#Attracts the wrong element too much | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

seelestia · 5 months ago

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✧ the gambler and his knight.

aventurine can't stand having his outfit exposed to the elements nor to the rude hands of clients that won't cooperate – luckily for him, he has you to take care of it all. { aventurine with a bodyguard!reader. }

⎯ fluff & angst. 2.9k wc. headcanons w/ some written scenes. the plot is vv subtle but it's there a.k.a aventurine simps for you (jokingly) but you both end up catching feelings (not jokingly). mentions of violence, death & russian roulette. pre-penacony timeline. a self-indulgent piece to celebrate this blog's 2nd anniv! ★

★ 〜 masterlist.

aventurine who graciously welcomes you under his employment with a game. just a little something to ease your nerves and get you used to his ways. you look at him with such incredulity as if he just fell and hit his head silly. he pays no mind to this – finds it to be amusing a great deal, actually. keep it up, newcomer!

“heads or tails?” he asks, flipping a coin in the air and catching it seamlessly. a routine for him, you would've figured from the sight. “that's. . . an odd way of saying hello,” you point out but your tone bears no hint of protest. he notices that.

“i've heard that one before,” aventurine tilts his head with a smile, nonchalant. “so what's your guess?”

“tails,” you reply without any delay. it's a mindless answer; getting it wrong this way would prove to bear less disappointment compared to putting actual thought in it. “heads for me then,” he whistles.

aventurine opens his palm. it's heads. you frown as if to suspect foul play—but you don't because you know about his notoriously good luck—and your new boss chuckles, almost placatingly.

“looks like i win,” he grins without a care in the world at all. “aren't you starving? let's fetch ourselves a meal, friend.”

a loss rewarded with a prize? you blink. with grace so in contrast to the whiplash you feel, aventurine walks past you with a trail of expensive perfume in his wake. obviously, he expects you to follow and you do after a moment's reluctance.

(this guy is more confusing than the stellaron.)

aventurine who grows quite fond of seeing you acquiesce to his wishes, whether serious or trivial. could you ward off those reporters? could you pour him a drink? could you play a game of poker with him? could you join him for lunch? you're always so professional that he starts to find some mirth in pushing your buttons (never too much). unlucky for you, he does it to be affectionate and lucky for him, you always say yes even if you roll your eyes every single time.

aventurine who trusts you with his credit card. . . to a worrying degree. when asked if he's sure about this, he just waves it off and says it'll be safer in your hands. seriously, this card has been in your possession longer than it's ever been in his. sometimes, he does ask for it back – only to drop some 200k credits to your account. “a tip for doing a good job,” he'd wink casually while you're flabbergasted beyond belief.

aventurine who finds it extremely attractive whenever you step in to protect him from harm. dealing with uncooperative clients is a day in his life, yet some are so brutish they resort to getting physical – but he has you to make sure their hands stay off him. a gun in his direction? knocked off before the trigger even has a chance to get pulled. reaching out to grab him by the collar? they're already on the ground, your foot threateningly pressed on their back as a warning. what a dashing sight – and thanks to you, his pristine outfit has been saved more times than he could count at this point.

aventurine who likes to call you his “knight in shining armor” teasingly. awh, you don't like it? he thinks you're more than deserving of that title with the way you always swoop in to get him out of trouble. if the thousands of credits he gives you aren't enough yet, won't a cute title suffice? “it sounds corny,” you tell him with a grimace—and maybe, yes—but he just chirps coyly, “dunno. i think it's fitting.”

aventurine who makes it his responsibility to check on you after a rough mission. credits are no problem, he'd even reserve the most expensive private doctor in the cosmos if that means you'll recover faster. sadly, he has little to no medical skills – so the most he can offer you is bandages. sure, you can take a bullet to the stomach and handle a punch or two, that's your job, but what about tiny scratches? . . .don't tell him you're about to reject his kind offer.

“what's your favorite color?” he queries, somewhat out of the blue considering the situation where he is helping you tend to a minor cut on your finger. you raise an eyebrow, “why do you wanna know?” as he gently plasters a plain-colored bandage on your skin (which he's only been granted permission to after minutes of begging you to let him do it).

“for the bandages,” aventurine answers. he finds no need to hide his intentions as he runs a thumb over the bandage, softly as to not hurt you, to keep its position secure. “so that the next time you ask, i'll have some in your favorite color for sure.”

“how. . . thoughtful of you,” you snort, amused.

(briefly, he resists the urge to ask if he can place a kiss on your cut for 'luck'. but if he does, you might have his head. so, he'll try another time.)

aventurine who slowly begins to find a sense of comfort in your company. maybe, it's the way you scoff at his quips with a smile or the way you always tell him to be careful. maybe, it's the way you take him seriously or the way you stay by his side—is your job description the only reason why?—or maybe, he's just pathetic and reeks of so much loneliness you feel sympathetic. he can't tell, but he hopes the luxuries he has can persuade you to stay just a little longer. even if you don't actually care. (you do.)

aventurine who notices how anxiety brims in your gaze when you watch him gamble at the table – with a sum too high to be considered sane and sometimes, his own life. he can see it all; how your hands shake as if you want to reach out, how your lips tremble as if you want to tell him to stop. but this is what he's made for, is it not? he'll survive one way or another. . . until fate decides the bill for all his past good fortune is finally due. and when the time comes, he'll be ready for it. (will you?)

a game of russian roulette.

it always starts with thrills only to end with carnage spilled all over the table. luck is the only thing worth praying for at that point and oh, is luck not the dearest friend aventurine ever had? hence the reason why he always agrees, not with a yes but with a “why not?”.

you're there as his protector, yet utterly condemned to the role of a witness as soon as aventurine nods along to that darned game. panic rushes through your veins as the gun is passed around so relaxedly, so easily with laughter all around. aventurine's next in line, you realize grimly. the next decision that comes after is spontaneous, so different from your usual calculated nature – you drag him out of the casino in a frenzy before the weapon even lands in his hand. in your head, there is no other thought louder than: he could've died.

“a shame i didn't get to the fun part,” you hear him hum from behind you, too disturbingly calm for your liking. the bustling noises inside the establishment have all but faded into the background. “that was close, hm?” he laughs, a sound you would've found endearing if this was another occasion. any occasion that doesn't involve teetering dangerously on the precipice of death.

you stop in your tracks and aventurine, behind you, naturally follows. your silence is something he first takes note of and the way your hand shakes as it holds his is the second. you still haven't let go. what's going through your mind? he calls out your name softly, perplexed at your lack of explanation.

“. . .why did you say yes?” you respond with a bitter question. “you could've died. you almost died,” you try to hold back a shout – yet, your words are spat in such a fusillade he feels a seed of guilt starting to bloom inside his lifeless heart. he discards it in favor of putting on a frivolous smile.

“oh, relax,” he lets out a chuckle, one that sounds so ignorant of the taut tension in the air. “it's just some russian roulette. why so serious?” he shrugs as if to physically brush off any seriousness clinging to his figure. his remark gives off the assumption that every single hint of your worry has flown over his head.

“it is serious. . .” you bite your bottom lip. he sneers in return, “yeah? since when?” as if to challenge you to give an actual answer. his life is full of risks, to say otherwise would be a lie. “you're sweet for worrying but you don't actually care about me that much, do you?” he snickers to himself. like the thought of your caring about him can't possibly be true, like it's all just a terrible joke.

but he's the only one laughing.

aventurine falls quiet and finally, genuinely meets your gaze for the first time that night. he doesn't like what he sees. your lips are downturned, unamused and saddened—you do care, a realization that has been left unsaid—and all remainders of levity in him are replaced by immediate dread. it only now registers that the anger, concern, frustration on your face are for him; they're the unavoidable consequences from caring about him.

(his eyes widen. no, no, no.)

“c'mon, you—” he covers it up with a carefree smile, as feigned as it came. he shoves his hand in one of his pockets. it's shaking. “. . .worry too much. you've seen me play a handful of games before. i've never lost a wager, remember?”

you don't look convinced at all. in fact, you look as if you've arrived at the brink of seething. “and if you do? for once in your life, you lose?” you prod him for more. for something, for anything – perhaps, for a promise that he won't do it again.

(but you know aventurine, you know there would be no such promise.)

“then i lose,” he says, final and resigned. “there's really nothing else to it,” he tries to offer you another smile but it didn't quite reach his eyes. “hey. at least, you'll be there to witness my spectacular fall, right? it'll be a show to remember.”

he nearly doesn't manage to keep up the façade. it's already as precarious as it can be. you don't reply to him this time – instead, you let go of his hand to wipe at your cheeks. his gaze trails after your fingers and it freezes upon seeing the pearly tears falling free from your eyes.

aventurine has never seen you cry before. you're always so stone-faced, so hard to break that he recalls almost cheering when he heard you laugh for the first time. that was when you finally won a round of poker against him. a pity, he would've reminisced about the memory more. . . if only the matter of losing and winning a game isn't as serious as it is now.

“don't say that,” you mutter, harshly wiping away at the incessant tears pouring from your eyes more than you'd ever allow them to. some make their way into your mouth, they taste just as bitter as your current frustration. does he truly value his life so little? you can't fathom it, you can't fathom him at all.

but there is one thing you were certain of, at the very least: “you hired me to protect you,” you shake your head unrelentingly, “so i'll do it. until you throw me away, i won't let you die.”

you've stopped crying then. aventurine feels remorse; the tears that you shed because of him are starting to dry. the selfish part of him wants to reach out and brush them away with his thumb – but would you let him? would this lead you further down the rabbit hole that is him? in the end, he decides against it.

“. . .i'm sorry,” he sighs instead, raking a hand through his messy blond hair. whatever it is he is apologizing for, he doesn't have a clue either. he lets his eyes slip shut. he can't bear to look at you, can't bear to look at his pitiful reflection in your eyes.

(he's not worth caring about, can't you see? he dances hand in hand with death – there is no need to subject yourself to being a spectator.)

the two of you then part ways that night with shallow pleasantries on your tongues. no inside jokes, no evident yearning for the other to stay, no more than an awkward exchange of “i'll see you tomorrow.”

on his way 'home', regret and relief clash to form something inexplicably hollow inside kakavasha's chest. he wanted to wipe away your tears—what a regret—but if he did, they would've burned on his skin and became another mark to haunt him—what a relief he didn't. and frankly, if destiny is about to reap his debt, he'd rather go with no regrets at all.

whether those regrets include you? he doesn't have an answer just yet.

(the name at the bottom of his contract with fate is signed as kakavasha. but you wouldn't recognize that name. not as him, at least.)

aventurine whose eyes can't flutter close at night ever since thoughts of you fill his mind more than they already do before. you care for him, you want him to live—all his fault, he allowed himself to get too close—but these realizations are rooted in too deep and refuse to leave. what to do, what to do, what to do?

it isn't supposed to turn out like this.

what he and you have is meant to be transactional; he'd be spared from unnecessary scuffles and you'd be compensated with monetary payment. he means to keep it superficially fun; for him to tease you with jests—so you'd stay and save him from the deafening silence in his head—and for you to dismiss him with that adorably annoyed look on your face. just some silly banter, that's it.

so then, since when are there rounds of poker where he'd coo over your frown when you lost? or the sound of your lecturing after he secretly got you a high-end item? or meals shared together where you'd bicker over the bill? or bandages in your favorite color kept inside his bedside table? since when do you start to care? . . .since when does he start to care?

think of something else.

kakavasha tosses and turns in his bed, but the soft pillows and blanket do nothing to quell these bothers of his. are feelings always this complicated? he places a hand over his eyes, tired and exhausted, and stares at the ceiling as if it could provide him with an answer.

but there's no use.

in a moment void of logical thinking, he reaches for his phone and hovers a finger over your name in his contacts. he is usually good friends with bad ideas – but not this time, he sets his phone down and lets out a frustrated sigh that only his expensive pillows are there to hear.

(for gaiathra's sake, he hasn't even told you his real name yet.)

aventurine who becomes awfully distant the next time he sees you. you accompany him to meetings with clients per usual, but it's different. . . he talks to you succinctly, not verbosely with that trademark grin of his. his face is bereft of the things you grow to like seeing on him. a sincere smile instead of one just for show, for example. but even that's difficult to ask for since he only speaks to fill the silence with empty chatter. he doesn't look you in the eyes either; you feel a pang of hurt, you've always loved his eyes.

aventurine who discards all thoughts of you as soon as he steps inside pier point to be assigned a project. a conclave between the stonehearts is a matter of top confidentiality and you, dutifully, are ordered to wait for him outside the office. though, he'll admit; your absence by his side actually does leave a gaping void—such hypocrisy, really—but at least, those pesky voices in his head know how to shut up when it comes to work.

“penacony. . . is diamond finally ready to do something about it?”

aventurine rests his left hand on the small of his back, fiddling with the clubs-shaped detailing on the fabric there. it looks like an act of idleness from afar, but anyone observant enough would know it's a way to subdue whatever nerves he wishes to hide.

he waits for the person in front of him, gazing at the purplish-red sky of pier point at sunset, to speak. for their next words shall mark the start of his next journey in fate's course.

aventurine who hesitates to let you come to penacony with him at first. but it'd be poor reasoning not to, since some might have a bone to pick with him as the corporation's representative. . . and he knows you'll protest to come with anyway. fine then, situationship discomfiture be damned – not even a second after he steps out of the meeting, his neon eyes finally meet yours. “so, how does a trip to penacony sound?” he announces with a confident smile. you blink, noticing how his lips are wobbling at the sides. you don't say no, however. (if only the two of you know what sort of ride you're getting yourselves into.)

