#tw: crying

[justadeadreaper]

TW: Hair pulling, DUBCON, Manipulation, Crying, Sadistic tendencies, "Experiments", Being a "pet", Hinting at further actions/NONCON, Past kidnapping, Kidnapped, Please tell me if anything that should be put as a warning was not, thanks.

Being the pet of Angel!König is not the worst fate you could have found yourself in. On one hand, you were guaranteed a spot in Heaven for the rest of eternity, which was a fate that most people dream of, while on the other hand, it meant you were never able to see your friends or family again unless they somehow made the criteria to make it into Heaven but knowing them you thought it to be impossible.

He is nice, well, as nice as he can be for an Angel who keeps you as a pet.

The Common Angels that cared for you when he was busy were the ones to gossip, and they gossiped loudly. You knew the jist of why you were there even if you did not have all the details. Apparently, most of the First Heirarchy Angels, such as Seraphim and Cherubim, tended to have a fascination with humans even if they were to never to act on it like previous ones, such as Lucifer had done. And this included Angel!König, who was the most fascinated by humans out of them all; you did not know what he had gone, but he had done something which allowed him to be granted one gift by the Almighty, and unluckily Angel!König only had his eyes on one human out of all of the ones that resided on Earth.

That human just had to be you.

You had been stolen away in your sleep and dragged away to a palace. It was grand and incredibly vast. At one point, you thought it was larger than all of Earth as it seemed never-ending as you continued to walk through its many halls. It was made up of a collection of star matter, clouds, and gold to form its walls, ceilings, balconies, staircases, floors, shelves, and anything else you could think of. You could never get bored inside of it as every time you opened a door; it showed you a room that was filled with anything you wanted to entertain yourself. Most of the time, you found yourself reading in the library as not only were their books in there, but the fanfiction you also enjoyed reading had been formed into books, and many series that you had wished to have finished were fully finished even if it would have never been possible on Earth. Another point that made the palace a dream was how the kitchen was filled with food. Like how the bathroom and closets were filled with any clothes you wanted or skin care items needed, the cupboards, fridges, and freezers were all filled to the brim with all the foods in existence that never seemed to go rotten or end. You could make anything you wanted, but most days, you would just open the doors to the dining room to find a feast already prepared for you.

You did not think as to why a being like an Angel would have all of those things as they should not need them, but you tried not to think about it. You had learnt that it was better not to think of such things.

Overall, your life seemed great. You were trapped like a bird in a cage. No matter how appealing the cage was or how glamorous it was, you were still trapped, and there was nothing you could do about it. The only thing you could do was accept your new luxurious life, as there was no point in fighting back.

In return, all you had to do was appease your new master, which was not too hard. Angel!König did not ask for much when he was around you after doing the duties he was appointed to do. For his size, he was surprisingly gentle; he never tried to harm you, at least not on purpose or if he was not doing one of his experiments. He had a few simple rules that you had to follow.

One: No asking questions, but if you have to, not too many.

This rule was only implemented due to how you kept pissing him off by asking him too many questions and screaming at him for what he had done. He banned you from asking questions after that point unless it was necessary due to you being an utterly clueless human in Heaven.

Two: Always listen to him.

Not too hard as most of what he told you to do were simple commands, but when he did start ranting to you and telling you everything about the things he found interesting, which mainly was just about killing Demons.

Three: Always do what he wants you to do.

It was the one rule you hated the most, but he somehow always guilted you into complying by saying how he was just curious and wanted to learn as he had never met a human before.

Four: Be nice and compliant.

You wanted to fight back, and at times, you tried to, but you packed that in once he had brought a Demon back to show you and told you what terrible things they would do to a human like you. You also learnt the valuable lesson of not trying to test him that day when you saw how easily he crushed that Demon’s skull in his hand.

Five: Never try to escape.

Probably the easiest rule to follow as it was impossible to escape the damn palace anyway.

The rules most of the time were not a problem. It was his experiments that were your biggest problem. They were not even real experiments, it was just his excuse to be able to do what he wanted with you.

It started off small, nothing much really. All he asked was that he could play with your hair, he said that he enjoyed playing with it as the texture was so different from Angel hair and the material that made up their wings. It was simple, just him holding a clump of hair in his hand as he seemed to study it. He even enjoyed styling your hair and helping you through your care routine for it. But, it progressed. After a while, he began to tug and pull at it, you would cry and ask why but all he would say was that he wanted to see what would happen when he did it. That was when you learned about his sadistic side as he never stopped pulling your hair, he just loved to see you cry.

