your enemy, you must become your enemy.”
“Such a pretty face, but so weak and emotional. Just a regular man, after all.”
583 notes · View notes
psychelis-new · 1 year
Text
pick a pile: "People's first impression of you"
take a breath and choose the photo or number that calls you the most to read what kind of first impression you generally leave on people you randomly meet both irl and online. Please beware I will focus on your person's first impression of you in another pac. There're similar pacs on Instagram (@/psychelis.new) too, if you need confirmations or a different outlook.
Music channeling has to be taken mostly for vibes/titles this time
don’t take the reading too seriously. only take what resonates with you and leave the rest. if you're not called by any pile, let this reading slid as it may not hold messages for you. if you're called by more than one pile, there may be messages in each of those piles. remember that is a general reading and some things may not resonate with you. energies can change and readings are based on present ones (as you read); you're always in charge of your life.
(photos found on unsplash)
- ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ -
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
1 2 3 4 - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ -
pile 1
People sees you as someone determined and passionate. You may come out as a very powerful person, strong-willed (especially in your career/studies) and they may feel you are quite the leader. Some may feel intimidated by you even, but still deeply respect you and be inspired by you in a way. You may be considered as impulsive sometimes, and a bit stand-offish, but this comes mostly from people that kinda envy you. I do think you are kinda considerate and pretty grounded, at least on most days. Some people may be attracted by you, you probably emanate this light of security and confidence that attracts people; and you may be also kinda seen as someone who is able to reach anything in their life and doesn't have many problems (you may be a private person). I do think there's something in the way you dress, in your smile or look, that really shows your confidence (when we do something we love and aren't self conscious but focus on that, we do look confident no matter if we feel we are or not) and people really likes that. It could also be the way you dance or your body moves when you're with friends or something.
song: you're the one that i want | lo-fang
- ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ -
pile 2
You're a sweet caring type, maybe a bit shy, but still very warm to others and deeply respectful. Your energy is a bit nervous at times, it could be for social situations in particular. A little "all over the place", like you may forget stuff and then remember all of a sudden once you're doing something else (and need to interrupt what you're doing to move on that other subject). People think you're cute though. You may be on the little side (you're short/thin/small) but it doesn't have to be. The way you act makes you look in need to be protected and comforted. You are youthful too, your smile is so very kind and warm, but somehow you tend to fear showing it at times (probably you're a bit insecure about your appearance and try to downplay yourself or you try to hide yourself... you may not enjoy too much staying under the spotlight). You are seen as someone very positive but also kinda moody, with lots of energy's ups and downs. People notice when you feel uneasy or something troubles you. At times you may fear being too much, especially when you're hyped. But you're not (and if someone sees you as so, it's not on you). People feel good when being with you, you're "comfortable" (people may randomly open up to you). You know how to make people feel at ease/seen. You may bring hope to people just through your presence.
song: until i found you | stephen sanchez
- ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ -
pile 3
People sees you as warm, joyful and optimistic. You're also giving grounded and kinda "mature" vibes. It's like... you let others see you without many filters, you know where to put a fullstop or put boundaries to others (many may wrongly label you because of this as cold or rude). You value your space and you don't let others' opinions of you affect you too much. People may see you as giving and also as deserving of good things. You look very warm-hearted, you probably support others in some way or volunteer. You trust your guts more often than not and people sees you as brave too. You look very collected and even after sharing a few words, they may fall for your mind and the way you articulate your words and thoughts. You're very determined and positive. You don't mind being seen for who you are or to comfort others through your personal experience. They see you as someone important in their life and many would like to keep you in their life for as long as possible. You may inspire others with your words and many may try to copy you or use your words as if they were theirs. You don't seem too annoyed though. You're not that easily annoyed or worried (or if you are at first, you have learned how to deal with it and look at it from a different perspective). You may even get haters but you don't give them what they want. [feels like you're kinda "famous" and have fans and haters, even just after first impressions]
song: what you heard | sonder
- ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ -
pile 4 (this pile is longer but there's a reason)
You seem pretty reserved, even closed off. You probably are in an hermit period or you just don't trust others very much. It may be also that you're healing parts of yourself and you are more on your own, and despite you'd like to not feel alone, you kinda ended up into this cycle/habits of closing off to others. You may be a bit too fixed in your mentality. It's black or white and nothing else. You need to like or dislike something (or someone), there's no space for uncertainty... as if uncertainty was something unbearable. It feels too unsafe for you (root chakra unbalanced). You think through boxes. The fact that other possibilities may exist, seems a concept that is too far from you: the fact that grey may exists as well and be as correct as black or white, is strange... no, it's almost impossible. So this is what happens with people too: you may start talking with someone but if they don't check all the points of your list and think exactly as you even on things like pineapple on pizza, you kinda tell yourself "No, this is not a good person for me". But people are just people: they can have a trait that annoys us and we can still love them anyway. You need to learn on what you can compromise out of your values. Be a little more accepting and welcoming. If you don't let your guard down a little, nobody will dare to climb the walls you have buildt around you and will leave. Let's suppose you like someone and you'd like to know them better: would you like to have to do all the work by yourself? Come up with what to ask, where to go, and maybe not get any answer or reaction... it'd feel like they don't care and you're talking to a wall and wasting time, right? I'm sure this behaviour you have picked up originates from a trauma of some kind, so I hope you can find out how to deal with it and heal it, at least a bit. Step by step, slowly but with determination. Be kind with yourself if you fall back into that habit here and there on your path, it's fine. It's not something one stops doing in a day or a couple of months. Give yourself (and others) time. You immediately close off to others the moment you feel "betrayed" cause they say something you don't agree with... give them time to show you who they are for real and don't take it all so personally. It doesn't have to be all about you (not in a bad way, you may feel attacked by random comments/ideas cause you feel unsafe/don't agree and fear being pushed into the person's "dislike"-box. So you dislike them first to avoid that... but that's unnecessary). People do like you, they think very well of you all the times ("you're interesting"); but you need to stop worrying about their judgement and not scare them away cause of your fear of letting them in. Let in also people you may find different from you and may "trigger" you. You don't have to become close friends or have a romantic relationship with them (nor with anyone entering your life even just by chance), you can just have a chat and learn to be more open and accepting of other povs and thoughts (nobody is here to change yours, unless you feel the need to for yourself).
song: bravado | lorde
782 notes · View notes
officialspec · 3 months
Note
What do you think gay men are attracted to in men that they can’t be attracted to in women?