— thanks for reading! reblogs with comments are most appreciated. why don't we all sob over this man like it's a cryfest ♡

#hsr x reader #aventurine x reader #—stellaronhvnters.#honkai star rail x reader #aventurine x you #hsr headcanons #hsr imagines #hsr fluff #hsr angst #seelestial.inks #gambler & knight 🎲

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novy2sirius · 4 months ago

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₊˚⊹ astrology notes volume five

─ .✧ tuts if you need them

─ .✧ these are based on isolated placements, so take it with a grain of salt since your entire chart matters. these are mostly based on western astrology

─ .✧ this time around a lot of these are just random opinions and not based on literal facts

˖༉ your pisces and 12h placements can show what area of life you’re spiritually protected in. an example: having a pisces mars can mean you are spiritually protected well when others hurt you or hate on you and that someone can get really bad karma for doing so

˖༉ aquarius' are so obsessed with what they can’t have or just doing the opposite of what people tell them to do. if you tell them to leave you alone, they’ll want you more. if you tell they can’t do something, they’ll wanna do it more. if you tell them they shouldn’t sky dive without a parachute, they will

˖༉ the midheaven is so important when it comes to your life’s purpose. not just the north node. for example: a capricorn midheaven is meant to work hard and become wealthy or at the very least successful in some way

˖༉ leo’s are known for being the “popular ones” of the zodiac signs, but cancer's are often very popular too. the moon is always shining bright in the sky just like the sun. it’s also why cancer placements crave lots of attention

˖༉ because of numerology capricorn and aries are an amazing pairing, even though astrologically based on their elements they aren’t. i sometimes find the letterology of the signs to have more accuracy when discussing compatibility

˖༉ the descendant can tell about the qualities you like in others. for example: an aquarius descendant can indicate you like others that are super weird/unique and are free spirits that make everyone feel like they can be themselves

˖༉ when at a lower vibration taurus placements will apologize and then continue to do the thing that they already apologized for. they may also know they’re in the wrong yet still argue their point

˖༉ pisces and 12h placements usually find it very difficult to quit bad habits. especially if they’re a pisces moon or have their moon in the 12h

˖༉ everyone says scorpios are loyal, but i’ve noticed that they won’t be if you don’t play by their rules. sometimes if you cheat, they’ll cheat

˖༉ nobody really talks about it but sags are huge flirts. sometimes they’re players though. i would go as far as to say they sometimes have better game than libras

˖༉ when discussing elements then aries and libra would technically be compatible, but numerically they’re not at all. they’re fatally attracted to one another and libra energy really admires aries energy, but they shouldn’t be together

˖༉ people with 5h stelliums enjoy being busy a lot and constantly doing things. sitting around too much will make them feel depressed. they aren’t usually huge homebody’s unless they have a lot of water in their chart

˖༉ i like cancer placements don’t get me wrong but at times they can come off really cheesy or corny with some of the things they say

˖༉ taurus and 2h placements like to act tough on the outside but often they are actually hurting on the inside. they’re very sensitive and take things to heart

˖༉ aries and aquarius’ often end up in romantic relationships together. aries are most compatible with aquarius’ compared to other signs

˖༉ your capricorn placements can tell you what area of life you will need lots of patience in. example: a capricorn venus indicates you need to be very patient with your loved ones

#astrology #astrology blog #astrology chart #birth chart #astrology community #astro community #numerology #numerology blog #matrix

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astrow1zar6 · 11 months ago

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Astro Observations-014

If you wanna date someone who’s basically impossible to get to know date a Scorpio moon. I find they really don’t trust anyone. Not even close friends that have known them for years. Any sign of betrayal even if it’s small will cause this sign to never tell you certain things again. You guys need to realize not everyone is trying to hurt you.

A lot of Scorpio Venus’s/mars grew up seeing a lot of jealousy & manipulation from relationship’s (mostly from family) they normally pick up from this and carries it to their relationships.

Libra placements will flirt with people they have no interest in for attention. They break a lot of hearts. They act like they aren’t aware they do it but they definitely are. Y’all can’t mess with ppls feeling like that 😕

Aquarius sun women are either really popular and social or really outcasted and antisocial

Aquarius moons can be really mean when people become too emotional around them. I believe tho ironically this is the most emotional Aquarius placement. They hate dealing with others emotions because their emotions are so deep themselves that dealing with other’s problems can become too overwhelming.

Pisces risings are so secretive about their romantic relationships (Libra in 8th house) most people never know who they’re dating or talking too. They prefer a private love life.

Aquarius Venus’s are fashion icons. They can make some of the weirdest pieces look so expensive

Sagittarius and Geminis are the most compatible pair of opposites imo. I’ve seen these signs stay together for soooo long

Leo moons have the least confidence out of all the leo placements I noticed. They are really sensitive and the smallest ounce of disapproval can break these people. Be gentle with them plz🥺

Virgo suns all look so clean, they also smell like heaven too (ESPECIALLY with a Leo Venus) they all give princess vibes.

People with a 12th house taurus value stability sooo much but can never seem to settle their restless nature. This is one of their biggest challenges (cuz of their Gemini rising)

Whatever element you lack in your chart you’re more likely to find people that have that element. Ex: if you lack water placements, you’ll be more attracted to water dominants because they give you what you lack in a way.

Capricorn risings usually hate their smiles, even if there’s nothing wrong with it. A lot feel like their smile ruins their face.

When you have a lot of 12th house placements people normally make assumptions about you that aren’t even close to who you actually are.

Pisces men are the most confusing in a relationship you never know if they actually like you or not. They are so charming and lovey but deep down it feels kinda fake?

Taurus mars work the best when they are working with their hands or they’re working in nature

Virgo mercury’s are amazing writers and usually love reading. Many can be successful novelists.

I feel like the least compatible compatible signs are Taurus and Virgo. I’ve seen the spark die so quick in these relationships and they normally stay together because it “works” practically. But I notice they get more irritated with each-other as time goes.

I notice men that have a lot of kids from different women have a Jupiter in their 5th house. Or just a lot of 5th house placements.

Venus in 5th housers tend to have more girls than boys. Their first child was probably a girl. Also indicates very attractive children.

#astro observations #astrologist #astrology #astro community #astro notes #astroblr

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winged-self-indulgence · 11 months ago

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Why Do People Like Yanderes?

Hi everyone, my name is Diya, and this was going to be a YT video-essay-type-thing but I'm too poor to afford a mic and too busy with college to learn how to edit videos, so here's my vague exploration of the psychology behind why people like yanderes so much through the lens of my favourite Visual Novels.

TW for uh. yandere content. Mentions of sex, gore, and non-con, particularly in the last topic. This is more like the first draft of an academic paper so while it's not explicit, I do go into some detail.

Introduction

If you’re a fan of anime or visual novels, then you’re probably already aware of what a yandere is, or at the very least you’ve seen that one picture of Yuno Gasai. Still, for the sake of thoroughness, let’s take it from the tippy top. The term ‘yandere’ is a Japanese portmanteau of ‘yanderu’ – the progressive form of ‘yami’ – meaning ‘sick’, and ‘deredere’ which roughly translates to ‘loving’. Together, the word refers to someone who is – in short – extremely lovesick. Obsessive to the extreme, and with little morality to spare, the standard yandere is characterized by a dangerous fixation on a chosen target, often appearing shy and caring at first only to flip the script and become violently aggressive towards perceived threats (Kroon, 2010).

It should be noted that yanderes are not a strictly romantic or sexual trope. The Ancient Greeks classified at least six forms of love, from familial (storge) to guests (xenia). Modern psychologists may distinguish love as either Companionate or Passionate (Kim & Hatfield, 2004) or consisting of three dimensions of Intimacy, Passion, and Commitment (Sternberg & Sternberg, 2018). Realistically, possessiveness shows up in a variety of relationships. However, people are generally primed to view certain dynamics as inherently amorous. Societal norms tend to encourage the idea that romantic bonds ought to rank above all others, and therefore if Person A is bizarrely fixated on Person B, then clearly there must be an element of sexual interest involved regardless of the actual relationship between the individuals in question.

Regardless, yanderes remain quite popular in fiction. Many dismiss it as a fetish, which it can be, but that isn’t the case for everyone. While there is nothing wrong with indulging in kinky fiction, not all of us get horny at the thought of being chained up in someone’s basement, no matter how hot our captor may be. So why is it so pervasive? Why is this trope so appealing that most writers cannot help but include at least a single line of dialogue implying that – if circumstances had been ever so slightly different – my wholesome shoujo romcom might have turned into a psychological horror?

Hybristophilia

‘Hybristophilia’, also known as Bonnie and Clyde Syndrome after the titular criminal couple, is a word is derived from the Greek word ‘hybridzein’ meaning ‘to commit an outrage against someone’ and ‘philo’ which means ‘a strong preference for’. Sexologist John Money reportedly defined it as a paraphilia in which an individual is sexually aroused by a partner who has a predatory history of hurting other people (Money, 1986, as cited in Matuszak, 2017). In his book, Serial Killer Groupies, true crime and crime fiction author RJ Parker distinguished two forms of hybristophilia: passive and aggressive. The former is when an individual contacts a criminal with the intention of striking up a relationship with them, allowing themselves to be seduced and manipulated but having no interest in committing a crime themselves. The latter are far more dangerous, as the individual not only derives sexual pleasure from their partner’s atrocities but are active participants in carrying out or covering up the crime. To quote Griffiths (2013, as cited in Pettigrew, 2019):

“[They] help out their lovers with their criminal agenda by luring victims, hiding bodies, covering crimes, or even committing crimes. They are attracted to their lovers because of their violent actions and want to receive love yet are unable to understand that their lovers are psychopaths who are manipulating them.”

In some ways, hybristophilia is the nearest thing we have to a realistic understanding of why people love yanderes. I mean, much of the fantasy surrounding such characters and their media tend to be filled with posts begging to be spat on or calling the rightfully terrified main character ungrateful for being a teeny bit upset about finding surveillance cameras in their ceiling. However, enjoying fictitious immoral activity does not predict real perpetration, so what does? There exists little consensus amongst psychologists as to what sparks this particular predilection, and that was strange to me. You would think there would be more studies into this topic, in spite of or perhaps because of its controversial nature. Heck, that one dude wouldn’t shut up about white women’s obsession with Bundy and Dahmer, and I assumed he had gotten that information from somewhere, but it turns out that was just him using modifiers to justify sexism.

However, I believe that we can hedge a few guesses, and over the course of my research, I’ve organized the main rationalizations under four umbrellas which I will explore through the lens of my favourite yandere-themed Visual Novels. Please keep in mind that most of these games are rated as mature due to sexual scenes and/or gore. Additionally, in the spirit of transparency, this ramble will be focused exclusively on male or masculine yanderes. So, without further ado:

Call Me Bob the Builder Because I Can Fix Them

If you’re familiar with DC Comic’s Batman, or just happen to have attended any costume event held over the span of the last 20+ years, you may be familiar with the character of Dr. Harleen Quinzel, better known as Harley Quinn. Initially created as the Joker’s one-off sidekick in Batman The Animated Series, she was so well-received by audiences that she became a recurring character in the cartoon and was eventually given a proper origin story in the form of a one-shot titled Mad Love.

Harley’s origin story has seen some alterations over the past decades, but the core aspects remain largely untouched. In the beginning, Harleen Quinzel was a promising young woman who wanted was a degree from the university’s prestigious psychology department, which she gained through…less than scrupulous means.

(Listen, I’m not sure if the authors were leaning on the Dumb Blonde stereotype, or if they simply thought that casting her as a genuinely bad student would make her later actions more believable. Either way, the idea of Harley as someone with a legitimate PhD came later)

After landing an internship at Arkham Asylum – a half-hospital and half-prison straight out of the 1870s that might as well be built out of one-ply tissue-paper soaked with gasoline and left next to a crate of fireworks – Harleen set her sights on the then incarcerated Joker. At the start, her fixation on the criminal wasn’t remotely sympathetic. She didn’t want to help him, she wanted to use him. Harleen Quinzel wanted piggyback off his infamy and write a tell-all tale detailing what sort of messed up childhood resulted in Gotham’s Clown Prince of Crime. Yet the more she interacted with him, the more the Joker took advantage of her empathy. By the end of their sessions, Harley no longer saw him as a violent serial killer with a clown schtick, but as a “lost, injured child looking to make the world laugh at his antics.”

But Diya, you may be asking, what does this have to do with the video? The Joker never loved Harley, and it could even be argued – as Shehadeh did in a 2017 essay – that her obsession with the pasty-faced clown is more akin to Histrionic Personality Disorder. While that may be the case, I believe that Harley’s story provides one of the reasons yanderes are so popular: their backstory.

Whether they were abandoned by their family, bullied by their peers, experimented on by evil scientists, starved on the streets, died under mysterious circumstances and then trapped in a haunted VCR tape for decades, or are simply so impossibly inhuman that they frankly do not understand why it isn’t socially acceptable to imprison their crush in a pocket dimension made of meat and non-Euclidean geometry, yanderes often have fairly sympathetic or at least understandable explanations for why they are Like That. Your mileage may vary significantly depending on how much you sympathize with these motives, but the point is that yanderes always make sense to some degree. Their morality and priorities may be twisted or even completely incomprehensible, but the audience almost always knows the reason, and that can be comforting. In the real world, other people aren’t always straightforward, and we never really know what they’re thinking, but narrative coherence demands a semblance of internal consistency lest the audience end up frustrated and confused. So yanderes are not only easy to sympathize with, but also fairly predictable. In-universe they may be unhinged freaks with a blood fetish, but to you watching from behind the safety of the screen they’re just acting out the script written for them based on a prototype. And if you understand the why behind their loose gears, then you might just be able to put them back together again.

The concept of rescue romances or “I Can Fix Them” has been around in our stories for thousands of years. The Epic of Gilgamesh detailed how Shamhat essentially ‘civilized’ wild man Enkidu through ritual lovemaking, and a concerning number of religions push the idea that women are dutybound to save men from the follies of sin. Yet men are not exempt either, with one notable example being the German fairytale, King Thrushbeard. Call it what you will regardless: Knights in Shining Armour, the Florence Nightingale Effect, or a plain old case of Because You Were Nice to Me, studies have shown that human beings generally like helping [DA2] others, even when the reason doesn’t necessarily stem from pure altruism. I will delve deeper into this later, but care and compassion are deeply ingrained in human nature, and arising from those roots is the appeal of this mentality: You can save them. You can change them. You can make them better. You are special, and the way you treat this person carries a weight that has not and will never be matched by anyone else for the rest of their mortal or immortal existence.

The illusion is a delicious one, especially if the person you’ve helped turns out to be a billionaire CEO with cash to burn, a super powerful ghost king willing to raze continents to dust for you, a demon having fun on a Friday night, or just your average hot creep with a knife. Moreover, different people have different ideas of what ‘fixing’ even means. Maybe you want to single-handedly rehabilitate your yandere into a functional member of society. Maybe you’re cool with the incessant stalking but would like them to stop slaughtering your friends, family, and local service workers. Maybe you want to make them much, much worse.

Not only do yanderes provide immediate proof that your actions have a tangible impact on the lives of others, but the fantasy also includes the desire of being seen as special. Of being admired and adored by someone whose life you inexplicably made better by virtue of simply being yourself, or an idealized version of yourself. In this fictional world, in this imaginary setting, the person you are is so uniquely, impossibly irreplaceable to someone. And if that’s the case then they can’t risk losing you, can they?

The Allure of Obsession, or ‘Til Death Do Us Part (Literally)

It shouldn’t be necessary, but here is my obligatory disclaimer anyway. Ahem: obsession is not a good thing in real life. Fixating on another human to the detriment of your own wellbeing and that of those around you is dangerous, as is encouraging someone else to obsess over you. You might think you are being worshiped, but real life is not a visual novel. The outside world doesn’t come with an age rating, the author’s guiding pen, and a convenient fade to credits sequence once you’ve reached an ending. The consequences will still be there in the morning, so don’t do it. Just don’t.

PSA out of the way, it’s natural to want to be wanted. Maslow’s Hierarchy places it just above physical safety, but I’d argue that it could easily be compared to baser drives. According to many psychological and anthropological studies, much of humanity’s continued survival and environmental dominance is largely attributed to our ability to form groups, cooperate with one another, and maintain complex interpersonal networks. Social support, intimacy, and a sense of belonging are linked to emotional and physical benefits, such as more optimistic health perceptions, higher subjective well-being, increased creativity and innovation, and greater self-efficacy (DeWall & Bushman, 2011; Harandi et al., 2017; Wang & Sha, 2018). Therefore, it’s perfectly understandable that rejection of any sort would be construed as a threat.

But if someone is obsessed with you, then you have no reason to worry about that, right? No more nights spent agonizing over how they feel about you, asking yourself whether your last text made you sound too desperate, or if you’re boring them because you spent the past hour info-dumping about Stardew Valley farm layouts. With a yandere, there will never be any doubt that they care about you. Sure, they might go about it in weird, manipulative, and insidious ways that violate your physical and mental autonomy, but you can’t deny their loyalty. They do love you in their own bizarre way. You are the sun around which they orbit. When you’re in the room, no one else exists. Every single messy flaw is just another bullet point on the mile-long list of why they adore you.