From your hair, it turned into touches. He would fondle and squish at your body as he made demeaning comments about how soft and delicate mortals were compared to Angels like him. It made you feel pathetic but at the same time, it was relaxing. The heat in his palms would radiate into your muscles, helping them to relax, getting rid of all the knots that tended to plague you. He made you melt into his arms, making you complacent putty in his hands. But those touches moved to more intimate areas. It started with him toying with your nipples, pulling at the delicate flesh until you choked on tears. Then soon enough his hand went lower finding your most sensitive part. He would rub it, the callouses on the tips of his fingers made the feeling somewhat odd but it felt all the better. He would rub, flick, pull, anything he could at it until you were a crying, overstimulated mess who could barely say your own name as the sheets were covered with your own cum; he would stare at you with glossed-out eyes, deep in thought like this was all new to him.

Unfortunately, you did not know that soon he would take it further then you could have guessed. It would be an actual experiment. One to make the perfect hybrid.

Taglist: @frogchiro @diejager @suimon @konigsblog

I am so sorry for not posting in a while I have just been busy with a big project that has taken over my brain and is my main focus, plus I have had exams. Hopefully, I can post soon and start posting the project, warning some of you may be emotionally devastated or want to kill a certain character (*cough cough* like two of my friends who already are waiting in line to have a little "talk", you know who you are *cough cough*). I may come back and edit this later.

#angel!cod au #angel #cod #call of duty #könig call of duty #konig cod #könig cod #konig #könig #angel!könig #angel könig #konig x reader #könig x reader #tw: dubcon #tw: dubious consent #tw: hair pulling #tw: manipulation #tw: owner and pet #tw: crying #tw: kidnapped #konig call of duty #konig smut #cod konig #könig smut

[drawlypsy]

TW: blood, implied torture, obscured torture, pain, Dottore being Dottore...Lots of Scaramouche's tears. Dottore's segment taking liberties with Wanderer and Lumine showing up to shank him like the rat bastard he is. Did this for dear @venranae and because I have had an absolutely awful week. This is PART ONE - PART TWO will be coming shortly and will involve less of...well...all this.

#scaramouche #wanderer #genshin impact #dottore #pain #this is just pain #this is what happens when I have a shit week and I take it out on sad bois #comic #genshin impact fanart #tw: injury #tw: implied torture #tw: pain #tw: crying

[in-love-with-writing-whump]

"Whumpee asked for you specifically, A. I'll let you in to see them," Whumpee's medic and lover, Caretaker, said.

A couldn’t believe it. Whumpee wanted to see them? Before their best friend, B? After they sacrificed themself and were tortured by Whumper for months because of them?

They followed Caretaker, refusing to let them down, even as their face burned with shame, guilt gnawing at their insides.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Leader Whumpee sat in the wheelchair, whiteboard sitting across their blanketed lap as Caretaker opened the door for A, the younger, sibling-like member of Team. A's breath hitched, eyes widening.

"They’re okay, A," Caretaker assured them. "Their throat is still healing, and they're still weak, but they're going to be okay."

A nodded, Caretaker letting out a deep breath. "Now, if you excuse me, I'm going to give the two of you some privacy. I have some things to attend to." The door shut behind them, leaving A standing before Whumpee, unable to meet their eyes at the sight of matching wounds from Whumper.

Whumpee's eyes burned with the shame of being unable to even give A a hug, or tell them that none of this was their fault. They attempted a smile, scribbling on their board.

"I missed you."

A's eyes welled with tears. "I'm so sorry, Whumpee," they whispered, hands curling into fists.

Whumpee shook their head vigorously, scribbling big letters on the board before tapping it when their marker. A looked up, hiccuping when they saw the message.

"It’s not your fault. They would've just killed you and taken me anyways. It's not your fault."

As A sank to their knees, they wrapped their arms around Whumpee in a hug, holding back tears as they pressed their face into the blanket.

#whump prompt #whumpee #tw: trauma #caretaker #tw: angst #tw: violence #tw: torture #tw: captivity #tw: throat whump #tw: implied strangulation #tw: muscle atrophy #tw: crying #tw: guilt #found family #team whump #whumper

[flyingwargle]

tw: beginnings of an anxiety attack midway through

the show was a disaster.

lynette thinks it’s because of sabotage. lyney thinks it’s because of him.

when he palmed the wrong card at the start of their act, he should’ve taken it as a sign that nothing else would go well. instead, his smile became wider, raised his voice louder, swept his arms in more and more elaborate gestures. the stage lights hid the audience’s faces, but he could still hear their whispers, their judgments, their disappoint. this is not what i paid for.

that’s why he refunded their tickets. it’s the least he could do.

he sends his sister home while he inspects their props. she already did it while he was talking with the ticket office, but he has to be sure that the fault lies with him. there’s no sign of tampering, and all equipment remains in its rightful positions, waiting for tricks that would never happen. they aren’t to blame – he is.

do you really call yourself a great magician?

the theater is empty. lyney sits cross-legged onstage, facing the shuttered overhead lights. it’s cold, amplified by the empty seats and corridors. he’s cloaked in darkness, with only the stars shining through the windows.

i should go back. the others will be worried.