It can’t be anything about femininity or masculinity obviously. That’s both sexist, and cultural so can’t be what drives men-only attraction.
It can’t be anything about stated identity because someone could lie just as easily as they could tell the truth in such a statement, and it makes no sense because homosexuality and heterosexuality exists in other species with no stated identities. It’s not like other animals without gender are all pan.
Saying idk it’s the vibes or some indescribable trait men have that women can’t but “I can’t explain” is a nonanswer.
Soooooooo what is it? Or do you think any sexuality but bi/pan is just cultural performance or an identity rather than an inborn orientation?
- [ ]
first off i hate this ask and i think youre a freak. in any other world i wouldve blocked you for this but unfortunately for both of us i actually like this type of philosophy. dont send this shit to anyone else though
i dont think its right to compare human sexuality to the same thing in animals, to get that out of the way. im sure until a certain point it comes from the same biological impulses, but human beings have way more complicated social structures and reasons for coupling that just do not exist in other animals. our social behaviours are what make us unique in the animal kingdom and that definitely extends to gender and sexuality. so theres that
people love to tout 'gender is a social construct' around like its a criticism in and of itself, which i think betrays a misunderstanding about social constructs in general. theyre the foundations we build language on to better understand each other, and affected by a whole host of cultural and historical factors. just because theyre subjective and complicated doesnt mean they arent real. in terms of the effect they have on peoples lives they may be the most real thing that exists
for example, 'kindness' is a social construct. the definition and ways it is enacted differ greatly across personal and cultural lines. but no one would ever suggest a world where kindness doesnt exist or loses meaning, because its an essential part of the way we interact with each other (in the same way i dont really see a world where gender entirely ceases to exist, mainly just one where people have more fun with it. im not a psychic though so who knows)
similarly, sexuality in humans is another social construct. i think the driving biological forces behind it are very real, but the labels people attach to those impulses are subjective attempts to express their inner world to the people around them if that makes sense. and those same biological impulses are ALSO subject to social ideas of gender, because those ideas are established at birth and reinforced over a persons entire lifetime
to use myself as an example, im a gay trans man. ive identified as other things in the past, because i was trying to pick apart feelings i had and express them to others in an attempt to find community. my identity might change as i get older and experience new things, or it might not. i identify as gay because im not attracted to the social concept of women, and someone i would otherwise be attracted to might lose all appeal after i find out they fall under that concept (this has happened before w transfems pre and post coming out lol)
of course, the real REAL answer to this is that trying to give queer identities rigid and objective definitions is a fools errand, and also lame as fuck. someone might identify as gay and be more attracted to general masculinity than men as a social category, maybe they fool around with a couple of butch women without considering themself any less gay. two otherwise identical people might be a butch lesbian and a gay trans man without either of those identities coming into conflict. they might even be the same person at different times of the week
the labels people choose to use are communication tools, not objective signifiers. if you dont understand them, they probably arent talking to you
social constructs are everything. we as humans have the unique ability to interpret our own messy desires and impulses into words that other people can use to form an idea of someone else in their mind. its how we build connections, and of course it isnt perfect because trying to squeeze someones entire personal history and the centuries of context that defined it into a handful of syllables is going to leave some room for error. but its all we have, yknow? so we keep trying. and i think thats much more human than any imposed objective 'truth' could ever be
tldr we live in a society dipshit. get with it
176 notes · View notes
dedalvs · 4 months
Note
Hi David! Hope you’re having a nice day.
Do you have any tips for people who want to create a casual conlang, as in only for like a pen & paper game or a story they’re writing, where they want to coin some phrases and have a recognisable and somewhat realistic sound but can’t put in all of the background work that really goes into what you do?
Thanks for your time!
Yes I do! I recommend you read a short paper by Jeffrey Henning called "A Naming Language" (you can find it at Fiat Lingua). This will tell you how to create a small language sketch that will allow you to create just enough of a phonology and basic grammatical decisions to create names in your language. What it won't help you do is create complex syntax and inflection required for full scale translation. Now, when I say that, you might be thinking, like, to translate a novel or a political tract, or something like that, but frankly, translating something like, "Can you hand me that wrench over there?" is complex enough. Embedded in that one sentence is choices you have to make about:
Polar question formation
Abilitive/permissive modality
Potential subject/object concord
Demonstratives
Spatial location systems
Pronoun systems
Now this all works in a specific way in English, but it will work in a different specific way in every other language. Some things that English is sensitive too others may not be (for example, English changes word order when changing from a statement to a question; other languages don't do that), but other languages may be sensitive to things English isn't (for example, a language like Georgian has verbs that agree with both the subject, direct object, and indirect object. English doesn't do that). All of these are decisions you have to make (or make implicitly) when designing a language.
I mention all this so you understand what exactly you'll have when you create a language sketch—what you can do and what you can't. With a language sketch, you can create names, you can create single words, you can create derivations, even phrases that don't resolve to anything (like "Cool!" that is a word with one meaning but used to mean something else). You can't translate full sentences. If you do, what you'll either be doing is either (a) creating actual grammar, which is what you do when creating a full language, or (b) unconsciously recreating the grammar of another language (e.g. unconsciously copying the grammar of English).