In essence, yanderes are not only attentive, but their love can be virtually unconditional. A yandere might know everything about you, and still revere you. It’s unhealthy as hell and you might genuinely question their taste, but it can be tempting to pretend that all of you, right down to the ugliest parts of yourself – the traits and choices that you would never share with another living soul even at gunpoint – are worthy of understanding, if not open praise and affection.

Attractiveness, or Okay but Have You Considered That They’re Hot Though?

I mean what am I supposed to say here? They’re hot, what do you want from me?

No, but in all seriousness, fictional media paints an idealized version of the world, and most yanderes are hot because they have the freedom of existing purely behind that screen; artfully arranged and edited to forever appear compelling to anyone who happens to enjoy their particular style. And there are a lot of styles to choose from. Whether you want them pretty faced and disarmingly cute, or scarred up and big enough to pin you like a butterfly, yanderes come in a wide variety of shapes and sizes that are meant to pique your interest and draw you in like a naïve little fish being lured towards the mouth of an angler fish, unwilling to believe that anything bad might happen to us when the bait is this pretty.

This is often referred to as the Halo Effect, a form of cognitive bias referring to the tendency for people to assume that a single obvious positive trait must be associated with other positive traits. The go-to characteristic is typically physical attractiveness, but a nice voice, good humour, and cooking skills are also factors which serve to influence our perceptions.

So, conventional physical attractiveness is one thing, but that’s only skin deep. What about beyond that? After all, the yandere still has to talk to you before they enact their master plan of tying you up in their basement until Stockholm Syndrome kicks in.

When I showed my friend a picture of John Doe from the game John Doe, she told me that he looked like a creepy slob, and she’s far from the only person who’s ever thought so. Look at them. I feel like if I tried to comb that hair it would simply eat me, and some of the CGs really put the scopophobia in Scopophobia Studios. I love Doe, but he is not hot, and he doesn’t behave in a normally appealing way either. If the player chooses not to take a bath, Doe will immediately comment that you “smell good” before following you home, breaking into your house, and leaving a bloody organ on the floor for the player to trip over. Many yanderes can at least fake a veneer of normalcy, but from the get-go Doe doesn’t even bother to pretend he’s anything less than an otherworldly creature stuffed into a vaguely person-shaped meatsuit. In an effort to find out why so many people had latched on to Doe – including me – I shopped around social media and YouTube for answers, and what I found was a widely unanimous sentiment.

While some were drawn to his fun design and goofy personality, most simply thought that he wasn’t inherently malevolent, just very confused. In addition to being a supernatural being with a completely alien axis of morality, Doe’s meta-awareness and unbridled attempts at winning the player’s affection lends him quite a bit of support from the audience, especially if you yourself also happen to struggle with social cues and relate to his pure earnestness. In Ending 7 of the extended version, the player character has the option to tell Doe – who has altered himself to pass as more ‘normal’ – that they prefer who he truly is, at which point he grows visibly flustered and sports an adorable pair of literal heart-shaped pupils.

Whether they’re charismatic, seductive, cute, sweet, funny, nurturing, or generous, the best yanderes have engaging personalities. Even while they’re committing truly heinous crimes against God, man, and your guts, you still kinda want to hang out with them, and you want them to acknowledge you as being just as interesting. And this is all fine in fiction because you’re the one in charge, and if you ever get bored or uncomfortable or busy with something else, then you can simply close the tab or window with zero consequences, which brings us to the final and most important reason.

Power Dynamics and Consent in Fantasy (I Couldn’t Think of a Joke Here Guys, This Is Kinda Serious)

Once again, I feel that I must preface this section just for the sake of my own peace of mind: sexual coercion and assault are vile and disgusting crimes that should never be emulated or tolerated in the real world. We are speaking purely of fictional media, specifically adult-oriented media in this case, so please be mindful.

In 2009, Bivoni and Critelli conducted a study on 355 undergraduate women with the goal of assessing the reasons behind fantasies of non-consent. At the time, there were two leading explanations of this phenomenon. One stated that women with high libidos but repressed views of sex used these imaginary scenarios to alleviate the guilt they had grown to associate with sex. Because the simulation was a purely mental exercise and they themselves were cast as helpless victims in the scenario, they were able to remain blameless while still finding sexual gratification. The second stated that these fantasies were an expression of liberation by women who were adventurous and comfortable enough with their own sexuality to engage with taboo ideas that they weren’t at all interested in performing in real life. Which do you think was more common?

If you guessed the second option, you’d be right. The study found that of the 220 women who had experienced such fantasies, 45% found theirs erotic, 46% were mixed, and only 9% reported pure aversion. One justification for this outcome relies on psycho-biological theories, for example masochistic preferences or the unintended activation of the sympathetic nervous system and subsequent mis-attribution of arousal. Other reasons have to do with higher order thinking and are tied to the power dynamics within such fantasies. On the surface is the appeal of being so desirable to someone that they simply cannot control themselves, but then there is a deeper impulse, which the researchers referred to as Adversary Transformation. To quote the article: “[fantasies] involve a struggle between an assailant and a potential victim in which it is relevant to consider who is the winner and who is the loser. At one level, it is a struggle over sex, but the woman's non-consent may be feigned or token. At another level, the woman may be seeking a victory that is not about whether sex occurs, but about what happens emotionally between the protagonists.”

Basically, the imaginary perpetrator may have ‘won’, but the self-character need not have ‘lost’.

Media provides an extra layer to the illusion, one that you as the viewer have absolute control over. If you are choosing to engage with a piece of media that explicitly labels itself as including R18+ yandere content, then you clearly have some expectations, and that background awareness goes a long way in reducing long-term discomfort and allowing audiences to make informed decisions. If you don’t like the plot, you can simply turn it off it with the click of a button, and when the screen goes dark it’s not like the yandere is going to punish you for saying no. Strade isn’t going to break into your house with a drill, there are no homicidal clown ghosts hiding in your TV, and no suspicious pink-haired hackers watching your webcam. They aren’t real, and the consequences aren’t real either. You have all the power here.

Conclusion

In summary, Yanderes are appealing for a variety of reasons. Whether you want to save them, think they’re attractive, wish to indulge in a dream of being utterly coveted, or simply enjoy a bit of spice in your me-time, it’s obvious why the trope has persisted for so long and will likely continue to do so. If you enjoy yanderes but are worried that having a taste for the less wholesome side of things might imply something about who you are as a person, don’t be. The notion that fantasies and media preferences directly reflect subconscious desires is not only painfully out of date debunked nonsense but also indicative of restrictive ideologies wherein bad thoughts = sin. This isn’t 1984. You haven’t committed a thought-crime by having a weird kink. You aren't going to superhell for fantasizing. The human mind is hardly ever so mathematically rational, and the point of fiction is to allow us to safely engage with and explore various ideas, provided the everyone involved is mentally, chronologically, and emotionally mature enough to do so.

Thank you all for listening to me. If you learned something or were just a little bit entertained. If you're curious about knowing more, I've listed my sources below

REFERENCES

Bivona, J. M., & Critelli, J. W. (2009). The Nature of Women’s Rape Fantasies: An analysis of prevalence, frequency, and contents. Journal of Sex Research, 46(1), 33–45. https://doi.org/10.1080/00224490802624406

Critelli, J. W., & Bivona, J. M. (2008). Women’s Erotic Rape Fantasies: An Evaluation of Theory and research. Journal of Sex Research, 45(1), 57–70. https://doi.org/10.1080/00224490701808191

DeWall, C. N., & Bushman, B. J. (2011). Social acceptance and rejection. Current Directions in Psychological Science, 20(4), 256–260. https://doi.org/10.1177/0963721411417545

Flynn, F. J., Reagans, R., Amanatullah, E. T., & Ames, D. R. (2006). Helping one’s way to the top: Self-monitors achieve status by helping others and knowing who helps whom. Journal of Personality and Social Psychology, 91(6), 1123–1137. https://doi.org/10.1037/0022-3514.91.6.1123

Harandi, T. F., Taghinasab, M. M., & Nayeri, T. D. (2017). The correlation of social support with mental health: A meta-analysis. Electronic Physician, 9(9), 5212–5222. https://doi.org/10.19082/5212

Hazen, H. (1983). Endless rapture: rape, romance, and the female imagination. https://openlibrary.org/books/OL3161300M/Endless_rapture

Kroon, R. W. (2010). A/V A to z: An Encyclopedic Dictionary of Media, Entertainment and Other Audiovisual Terms. McFarland.

Matuszak, M. (2017). Hybristophilia White Paper. https://static1.squarespace.com/static/55dfd21ee4b0718764fb34cc/t/5cb7cabee5e5f00ab13be58b/1555548863275/Hybristophilia+White+Paper.pdf

Oarga, C., Stavrova, O., & Fetchenhauer, D. (2015). When and why is helping others good for well-being? The role of belief in reciprocity and conformity to society’s expectations. European Journal of Social Psychology, 45(2), 242–254. https://doi.org/10.1002/ejsp.2092

Parker, R. (2014). Serial killer groupies. RJ PARKER PUBLISHING, INC.

Wang, T., & Sha, H. (2018). The influence of social rejection on cognitive control. Psychology, 09(7), 1707–1719. https://doi.org/10.4236/psych.2018.97101

#reference list is completed!#yandere #sunny day jack #my dear hatchet man #mdhm #stnaf #ddlc #john doe #boyfriend to death #tpof #degrees of lewdity #your boyfriend #14dwy #br<3ken colors #camp willowpeak #br0ken colors #obey me #binary star hero #favor vn

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clairdelunetarot · 1 month ago

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★ Hello! First pac! Let's find out what your crush/person of interest has to say about you to their friends. Take a deep breath, and choose the pile that draws you in the most. This include 2 sections: are they talking about you to their friends and what are they talking about.

disclaimer: this is a general reading it will be as close as possible to your situation but it will not be accurate. take only what resonates. if you want a more accurate reading you can ask for it when I open my shop!

PILE ONE

the sun, 3 of wands rx, the chariot

Oh, your crush is definitely talking about you to their friends, but maybe not in the way you're hoping. There is mixed energy here. On one hand, they say positive things, things that make them feel happy or hopeful. Or what things attract them to you: your style, vibe, that day you wore a certain color. Maybe some memory or experience that they have with you that they treasure.

But they’re unsure about the next steps or like what to do next. It may leave them feeling a bit let down or underwhelmed, because things haven't progressed as they expected. They're hesitating, maybe overthinking things, which is holding them back from taking action and are just stuck. It’s like they’re feeling things out, thinking about past moments with you, but they’re not ready to make any big moves. They’re holding back for now, so while they’re talking about you, it’s more them trying to understand their own feelings than taking real action.

WHAT ARE THEY TALKING ABOUT TO THEIR FRIENDS?

6 of swords rx, page of swords rx, 3 of pentacles rx

Your person is talking to their friends about feeling uncertain and stuck when it comes to you. They might not know how to move things forward and could be venting about things feeling off or disconnected between you two. I am inclined to think that it is the first one. They started to see you differently and it is being reflected in what they talk about with their friends.

For some of you, they say things they find attractive about you, but maybe with some reservations. They’re likely confused or unsure how to communicate their feelings, which is why they might be saying things that are unclear or even holding back. A few of you have trouble being expressive so they think you have a huge wall and it is making them have a hard time approaching you. They’re not sure if you’re both on the same page, or if things can really work long-term.

Elements & Signs: Aquarius. A lot of air and earth elements. Your crush might be very anxious, or an overthinker. Your crush has a hard time expressing themselves emotionally or dealing with their emotions. You two might be sending each other wrong signals and creating confusion and miscommunication.

PILE TWO

ace of cups, the wheel of fortune rx, 5 of cups

They’re definitely feeling something, but they’re super confused and conflicted. They like you, but their mind is all over the place—way too much overthinking and frustration about what to do. (uhmm, messy). Instead of talking to their friends, they’re keeping it to themselves and trying to sort it out alone without making any real moves.

For a few of you, they are even sad about it.. i felt their sadness through the cards. It’s like they’re emotionally stuck, and they’re not ready to open up or share what’s going on. If they mention something they're likely weighing the pros and cons, maybe asking their friends for advice. It's not all positive - there could be some doubts or concerns they're expressing. They're probably not head-over-heels for some of you, just curious and a bit conflicted.

WHAT ARE THEY NOT TALKING ABOUT TO THEIR FRIENDS?

the chariot rx, 2 of cups rx, 7 of wands (9 of cups rx)

Your crush isn’t telling their friends that they’re super stressed and confused about the whole situation. They are meeeessy. They feel stuck, like nothing’s going anywhere, and it’s making them frustrated. They’re holding back big time, possibly pretending they don’t care as much or acting like it’s not a big deal (Oh my god lmao), when deep down they’re feeling out of sync and unsure of where things are heading.

They’re also really unhappy with how things are right now, but they’re putting up walls, trying to protect themselves. It’s like they’re battling internally between wanting to fight for this and feeling like it’s not worth the effort (this might be the sad energy i was getting). They’re not seeing the results they want and are worried they’re wasting their time, but they’re not saying any of this out loud.

For a few of you: If they're really into you, they might downplay it to their friends. They're not likely to admit if they're feeling vulnerable or scared of getting hurt.

Elements & Signs: A lot of emotional blockage from this person. Water energy through the roof! There’s a lot of overthinking and frustration with this person. Your crush is very reserved and wants to act like they are not affected at all (side eye). For a few of you: Your crush is feeling really sensitive about you and is not a very emotionally stable person.

PILE THREE

2 of wands, 3 of cups rx, 3 of swords rx

Your crush isn’t talking about you to their friends. For some of you they are. But they are mentioning you casually, not making a huge deal out of it just yet (they are being mature about this). They’re thinking about it but are keeping things close to the chest, overanalyzing everything (geez). They’re not comfortable being open right now and are holding back, trying to stay in control of their emotions. They might have some unresolved feelings or past hurt they’re still dealing with, which is making them hesitate. For a few of you: they might be asking for opinions or subtle advice without revealing too much.

Instead of sharing or opening up about the situation, they’re keeping their distance and focusing on keeping all calm and collected. You know, not letting this agitate them too much bc they are not a child. Deep down, they’re not satisfied with how things are going emotionally, but they’re choosing to stay quiet rather than talk about it with friends. They’re just not ready to be vulnerable or let anyone in on what they’re feeling yet. For a few of you (how cute): they are hoping for a stable and happy relationship.

WHAT ARE THEY NOT TALKING ABOUT TO THEIR FRIENDS?

queen of wands (the lovers), 4 of wands, knight of wands

Your crush isn’t talking to their friends about just how drawn they are to you. They feel a strong attraction and connection (i pulled the queen of wands and the lovers, like, phew) but are keeping it all to themselves (boo!). They’re confused about what they want and are juggling their feelings, trying to figure out if they should make a move or just sit back and play it safe.

Why are they playing it safe? They’re worried about getting rejected or not having a solid foundation if they go for it, which is why they’re hesitant to share anything. They’ve got this mix of passion and doubt, but instead of being open, they’re keeping it all inside and trying to sort it out on their own.