are they, though? do they really want such a pathetic brother back?

he squeezes his eyes shut. he picks himself up, stumbles down the hallway to exit through the back door. security locked the front entrance hours ago. he couldn’t bring himself to leave among his dissatisfied patrons.

the court of fontaine is a different entity at night. whereas light makes water seem friendly, night makes it seem unforgiving. streetlamps illuminate his path, boots echoing around him. he walks with his back straight, head held high, as if walking home after a successful show, full of bravado. this is just an act, a mask to hide his turmoil, like the teardrop he paints on his cheek before every show.

he slows. the stars accompany the moon, yet no one accompanies him. he leans against the railing to peer down at the lower levels of the city. storefronts are darkened. stalls are covered with canvas. only the faintest light radiates behind closed curtains, followed by hushed voices and rustling blankets. soon, it feels like he’s the only one left awake.

that’s why only silence answers him when he curses. “dammit!”

people make mistakes. it’s natural. he doesn’t because he knows the consequences. all he’s ever known is that a single misstep can mean being thrown to the wolves, to be claimed by the darkness without a way back. as the oldest, he can’t afford wrong moves. it isn’t just him who suffers, but his brothers and sisters.

his hand sneaks up to his chest. it’s heavy. his heart is racing. his breaths are quick. stay calm…stay calm. i…have to go back. i can’t…let the others know–

“lyney?”

he jumps. when he raises his head, his vision is blurred. tears form in the corners of his eyes. why?

why did you have to find me like this?

lynette stands on his right, freminet on his left. their gestures are light across his arms as they guide him to sit down. “you were taking so long,” lynette whispers. “we were worried about you?”

what’s there to worry about? i’m fine.

“no, you aren’t. you’re always like this when a show goes badly.”

freminet nods. “it- it’s hard to keep it together all the time. you can be frustrated. we aren’t supposed to be perfect.”

i’m supposed to be. what good am i if i can’t even put on a magic show?

“it’s not just you.” a hand rests over his own to quell his trembles. “i’m onstage, too. fremmy designs our props. our brothers and sisters help make our stage costumes. you might be the one doing the sleight of hand, but we work together to make the show work.”

“a failure now means success later,” freminet adds. “we learn and we grow. that’s how it is.”

lyney draws in a shuddering breath and squeezes his eyes shut, rubbing to clear them of tears. lynette continues to hold his other hand. “it’s okay to cry.”

that’s all the permission he needs.

neither his sister nor brother speak, simply press against him as his tears flow down his cheeks. how unbecoming of him. he watched his sister cry after she was rescued from that terrible place; he watched his brother cry when he learned that his mother would never come back. he embraced them both, lent them his shoulder, murmured soothing words. it's okay. i'm here. i'll never leave you.

even if they don't do that for him, their presence is enough to reassure him that they mean the same sentiment.

#genshin impact #text #flyingwargle original #drabble #freminet #lyney #lynette #genshin drabble #fontaine siblings #tw: anxiety attack #tw: crying #inspired by lyney's taking damage line #i have a few other ideas about this too #maybe...for whumptober?

[nemmienimbus]

Mammon crying his insecurities into your shirt

#he's not doin too good #obey me mammon #om! mammon #tw: crying #my art

[elfantasmadejanis]

here we go! i've had to rework it like five times cause i haven't done anything like this in a while but i'm finally happy with the result.

this is fanart for @sulkybender 's dark zukka fic 'under an open sky' , one of my favourite writers who i've been following for ages now. i guess it could be considered a spoiler? though it's more about the atmosphere imo

let me know if i missed any tags that would be relevant it's a little darker that my usual

#fire lord zuko #fanart #sulkybender #tw: violence #tw: crying #tw: blood #tw: captivity #fanart for fanfic #under an open sky

[sortofanobsession]

Unedited RoyJamie Preview anyone?

Roy makes his way to the treatment room and waves off the med team. So it is just him and Jamie.

“Alright, Tartt, fucking out with it,” Roy says. Arms crossed over his chest like he's trying to keep how worried he'd been growing inside his chest.

“Think I already did on the pitch,” Jamie winces.

Roy let's out a litany of curses before he sighs.

“We both know that isn't what I fucking meant,” Roy tries to keep it together because he knows Jamie's history. He knows his about Jamie's father. But Jamie isn't helping himself here, so.

Roy is going to have to be the one to do it. “Tartt, I need to know what is going on with you, because this isn't the Jamie Tartt I know. And I don't fucking like it one bit.”

The way Jamie sinks deeper into himself has Roy quickly adding. “You fucking dying or something? You're fucking freaking me out, Tartt.”

“I’m not dying,” Jamie tells him. “Not even actually sick.”