It is within everyone's capabilities to create a language sketch in no more than a week—perhaps even an hour or two. As long as you know exactly what you can and can't do with it, you can plan accordingly for your fiction—and a sketch can always be expanded into a full conlang later!
195 notes · View notes
vampirae · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Astrology Observations
I've seen many people saying that air mars are less likely to be aggressive or getting physical in a fight, in part it's true but not all. Gemini mars will say hurtful things or straight up ridicule you that you'll need weeks to recover from it. Aquarius mars will shout and be so damn aggressive in their speech that you'll get immediately afraid of them, the type to really make you consider calling cops on them. I mean you could do, they wouldn't fucking care, they're here to cause drama. Meanwhile Libra mars, oh damn, if they're angry af, they wouldn't ponder, they'll straight up punch you the face. This happens because of their cardinal nature, which essence is dynamic, action oriented, starting up things. They can and would get physical, and really really scary.
Libra mars values peace, but people mistake them and their intentions to maintain it. If you need to slap some bitch to achieve some balance or calmness they would do it. Even through war you can achieve peace, not only by being tolerant and comprehensive or bottling up rage.
About cardinal mars, they're the most dangerous, you should really be afraid to anger them. When they're angry, they're so focused on their feelings that they don't see anything else or don't think about consequences. Also they're the least to get angry, except in youth, or aries mars. You think a Cancer, Libra or Capricorn mars wouldn't beat the shit out of you? Or wouldn't think about murdering you brutally? They can and would do it, if they lose control over themselves.
Furthermore, they have a such exciting and sensual nature, they need intimacy on daily basis and could get even really offended if they're advances are being refused or if you don't satisfy their needs. Really sluty bitches.
Also the types to get into BDSM, usually great Switches or Doms.
Honorable mention is Scorpio mars, another sluty placement, though they perform well in all BDSM roles. Also need a lot of intimacy, to the point they may get crazy or overworked if they don't get it, it's even more frustrating if they have feelings for someone or a partner. They just need to feel like they're drowned in pleasure or they will go crazy. Great partner if you look for someone wild but loyal, basically the best babyboy/master/babygirl/mistress. A big off for them, I've noticed is ménage a trois, orgy, and whatever implies changing partner. They don't love the idea of sharing their sexual energy with people they hold no interest/feelings.
All cancer men placements love boobies, not only venus or mars. Also it's not always about an abundant bust, it's also about the color, how firm they are, the form etc. They take into account so many details lol
Meanwhile libra placements men look for the booty, in this case you have to not be plain. It's not about big booty too, just to have some, they even like smaller booty too but well shaped.
Taurus mars men can be pretty libertine, sometimes even cheaters. They just enjoy attention from others, and are kinda "generous" with their dick. Similar to Sagittarius mars.
Now changing subject, there's a big debate about which of the big 3 it's the real you, well from what I've noticed it's pretty easy to spot. You have to consider your rising as the most important because without it you even wouldn't have houses etc. It's literally your life path, the choice you'll do, how you'll act etc. Literally this mf isn't only about how sexy or beautiful you're it's about how you'll fuck up your life or how you'll succeed. Plus you have to consider if you have more masculine or feminine signs in your big 3. Let's say you have your sun and moon in masculine signs but your rising in a feminine sign, what will happen? Easy, you'll be reserved, shy, you need your time to get to know people but you can dwell well in social situations and could easily make friends or gain sympathies.
Stelliums also make a huge impact, the more planets you have in a sign the stronger the impact will be, even more if you have personal planets in. So about the aforementioned topic, look at your rising sign, at your stellium sign + the feminine or masculine sign of your big 3 and Stellium. Let's say your big 3, you have a majority of masculine signs but you have a stellium in a feminine sign, how will you act? Easy, you'll try to maintain a balance or just go in cycles, one period you're the hot bitch running the show and then start your sexy mysterious hermit era.
I know that polarities (yin/yang) aren't talked about that much, but they have a huge impact on your personality, exactly like dominant modalities, elements etc.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
818 notes · View notes
thedevilspearl · 10 months
Text
author’s note ʚɞ i’m testing the waters with this one so please be kind about it. please also excuse the pet name sugar tits, i think it’s hot don’t judge me >_<
tags ʚɞ 5.6k words, dark content, mammon x female reader, bully!mammon, dubcon (forced consent), non–consensual photo taking, semi–public sex, (public) groping, blowjob, degradation, name calling, praise, pet names, humiliation kink, breeding kink, dacryphillia. minors do not interact!
Tumblr media
ʏᴏᴜ’ᴠᴇ ʜᴀᴅ ɪᴛ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴍᴀᴍᴍᴏɴ and his antics. it’s beyond ridiculous at this point. never did you imagine becoming his target but when you think about it long enough, you realise your whole existence in the devildom was set up to be a laughing stock from the beginning.
back when you had just arrived, he acted as your tour guide but then forced you to cover his dinner duties at home. he helped you with your homework since you were new to the subjects but demanded you pay him back with all of your saved grimm. he even lent you some of his friends to help curb your homesickness only to have them report back every little detail so he could blackmail you later on.
and those kind of things happen when he’s being nice; unfortunately for you, mammon is very rarely nice. not a day goes by where he doesn’t find a way to make your life hell.
mammon, the avatar of greed, the second eldest of the powerful demon brothers, and as he likes to call himself, your first man, rarely shows kindness towards you unless he can gain something from it.
even if he gets nothing in return, he will go out of his way. from tripping you up in hallways to stealing your possessions, and forcing you to complete his homework to treating you like his lackey. anything and everything he does is in some way or another intended to bring you misery.
you’ve grown accustomed to being pushed around and laughed at for the sake of some demon’s entertainment, but there’s something else you’ve also grown used to.
the fact is, mammon gives you more attention than he gives anyone, even himself. and it’s a delusional way to think but it helps you cope with your sorrowful life in the devildom.