Elements: Aries/Leo. Your crush is giving me fire sign energy! Or this might be just them feeling passionate about you. Or both lmao. I sense earth energy too. They are emotionally complex. Another overthinker, but i think they might just be rational about it. They struggle with vulnerability but are not as immature and out of it as pile 2 (not so sorry for the drag lmao). Again, they still struggle with emotional vulnerability.

#pick a pile #pick a card #tarot #tarot reading #pick a card reading #pac reading #tarotblr #free readings #free tarot reading #tarot community #tarot love reading #pick an image #tarot blog #⠀ ⠀ ╱ ⠀ ⠀ pac readings

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echantedtoon · 6 months ago

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YANDERE DEMONS AND BRIDES

Been thinking about this for a while now and I don't know if it counts as yandere but it is how the demons take a bride (or husband for the lady demons unless you also want to imagine that it's a lady.)Yeah. I know old trope but I really like this trope and I wanted to make headcannons for the Upper Moons. I think they'd all have a certain main element fueling that desire for their specific Bride(or Groom for the ladies).

When it comes to the lady demons like Nakime I'll leave Y/n's gender up in the air for anyone to interpret if the ladies also get a wife or if you prefer them to get a husband.

Warnings for yandere-ish (???) themes, kidnapping mentions, possibly death mentioned, mentioned wounds and scars, mentioned illness, mentioned bad vision, etc.

If any of these warnings upset you pls don't read. I will be including Daki/Ume in the line up as part of Gyutaro's part but she will be strictly PLATONIC yandere!! Absolutely NO romance between her and reader!! And her parts will be minor.

KOKUSHIBO:

HARBORMENT

-You have to be a very specific kind of person to attract this man's attention. I think it'd most likely be one of two things that guarantee his bold interest. 1. you are a reincarnation of his wife or 2. you remind him of someone he used to love long ago but never could have especially if you were close to/was with Yoriichi. But whatever the case he finds himself taken by your familiar being.

-He doesn't even know why he bothers with it. But he can't help but watch you from afar. The old feelings resurfacing. He tells himself that it doesn't matter anymore. Most likely you wouldn't remember him even if you were a past lover, and even if you did you'd most likely believe him dead by now or want nothing to do with him.

-He is perfectly content with just watching you live out your life. He's learnt so much about you through just secretly watching. He learns your favorite tea, you love long walks at morning, you work just around the corner at a tailor shop.

-He's content until it no longer becomes enough. He starts to wonder. Do you still smile the way you used to? Do you still wear the same sweet perfume you did back then? He walks into your work one day in disguise. You weren't there being so late, but he ends up buying a Jacket you personally tailored.

-Muzan definitely knows about you. He knew the exact moment Kokushibo saw you. He just doesn't care and sorta lets Kokushibo get away with it being his most loyal demon. He doesn't allow his obsession to interfere with his missions and in turn Muzan is idgaf.

-He is a very traditional man and believes in courting a woman before marriage. In his mind you both are still married/together, he just needs to make you aware of it again. So he starts leaving small gifts for you when you're not around.

-At first you're confused but you think it's just a harmlessly sweet gesture from a secret crush. A few flowers on your doorstep every other night, maybe a small gift of a necklace or hair pin, however your quickly get freaked out when the gifts get TOO personal.

-You came to work one day and was freaked out when your boss handed you a decorative vase an 'admirer' left you for you after he overheard you mentioning it. (You only ever mentioned it once to you boss in private with no one else around.) Your boss is also slightly confused since they also hadn't mentioned that to anyone.

-You freak out more than ever when you come home and find a pair of wedding rings and a shiromuku(wedding kimono) laid out perfectly on your bed.

-Kokushibo sees nothing wrong with his behavior. As in his mind you both are still together, you are still his woman, and he's going to reclaim what is his own. This is just letting you know what he expects. He can't comprehend you'd be against this.

-He's not allowing you to go, especially after he lost you last time to his brother's affections. Whether these affections were platonic friendship or romantic lovers is up to you, but his internalized inferiority, jealousy, obsession, and greed won't allow him to let you go.

-You shriek when you first see him reveal himself. He doesn't understand why you're reacting like this. Don't you recognize your husband? You can't get away. He's holding you to him in an embrace as you freak out.

"Death may have stolen you from me..but I will deny the reaper of his claim to you once again."

DOUMA:

EMOTIONS

-Again you have to be very specific for these men to even consider taking you as a bride. For Douma, it'd be because of the way you make him actually feel things.

-However this ends up happening or when it does is entirely a thing all of its own but for the sake of not making this a mountain of a post, we'll leave that part up to whatever you interpret for now.

-The problem is that he has legit NO idea of what he's even feeling. He's never felt adoration, anger, happiness, etc so how is he supposed to know what this fluttery strange feeling in his chest is?

-So for a long while even he's not aware of his growing obsession with you. He just knows these feelings are not bad. He knows these feelings are coming from you. So somehow he deduced that you are the problem for his new predicaments.

-For this reason he has you looked over by the cults resident healer in case you're using some kind of sickness or chemistry stuff on him. Gets more confused when you are perfectly fine. Nevermind that demons couldn't get sick.

-You become weirded out by how clingy and stalkerish he's suddenly become overnight. He's not even aware he's doing it and if he is he doesn't care really. He just knows you're the cause of the fuzzy warmth in his chest and he's starting to like it.

-The only chance for you to escape is now while he's still confused on what he's feeling. Afterwards it's too late.

-EVERYONE notices his behavior and there's a mixed reaction to it all. Some congratulate you which you're so confused on and some express their happiness to their founder. Douma is just even more confused at it all. Eventually someone notices his confusion and asks him about it, then proceeds to explain what's he's feeling because he's not so sure himself.

-This revolution is mind blowing to him. He's literally the shocked Pikachu meme.

-In his mind as he thinks about it, technically he's been already courting you for nearly a year now. Showering you in affection and gifts and treating you like the goddess you were. So the next logical step would be marriage and that thought actually has him giddy at the thought of you in a shiromuku.

-You've been giving him subtle hints that you're uncomfortable the entire time but he either flat out ignores it or it just flies over his head.

-He randomly wakes you up in the middle of the night and asks if you're not busy the next day.

You blink at the shadowy creepily happy smiling figure too tired to comprehend the gravity of the situation. "I think?"

"Alright." He's silent for a moment. "I made us an appointment with a local priest."

You mumble a nothing response, still on the brink of sleep.

"Just remember to take the day off," he presses. "Hello? Are you there?"

"Uh huh." Your eyes won't even stay open.

"It's settled then. We'll get married tomorrow." He claps happily as he makes his leave. "Go back to sleep now, Lotus blossom."

He leaves and you breathe a sigh of relief as you snuggle into your bed again-

You jolt up. Did he say married?

AKAZA:

FAMILIARITY

-Akaza has never, has not, and never will harm a woman. He himself is unsure of his past where this stems from but he feels a familiarity to something deep but distant when he first meets you.

-You either are dealing with a similar illness Koyuki experienced, or you're a demon slayer whom had to retire due to injuries. Let's go with the second option for this one.

-Akaza had randomly heard recently that a demon slayer had to retire and was currently in the area he was in. He's always looking for a good fight so it's not a no brainer he'd seek you out. What he doesn't know was that this particular retired slayer was a woman. He doesn't realize this even when he first sees you until you horrified and scared seeing a demon in your home confirms that you are indeed the person he's looking for.

-Akaza is shocked. Not at the fact that there's a lady slayer (he's seen plenty of strong lady slayers) but at how you look. He's never seen a woman covered in so many wounds and scars even amongst other slayers. He's so stunned he asks you about it. You're more confused on why he doesn't outright end you, but you answer his question to avoid provoking him. An entire gang of demons has ganged up on you and if it weren't for a Haishira you'd be dead. However your current state left you unable to continue.

-He's angry. About a lot of things. How dare those lowlifes! HE'S obviously not gonna be getting a fight here. There's no way to release this anger- You're stunned as the angry demon just leaves without another word, but he takes it out on some rocks some miles away.

-Akaza ends up swinging by much to your growing horror and worry. He never comes close or makes threatening actions towards you, but you've seen him multiple times staring into your window or you'd see him in the distance barely visible through the darkness. It always freaks you out.

-Akaza doesn't mean to scare you, he just can't help but be curious about you. He finds himself thinking about you and your poor condition a lot. For some reason it pangs his heart seeing you limp about knowing it's permanent to your walking pattern or get angry when he sees people stare at you funny. He even ended a man who insulted your beauty by calling your battle scars unattractive not that you had any idea. He just..feels an odd need to give you care. It feels so... familiar. Second nature.

-He's just so entranced by you. Your smile, your gently nature, your kindness- Despite your losses and bad treatment you still treat everyone so gently. It makes his heart race with something so familiar yet so foreign.

-Reality shatters for him when he hears of your arranged marriage. After returning you had to move back with family who were all horrified to your condition. Their logic was that you needed to get married like a sensible woman and you should be grateful someone was willing to put up with you as a wife.

-In Akaza's view no one would ever treat you like you deserved. He knew he could care for you like he did for-... Someone that makes his head fog. HE CAN'T LET HIM TAINT HER SMILE. If you needed a husband to provide for you then he's happy to step in. Don't be surprised when you wake up to him carrying you out the window.

"Anything that is gold is often buried beneath where everyone's minds skim over without a second thought. You won't have your gold tainted to rust by another."

GYUTARO(+PLATONIC UME/DAKI):

EQUALITY

-Let's be fair. Gyutaro (and Ume/Daki) were never treated as an equal. He was always treated like a piece of garbage (and Ume a pretty doll) so he's gotten used to the fact that he's just destined for that.

-So he's surprised when his sister just starts yapping about another girl in her workplace. It's not out of the ordinary for her to talk about other girls mostly complaining about them or demanding he do something about it. But he's surprised that she's not complaining but gushing about how she made a friend....What?

-Gyutaro.wav is confused af

-She proceeds to proudly gush to her brother about how this girl 'actually knows her place' and 'knows how beautiful Daki is without even needing to know her.'

-Gyutaro.exe is VERY confused af

-She notices his blank stare and scoffs in annoyance. "She's visually impaired you dolt! Honestly it wouldn't be much of a difference if she was actually blind." Oh. Well now he's less confused. Turns out you're new to the house Daki is currently working in and she had originally planned on eating you outta jealousy, however changed her mind when you complimented her voice.

-Daki.wav is now confused. She was used to being complimented on everything from her beauty to her hair to her walking even but her voice? It was then she learnt you weren't blind but you might as well be with how bad your vision actually was seeing everything in colorful blurs. This confuses her. Confused her enough to spare you that night and instead you both just sorta awkwardly talked casually. You politely asked her what it was like to be a famous oiran and if she had any tips for make up as you couldn't see well enough to tell if yours was good.

-You had spoken to her without fear, or condensending, or even any flat out adoration. It was just as if she was another person on the street and not a cannibalistic monster. Honestly it was ..nice. Hella confusing but actually nice for once being treated like another. She decides she will not eat you. After all it wouldn't harm anyone if you couldn't see the red flags in front of you, and you believe her anyways when she said she's beautiful.

-She decides you are her default friend and you now listen to all her problems and tantrums whenever she wants. You gently listen awkwardly sometimes with a frown after you hear she had punished another worker. However there's very little people here nice to you and her reputation alone has kept troublemakers away from you so you decide her friendship is worth more than the cons of not having it.

-She's very territorial over her one friendship. Almost toxically so. If you want something you had BETTER get it within the day or there's hell to pay! If there's a customer you don't particularly like he had BETTER find another girl. No is not an option. Even the house master is scared of her so all complies.

-Gyutaro has legit no idea of what to think of this but his logic is whatever his precious baby sister wants she gets so if you make her happy being her friend then he'll leave you alone and leave her too it. He hasn't met you yet tho. Most of the time he's either out hunting or asleep dormant in Daki's body. Sometimes he heard you two talking but tuned it out as it was mostly boring or his sister complaining to you again. You two completely meet by accident.

-One day he came back from hunting, the two had to split as it'd look suspicious if she suddenly disappeared, so as usual he went to go clean up the mess. The two were just talking when the door suddenly opens and they both freeze as you stand there smiling. Turns out you had just come to say good night to Daki and didn't even see the demon in front of you. However you are barely able to make out a second blurry figure in the darkness. It prompts you to apologize for interrupting her and her customer to which both relax from their tense posture remembering you couldn't actually tell there was a six foot something demon in front of you.

-Daki is prompted to scoff and explain that it wasn't a customer but her brother visiting. In turn Gyutaro is stunned as you genuinely smile his way and greet him like he was another friend. It quickly becomes awkward as he just stares. His brain can't compute a girl(a pretty girl at that) was smiling and talking to him normally. He answers in grunts and quickly leaves the awkward scene.

-Is later shocked weeks later when his sister informs him that you sometimes ask her how her brother is doing. He's not used to having anyone think of him so nicely even as a second thought. The way he reacts gives Daki the idea of making her brother come out to again meet you. (She forces him out and doesn't let him merge until he meets you again.) He's shocked at how you still genuinely are kind to him offering him tea and asking if he'd like to hear you play the shamisen.

-Man becomes fastly smitten by you. With so much touch starvation and affection denial he has it was inevitable. You suspect he might like you by the stutters of his floundering voice but out of respect to your friend you remain casual and never bring it up to either of them when they visit you.

-You've got two demons utterly obsessed with you for both two different reasons. Daki is unwilling to lose her only friend. In her mind NO ONE is allowed to be friends with you! She's the best! So she's your best and only friend! She's very possessive over things she sees as hers and you're no exception. She even was jealous of Gyutaro's affections for you at first but quickly realized it would be easier to share her big brother with you. They share practically everything else anyways. She still gets annoyed when he takes your attention for too long tho. You were her friend first!

-Gyutaro is obsessed with the way you treat him. The way you don't back away from him when he gets close. The way you smile at him. The way you don't treat him like the scum of the earth. He's a very possessive man, even more than his sister. Any visiting customers you have are never seen again. Any present or past he finds out about are quickly taken as his dinner for daring to touch what's his.

-If he doesn't get them then Daki will. She eliminates any threat within the house. Any servant who stares at you with disdain or someone who gets too friendly is swiftly delt with.

-You're hella confused when the house master says he is cursed with many runaway workers.

-Both absolutely FREAK when they return to the house and You're not there anymore. Daki realizes this first when she goes to see you and finds you GONE! All of your belongings are gone and your room is empty. Practically tears the house apart looking for you and calling your name. Her panic wakes up her brother concerned she's in danger but also freaks out when she informs him you're GONE! She goes to the house master after not finding you anywhere else and DEMANDS they tell her where you are with murder in her eyes.

-Turns out a man had bought your marriage contract after watching a show of yours playing the shamisen and singing. You were relieved to be leaving and had left with him after waiting for an hour to say goodbye but your friend never showed up.

-Both are HORRIFIED and ENRAGED!

-Daki ends the house master in a rage as her brother appears. It's not too hard to find you being lead by your soon-to-be husband leading you towards the train station. Had they been ten minutes late then you would've been completely out of the E-District.