“Then tell me what the fuck this is,” Roy says and Jamie doesn't answer. Roy ignores the voice in his head with worse case scenarios and moves to stand right next to Jamie. “Jamie,” he says in a softer tone. “I cannot help you if you don't talk to me. I need you to-” Roy doesn't even get to finish before Jamie sobs. Roy is momentarily gobsmacked before without even really thinking the coach pulls Jamie against his chest.

“Fucking hell,” mutters more to himself than Jamie but Jamie must think it's directed at him because Jamie just cries harder. So Roy just holds him tighter. Everything inside Roy Kent is telling him that he needs to do something. Because seeing Jamie like this is like a knife in the heart. He'd do anything to cheer the striker up. And his brain doesn't seem to have much input either because Roy hadn't even realized his hand had gone up and was running through Jamie's hair, over and over to help calm him. But he doesn't stop because it actually seems to be helping as the sobs slowly turn into sniffles.

“I've got you, Tartt,” he says as he does. And when the treatment room door opens and Jamie goes to pull away, Roy doesn't let him because the last thing he wants is Jamie to close off and shut him out.

“I…uh…just need to grab a few things,” Gail says. “You're good.” She grabs what she needs and leaves.

“Well that was embarrassing,” Jamie sniffles, it's muffled in Roy's shirt. And Roy huffs a laugh.

“It's fucking fine, just breathe and maybe tell me what is wrong.”

Jamie takes Roy's advice and takes a few deep breaths. He is almost too scared to look at Roy. But the way Roy's hand is now rubbing soothing circles on his back has him glancing up at him a bit.

“Will you tell me now?” Roy asks.

“It's…it's just anxiety.”

Roy’s hand stills as that sinks in but his hand moves again because he doesn't want to make it worse.

“Okay, that's…okay,” Roy is trying real hard to police his actions now. “Is this new or just worse than it was?”

And Jamie isn't sure if he'd ever heard so many words without him swearing ever. And Jamie isn't sure how to feel about it. He didn't know if he should tell him that it's because of Zava.

“It's not new, but I thought I beat it ages ago,” Jamie says honestly.

“Okay, what changed?” Roy asks. And the coach can feel the striker’s muscles tense and start to pull away. That didn't bode well. So he changes his tactic.

“Jamie,” Roy starts. “How can I help you?”

And that surprise Jamie.

“You…you want to help me?”

“Of fucking course I do,” Roy says honestly.

“Because you're my coach?”

“Because I need you to fucking be okay. So what do you need from me?”

“Help me?” Jamie says. And the sad way Jamie says it grip’s Roy’s heart. He puts a hand on the back of Jamie's neck.

“Fucking easy, done. Just tell me how.”

“Train me?” Jamie asks and Roy nearly laughs because if Jamie just needs some extra one on one to get past this, he will spend every minute he isn't with Phoebe or the team training.

“Fuck, yeah, we can do that,” Roy grins because he has had worse case scenarios going through his mind and this, this is something he can and will do. “We can start tomorrow if you want.”

“Yeah, really?”

“Yes, Tartt, really.”

#fic preview #RoyJamie #tw: anxiety #tw: crying #tw: worry #from a request

[ollieneedstherapy]

How Greek gods would react to walking in on you crying

Apollo: this boy cry’s on na daily basis ,he has tissues in his handbag ,ready, waiting. He would also sing yo I songs to make you feel better 8.5/10

Artemis: 100 percent (hundred) is ready to kill a man or several. Sucks at comforting but would try really hard! She would pay your back then call her brother because she has no clue what to do 5/10

Aphrodite: is also ready to cut a bitch. She doesn’t have tissues on hand but she does have makeup wipes! (She’s trying) Would be great if you needed a distraction 6/10

Ares: panic. He would walk in see you crying and just ask a confused “are you okay?” Doesn’t go straight to murder, but is ready to help hide a body, he’s used to mourning since death comes with it but not emotions. He’d try though 7.8/10

Athena: also panic. Sits down next to you and just starts telling you facts, she doesn’t know what to do at all. Same as Ares she’s used to mourning not normal emotions. Would hug you 5.5/10

Demeter: would just hug you and love you cry it out. She’s a great hugger, try’s to get you to eat but is more worried about why you were crying in this first place 8/10

Dionysus: would look at you and just us his powers to make you feel euphoria, than cuddles you in till you’re ready to tell him 7/10

Hephaestus: would give you a trinket to calm you down. Is very good at breathing exercises,other than that he’s a mess. My guys anti social. Pats your head and yells you it’ll be okay 6.3/10

Hestia: she’d walk in with candy and Kleenex in hand ready to help. Helps make sure you feel safe, makes you drink a shit ton of water. Would let you cry into her shirt 8.7/10

Hera: mom friend. She could be across the world and still show up for you. Brings you snacks, water, and tissues. I love her 8/10

Hermes.laughs at first because he thinks it’s a prank. Once he realizes that it isn’t a prank he’d be all over the place. He stole you some of Apollos snacks, gives the best hugs 6.9/10