you’ve considered confiding in someone; surely the bullying would cease if diavolo found out mammon was harming the student exchange programme like this. but at the end of the day, mammon held more power over you than diavolo himself.
each and every decision you make, reluctantly or otherwise, gives him more power as the days go by. because you have no other choice but to go along with it; and if you don’t want to, he’ll simply blackmail you.
a while ago, you became incredibly close to knocking on lucifer’s door and confessing everything after mammon snapped pictures of you showering and threatened to post them if you didn’t do what he said. lamentably, you gave up on the effort.
if lucifer found out, he would have punished mammon. and after that, you have no doubt mammon would come after you with those big threats again. and you’ve never been in a position strong enough to fight back against him.
the pathetic little human, the bane of his life. yet, he can’t seem to stay away from you. demons are inherently evil creatures, that is a known fact. but after coming to the devildom, you learned demons are, in fact, not all monster.
they have bodies that look human and thoughts and feelings which may be questionable at time but still similar enough to the people in your own world to make you think wait a minute, they’re not all bad.
but that was before mammon revealed his irrational hatred for you. it has nothing to do with him hating humans or those weaker than him and everything to do with his dark, twisted infatuation with you. he’s the definition of cruel and demonic and you feel his animosity deep in your bones, now more than ever.
you don’t know how he did it, but staring at an empty locker where your rad uniform should be sitting boils your blood.
filled with fury, you storm out of the changing rooms in search of the demon.
mammon had already shrunk your sports kit by turning up the temperature when they were getting washed so your usually loose–fitting shorts cling to your thighs and butt. and after getting caught in the rain five minutes ago, you rushed inside to change your sodden white shirt.
but you were foolish to think things would go your way and now you’re storming through rad’s hallways with shorts riding up your ass and your bra fully visible under the wet shirt clinging to you. you’re overflowing with so much rage that you don’t care about the demons eyeing you in the tight clothes or licking their lips as you rush past them.
you spot your nemesis at the end of the hallway and for a moment, your heart stops beating. inhaling deeply, you build the courage to storm up to the white–haired demon.
he’s surrounded by his cronies, laughing at some sleazy joke that came out of his mouth and he refuses to look at you despite you standing in front of him. you know he knows you’re there. but in mammon fashion, he publicly humiliates you once again by completely ignoring you.
meanwhile, a small crowd of hungry demons gathers around you and your heart patters, shying under their interested eyes. but now is not a time to show weakness. now is the time to finally put mammon in his place, which is rather ironic since his place is among the strongest beings in all three realms and you are but a measly human.
“hey!” you shout and he rolls his eyes before finally turning to look at you.
just the sight of him infuriates you, but you’re not sure if the heat growing in your core is rooted from fury or from the way his eyes rake up and down your body. he blue orbs fall to your feet and slowly rise, taking in every detail of your frame.
little do you know, the shape of your body has him salivating. his eyes linger at your thighs, so thick and plush; your hips, so curvaceous and delicious; your tits, so tempting with your perky nipples poking through and your lacey bra visible under the wet shirt.
the tip of his tongue runs under his fangs before wetting his lips as they inch up one side of his face. as attractive as his smirk is, you want to slap it right off his face.
“what’s up, sugar tits?” he quirks his brows, nodding his head to notion the attention he has for the state of your chest, hence the nickname.
you follow his gaze downwards, fully grasping how much of your breasts were on display. you gasp, covering them but it does nothing to hide your entire ass also being showcased.
damn, mammon thinks. you might as well not be wearing any underwear with how tightly your shorts are pressed against your pussy. he can see everything.
“i knew ya were a desperate little thing,” mammon taunts. “but i didn’t think you’d be so dumb to come beg for me in front of everyone.”
“i didn’t come to beg!” you yell, cowering as the crowd fills with laughs and jeers.
“then what did ya come for?” mammon rolls his eyes.
“i came here to…”
“….to what?” mammon steps closer. his scent is intoxicating as it surrounds you. “ya came here to yell at me, the great mammon?”
“n-no….” you mutter, suddenly afraid of his close proximity. with ever step forward he makes, you take one back which ends with your back against the wall and his big frame caging you against it.
he creates a little cave between your bodies that holds barely enough air for you to breathe. just like always, he controls you in any situation. if he doesn’t want you to breathe, he will simply steal all the air you could possibly breathe. and that means locking you tightly between his body and the wall will suffocate you as much as he wants it to, regardless of your pleas for forgiveness.
“i’m sorry....i–i shouldn’t have yelled at you....i didn’t mean to.”
whatever flattery you have in your tone fails to do the job as he closes in, the space between you negligent while you try to figure out a way to escape.
but as your body heats up from mammon forcing proximity, his hands begin to roam your body and you lose the ability to think straight.
“aww, the little human’s blushing. ya like me being this close?” you whimper against him, but he leans in to your ear and whispers, “want me to touch you?”
a quiet but still audible gasp drifts to his ears and he reigns in the delicacy of the sound. such a sweet, pretty sound. he simply needs to hear it again.
“you do, don’t you?” he chuckles lowly. “just say the words and i’ll do it.”
despite every cell in your brain rooting against you, you quietly whisper back to him, “please.... please touch me.”
a rumble sounds in his chest, growling from the pleasure of you inviting him to touch you. the heat radiates from your body, your desperation oozing from your pores. and there’s something else coming from your body, something you’re so ashamed to admit.
mammon’s teasing alone is enough to create wetness between your legs and succumbing to his dominance has your pussy producing more arousal with each throb of your lips.
“ah!” you gasp as a large hand cups your breast. you push his arm away but it only tightens his grip on it. “mammon....”