-Instead you're quickly absorbed into Daki's belt as her brother violently rips the man apart in a blind rage. You aren't going to leave your best friend behind and he wasn't going to let another man have your hand.

"I'm your friend! Don't you get that?!"

"I'll cut down anyone who tries to hurt my precious sister or take you from me. You're mine."

KAIGAKU:

GREED

-This man and Kokushibo are similar. Both have inferiority issues against younger brothers(Ik technically Zenitsu n him aren't brothers but bare with me) being better than them in swordsmanship one way or another. With Yoriichi and Kokushibo it was more complicated. Between Kaigaku and Zenitsu it was that ONE Thunder Breathing technique he never conquered.

-His inferiority and greed has caused him to make so many bad decisions (if you've read the manga or read his wiki then you know what I mean). He's not one to want to be out done even if he has to resort to underhanded tactics.

-You both met when he was still human and training under Master Jigoro. You were a simple healer often just helping patch him and Zenitsu up after training. He's annoyed and often doesn't give you a second thought that is until Zenitsu starts running his mouth obviously. He asks you to marry him ten minutes after you both just met.

-Kaigaku has known you for a few years longer than Zenitsu because he's older and came to train here before Zenitsu but you both have never been close before. He's short with you when you talk otherwise he's usually quiet. You talk to him anyways even if he never answers back. You're used to it.

-He hates how you just patiently laugh off any and all attempts Zenitsu makes to you. Why are you tolerating that idiot?!(Nevermind you also tolerate him and his stupid attitude.) He gets jealous of your interactions and how Zenitsu is just finding over you before he meets Nezuko. He barely sees you after his final selection and becoming a slayer but his furious mind boils over at the thought of you spending more time ALONE with Zenitsu before he too goes to his Final selection.

-With both Zenitsu and Kaigaku gone, and Jigoro insisting he can take care of himself, you're reassigned to a different residence where multiple slayers pass through. Ironically it's where Kaigaku is. All good and bad feelings punch him at once seeing your smiling face again as you stitch up his most recent wound.

-He likes you so much and how you treat him, but he's internally enraged when you share that kindness with anyone outside of him. Hearing you speaking to him about Zenitsu and your other patients only enrages that boiling point. However it only reaches that point when you inform the ever silent man about your own slayer fiance you met through your patients.

-You're sad when one day Kaigaku stops showing up for a long while. News of his betrayal and Jigoro's death really hadn't reached a lot of people with all the Haishira and slayers training for the final fight in the Infinity Castle. Your slayer fiance included.

-You do however receive news of your fiance's mysterious gruesome death at the hands of a demon. You're more heartbroken when you also hear of Jigoro's death. Devastated and crying your heart out over your loss. However those sobs turn to screams when you're face to face with blackened eyes of death as a sinister smile.

"What are you crying for? It's his own fault."

NAKIME:

SHARED INTEREST

-(Ok. Bare with me. Ive never written for her before and even researching her backstory this is probably not going to be very long and ooc. Take as platonic or romantic.) Let me start by saying that she does not get out much. Like at all. So you two really don't meet face to face.

-She discovers you by accident when she opened a door in a busy street and happened to see you sitting on the side of the road also playing a biwa for money.

-She hasn't seen another fellow biwa player for a while and decided to keep the doorway open for a while to listen.

-You are not very good with the biwa. Your playing isn't bad it's just not the best. Nakime knows this but considering she's never met another person or heard another instrument for a long time she can't help but get interested. Learns quickly that you are a lot better playing the shamisen than the biwa and always opens a small window or doorway on nights she knows you're gonna be sitting on your corner playing.

-She starts to think about teaching you how to play the biwa and doing a duet as you play your shamisen next to her biwa. Starts to really like the idea of permanently having your company in the castle.

-She doesn't really abduct you until after a show a drunk patron steals your instrument and smashes it on the ground laughing at your crying face.

-A loud strum of a biwa is heard as both you AND the drunk man is teleported. You're shocked to suddenly find yourself on a platform with a woman sitting right across from you. The drunk man was also teleported. She teleported him to where she knew a gang of newly turned hungry demons were.

"Apologies for the sudden introductions however it seems you need a change of residence."

GYOKKO:

CREATIVITY

-(I don't like him too much but ik there's a lot of people who do and can't find content for him same as those who like Nakime so I'll include him too for all you Gyokko fans.) Mans is a baby. Very sensitive to his projects being insulted even if they deserve to be called that, most either are 'too dumb to notice his great skills' or always insult him. When in reality his art is so gruesome that people can't help but he horrified by it or insult him. The only one who seems to get him is Douma which is why he gifted him the pot but they aren't really friends.

-He meets you by complete accident. He was out too late and ended up deciding to hide in a pottery worker's shop. He likes to sneak around and spy on other artists anyways. His pot was sun proof and all he had to do was duck inside and wait until night again. However he wasn't counting on being bought.

-You had come in looking for a new vase to decorate your table after your old one accidentally broke. You happened to spot Gyokko's and completely fell in love with how pretty it was! The purest white you've ever seen with beautifully perfectly painted flowers and leafy vines. The pottery worker doesn't even remember making this piece but a paying customer was a paying customer so he sold you Gyokko's vase.

-Gyokko is absolutely offended by the pottery worker claiming his vase as his own and plans to end him later...But he also is very intrigued by the bold compliments you gave so he decides not to end you yet.

-When night comes he sneaks out to find quite a sight. Turns out you are also an artist sorta. You make custom jewelry and clothing for people, and baskets on the side. He's intrigued and extends his body around to look closely at all of the fabrics laid about, and written patterns, and little pieces of jewels ready to be put together for a simple but pretty piece to wear.

-He ends up going from the back of your shop to the front finding a lot of finished pieces of yours displayed and ready for sale. He's very intrigued by the kimonos. All of the patterns are individually sewn on. Cherry blossoms, storks, flowers- All are sewn on thread after thread by hand. It's like a canvas but made of fabric with thread as the paint. He's seen a LOT of kimonos but the attention to detail and precision to the likeness of the real thing was truly remarkable. For a woman.

-He decides since you really hadn't been a nuisance and complimented his work then he'll not end you for taking his pot. Instead of taking his pot with him, he leaves it and teleports to a different pot that way he can still sneak into your home without a problem.

-This goes on for two years. He'll pop in every so while when you sleep and look around for an hour or two before leaving. There was always different dresses displayed with different beautiful scenes sewed into them or he'd see one you were working on on your workshop bench. The needle paused in sewing the stripes of a tiger or the veins of a leaf.

-One day he comes back but hides in the pot because you're working late and tending to a customer who needed a dress for a ceremony. As you both talk the customer compliments 'your pot' and asks why you never put flowers in it. You answer- "I don't want to damage it by filling it with water or having rose thorns scratch it's inside. Besides it's beautiful enough by itself."

-As if this man didn't have enough of a big ego- This happens around the start of the second year and he ends up fond of this fellow artist. He gets the idea of gifting you another case to gage your reaction. This time you find a deep blue pot with waves painted onto it. You're unsure of where it came from but you might up moving it by the first vase mumbling to yourself about how pretty it was! Man's ego skyrockets.

-You are confused when you thank your friends for the pretty gifts only to be told they didn't make any of the ones you have. You get more confused when you start finding pots left on your doorstep two or three times a month. You never see who leaves them but you're so taken by how each one is so pretty that you never complain. Just assuming it was a secret admirer. Gyokko's ego boosts higher when he sees you had gotten two big shelves and placed them up to be displayed. He loves seeing you light up when you look at them excited for when the next one arrives.

-You're happiness seems to be improving your work too as Gyokko ends up find you making full on landscapes on your dresses. He notices you've suddenly become happier and giddier lately and blushing even but he doesn't think it's anything other than your adoration for his craft.

-Confused when one day he finds no new dresses being made except for an absolutely beautiful shiromuku in the process of being made. He assumes you've been paid to make a bride her ceremonial dress. He has absolutely no idea of the real reason behind this behavior until he comes back earlier one night and is shocked to find YOU wearing the dress to try it out as another friend of yours does your makeup testing out what colors would look best with you in the dress.

-Seeing you in your own homemade bridal piece and your face dolled up is like he's looking upon living artwork. He's in awe as you both giddily talk about your wedding-..Wait. Wot? You're telling your friend all about how the pottery maker you had originally bought your first vase from had fallen for you and came forward to be your secret admirer leaving all of the vases as gifts.

W H A T?!

-Gyokko is ENRAGED!! How dare that lowlife claim his precious skills as his own!? More so how dare he use it to trick this beloved artist into letting him marry you?! He was claiming all his hard work!! He's becomes more enraged when you mentioned that your fiance wanted you to retire from your craft and be a stay at home wife after you marry. A mantra of "Oh over his dead body" is repeated over in his head as he temporarily disappears to take care of a problem.

-Soon after your friend leaves you're smiling at yourself in a mirror only to freeze in horror and shriek out as something monstrous comes clawing out of the first ever face you've ever gotten. People are horrified and shocked when they find your fiance dead and you no where to be found.

"Art is a beauty in of itself. However there are few people who can truly appreciate you as such."

Hoo boy that was a lot. I'm gonna do a part 2 with Hantengu since that guy needs to be tackled along with clones on his own post and a part 3 with the lower moons. Hope you all enjoyed this.

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perfctvelvet · 2 months ago

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Dominant Billie Eilish? 🙏 pretty please

The Games We Play; Billie Eilish/Fem!Reader

Content: 2nd POV. Established relationship, semi-toxic relationship, brief mentions of gaslight, implied infidelity, D/s elements, name calling ('slut'), degradation, teasing, strap-on sex, mentions of ass play, use of sex toys (vibrator).

"I've had enough of the games now, Y/n. You're starting to annoy me."

It was ironic to watch Billie sit at the table and sulk to herself as if she didn't get herself into this situation. These games that she claims to hate oh so much where the ones that she started and wanted to finish once she wasn't getting her way. You have just been with her for way too long not to be able to see her through and through. Billie hated the bitter taste of her own medicine, but she should've thought about that before she brushed you off when you asked about who that was on that instagram post.

You made her watch you flirt with a past fling all night. You could barely remember the lady's name when you two first bumped into her, but quickly she became valuable to you. All you had asked for was honesty about a post that was posted to tens of millions of people, but instead you were shut out. Billie brought this on herself, and it felt good to see her sitting there feeling sorry for you.

"Ooh, tell me more about your trip to Greece! I've been waiting to go, but sometimes it's hard when others won't cooperate with their schedules."

Billie was within earshot of the entire conversation and you didn't spare her one bit. You left her emotionally beaten and bruised every time you laid a hand on the body of someone you came close to being with years ago. Your attraction had faded greatly as you only had eyes for your girlfriend now, but Billie doesn't know that and at this moment anyone would think that the relationship was on its last legs. But just like you know Billie, she knows you too well for her own good. You were trying to make her feel the same way you did over an instagram post. Well, you had one the battle as your attempts to make Billie jealous was working, but Billie was well intentioned on winning the war.

Now as she confronts you about the only thing you can do is play dumb. You weren't going to give her the upper hand by outright admitting what you were doing. The way she dismissed you about posting photos of another girl damn near straddling her kept you up for days. Those 3 to 4 hours of sleep left you irritable and willing to do anything to get your point across. So in your eyes, you're not doing anything worse your girlfriend hasn't done.

"What are you talking about?" You asked her, cocking your head to the side and feigning innocence.

Normally your pout was endearing but right now Billie wanted to fuck it off your face. Still surrounded by strangers who could possibly hear your conversation, Billie gives a deep sigh and she hangs her head down. It was a sign of utter defeat to you.

"Y/n," she sighs before leaning in and whispering, "You really want to do this right now?"

Those simple words were a warning shot. Billie didn't have to say much else. She didn't have to explain that she knows you after being together for two years. She didn't have to explain that they've done this song and dance before and that it's getting stale. Both are committed and faithful to this relationship, but sometimes things get hazy and the relationship is tested. Billie knows she's in the wrong, but getting those words to come out of her mouth is like pulling teeth. You two should be passed this stage, especially as you get older together, but clearly both of you are wrong. When one of you acts up, the other feels like they have no choice but to retaliate and somehow you're always the one always having to retaliate.

You don't want to hear it from her. You don't want to sit in the car on the way home and hear her give you some holier-than-thou speech as if she's the mature one in the relationship. It was easier to talk to you like that when you were side by side and she didn't have to look you in the eyes and act like she didn't do what she did. Did it feel good to flirt with someone you're no longer interested in? No, that part didn't feel good, but being able to glance over and see Billie sulking while surrounded by happy, partying people, it was better than any high or shot of alcohol here tonight.

"What am I doing? I'm at a party that you're ruining the vibe because you want to sit there and feel sorry for yourself. Get up, go talk to your friends." You didn't have much else to say to her and she kept her mouth shut too. Billie had nothing to say. Have you succeeded?

Billie was never afraid to drag out an argument, even in a setting like this. There was the great texting fiasco of Summer 2023 that ended with you staying at your friend's place for the weekend. So she was uncharacteristically quiet now. And in a surprising move, she just smiled at you. Your faces were so close together you thought she was going to kiss, but instead she leaned back. She grabbed her glass filled with whatever she had and brought it to her lips. Never did she pull her eyes away from you and you felt your grip on the situation loosening. You don't know what it means for you, for tonight and for the future, but you stepped away from her. You turned your back to her and joined a group of mutual friends. The former fling you were flirting with was nowhere to be found, but it didn't matter anymore.

You felt Billie's eyes burning a hole right through you for the rest of the night. Despite the room being so loud, there was a ringing in your ears that dulled the sound of everything around you. You don't know how you were able to make it through the rest of the night acting like you usual self. The end of the night and car ride home were unbearable and equally silent. Billie's steady breathing was the only sound to fill your ears; so calm yet just as loud as the club's bass in your ears. The little battle you had earlier? It meant nothing now. Whatever victory you felt was replaced by the dread of worrying what was to come next. You expected a screaming match to take place as soon as the two of you crossed past that threshold into Billie's house. Instead Billie decided to do something she hasn't tried before. She was going to fuck the problem away.

Billie was pissed. The way she grabbed you, you don't think you've seen her so mad before. The two of you are no strangers to things getting a little rough, but there was so much more raw and animalistic about the way she touched you, the way she kissed you. Billie was gunning to win the war and she was going to disarm you in the best way she knew how. You don't understand how pissed she was seeing your flirt with an old fling like that, and what annoyed her the most is that you looked to actually be having a good time. She saw how you looked at this woman who has no name to her. You looked at her as if she meant something. Billie thought the photo she uploaded was to be expected from her and her friends. She thought you knew that sometimes one of them gets a little handsy but there was never any ill-intention behind it. Hell, you've seen it happen in front of your very eyes before and you didn't react. To her the difference between the post and what you did was that you intended to make the situation worse. You looked so into this woman, looking at her the same way you've looked at Billie before. Those eyes are only for her.

Billie wasn't nice or sweet tonight. She didn't tease you or suck on your tits for almost an hour like she usually loves to do. You were pushed onto the bed, face down ass up. You weren't able to see anything with your face in the covers. You had to guess what was happening based on the sounds around you. Billie was stealthy and quick, not giving you a second to adjust to what was going on. You felt something cool and wet hitting between your cheeks. You cursed yourself for not wearing underwear tonight, giving Billie easy access to both of your holes to do whatever she wanted with you. You felt something poke at your entrance and soon you were filled with 8 inches of thickness. The air was plucked right out of you as Billie pushed her strap all the way inside. She watched in awe how your arousal bursted through the seams. She pulled out and your juices had already completely covered her strap.