Hades: doesn’t know what to do,death makes people feel different things but he isn’t ready for this at all. Tried and failed to get you to tell him what’s wrong 5.5/10

Poseidon: panics and just gives you a hug. He doesn’t know what he’s doing at all. He got you to tell him super easy however,he’d try really hard 6/10

Zeus: lets you cry for a bit than comforts you, he know that you’ll need a second, would hand you a glass of water and some candy. Let’s you hug him but just for a second 7/10

#apollo deity #artemis deity #athena deity #demeter deity #dionysus deity #hephaestus deity #hera deity #poseidon deity #hestia deity #hermes deity #zeus deity #Greek gods #tw:cursing #tw: crying #headcanons #i need sleeeeeeeeep #they tried #im going to bed

[kipxer]

Fear a Raised Voice

Obey Me! Mammon/Reader - Platonic - No MC pronouns

Warnings: Angst, being yelled at, mentions of breaking things, lots of crying, mean thoughts, learning how to accept comfort. It's an angsty one you've been warned.

Summary: MC gets yelled at by Lucifer after trying to go to the attic again. Gets triggered by childhood past experiences. Mammon is there to help.

Word Count: 2k

Note: You could probably psychoanalysis me from this. Should show this to my future therapist. Also I don't like this title, if you can come up with something better let me know lmaoo

Masterlist

You walk out of Lucifer's office. A blank far off expression on your face, with a few tears starting to grow in your eyes.

You hate having people see you cry. It feels so humiliating. You tried your absolute best to hold it in while Lucifer was berating you for attempting to go to the attic again. You tried your best to stand your ground silently, just saying whatever he wanted to hear until he was appeased and let you go.

And as if the universe had any pity on you, here comes Mammon, strolling by, looking down at his phone. You quickly turn away and start to walk to your room hoping to escape before he notices you.

"Oi human!" He runs over to you before putting an arm around your shoulder. Goddammit.

"Was just lookin' for ya, I have a great idea you're gonna love it!!" You turn your face away acting as if something caught your attention, just to keep his eyes from seeing his face.

You suck in a breath. "Maybe next time Mammon."

"C'mon ya gotta trust me! I promise it's good and most definitely not a scam this time." He says with a devilish grin.

Your tone turns a bit harsher and slower "Maybe next time Mammon." Maybe if he could just take a hint that you were annoyed and give you some space, you could run to your room to let out all your angst quicker.

But unlucky for you, there are two facts about Mammon that you overlooked. 1) He isn't afraid of being annoying and 2) he really likes to talk.

"What's up with ya today?? Are my brothers rubbin' off on ya or something?"

You take in another sharp breath "Look, I'm just not in the mood today, I'm sorry." Your voice falters among your sharp words.

"MC are you ok? For real?"

"I'm fine I just need to be alone. It's fine."

You reeeally didn't wanna burden anyone else with your problems right now, especially Mammon. By this point you were the one keeping most of the peace in this house, you couldn't just break down in front of them and disrupt that. Besides, what if he just brushes it off or mocks you for it like he does with most of your feelings.

Mammon's grip tightened around your shoulders. "Follow me."

"Mammon I already said I'm not in the mood."

"Just-" He nudges you along "Put up with me for a sec and c'mon."

Deciding that he really isn't gonna let up anytime soon, you take another deep breath and tilt your head back. Might as well just suck it up and get this over with, then maybe you can get to your room faster.

"Fine." You say in an annoyed manner.

You find yourself being dragged to the doorway of his room where he finally lets you go to fumble with the lock.

Walking in and plopping down on his couch you say flatly, "Now what." Watching him as moves to sit next to you.

He leans back and turns towards to look at you, causing you to shift your gaze to your now very interesting shoeslaces.

"What's wrong."

"Nothing."

He gives you a look.

"Stubborn human... If somethin' is making ya so bothered then it's my job as your guardian to fix it. Just spill it."

You take another deep breath trying to calm yourself but also just getting tired of fighting him. "If I do," You chew on your cheek thinking over your next words, "then I'll start crying."

With that, his face twists with confusion and worry. "Just an even better reason to tell me I guess."

You take a final shaky breath. "Lucifer yelled at me." deciding to just keep it brief.

He looks at you confused "That's it??"

"For the most part yeah."

"Oh come on, I've seen him threaten ya and even lunge at ya, how is yellin' the worst of it?"

"Um." You grow small in your seat as memories start to flood back. Tears begin to prick the corners of your eyes that you try to blink away.

"Well. I used to get yelled at a lot as a kid by my parents."

Mammon's silence urges you on.

"a-and. I uh, it just reminded me of that. That feeling of being just so small and weak." You sniffed putting on an anxious smile. "They would scream shitty things at me, calling me stuff like ungrateful and lazy. They would break stuff and throw away my favorite toys. The lectures would last for what felt like hours before they would lock me in my room for the rest of the day." You let out a weak laugh "All because I didn't clean my room usually."