“these are some sweet tits, mc. shame ya hid ’m from me for so long.”
you have no chance to protest as he moves onto the next, grabbing both your breasts and squeazing hard. you cry out, hoping it would signal for help but it comes out as a moan instead, arousing the audience further.
every demon wants a piece of you, but mammon lays his claim on your body by roaming every inch of it, grabbing every bit of flesh as if it’s the only thing keeping him sane, which might well be true.
with the way he kneads your ass between his rough fingers, you’re just about ready to submit to him completely, to sacrifice your entire body to him so he can have his way and be satisfied.
“fuck,” mammon grumbles as his hands slide lower; you moan and whimper, embarrassed by your helpless position. there’s no way you can come back from this, not when mammon’s hand cups your pussy, rubbing up and down to bring you the relief you so desperately needed. and to his surprise, he finds more than what he expected. “look at that! she soaked through her panties and her shorts.”
“it’s your fault they’re so tight on me....”
“but it’s your fault that you’re this fucking wet,” he reminds you, and you back down with a heavy blush. “you’re the one getting turned on by this, sicko.”
he continues groping you, fondling your tits and squeezing your ass before his hand moves to your front and cups your tight pussy over and over again. you find what energy you have in you to hide your moans but it’s a failed attempt. as quiet as they are, he still hears them.
“fuck,” he groans into your ear, and whispers so no one else can hear his filthy voice. “wanna fuck this pussy so bad.”
“d-don’t….” you whimper, but your resistance earns a harsh grip on your ass. his fingers dig deep into your flesh, sure to leave behind bruises. “stop....”
“hah? you’re telling me, the great mammon, no? darlin’, ya already know how that’s gonna turn out.”
your gaze is blurred by tears — from embarrassment, from shame, from arousal. you can barely understand the plethora of sensations in your body but you do know that mammon touching you is so wrong even if it feels so right.
it confuses you so much that you can’t stop your hand from rising and colliding with his face. at least your gut instincts are still working. you push him away in the moment he is stunned and your palm stings from the slap.
the entire right side of his face burns red as he holds it.
“the fuck?!” he growls, bearing his fangs at you. “you fucking hit me?”
the crowd gasps and mutters as he dives towards you with his fists raised. you brace for impact, ready to be slammed into the wall. he’s never hurt you so badly before, but today just happens to be the day where all lines are crossed.
you gasp, holding up your hands to protect your face but as if time has frozen, you don’t feel the impact coming. when you finally breathe and look up, mammon looks down at you with raging eyes and a contorted face — as if he couldn’t quite believe what he was about to do.
before you can even think to question why he stopped himself, the two demons you least expect to see appear, parting the crowd as they arrive: lucifer, with diavolo trailing behind him.
“what is the meaning of this?” diavolo bellows, his eyes draping down your form.
lucifer’s cheeks burn, not from blushing but rather, anger, embarrassment, humiliation. “what on earth are you wearing?”
regret floods you as you remember your position in their household. and you’ve brought shame onto the brothers for flaunting yourself around rad dressed in what might as well be underwear.
diavolo’s voice is a bit more kind towards you, but he’s definitely pissed. “i’m going to assume you aren’t aware of the dress code within these walls, mc. might i remind you that dressing inappropriately will result in punishment. as will attacking another student. you will both receive detention effective immediately.”
“it was mammon—”
“stop your sputtering,” lucifer snaps. “go change this instant.”
“but….my uniform was stolen.”
“by who?”
you glance slyly to the white–haired demon beside you and your heart hammers. you could tell lucifer now, tell him everything that mammon has ever done to you. but mammon’s death glare scares you. not because of what he might do to you if you snitch, but how you’ll feel if he is ordered to never interact with you again.
you’re sure diavolo would put a stop to the bullying straight away, maybe even move you out of the house of lamentation. but that means you’ll see less of mammon and despite how much you hate him, you’ll feel lonely without his constant unwarranted attention.
“never mind,” you mutter. “i’ll find it.”
Tumblr media
you arrived to detention on time, not wanting to anger lucifer any further. thankfully, the eldest had figured out it was mammon who stole your uniform and had him return it. the classroom is empty save for your sorrowful soul.
you hope mammon doesn’t come. he skips detentions just like he skips classes so you’re happy to have some time alone to calm down before heading home.
but as your luck would have it, the demon struts in, spotting you in your seat before striding over to sit beside you.
“you can sit anywhere in the room but you choose to sit next to me?” you scoff. “i thought you were supposed to hate me.”
“i do.”
“then why are you sitting next to me?”
mammon won’t allow that, though. he’s in control. whatever fantasies you have of him being soft and affectionate with you are over the seconds he decides them to be and right now, he puts an end to them by slipping his hand under your blazer and cupping your breast.
“so i can do this.” mammon raises his hand, slowly but it’s still concerning. his fingers brush your hair away from your face and your mind spins from the action. his thumb creeps closer, brushing the soft, sensitive skin of your lips.
you’re afraid to look at him, to see the gentleness hidden beneath his mean facade knowing that you’d fall for it in an instant.
you were beginning to feel the phantom of his touches from earlier, which is nothing if not the biggest red flag. but having his hand places on them again, fondling them eagerly is infinitely better than the memories of his corroding touch.
every second which passes with his hands on you, another part of you is corrupted by him and those few sacred, untouched parts rebel against all odds and finally give you some self–restraint and control.
“don’t touch me!” you whack his arm away and scoot over to the next chair, embarrassed that you almost fell for him again. every single time he teases you with niceties and gentle gestures that border flirtation, you find yourself hoping that it might be real.
but he’s just playing with you like he always has. he wants nothing more than to make you feel like a fool under his charms. your humiliation is food to him.
“come on, you said it was fine earlier. let me do it again.”
“no,” you say firmly. “i don’t want you to touch me anymore.”
mammon huffs. “suit yourself.”
hopefully with a seat between you, he’ll put an end to his interest in you and ignore you just like you’re ignoring him.
but choosing to ignore him would be your biggest mistake because when you glance over, in the corner of your eye you see on his ddd a photo of you naked in the shower. your body jolts at the sight of it.