Billie pushes back into you after a few seconds. She started at a slow pace before gradually picking up speed, fucking you harder and faster. The residual anger from your little stunt tonight was fuleing her. When a girl acts up, sometimes she needs to be put in her place.

"You wanna tell me who that was tonight? Who was that girl, Y/n!"

You feel her grab a handful of your hair and she pulls your face out the bed. Her grip was tight enough to feel a prickly sensation on the edge of your scalp. You pulled your head back further to alleviate the pain. The question she asked you had completely slipped your mind as she filled your poor pussy with every inch of her strap. Billie didn't take so kindly to being ignored, so she asked you again. You could barely speak, but you tried your best.

"W-What girl?" You stutter through each thrust.

"Still playing dumb, huh?"

There was a tinge of playfulness in Billie's voice that could've you if you weren't getting fucked so hard. You were still trying to play the game she was built to beat you at. However, that girl doesn't matter to you and certainly she's irrelevant now. Your skin was flushed and sweaty. The sound of Billie's thighs meeting your ass reverberates in the room. How could you be thinking about some other woman when you're getting fucked within an inch of your life.

"If you wanted to be fucked like this baby all you had to do was laugh. You don't have to fight for my attention when you have it 24/7 sweetheart," Billie teased you with such a clear voice that amazed you she was able to concentrate on making you feel so small and fucking you skillfully. "You knew exactly what you were doing tonight, but you won't want to try that again after I'm done fucking this little pussy of yours."

Her words began to sound fuzzy as the tip of her strap kept agitating your sweet spot. You could barely keep yourself up, your arms giving away. The only thing keeping you up right now was Billie's tight grip on your hair. You were about to cum; dangerously close. All the tell-tale signs of your orgasm began firing off and that just happen to be the moment when Billie decided to pull out of you. You could whine and cry all you want, but Billie still pushed you off her strap. Your orgasm, the one you so desperately wanted, shuttered away as you sobbed into the sheets. You were surely a sight to take in. The strap rests against your ass, smearing your juices into your skin.

"Did you really think I was going to let you cum so fast? You really think you deserve that princess?"

Leave it to Billie to not give in so easily -- you should've seen this coming. You push yourself up on your palms until you're pushed back down onto the bed. Billie didn't have to use much force either which made her laugh at you. You were so weak and you hadn't even cum yet.

"Pick a number, baby."

You thought you were hearing her wrong. Did she just ask you to pick a fucking number?

"Pick a number. 1-3."

It was stupid to indulge in whatever game she was playing, but you lifted your head and opened your mouth to utter, "2." You don't know why you even answered.

"Hmm," Billie hums. It's hard to read such a small reaction.

The sound of the drawer opening happens again. You don't have to see to know she's grabbing from the bottom "special" drawer, where she got the strap-on from. There were a few other toys in there and you suspect that's where the game comes in at.

"It's too bad you didn't pick 1, but I guess you spared your little ass tonight."

You were just spread out so perfectly for the buttplug she hasn't used on you yet. Billie would've been able to see her reflection in the shiny metal as it slipped into your tightest hole. Stretching your ass out while fucking you would've ruined you, you haven't tried that out yet. She imagines that you would've been begging her for forgiveness and permission to cum. Even seeing it in her active imagination makes her heart skip a beat. But, fate has decided for her and she's going to make the most of it.

The wand you unintentionally picked had only been used about two or three times. It's vibrations were so strong, something you felt like you had to get use to. Only on it's lowest setting were you able to handle it. Something powered only by batteries yet it was so powerful you were seeing stars the first time you used it.

"Get up."

Billie gave you the command but then she was moving your body herself. She laid on the bed and signaled for you to get on top of her. You go to straddle her before she stops you.

"Uh-uh. Turn the other way."

She made you turn away from and in the direction of a mirror. For the first time since going out tonight, you got a glimpse of yourself. Your hair looked a mess and your makeup had smudged a lot. Spit was drying in the corner of your mouth. You should've been ashamed about how you look and how Billie was slutting you out, but it made your pussy drip on Billie's skin. One, two, three she felt the drops of your arousal on her bare skin. She groaned, showing a moment of weakness for a second. Right then she knew she had to get you on her strap. She lowered you down with one hand. Somehow her strap felt so much bigger when you were sinking down on it this way. The way the girth stretched out just felt different when you were any other position. Billie doesn't fuck you in reverse cowgirl often so you were willing to underestimate her ability to fuck you as hard as you need like this, but quickly you were proven wrong.

Your skin slapped together harder and your tits bounce with every thrust up into your swollen twat. You thought it was a lot to handle until you felt the vibrations from the wand against your pussy. The slew of moans that fell from your lips were louder than before.

"Good girl! Keep moaning for me baby, show me just how much you love being fucked like this. Only I can fuck you like this."

Words like this were meant to only affect you, to drive home the point that you were a slut for Billie and Billie only, but somehow she fueled her own desire. She was fucking up into you with reckless abandon. You were so close to losing your mind from being fucked like that from below while the vibrator was placed firmly against your swollen clit. You had no choice but to endure it as your eyes rolled in the back of your head.

"Whose pussy's this? Who does this pussy belong to, girl," the way she addressed you and the stinging grip on your hip made you spiral. Billie has flirted with degrading you more and more in bed, but tonight she spoke as if this came natural to her. She questioned as if something would happen if you didn't answer her. The worst thing she, or anyone else, could do to you at this moment is deny you of another sweet release. It's a miracle you're not squirting all over her strap that bullying its way into you. The head of her strap hits your cervix so deliciously. She questions you as if you're capable of speaking right now when the vibrator is sending you into orbit. You've officially been rendered stupid and unable to form words.

It takes a solid minute and everything inside of you to be able to muster up the energy to be able to answer you.

"Yours! Oh god it's yours!" You force out with a desperate cry. Your body is beginning to hunch over in weakness as she continues to pound you. You've never felt so pathetic in your life, unable to stand your ground, but never did failure feel so good. The stretch and the buzz was addicting and you were ready to let go of everything that's been pent up inside of your body.

The way you answer satisfies Billie, finally. The sobs of your pure devotion made relief wash over her. She's happy.

She doesn't stop her pounding until you're cumming and crying out loudly for her. Your toes curl as you come the hardest you have in a long, long time. Billie's grip on you was still harsh, painful even, causing the pain to mix with your everlasting pleasure. This is what might be the longest orgasm of your life and it comes after another stalemate in your relationship.

It was almost impossible to be able to come back to reality. You didn't even notice the vibrator had been turned off and discarded onto the bed until Billie stopped pumping into you completely. Satisfaction stirred deep in your hips as you sat there with her strap situated inside of you. Billie was holding you up with both hands now as if you would fall apart into a million pieces if she let go. And let go she never did.

Your heavy limbs find relief when you're laid against the bed. It feels like you're floating on a cloud compared to how it felt before. You were in a state of disbelief, asking yourself, 'did that shit really happen?'

You weren't going to regain your composure after that, and you weren't going to even try. Billie is already up and moving around, disappearing for a few minutes before she comes back with a wet towel waiting to clean you up. She pushes your legs apart and gently rubs the warm towel against your sensitive skin.

"I think you left a present over there."

She nods her head in the direction of the wet spot on the bed. Did you squirt? You don't even have a fucking clue if you did or not but you hide your face in your hands anyway.

"Oh god," you groan.

"We can always sleep in the other room."

"I don't think I can move, Bil."

You had a million and one questions, but you were utterly worn out and Billie's face was flushed pink from all the work she put in. You two have more to answer for in the morning, and a need to explain why you both acted up so much. Seeing you so vulnerable made the words 'I'm sorry, I was wrong' want to bubble up in Billie's throat. Instead she kisses the two sweet thighs she loves so much. The nonverbal apology will always come before remorseful words out of Billie's lips. Holding you until you fall asleep will stand in just for the night.

#billie eilish x reader #billie eilish/reader #billie eilish smut #f/f #f/f smut #f/f fanfic #smut #blurb #lesbian fanfic #lesbian smut #celeb smut

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httpkaulitz · 4 months ago

Text

playing with fire

PAIRINGS: Gangster!Tom x Female reader

CONTENT: Smutt

SYNOPSIS: You're obsessed with Tom and there's nothing you wouldn't do to get his attention.

WARNINGS: dom!tom, sub!reader, mention of drugs drinking and guns, violence, pyromania, p in v, oral (m reciving), public sex.

You went to the bar that night with one thing on your mind. You were already floating after using some good shit you bought a few nights before - the same thing you used to seduce him into going to the bathroom with you, the same thing you slapped your tits and shoved in Tom's face before he fuck you quick and dirty against the sink. You were drunk, but not as drunk as him. He almost immediately regretted it, but you didn't. You've wanted Tom Kaulitz balls deep inside you for as long as you could remember, and now that you've tasted it, you want more. You needed it, because once your twisted mind fixated on something, nothing else mattered: no consequence was too severe, no method was too strange.

You were wearing the tiniest blouse and shortest skirt you had. You knew your body was attractive and you knew that was how he liked it. The way he fucked you with one hand full of breasts and the other full of ass told you that, but even before that you caught him staring. You wanted to feel more than his eyes on you tonight. You wanted him to want you as much as you want him, to give you more than five minutes in a bar bathroom so you could show him that you could really rock his world. You thought if you could fuck him enough, you would hook him. He was already like a drug to you, had been for years, and in your fucked up head you thought maybe the two of you together were perfect: the very definition of two wrongs making a right. Because you were crazy and you knew it, and Tom... well, Tom was Tom.

You paused briefly at the door, taking a minute to roll your eyes at the tight-clothed sluts playing hard to get, before heading down the stairs to the basement. That's where his kind of action was, and that's where he would be, because it was Friday night and that's the way it was. It's always been that way, and it always would be until everyone was on the ground. As you turned the corner, the stench of alcohol flooded your senses. The bitches up there would have covered their noses, maybe even choked, but to you it was a comforting, familiar smell. You wouldn't want it any other way.

Georg was at the jukebox, no doubt playing U2, and he was definitely too distracted to even notice you. And that was a good thing, since he took a kind of sick pleasure in cock-blocking anyone who tried to get close to you. The whole overprotective brother thing bothered you, but for some reason, there wasn't no one in town that he considered good enough to lay they hands on you. Not even his best friend Tom.

You scanned the room from ceiling to floor, even though you didn't need to. You knew where he would be: at the bar with his group, a bottle of beer in his hand. You went straight to him. There was no point in playing. The dirty mirror behind the bar was tilted and stole the element of surprise as you approached. You made eye contact with him in the mirror, but he didn't turn around. He looked irritated, but it didn't faze you. Bill and Gustav were kind enough to greet you, but Tom was silent. You just stood up to sit on the bar stool next to him, letting your skirt ride up and your breasts bounce as you made yourself comfortable. You turned to him.

“Buy a girl a drink?” You asked in a falsely sweet voice.

Tom sat hunched over his beer. He didn't look at you when he spoke. “We’re in the middle of something.” He didn't try to hide the displeasure in his voice. "Go stick your tits in someone else's face, okay?"

"You seemed to like it the other night." You leaned in and spoke deep and husky into his ear.

You let your hand wander to his thigh, and his hard muscles clenched beneath the thin fabric of his pants when you touched him. Tom grabbed your wrist tightly and turned to face you. His huge hands wrapped around your wrist like a steel trap and you bit your lip to keep from moaning.

“I said fuck off. I have business.” He released you and turned to face Bill.

Tom had his back to you and was wearing his black t-shirt, you could see every tense muscle underneath. You couldn't contain yourself. You ran your hands over the fabric from the middle of his back up and over his bare shoulders, all rock hard, and he jolted forward as if you were made of fire. He turned around with his jaw clenched and leaned over.

“I swear to God, if you don’t get away from me right now…”

“You're going to do what, Tom? What the fuck are you going to do if I don’t leave? I’m just trying to get a drink.”

Tom picked up the bottle in front of Bill, the one Tom always bought for him, the one Bill didn't drink, and threw it on the bar next to him. Foam came out of the top and you could feel the liquid splash onto your bare shoulder. “There’s your fucking drink. Now go."

You took it with a smirk. "What a gentleman." You said, and you wandered off towards the bathroom.

You liked him angry; you liked the way the muscles in his arms tensed and his thick veins bulged with hot, angry blood pumping through them. You enjoyed irritating him and watching the pressure build until he broke. You would break him this night. You were sure of it.

You went to the bathroom, the same room he had fucked you senseless in a few nights before, and took the bottle out of your bag. You put some in your mouth and chewed the residue until you were good and excited. The cold beer felt good as it washed away the dull tingle in your mouth and mixed with the slow drip down your throat. You drank the beer to the end and smiled at yourself in the mirror, touching up your makeup a little. With your beer empty, you had an excuse to go back to the bar. The drug was fueling a deep desire for whiskey. You always thought beer was for sissies, anyway.

When you came out of the bathroom, you saw that Tom was alone. Where the hell where Bill had run off to and Gustav was in the corner with his hands on some random slut's ass. You scanned the area for your brother, but he were still clinging to the same girl. Tom was all yours now, there was no escaping it. You sat next to him again and ordered a double whiskey, waiting for him to speak. He didn't, and when your drink arrived, you took a large gulp and turned to him.

“Deals closed?” You asked.

He clenched his fists on either side of his beer, looking down and taking a deep breath before turning to face you. His eyes were on fire and you felt the heat hit your core.

“I'll tell you once. It's not going to happen, not tonight, not ever again, understand? Now get off your ass and take your madness elsewhere. I'm serious. I won’t tell you again.”

You started to feel it, that familiar tingling in the back of your neck that usually precedes some kind of irrational decision, you felt the anger rising and there was no stopping it once it started.

“What the fuck do you think you’re scolding me for?” You spat every word. “You think you can just fuck me and walk away like I’m trash? Do you think you're better than me? Fuck you, Tom. We’re not done yet.”

He banged his fists on the bar and despite the noise of conversation and loud music, everyone nearby turned to look.

Something about the way he used you full name irritated you even more. “Stay the fuck away from me. Don’t make me say that again.”

You pressed a button then, and your mind jumped to the nooks and crannies where you kept your darkest desires hidden. They were bubbling now and it was only a matter of time. You kept your voice steady, but your mind was already thinking about the details.

“Alright, you son of a bitch.” You said. “I will. But give me your lighter. I need to smoke.”

Tom hesitated, but finally decided it would be a small sacrifice to pay to get you out of his sight. He took his lighter out of his pocket and slid it across the counter to you, skull design facing up.

“I will bring it back.” You said, even though it was a lie.

"Don't worry." He replied. “Consider this a parting gift.”

"We will see." You said, and downed the rest of the whiskey in two big gulps before heading up the stairs and leaving.

It was hot as hell outside, but the basement bar was so humid that the night air felt good on your drug-flushed face. It was even invigorating, and that was good, because you had plans to put into practice and you didn't have time to waste. You called your friend. He was the only one you knew wouldn’t ask questions. Besides, he owed you one.