You waved your hand in the air dismissively. "I know it's not that bad, especially compared to what you go through all the time. It just. It kinda messed me up a little bit." You struggled to fight back the tears threatening to fall. God, you really didn't want to talk about this.

The air grows thick as you both remain silent, Mammon sitting there stunned.

"Not that bad? If I saw a kid bein' treated like that I'd be fucking pissed!" His whole body tenses in disgust and anger.

"You get strung up by Lucifer and fucking whipped like every other week! How is this anything compared to that?" You cross your arms.

"You were a kid!!"

"So!?"

"Lucifer does that cause he knows I can handle it. I'm a full grown goddamned demon, I can fight back."

"What? That still doesn't make it ok. And why don't you fight back if you're so strong huh??"

"Cause I know it makes him feel better to take it out on me." His voice drops to a mumble. "Plus, it keeps him from doin' the same to my younger brothers."

Now you're the one who's stunned to silence, hearing nothing but Mammon's aggravated breath and your anxious heartbeat.

As you fidget with you hands, you feel a few tears make their way down your face, both from your own confession and now his. Seems like quite the touchy subject for the both of you. Finally, you look up at Mammon, who's leaning in your direction, shoulders tense, eyebrows furrowed, and to your surprise, a pair of blinking watery eyes.

Oh shit. You really just made him cry. Well, almost cry. You've never seen him like this. Oh holy shit. It's your fault. What kind of shitty fucking friend are you. Why did you even ask that question in the first place you dumb fuck. You have to apologize. Now.

"I'm sorry." You say ever so quietly, as if it wasn't more than a whisper.

"What?" You grow even smaller under his intense gaze.

"I'm sorry for making you all worked up. I should've just left when I had the chance." You bite on your tongue.

Mammon huffs, "Oh what. And just lock yourself in your room for the rest of the day?"

You stare up at him as you feel your heart jump and your breath becoming shaky.

All the pent up panic and tears you've been trying to hold off suddenly flood your system. Oh god, why did he have to say that.

Choking on air, you start hiccuping and fighting for breath as you wipe at the wetness on your face.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," you plead. You go back to trying to hide your face, breaking into a full on ugly cry. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry..."

You hate this, so so much. Why did you let him talk you into this. Stupid annoying demons. This is so embarrassing your face is all gross now. You should just leave, just leave, leave. JUST GET UP AND LEAVE. WHY CAN'T YOU LEAVE.

Slowly, you feel two soft but awkward arms wrap around you, as a hand is placed on the back of your head, nudging it closer.

Goddammit. Pushing your forehead into his chest, you heave.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry" You can't stop apologizing as if it's a mantra, slowly turning into a jumble of choked whispers.

Gently, he rubs your shaking back, holding you close.

"You're ok. It's ok. You don't need to be sorry."

No it's not ok, it's not ok, it's not ok. You have everything to be sorry for.

You take a strangled gasp for air, as if that would let up the tightness in your throat.

You grip onto his shirt tightly as you hide your face in his chest. God this is so embarrassing. You must look so stupid and pathetic right now.

"Hey, take a deep breath for me ok?" He interrupts your thoughts.

Starting you off, he takes a long deep inhale himself. Shakily, the mess of yourself tries follow along.

In...

And out...

"Another one."

In...

And out...

With each breath, your sobbing grows quieter and your apologies die down.

"You're ok." He strokes your back some more, as your grip relaxes. You take another deep breath on your own, the air feeling just a bit lighter now.

Realizing the position your in, you let out a weak laugh as you hold onto him. "I told you I would cry."

He chuckles, the sound reverberating from his chest "Well hey, at least ya warned me."

A beat of silence passes as he soothes your back, giving you a moment to catch your breath.

Why was he being so nice. He always rambled about how annoying it was to take care of you, so why go through all the effort to comfort you like this.

Still. With all his self sacrifice for his brothers and now with the way he's treating you, you can't help but have just the slightest tiniest thought that maybe, just maybe, he cared about his family and you much more than he led on.

"Thank you."

He gently squeezes you in his embrace.

"Anytime."

He gives some more time for you both to relax. Just gentle touches and soft slow breaths. His warm palm traveling up and down your back in slow fluid motions, the hand in your hair holding you securely. You press your face further into his chest, soft fabric against your cheek, smelling strongly of his cologne.

"Ya don't gotta run off if ya need to cry. I'm here to talk about it- I mean it is my job after all."

You let out a chuckle at his sudden change in demeanor.

"I don't know, it's kinda really hard for me to just cry in front of people. Or ask for help. Or anything like that." You trail off.

He hums in thought. "Well, how about this. If I catch ya havin' a hard time, you're not allowed to run away." He smiles softly burying his face in your hair.