“what the hell, mammon?!” you scream. “what are you doing?”
“gonna post it on devilgram, duh.”
“wait, mammon! don’t!” you try grabbing for his phone but he yanks your arm away from it and pushes you away.
“come on,” he whistles. “show me your tits.”
“what....”
he threatens you by holding his thumb over the post button. “didn’t want me to touch you, well now you gotta do what i say or i’ll post ’em”
“please, mammon. don’t do this.”
“nuh-uh. you should be on your knees begging me if you want me to stop.”
an inhumane noise releases from your throat. you’re not quite sure what it was — a growl of frustration, a beg for help? you’ll bever know because you’re too busy sinking to your knees pleading for mercy.
“not yet,” mammon stops you before your knees graze the ground. “get your tits out first.”
“what?”
“fuck, how many times do i need to say it?” he stares at you, demanding your obedience and you slowly rise, shamefully removing your blazer. “that’s better.”
his demonic blue–gold eyes cut through your skin and you unbutton your shirt one button at a time, shrugging it off so it falls down your shoulders but still hooked on your elbows. mammon salivates at the sight of your pretty chest.
he’s been waiting to see them since he saw you earlier, but fuck. this is the real deal. your breasts sit nicely in their lacey cups and just like a few hours ago, your slutty nipples poke through.
his hand immediately goes to his crotch and palms himself. you feel sick, disgusted but the way his hand moves against himself and his reddening cheeks turns you on. you try to look away from him, but you simply cannot do so.
“c’mere,” mammon mutters and with the phone in his hand ready to post your nude pictures, you do as he says. “get on your knees.”
when they touch the ground, your body shudders and you settle in front of him. there are no words to describe the way he looks down at you. you almost feel like it’s a blessing to be looked at by him at all.
“take my dick outta my pants.”
“what?”
“are ya dumb or something? take my fucking dick out of my pants.”
you can tell his patience is running thin and you don’t dare to test him further when he waves his ddd in front of your face. you reach up with shaky hands to unzip his pants but he stops you again.
“do it with your mouth.”
what kind of fantasies must he be having to order you to do such a thing? well, they’re the fantasies you play a part in and you’ll play them out exactly as he desires for your own wellbeing, lest the entire devildom see pictures of you naked.
taking the metal zip between your teeth, you pull it down. the button is more difficult to undo but you get there in the end despite mammon cackling at your struggle. next, you bite the fabric before dragging it down his thighs.
the sheer size of his cock amazes you and the ghost of it fills you up just by looking at it. your body is begging for him to be inside you, and you pray he’ll never find out. he ushers you to keep going and in the same way, you pull down his boxers, looking him dead in the eyes as you drag them down with your teeth.
he hisses as his cock is freed, letting it bounce as it twitches to life. cum oozes from his tip and you mindlessly lick your lips.
“suck it.” he says and reluctantly, you inch forward, taking his tip between your lips. your tongue swipes over it, tasting his cum that you can only describe as the only substance you’ll need to survive on from now on.
“fuck,” he groans. “your slutty mouth feels so fucking good.”
your pussy throbs each and every time he calls you a slut no matter how much you hate it and he inspires you to take him deeper in your mouth in hopes of him calling you it again. his fat cock fills your cheeks and you move back and forth, tongue running along his shaft.
he’s thick and hard, too big to fit in your mouth and you can only imagine the size of it tearing your pussy walls apart when he finally finds his home in there.
“ya looked so fucking hot in those shorts,” he grunts. “bet ya loved every minute of it, strutting around like a slut.”
“i’m not,” you mumble around his cock. “i’m not a slut.”
mammon scoffs, somehow able to understand your muffled words while his cock sits heavy in your mouth. he tuts as you pull back, drenching his cock in your saliva. “don’t lie to me, sweetheart. i know what a dirty little slut ya.”
“no…”
“every demon in that hallway was looking at ya and all i could smell was your sweet pussy leaking for me. bet they could all smell it too. bet they wanted ya as bad as i do.”
mammon….wants you?
now, that’s not something you ever thought of being a possibility. but as the words slip from his lips, your lower body heats up even more. there is so much desperation growing between your legs and you can’t hold back.
your nimble fingers find their way between your legs and mammon uses his foot to lift up your skirt and peek at the dirty things you do to yourself underneath it. god, your eyes are just so needy for him as he watches your fingers push in and out of your pussy.
the only thing blocking his view are the panties you pulled to the side and he orders you to take them off. it pains you to obey him again but the ache in your belly hurts so much more. if you listen to him well enough, maybe he’ll fill you up and finally put your body at ease.
after all that’s happened, the only thing you want right now is his fat cock stuffing you to the hilt instead of your amateur fingers which do not dare to match the level of pleasure mammon’s cock can give you.
swallowing bitterly, you gently place your soaked panties in the hand he holds out, feeling your arousal drip down your thighs already.
“you’re such a naughty girl, getting wet like this,” he teases, rubbing his thumb over the soggy patch on your panties. “so fucking bad.”
“i’m not!” you move away from him completely and plead on your knees. “i’m good, i’ve been nothing but good to you and you treat me so horribly!”
mammon supposes he should feel bad seeing you cry, but your cute little sniffles and the way your teary eyes look up at him through sodden lashes, well, it does make him feel bad….for what he’s about to do to you.
“aww, baby,” his hand snakes his hand under your chin. your skin burns from the way his fingers feel so right around your neck. his touch is gentle, guiding you up onto your feet and your knees are so weak that you begrudgingly lean on him for support. “i didn’t mean to make ya cry.”
his voice is soft as he feigns a pout while spouting such a lie. making you cry is a reward for mammon. you wouldn’t be surprised if he was getting off on this.
“what did i do to deserve this?” you whimper.
“oh darlin’” he kisses your cheek, nuzzling into your neck. the softness in his voice is foreign, and the gentle graze of his lips teasing your skin is addicting. “do you want me to stop?”