“I need a kit.” You said. “The complete package. I’m in the back of the bar.”

"What the hell is that?" He said.

“Just bring me that shit and shut up about it.” You were losing patience and time was passing. “Or do I need to remind you that you owe me a favor?”

“I’ll be there in ten minutes.” He said, and hung up without saying anything else.

Your friend was in the family business, like the rest of his brothers, his father before them and his father before him. They were torches, mostly cars, with some occasional buildings being used for insurance scams. Arson was their business, and although your brother Georg had always made it clear to your friends that you should never get involved, you knew the business inside out. You clearly remembered the first time you saw them set a car on fire. You shouldn't be there. They took you for a walk and told you to close your eyes. You didn't do that, of course. You peeked through your little fingers and watched them douse the van with gasoline before turning on the Zippo lighter and throwing it inside. You remembered the thrill you felt as you watched the lighter fly through the air towards its final destination, the rush of adrenaline as the van exploded in a ball of fire. Even through the closed window, you could feel the heat emanating from it or maybe it was just your blood boiling at the sight of it Either way, from that day on you couldn't resist the pull of a flame. You started smoking at age 12 just to have an excuse to use a lighter and watch the fire dance at the end of the cigarette as you lit it. Sometimes you would light a cigarette and not even smoke it, just watch it burn down to the filter, the smoke rising as it burned. The fire was in your blood, in your bones. Even if you weren't in the car that day, you would eventually figure it out.

Your friend showed up with the necessary supplies: all the shit for a quick hotline, two cans of gas, some bleach, and a crowbar to break the windows, you wouldn't need that last one, but it might be useful to have close by. The fire cannot go out too quickly. There's no point in that. He put the things in the trunk of your car and closed it, looking for answers he couldn't get from you. If he had seen the bike parked out of sight, everything would have made sense, but he didn't.

“Do you need help?” he asked.

"I got it." You answered. Your friend was quicker than you to start, but if he knew whose bike it was, he would never let you do it. You had to go it alone.

“You better know what the hell you're doing. We can’t take any pressure now.”

“I told you I’ll take care of this. Now go home.”

He threw his hands up, resigned to the fact that you would do what you would do and there was nothing he could say to make you change your mind. You were stubborn as a mule and completely off the rails, but he loved you just the same.

"Just be careful." He said as he got into the car, but he knew caution wasn't your thing. You were reckless as fuck and he could only hope that the family way was strong enough in you to keep you out of trouble. He knew you were educated on how to do it right, but it was the why that bothered him on the way home. If it was what he suspected it was, who he suspected it was, there was no telling what might happen. He put it out of his mind because he needed to. He couldn't get involved in whatever shit you were up to. He said a silent prayer for you as he pulled into the garage.

The minute his car disappeared from sight, you sprung into action. You parked your car next to Tom's bike and parked there before grabbing your supplies from the trunk. You stopped for a minute to observe, running your finger over the details and smiling. You would have liked him to fuck you by pressing your body against it. Too late now.

You took a quick look around before grabbing your blood red lipstick from your bag and scribbling the name of a street on the driver's window of your own car. He would know what that meant; he would know exactly where to go. You got back on the bike, slowly but surely starting it. You were proficient but not fast when it came to stealing, but luckily the night was still young and no one was leaving the bar at that time. You scanned the parking lot one more time before exiting out the back. Tom's bike wasn't exactly discreet, and you'd be damned if anyone up front saw it. You knew exactly where you were going - just a few blocks away, the end of a street full of decaying, abandoned three-story buildings. You could feel your skin crawl with anxiety at the thought of what Tom would do, since like you he had a certain level of psychosis and a propensity to cause trouble.

When you reached the end of the street, you parked right in the middle and began making preparations with almost uncontrollable excitement. You grabbed the gas cans and placed them next to the bike before reaching into the seat compartment and grabbing Tom's gun. You didn't know what to do with it, so you just stuffed it in your bag and placed it in the ground before picking up the crowbar. A quick glance at the street told you, you was alone; all the houses were dark and abandoned except the occupied one at the other end, squatters you knew, and they didn't call the police for anything. The only light was provided by flickering street lamps, but it was sufficient for your purposes. You took one last look at the bike before breaking the mirrors one by one. You picked up some shards on your arm, but nothing too serious. You liked the pain, anyway; you liked the smell of blood.

When the glass was good and ruined, you started with the gas. You took special care not to get anything dirty, but you knew what you were doing and managed to maintain it without much effort. When it was soaked and ready, you bleached the cans and crowbar and threw them over the chain link fence into the ocean of weeds growing in the abandoned lot beyond. You went back and grabbed your bag, taking out Tom's Glock and tucking it into the waistband of your skirt. You didn't know why you did it, but something inside you wanted it there, out in the open, where he could see that you had claimed it. It was cold and hard and having it pressed against your warm skin made your anticipation almost unbearable. You retreated into the shadows, pulling Tom's Zippo lighter from your bag and rolling it over and over in your hand, waiting.

Tom was almost done. He was trying to control the next thing, but Bill was in a bad mood and being difficult. And then there was you. He dismissed you immediately, but something in you crawled under his skin and wouldn't go away. You were like a damn rash. He should have never fucked you and he knew it. Don't dip your dick in madness, every idiot knows that. But you were ruthless and shameless and always have been. You were also smart, even though you were crazy. You saw how low his defenses were that night and went for it. It didn't hurt that you had a pretty face and a body built for sin, but still. He should have known better. Now you were an itch he couldn’t scratch.

He threw a wad of cash on the bar to the bartender and left, forgoing goodbyes because he simply didn't give a shit. He walked to the back parking lot, trying to decide what to do with the rest of the night. He was turned on and irritated and knew he would end up either pumping some iron or pumping his cock until he was tired enough to sleep. He took his keys out of his pocket and looked up as he turned the corner, but his bike wasn't there. He took a quick look around, he wasn't drunk, not by a long shot, and he could have sworn that's where he parked, because that's where he always parked. That's when he saw your car, that horrible thing you were driving, and the note you had left in the window for him, scrawled in that whore shade of red you always used to draw attention to your lips, not that you needed it: those lips were made for sucking cock and a blind man could see that. It was just the name of a street, but he knew the place. It was only a few blocks away, but it was no fucking man's land, and he had a nagging feeling that he'd better get there quickly. He got scared and kicked the rusty covering on your car door before running away. He didn't stop until he saw his motorcycle, broken glasses everywhere. Then you stepped into the light and he saw it in your hand, his lighter with the skull design on it.

You wouldn't do that.

You flicked your thumb and the Zippo lighter came to life. You watched the flame dance for a moment and smiled. You were in a kind of trance and didn't hear Tom shouting useless orders for you to stop. You saw him when he looked up, though. He was heading towards you, so you let it fly. He stopped suddenly, the two of you watching the lighter sail in slow motion through the air and land straight on his bike: perfect aim, impeccable execution. The bike started with a hiss and a roar, and for a moment all Tom could do was look at it, his face blank, hard and emotionless. Not that you would know. You were paralyzed by the bright rising flames. The heat from the flames warmed you all over, and your insides were also on fire. Your blood was boiling with the adrenaline of the act, your pussy was throbbing as it sometimes was, Tom's proximity was just a small part of that; it was the exhilarating danger of the fire that really motivated you. You turned to Tom and for the first time his eyes dropped to your waist. He saw his Glock appearing, taunting him.

He crawled towards you, closing the distance with a few purposeful steps, and then he was upon you, malice tearing lines across his forehead. He pulled his Glock from the waistband of your skirt and brought it straight to your face, hard enough to leave a mark but not break a bone. You stood and turned your head to face him. You looked deep into his brown eyes, the glow of fire playing with the golden flecks in his irises, and slowly licked the blood from your bottom lip.

So you went ahead, indifferent as could be. “Hey, Tom.”

He grabbed you by the shoulders and shook you violently, shouting "Hey? HEY? Is that what you have to tell me?"

“What do you want me to say?” The heat from the fire was licking at your legs and you couldn't help it. “I had to get your attention.”

"So you set my motorcycle on fire, you crazy bitch?" Tom's voice kept rising until he couldn't take it anymore.

He grabbed your throat with one hand and dragged you across the lawn of the last house on the street, around the corner and throwing you against the rusty fence. It squeaked under your weight as you bounced off and fell to your knees in the dirty grass. You looked at him for a minute, saw his Glock raised for another try, and laughed like a maniac.

“You’re sexy when you’re mad.” You said, then let your gaze wander to the bike, taking in the flames biting the air and sending small sparks everywhere. You were warm everywhere and ready for whatever punishment Tom had to dish out. You stood up and shook yourself.

"Sorry about all this." Your sweet voice was as fake as your apology.

“What the fuck do you say, bitch? Are you sorry?” He grabbed your throat again and pushed you hard against the fence, your face burning with rage as he pointed the gun under your chin. "Sorry is what you'll be."

But you didn't regret it, not one bit, and you never would. You looked into his eyes and a hint of a smile touched your lips before spitting straight into his face.

"Fuck you, Kaulitz."

Hearing his last name pass your lips made his skin crawl. Tom removed his hand from your neck and slowly wiped the spit from his forehead, laughing to no one in particular before pinning your arms above your head and moving the gun to your temple.

All it took was the rough skin of his fingers, the blunt pressure they were capable of. For your panties to be soaked, the grip he had on you was sweet agony.

“Now you’re really fucked up.” He said, and you just smiled again. “I’m going to wipe that shitty smile off your face. Do you think I give a shit about you being a girl? Because I don't give. You’re fucking crazy and you need a lesson.”

He threw the gun aside and grabbed your hair tightly, pulling your head back. You arched your back into the movement until your body was pressed firmly against his and he was looking straight into your eyes.

“You will learn to keep your madness away from me.” He said. “And that’s me being nice.”

Your eyes rolled back. It was everything you wanted. It was everything you had ever wanted for as long as you could remember. Every calculated move, every preparation, every little detail, all leading up to this moment:

“Hit me, Tom.” You said, breathless and anxious. “Go ahead, do it.”

Tom considered it for a moment, his head tilted slightly to the side. You were crazy, no doubt, but you were fucking hot and for some reason he couldn't push it away, he felt bad for destroying your face. The animal part of him, the one that was about to take control, would love nothing more than to hit you on the head and watch it explode like a watermelon, but he couldn't. He didn't know if he could put a girl down, especially one with boobs like you had. When Tom first hit you, he hadn't quite decided whether he was going to kill you, but one look over his shoulder at the burning wreckage and he knew he would definitely set you right good and proper.

You fell to the ground after the first punch and, in the next few blows, Tom only saw red, heard only his anger echoing in his ears and the crack of fire engulfing his bike. Something made him stop, however. A strange sound coming from the bloodied girl beneath him: a moan, and not the kind that comes with a busted-up face. It hit him then, this crazy slut was enjoying it. You looked at him and your eyes darkened. You were smiling, licking your busted lip. And then you laughed, that horrible, evil laugh. You were like a fucking witch, using some kind of fucked up dark magic to make his dick hard. And it was hard, hard as a rock, there's no denying it. Your breasts were bursting out of your blouse and your legs were spread wide, your short skirt riding up to reveal your barely there panties. There was a heat coming off of you too, and it wasn't from the bike burning brightly behind him. The thin fabric of his pants was doing nothing to hide the bulge there, and you noticed. Of course you fucking noticed.

“Do you get turned on by this shit, Tom?” You asked, teasing him. "Let's go then. Hit me again.”

"You're crazy, you know that?"

You laughed again. That shit laugh. You had your tits out now and were playing with them, as if his dick wasn't already hard enough. He hated himself for it, but he knew he would end up giving you what you wanted. But he wasn't done with you yet. Not by far. He grabbed you by the hair and pulled you to your knees, pulling your face against his crotch.

"Do you feel it, bitch?" He heard you moan against him, felt your hot tongue licking the fabric. "Well, prepare to choke on this."

He let go of your hair and bent down to pick up the gun, tucking it into the back of his pants as he took a condom out of his wallet and handed it to you. He pulled his pants down to his thighs and pointed the gun at your head.

“Put it on and open your whore mouth.”

You licked your bloody lips at the sight of his cock, long, strong and full of veins before rolling the condom down its entire length. You had barely reached the base when you felt one of his strong hands grab your hair and pull you closer. You stuck your tongue out to tease his tip, but he pulled your head back and let go. He pulled the slide on the Glock and you heard the click as he placed one in the chamber. He pressed the barrel to your forehead and smiled at you.

“Bite me and I’ll fucking kill you. Now open it.” He grabbed your hair again and you opened your mouth, taking the length of his cock deep into your throat.

He held the gun just above your head as he fucked you and if you hadn't had a face full of cock you would have smiled; you knew he assumed you would have a gag reflex and you knew it irritated him to find out otherwise.

He wanted to hear you fight and was fucking a hole in your head trying to get you there. Tears were streaming down your face from the grip he had on your hair and the cramp in your jaw, but you were able to breathe well through your nose. You knew how to take dick, and it was very frustrating for Tom. He was really giving it to you now, and when he realized that fucking you in the throat wasn't going to get him anywhere, he pulled your head so close that your lips were in his balls. He held you there with his armed hand and brought his other hand to your nose, closing your nostrils with his thumb and forefinger.

"Try to breathe now, you slut." You looked up and could see the sarcastic smile on his lips.

Now you would fight, he knew. You were all kinds of stuffy and when you started squirming and clawing at his legs, he just laughed at you. He wasn't going to let you choke, but you didn't know that, and he let it continue until he felt your throat closing around his dick and heard your muffled screams. He pulled out of you with a wet pop and you choked on as much air as you could, gasping and coughing into the dirt beneath him. He just stood there with his dick out, watching you. You were like a strange bird, and he honestly had no idea what you would do next. He wanted to know, so he waited.

You finally caught your breath, but you weren't looking at him. It wasn't that you were ignoring him exactly, it was more like you forgot he was there. You were on your knees, entranced by the sight of the burning bike, and before Tom realized what was happening, you were on your feet, taking off your panties and throwing them over the fence.

"What are you doing?" He asked, because he really didn't know.

You turned to him. "Is not it beautiful?" You asked.

“My damn bike on fire next to an abandoned shack? No. That’s not the word I would use.”

“I mean, if it weren’t for your bike, would you think it was beautiful?”

"Well, it's my bike, and you set it on fire, and I'm not done with you yet, so if you wanted to stop and smell the damn roses, you picked the wrong time."

You slowly walked towards him, lifting your skirt inch by inch until it was caught around your waist and he could see everything. A little more light on the matter and he would have been able to see your thighs glistening where you soaked yourself. He could see your hot little clit, and if he hadn't noticed before, he definitely noticed when you lowered your hand and started stroking it. He didn't know he was holding his breath until he had to let it all go at once.

“Just fuck me, Tom. You can kill me later, but fuck me now.” And he wanted to kill you. He wanted to strangle you to death because you were a psychopath and you set his motorcycle on fire and you were a fucking stain on his life.

But most of all, he wanted to kill you because he wanted to fuck you. He wanted to kill you because you had played this dangerous game with him, and you fucking won. He had to laugh, and it was longer and louder than he expected. He laughed because, in some fucked up way, he was impressed. You were twisted as fuck and belonged locked in chains in a padded room somewhere, but you had gone against him alone, and you had defeated him. Few could say that, certainly no one who was still breathing, but you could.