You huff out a laugh "Hard to say I won't just start avoiding you."

"Then I'll just have to stick by your side and annoy ya even more then, huh." He squeezes you real tight proving his point, both of your smiles growing as laughter begins to bubble up from your chest.

"Ah like you don't already do that enough."

He chuckles at your sarcastic tone before relaxing again.

And after a moment, you finally pull back to look up at his face. Feeling relaxed, grounded, and safe, having gotten to this point so much quicker than any solo sob fest you've given yourself.

And you ask,

"So what was that idea you had?"

His grin widens.

#mammon/reader #mammon x reader #obey me! #mammon #obey me! swd #mammon/mc #fluff #mammon x mc #scenario #angst #fanfic #fanfiction #hurt/comfort #tw: yelling #tw: crying #obey me #om!mammon #platonic #comfort #hurt

[divine-knight-hand]

Rant below the cut!

I just saw a video on TikTok where a woman was claiming that maladaptive daydreaming was a sin, and can I just say, how dare you?

Personal attack and hurt feelings aside, how dare you take it upon yourself to condemn a group that you couldn’t possibly relate to?

She argued that, not only was maladaptive daydreaming a form of idolatry, but choosing not to do anything about it and accepting defeat was a personal affront to God.

As a Christian, yes, I agree, maladaptive daydreaming sucks. It can be controlling, and it can put a strain on my relationship with my God, but have you considered that some a lot of us don’t have a choice?

Maladaptive daydreaming is a mental disorder. Yeah, I said it. It took a long time for me to accept that myself, but it is. And, guess what? I did try to quit. I tried to quit and it worked! I managed to quit cold turkey and stopped maladaptive daydreaming for a whole week. And then, I fell into a depression. I cried myself to sleep every night and begged God, “Please, take this away. I don’t believe I can fight this alone. I need you.”

And His response pretty much equated to, “If you want to leave this behind, you need to fight it on your own.” I’m only human, so of course I failed and it dragged me right back under.

Did I pick the choice He would have wanted me to? Of course not! Is it possible that maladaptive daydreaming could be considered a sin? Sure, I’ll even entertain that idea. But, it is NEVER okay to look down your nose at someone who is clearly having a tougher time than you.

Just as you shouldn’t take it upon yourself to condemn someone with an addiction, you shouldn’t take it upon yourself to condemn someone with a mental disorder. But, that’s the thing with you “Christians”, it’s always “love thy neighbor” until they have different beliefs, ideas, or lives than you. That ideology is fake as fuck, and it’s what made me skeptical of the religion in the first place.

If God sends me to Hell for maladaptive daydreaming, then that would prove that He never loved me at all. But, that’s not what I know to be the truth.

The God I believe in does not hold exceptions. He’s merciful, and He loves all, regardless of their paths of life, and hurts for the decisions we make that end up harming ourselves. He’s not going to condemn any maladaptive daydreamers for struggling in the uphill battle, or even giving up. He’ll hurt for us, yeah, but not send us to Hell.

And, to my fellow maladaptive daydreamers who might have had any “Christians” in their own lives try to guilt trip them out of maladaptive daydreaming, your life is yours alone to judge (and change, if you so choose). Take each day at your own pace, and if you choose to fight it, good on you. But, if not, you won’t face eternal damnation for succumbing to something you’re struggling to face.

And, since the woman in her video chose to use a bible verse in her video, I’d like to contribute one of my own: “The one without sin among you should be the first to throw a stone at her.”‭ -John‬ ‭8‬:‭7‬ ‭CSB‬‬

Remember that story? Yeah, let’s not analyze the flaws of others under a microscope before we dare to take a look at our own.

Rant over!

#That just made my blood boil #Where does the entitlement come from? #The Knight speaks! #tw: vent #tw: mental health #tw: crying #tw: religion #maladaptive daydreaming #maladaptive daydreamer

[nia1sworld]

I'm just sad, depress, in despair, upset, and miserable but..Have a this before I go to sleep

#vent #nia1sworld #:( #gacha club #vent post #tw: crying

[lazymblr]

#life of... #alexander #cassandra #tw: crying

[oldeveryoneknowsflop]

(Tw: tags)

Journal.

amtooscaredtoopenup.

Help.

#teamcreator!!!! #royalmelon #shortswars #iloveroyalpear #tw: vomit #tw: sucidal thoughts #tw mentally ill #tw: death #tw: depression #tw: pills #tw Headaches #tw: crying #tw: depressive thoughts

[in-love-with-writing-whump]

TW: Implied Abuse, Strong Language

Caretaker couldn’t find Whumpee anywhere. They'd been searching the seedy part of the city— this is where they lived?— all night after they had stormed out after an argument, and still nothing. Caretaker didn't like this place, all grimy and full of faces that smiled with too many fangs to be human. The bars clamored with the worst type of clientele, and though their coat did little to protect from the cold, and the warmth enticed them, they ignored it.