“huh?”
“want me to stop being mean to ya?”
freeing himself from the intoxicating scent of your pulse, he holds his face close to you with a hand on either side of yours, thumbs stroking your hot cheeks and wiping away tears. a sick feeling builds in your stomach, but a desperate, needy ache grows faster and stronger.
and as loud as they both are, you can only listen to one bodily instinct at a time.
nodding slowly, you don’t tear your eyes away from his hoping he will see how pathetic and miserable and desperate you are. you’d do anything if it means he’ll stop harassing you.
mammon’s wide smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes and he leans in, surprising you when his lips touch yours. your eyes grow to an abstractly large size and you don’t dare to move as he glides his lips against yours.
one arm wraps around your waist, pulling you flush against him and his cock presses into your tummy while the other snakes around your shoulders, grabbing your scalp and holding your head in place. despite your best efforts to push him away, you remain with your lips locked onto his.
they’re both hot and cold at the same time, both gentle and destructive. all of your walls break down as he pries your sorry lips apart, swiping his tongue along them before devouring your mouth whole.
you moan and gasp against him, beating his chest with your fists but he refuses to let you go and to your dismay — or delight, you can’t quite tell — his hips begin moving. he grinds into your body, rubbing his bare cock along your tummy and leaving cum stains on your clothes.
every alarm in your body rings loudly and you lose the ability to breathe. your mind fogs up from the lack of air but you’re sure he’s doing this on purpose, not allowing you a single ounce of it and if one manages to slip past your lips, he steals it right away.
you know how he works. what mammon wants, mammon gets and while he deprives you of oxygen, he’s waiting for you to give in.
he forces his tongue deep in your mouth but the feel of it is new and draws out a deeper beast within you, greed and excitement growing in your core. while his cock ruts against you, your hands find it and you slowly stroke him, spreading his pre–cum along his length.
“that’s it. keep doing that,” he groans, lips only inches apart. “good girl.”
a whimper escapes you as the words roll of his tongue and your pussy erupts in sparks.
“what’s that, huh? you like it when i call you good girl?” biting your lip, you nod eagerly, earning another proud smile from him. “hm, maybe i should keep calling ya it. but then again, you’re nothing but a worthless slut.”
mammon grabs a fistful of your hair and pushes you to the cold, hard ground. before you can wiggle away, he has you locked in place with your arms pinned down at the sides and your legs stretched on either side of his hips.
“mammon!” you yelp. “please, no….”
“dontcha ya want me to stop being mean to ya?” he questions, eyes filled with madness as he yanks down your bra and gropes your breasts. holding you in place as you writhe against him, mammon leans down and takes your nipple between his lips. “i’ll stop if you let me fuck your sweet little pussy. it’s a good deal, ain’t it?”
it’s the most horrific deal you’ve ever heard but you’re beyond reasoning at this point. the two things you desire most — for him to fuck you dumb on his cock and for him to stop bullying you — he can give to you right now. there’s no harm in killing two birds with one stone, right? if he’s going to be mean about it, you’ve no choice but to take it given it’s the only chance you’ll ever have to free yourself from him.
“fuck, your tits are so sweet.” he can’t stop playing with them, squeezing them, slapping them and marvelling at the way they jiggle, then pinching your nipples and pulling them taught before releasing them and taking them in his mouth again.
“ah!” you moan. “mammon, don’t…” but the warmth of his lips is welcomed by your body and you arch into him.
burying his face into your breasts, he sucks and bites for what feels like hours, covering your mounds with bruises and when he rises with a gasp, his lips are covered in his saliva. his mini–makeout session with your breasts makes every hair on your body stand tall, all the while, your pussy leaks onto the ground beneath you.
mammon grabs both of your breasts, blessing each of his hands with their softness and rubs his cock head over your puffy lips.
“fucking sugar tits, alright,” he jokes. “ya like it when i call ya that?”
you shake your head violently but the truth is, you haven’t stopped thinking about it since he called you it earlier. it’s such a ridiculous name, so degrading and obscene. yet, your hole clenches over nothing when he calls you it.
“that’s right, sugar tits. i can feel your pussy throbbing against me.” mammon warns. “you’re gonna cum while i call ya sugar tits, ain’t ya?”
shaking your head again, you cry no’s and stop’s but each of them fly past his ears. but a guttural feeling deep down knows you’re glad he won’t listen. your pussy aches for his cock to fill you up, for your name to roll off his lips while he fucks his cum far into your pussy.
“you want this, don’t ya?”
“no,” you sob.
“don’t lie to me, bitch. you know you want it.”
“i don’t!”
oh, but you do.
you want this more than anything but you’d rather him not know because it would only give him more fuel to ruin you with.
“yes, you fucking do,” he forces the answer for you. his grabs his cock and prods it against your hole. it’s so wet and slippery that he almost falls deep inside but he’s using the last remainders of his control to hear you say the words he’s wanted to hear for so long. “you fucking want this. tell me you want this.”
you whine. struggling against him but he pushes you down with his ungodly strength.
“say it or i’ll post the fucking pictures.”
“i want it!” you yelp, the words blurting out against your will. “please, mammon. i want it!”
“that’s what i fucking thought.”
and with that, mammon pushes himself past your hole, his leaking tip digging its way into your pussy. your legs fly in the air as you feel him stretch your walls unbelievably wide.
“fuck! mammon!”
“your pussy’s sucking me in, baby,” he grunts with each thrust. “i knew ya wanted my cock this bad.”
with each rock of his hips, your body drags against the ground and he pins you down in place again, arms at your side and body spread wide for him. his eyes latch onto your tits bouncing with every thrust.
they mesmerise him, the way they knock up and down with each hard thrust acting as hypnosis for the demon and he grows desperate for release.
“fuck, sugar tits,” you clench at the pet name. it’s so humiliating but it feels so fucking good, as good as his cock battering your insides. “such a fucking slut enjoying my cock like this.”
he spits insult after insult, mocking you for your weakness against him. “nothin’ but a dirty little human desperate for some demon cock, huh? bet that’s why ya let me fuck around with ya for so long, because ya wanted this to happen, wanted me to fill your tiny little hole with my cum. isn’t that right?”
“no,” you shake your head, but you’re quickly met with his hands gripping your face harshly. “i mean, yes! yes i wanted this!”
“keep going….” he ruts harder, knocking your insides in the right way.
“i wanted this for so long, mammon!” you cry. “wanted your cock so bad i let you treat me like dirt all this time!”
“that’s right,” mammon groans. “i’m always fucking right about ya. nothin’ but a slutty little hole for me. gonna fucking breed ya with all of my cum, and no one’s ever gonna touch ya but me.”
“oh!” you moan, relishing in the words spilling from his lips. you know he doesn’t mean anything special by it, but you’re so blissed out from his cock that for a moment, it feels real. you’re his and his only in the empty classroom and you feel….special. “mammon, it’s so good!”
“yeah? my cock’s making ya feel good?”
“yes!”
“fucking hell, sugar tits loves my cock,” he yells for the whole school to hear, laughing at your the way your pussy tightens when he says it. “go on, you say it too.”
“huh?” you whine.
“fucking say it, scream it. need the whole fucking devildom to here ya being a slut for me.”
“but—”
“say it, angel. or ya don’t get to cum,” he grins seeing the desperation in your eyes, so obedient to him just for an orgasm. how much more pathetic can you get? “go on, be a good girl and say it.”
“i….i love mammon’s cock….”
“louder.”
“i love mammon’s cock,” you repeat but he still isn’t satisfied. he thrusts into you particularly harshly, a yelp escaping your lips and you hear his message loud and clear, screaming, “i love the great mammon’s cock!”
“that’s right, sugar tits,” he leans down. “ya gonna cum now?”
you nod fervently, desperate for release. his cock drags along your clenching walls, awakening the hidden sweet spots as your nectar leaks around him. “wanna cum! please!”
“go ahead, baby,” he ruts with a deep groan, coming close to the edge himself. “i’m gonna finish inside your filthy little pussy.”
“hhm,” you moan. “you shouldn’t!”
“but i’m gonna anyway.”
all it takes as one more thrust to feel ropes of mammon’s hot cum spurting out into your pussy. his thumb finds your clit and pinches it, pulls it, then circles it roughly while pushing his cum deeper inside you with his cock. seconds later, ecstasy washes over you and your body loses control, spasming against his cock as you arch deeper into it. your walls are painted white with his cum and his cocks remains sheathed in your pussy as you writhe through your prolonged orgasm.
“fuck!” you squeal. “it feels so fucking good!”
“holy shit,” mammon groans, hissing when he finally pulls out from your hot mess of a pussy. “that was fucking amazing, huh?”
he falls back, watching your body twitch and tremble and his cum pours out from between your legs, giving him the perfect idea. he reaches for his ddd and opens the camera, facing it towards your blissed the fuck out body.
“hey, sugar tits,” you look at him, haunted by the sick grin on his face. “smile for the camera.”
“wait, mammon—”
“shaddup,” he mumbles and seconds later, several snaps of his camera sound. you yelp, covering your chest and closing your legs in a weak attempt. but mammon’s strength is far to superior to yours and he yanks your legs back open. “i gotcha now, angel.”
“what…?”
he snaps several more pictures and even a short film of his cum gushing out of your pussy. “fuck, i could sell these for some real grimm.”
the way his eyes light up terrifies you and you want nothing more than to curl up into a ball and cease to exist. if he did, your life in the devildom would truly be over. you’d have no dignity remaining from what little of it was left anyway.
“you said you’s stop!” you cry. “you promised you wouldn’t mess with me anymore if i let you fuck me!”
“ya didn’t actually believe that, did ya?”
the world comes crashing down on your heavy, aching body and you’re overcome with violent sobbing. all hope is lost; there’s nothing good left for you now. mammon has made sure of that.
“why? why are you doing this to me?”
“because you’re nothing but a worthless slut. but you’re fun to play with, i’ll give ya that.”
every nerve on your body aches with humiliation. and what’s worse is knowing mammon gets off to it every single time.
how could you ever think you would mean something to him? you know your place full and well yet you still strived to be something more to him, when in reality, all you are is a toy for him to play with, a pathetic human designed for him to ruin in every way.
“p-please….” you sob. “please don’t tell anyone.
“that’s right, angel. you better do everything i say from now on, or else the entire fucking devildom is gonna know how much of a greedy slut ya are. fuck, ya were so fucking desperate for me to breed ya.”
your heart collapses into your stomach; you were a fool to ever believe him. his words and his touches twisted their way into your core and you gave into your sickly attraction to him. but what’s done is done and the best you can do now is some damage control.
“y–you won’t show the pictures to anyone….right?”
mammon scoffs with his devilish grin refusing to leave his face. your skin tingles as he glares at you. despite his terrible attention span and low grades, mammon is smart when he wants to be and smart he is by hacking away at all of your strength, leaving you with nothing but weakness and in the position he’s been wanting you in since the beginning.
“i won’t….for a price,” he grins. “what are ya willing to do to stop me from showing ‘em?”
with one question spilling from his lips, your mind shatters upon the realisation that your existence is now in his hands. you swallow, giving up on all of your pride and courage and hoping desperation will help you. and you really hope it will because that’s all you have left.
“anything. i’ll do anything.”
“good,” his eyes are dark like deep water as he leans over you again, engulfing your pitiful body in his scent. your heart races, tears soaking your eyes as you officially sign away your life to him. “because from now on, you’re the great mammon’s personal slut.”
Tumblr media
542 notes · View notes