They heard some murmuring from a small crowd, and their stomach turned to lead. They pawed their way through the crowd, glaring up at the jostling gossipers. They parted through the sea of people, finally able to see.

Whumpee laid there, still dressed in the less-than-winter-appropriate outfit from earlier, blood matted into their hair, skin all scraped up and bruised. One of their eyes appeared swollen shut, blood dripping from their split lip as they trembled in their unconscious state.

Caretaker shoved the people around them back. "Get the fuck out of here! Don't you have places to be?!"

The crowd grumbled but dispersed upon seeing Caretaker's gun. They crouched before Whumpee, cautious not to touch them. They didn’t want to scare them, instead letting Whumpee see their hands.

"Whumpee?"

They let out what sounded like a whimper, eyelids fluttering but never fully opening. Caretaker had a million questions, but sighed, pinching the bridge of their nose. They already knew have the answers, and besides, they weren't going to get much out of them like this anyway.

Caretaker stood up, shrugging off their coat, thankful for the thick top they had on underneath. They laid it over Whumpee, holding back a cry at how small they looked like that. They weren't supposed to be small.

"Whumpee, I'm going to pick you up now. I'm going to bring you home, alright?"

Their face scrunched up, voice too hoarse. "Whumper... No, please..."

Caretaker knelt back down, eyes burning as Whumpee's arm flailed, not hitting anything, just revealing more bruises and cigarette burns.

"I'm here now, Whumpee. Whumper won't hurt you while I'm here. I'm right here."

They gingerly scooped Whumpee up into their arms, wincing at how hollow they felt, like a strong breeze would blow them away. Whumpee's face nestled into Caretaker's shoulder, and as Caretaker carried them back home— their real home— they let that act as the smallest insurance that they might be okay.

#whump prompt #whumpee #tw: trauma #caretaker #tw: angst #whumper #tw: crying #tw: guilt #tw: abuse #tw: blood #tw: bruises #tw: injury #tw: hypothermia #tw: missing #tw: strong language #tw: violence #tw: self destruction #definitely not based on a new ship I love #nope definitely not

[nemmienimbus]

When you tend to his wounds after a punishment

#he deserves sooo much tlc #obey me mammon #om! mammon #my art #tw: injuries #tw: crying

[ncafterdark]

Kinktober 2023

Day 26: Ares/Ofelia--Overstimulation

*****

“What was that, babe? Couldn’t understand you.” 

“It’s too much, fuck.” 

Her words are thick, clumsy on her tongue, little of their usual polish. She seldom lacks things to say, but her mind is elsewhere, need threatening to overcome rationality. Ofelia’s lips curl into a smile, and it’s more terrifying than a scowl, syrup sweet laced with danger. “I thought you wanted me to touch you.” 

A whine slips from her lips, hand tightening around the woman’s wrist. “Hurts.”

“Shouldn’t be so ungrateful pup. Only giving you what you asked for.” Despite the barbs Ofelia pulls back, lips glistening with her pleasure, brushing a kiss along her thigh, barely resisting the urge to sink her teeth in, hear her whimper. 

“Thank you.” 

“What are you thanking me for?” 

The sound from her almost makes her feel guilty, if she was still capable of that—wondering, naive if she hadn’t known any better. Digging her nails into the soft skin on her side, she slips two fingers inside, pushing back as Ares’ back arches, a pitiful, needy cry. She’s impossible to resist like this, although she’s never been one to deny herself pleasures, particularly when they beg her so nicely. “So sensitive baby.” Meeting her eyes, her core gives a twist of pleasure, tears glittering in the woman’s eyes. Despite it, she tugs her closer, contrary to her words, still eager to please. Distracted enough, she muffles a sob in her shoulder, stretched beautifully around her strap, taking her to the base. Her cybernetic arm clutches at her hard enough she know’s it’ll mark. “Look how easily you take me.” Tracing delicate fingers along the silicone, she lets them linger, higher than she knows Ares wants them, musing almost to herself. “I bet you could take my entire hand if we tried. Should we?” 

The expression on Ares face is vaguely horrified, but it’s not a refusal, knows she’d make it known otherwise. 

“You’d break me.”

“We don’t know that.” 

Ares makes a disbelieving noise in her throat, cut off as Ofelia gives an experimental roll of her hips, pained pleasure that flares up her spine. Hair a mussed halo of waves around her, brown eyes gleaming, she can resist capturing Ares’ lips in a kiss, nipping at her, twist of foreign emotion in her chest when the woman’s hand threads through her hair, a plea in everything but words. 

What are you doing to me?

#cyberpunk ocs #nsft #oc: ares tanner #my writing #kinktober #kinktober 2023 #ship: clockwork heart #tw: power dynamics #tw: cruelty #tw: crying #tw: pain