When he composed himself, you were on top of him, stroking his almost painfully hard cock against your clit. Even through the condom, he could feel how hot and wet you were. You were tight too, he remembered. He had been pleasantly surprised. Thinking about how your pussy felt made him angry, because he didn't want to want you. His cock wasn't having any of it, however, and when you spread your legs and rubbed the tip of it against your pussy, he lost whatever control he had left.

“Do you want to get fucked for real this time?” He growled. “I will break you in half.”

“Fuck, do it.” You screamed. And you were begging for it, with every cell in your body you were begging. “You can fuck me to death. I don't mind. Just do it."

Tom cornered you against the fence and drove his dick into your stomach. You reached above your head and grabbed the rusty fence, and when he brought his lips to your ear, you shivered at the feeling of his stubble scratching your cheek. “Come on up and enjoy the ride, bitch, because I’m going to put a bullet in your head when I’m done with you.”

You just looked at him and smiled before jumping into his arms. You hung onto the fence and wrapped your legs tightly around him and he positioned you just right. One strong thrust of his hips and he was deep inside you. You made some kind of animal fucked up sound and he knew it hurt, but you liked it, it was all over your face and the way you moved your hips against him. He wasn't playing well, though. He didn't care if you liked it or not.

He used his cock on you like it was a fucking samurai sword, pretending that each cruel blow was a new, deep gash in your flesh, and that your pussy juice was hot, viscous blood flowing from the wounds. He couldn't kill her; he knew that now. But he could fake it and he could put the fear of God into you while he did it. You were clinging to him like a damn monkey, writhing beneath him as he pounded into you mercilessly. You were gripping and shaking the fence so hard he thought you were going to knock it over, and he could see that your hands were cut and bloody from the rusty metal. Maybe he would remind you to try that, maybe he wouldn't. Now all he could think about was the grip you had on his dick and the look in your eyes as you looked over his shoulder into the fire. The light from the flames flickered in your face and he couldn't see the damage he had done to you. He was grateful for that; made it easier to fuck you until the end of your life. In broad light, the mess he made would have repelled him, regardless of how good the rest of your body felt. And you felt good, better than good, even though he knew he was traveling on a crazy train. It didn't matter, though. You may have won your little game, but he was in charge now. He fucked you with a fury he didn't know he had and your screams became more and more insistent. He knew you were close to cumming, and part of him wanted to be a sadistic jerk, pull out, make you wait and beg for it, and then cum all over your face. But he remembered the way your pussy felt when you came on his dick the last time, so he let you get there, not for your pleasure, but for his.

"Are you going to cum on this dick?" He growled. "Are you going to cum one last time before I kill you, you psycho slut?"

You threw your head back and screamed at the night sky. "Fuck yes. Fuck me harder, Tom."

“What if I stopped right now?” He said. He wanted you to beg for it. “What if I got you all hot and bothered and put a bullet in your head?”

You looked at him, and he was fucking you as he asked, and your eyes got glassy and crazy-looking. That made him slow and he almost stopped, but then you spoke.

“Then choke me.” You whispered. “Choke me and let me cum and then keep squeezing.”

“You’re too crazy, bitch.” He said, and kept his hands firmly placed on your hips as he fucked you.

But now it was all he could think about. You didn't need his hands to hold you down, you were covered between the cruel grip of your legs and the fence you clung to. It would be so simple, really. You were a little thing. He could break your neck if he wanted to. But he didn't want to, not really, not anymore.

"Do you really want me to strangle you?" He asked, and I couldn't believe he was asking the slut who set his bike on fire how you wanted come, but he was.

"Yes." You said. "Please. Do it. I’m going to cum so hard and then you can finish me.”

And you would have died happy with his strong hands around your neck and his cock trapped inside you. You knew he wouldn't kill you now. He would have already done that. He could have done this many times before, but he didn't. And he was looking at you in a way that told you that you were fucking him the way he liked to be fucked, letting him take control, making him feel like he was the king of the fucking world. And to you, he was the king. Other punks could run around all they wanted, pretending their dicks dangled lower than his, but everyone knew Tom was the man. He was the guy you should be afraid of, the kind of guy who would put you down if you looked at him funny. And here you were, watching his bike burn by your own hands and getting fucked for your trouble. You couldn't help but laugh.

“What the fuck are you laughing at?” He retorted. “Do you think I won’t do it?”

And then, just like that, his huge hands were around your neck and squeezing. You were already so close to cumming, but between the anger on his face, the fire dancing in the distance, and the lack of oxygen, you came like a rocket. Your pussy clamped down hard on his dick and you bucked so hard that his hands lost control of your throat, and the rush of air that hit your lungs made you twice as excited. You screamed like you were dying, and thought in the back of your mind confused that you might be climaxing, but you didn't give a damn because you couldn't stop cumming for what felt like a year and he fucked you so hard and completely that you were essentially dead when it was over. Your body was jelly and you couldn't hold back any longer and he knew it so he pulled out and threw you in a heap on the floor.

“I hope you enjoyed this.” He said, ripping off the condom. “Because this is going to hurt.”

You thought for a moment that he could fuck your ass without a condom, and if you were honest, you would have let him, but that wasn't what he had in mind.

“Sit down and look at me.” He said, and started jerking his dick. He slapped your face a few times between thrusts and you smiled and opened your mouth.

"Are you going to swallow it all?" You nodded and stuck your tongue out as far as you could. You wanted to taste him so much you could have cried.

“Get ready for this.” he said, and you watched the veins on his arms ripple as he pumped himself until he came. You would have liked to do this for him, but you stood still, on your knees, with your hands behind your back and your mouth open and ready for him. “Open your eyes, bitch. Keep them open.”

You moved your gaze between his face and his cock; you couldn’t decide which one looked angrier. They were both beautiful, though, and that's what you were thinking about when his free hand grabbed your face and held your right eye open while the other masturbated right into him. The first explosion was strong and hurt like hell, but the next jets streaked your face. You smiled even though your eyes were on fire. You wish you could see his face when he came, but you could only imagine the evil grin he must have worn as he blew straight into your eyeball. He gave you a solid fuck you at the end, and you respected him for that. He certainly deserved it, and you found it almost artistic in its execution. You squeezed your eye shut as hard as you could, and laughed because you knew you were crying cum and it was the funniest thing you had ever imagined. Only you weren't imagining it; it was happening, and you reached up to wipe away your milky white tears. You couldn't see out of your right eye, but your left was working just fine, so you used it to stare at him as you sucked his juices off your fingers. You could taste the strong taste of him even through the dirt and blood and rust, and you moaned into your fingers. You must have been a vision, one eye tightly closed and the other bulging because he couldn't stop laughing at you. But you didn't care. You were happy.

Funny that you shouldn't be happy at a time like that, but you were. If what he said was true, he was just moments away from killing you. Your face was bruised and something was probably broken, your hands were cut, your knees were scraped, you looked like you had gone to war, and in some ways you had. You had won some battles, but in the end Tom held all the cards. He composed himself and grabbed his Glock from the grass, returning to kneel in front of you, your forehead pressed to his.

“Any last words?” He said, his face set in an evil smile.

"Marry me." You said it, and you meant it.

He burst into laughter and stood up in front of you. He pointed the gun at your head and moved his finger to unlock it. One movement of his thick finger and the lights turned off. You heard the deafening crack of the gun and saw the barrel glow and closed your eyes but felt nothing but splinters of wood from where the bullet entered the side of the house a foot to your right. You opened your eyes and he was smiling at you, that shit-eating Tom smile you loved so much.

"If you mess with me again it will be right here." He bent down and pressed a dirty finger to your forehead.

Tom patted your cheek twice in a row and ran towards the bar. You stood there for a moment, but you knew it was past time to get the hell out of there. If you were caught on the spot, it would mean trouble for your entire family. You couldn't allow that. You pulled your blouse up over your breasts and your skirt down. Your panties were long ago left to the weeds and you never lost your shoes. You left in the opposite direction from Tom, even if it meant heading home instead of taking the car. You wouldn't go to the bar now, not after what happened, not in the state you were in. You knew Tom wouldn't say a word about what really happened to his bike. He'd say it was some punk fucking him, and he'd probably savage some random kid for good measure, just to make a good show of it. You would say you were attacked, but managed to escape. You would get ready in the morning and take care of your business as if this whole mess never happened.

Except it had happened, and you would never forget it, and even though he almost put a bullet in your brain a few times that night and threatened to do it for real, you knew you wouldn't be able to let him go. Not now, not ever. You smiled. He was like fire to you: powerful, beautiful, deadly dangerous, and easy to unleash. You'd be happy to watch the world burn just to have him again.

#tom kaulitz #tokio hotel #bill kaulitz #georg listing #gustav schäfer #tokio hotel smut #bill kaulitz smut #tom kaulitz x reader

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shima-draws · 9 months ago

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I've been teasing her for months!! But at long last her ref is complete 🌷

I actually DON'T have a 5 page essay on her backstory this time (like I did for Ilari LMAO) but I do have some info about her if anybody is curious!

Name: Ione

Age: 25

Hair color: Silver

Eye color: Orangish-yellow

Element: Light

Grabbing info from the few posts I've talked about her already, Ione was originally a very famous singer, pretty much an idol within the world of ATS. She'd hold huge concerts that were always sold out and people from around the world would flock to see her perform. Eventually tho all of the attention started to attract the wrong kinds of people, and sooner or later Ione was "scouted" by a very rich man who wanted her all to himself. She was manipulated and blackmailed into signing a contract with him that would essentially end her touring and make it so that she would become a private singer for him. He basically chained her with this contract and so she disappeared from the public eye.

Ione soon discovered that other people with similar talents had also been gathered and trapped by this man's contracts. Among them was a prodigy violin player who she grew very close with. The two of them struggled under the demands of this man, and eventually violin boy started to get physically abused by him 😭 Things escalated to the point where Ione decided she wanted OUT and was determined to do anything to escape. This led to a very...traumatic event that caused her to go mute by choice.

When Ione finally makes her escape, thankfully she's changed so much that people don't recognize her in public (mostly her hair! It used to be short and didn't cover one of her eyes before). Shortly after she runs into Nahu and his group, and is unceremoniously recruited to join them lol (Nahu can be VERY persuasive). Ione communicates with them through sign language, which luckily a couple of them are fluent in--Ezio and Sage to be specific. They then teach the others in the group sign language too. It takes Nahu a bit to get the hang of it bc he has like, no attention span whatsoever, but being a dragon elemental helps since his senses are super attuned all the time, so he can generally tell what Ione is feeling and what she's trying to convey when she talks to him :")

Over time Ione grows closer with them, and like everybody else is hit with the Found Family, and realizes that yeah. She'd do absolutely ANYTHING for this group of crazy weirdos. She starts to fall in love with Nahu (bc who WOULDN'T), and slowly gains the courage to use her voice again. This leads to secret meetings with Sage, who helps her relearn how to use her vocal cords.

Eventually her past catches up with her, of course, but the group all bands together to set her free from it. She has to face off against violin boy, who thought she'd abandoned him and got Messed Up Mentally as a result, so THAT'S a thing she's gotta deal with. But she's able to reach him by singing for the first time in over five years, and everyone absolutely loses their shit at how beautiful her voice is and they all cry and it’s very emotional!!

Even after regaining her voice she still prefers to stay quiet most of the time, as that is what she's comfortable with, but she's totally okay with speaking when she needs to. Also I need to mention this but bc she used to be like. An idol. Obviously her routines consisted of both song and dance so she's a pretty good dancer. Out of everyone in the group, Ione is the ONLY person Ezio will dance with (and he is a very VERY good dancer himself, but will only dance with someone who can keep up with him, which Ione can). Everyone is very jealous of this, ESPECIALLY Nahu lol bc he wants to dance with Ezio too 😂

Ione's a light elemental! I haven't given a LOT of thought into her powers yet but I do know that her singing makes her stronger and also gives her powers a boost, which in turn helps the rest of the group. She also can ride on these light waves--I will have to draw them sometime bc I can't really explain them in words, it'd be better to show them visually lol

And that's her!! My flower light mute girl <33333

#Original character #Character art #Character design #Fantasy #Flowers #Character reference #OC art #Art #Digital art #Shima arts #Shima's OCs #Among the Stars #ATS #Ione #IDK HOW ELSE TO TAG THIS ONE LOL #shima-draws

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wirewitchviolet · 11 months ago

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How a Computer Works - Part 1 (Components)

I am about to teach you on a real fundamental, connecting up electronic components level, how a computer actually works. Before I get into the meat of this though (you can just skip down below the fold if you don't care), here's the reasons I'm sitting doing so in this format:

Like a decade or two ago, companies Facebook pushed this whole "pivot to video" idea on the whole internet with some completely faked data, convincing everyone that everything had to be a video, and we need to start pushing back against that. Especially for stuff like complex explanations of things or instructions, it's much more efficient to just explain things clearly in text, maybe with some visual aids, so people can easily search, scan, and skip around between sections. It's also a hell of a lot easier to host things long term, and you can even print out a text based explainer and not need a computer to read it, keep it on a desk, highlight it, etc.

People are so clueless about how computers actually work that they start really thinking like it's all magical. Even programmers. Aside from how proper knowledge lets you get more out of them, this leads to people spouting off total nonsense about "teaching sand to think" or "everything is just 1s and 0s" or "this 'AI' a con artist who was trying to sell me NFTs a month ago probably really is an amazing creative thinking machine that can do everything he says!"

We used to have this cultural value going where it was expected that if you owned something and used it day to day, you'd have enough basic knowledge of how it worked that if it stopped working you could open it up, see what was wrong, and maybe fix it on your own, or maybe even put one together again from scratch, and that's obviously worth bringing back.

I'm personally working on a totally bonkers DIY project and I'd like to hype up like-minded people for when it gets farther along.

So all that said, have a standard reminder that I am completely reliant on Patreon donations to survive, keep updating this blog, and ideally start getting some PCBs and chips and a nice oscilloscope to get that mystery project off the ground.

Electricity probably doesn't work like how you were taught (and my explanation shouldn't be trusted too far either).

I remember, growing up, hearing all sorts of things about electricity having this sort of magical ability to always find the shortest possible path to where it needs to get, flowing like water, and a bunch of other things that are kind of useful for explaining how a Faraday cage or a lightning rod works, and not conflicting with how simple electronics will have a battery and then a single line of wire going through like a switch and a light bulb or whatever back to the other end of the battery.

If you had this idea drilled into your head hard enough, you might end up thinking that if we have a wire hooked to the negative end of a battery stretching off to the east, and another wire stretching off to the east from the positive end, and we bridge between the two in several places with an LED or something soldered to both ends, only the westernmost one is going to light up, because hey, the shortest path is the one that turns off as quickly as possible to connect to the other side, right? Well turns out no, all three are going to light up, because that "shortest path" thing is a total misunderstanding.

Here's how it actually works, roughly. If you took basic high school chemistry, you learned about how the periodic table is set up, right? A given atom, normally, has whatever number of protons in the core, and the same number of electrons, whipping all over around it, being attracted to those protons but repelled by each other, and there's particular counts of electrons which are super chill with that arrangement so we put those elements in the same column as each other, and then as you count up from those, you get the elements between those either have some electrons that don't fit all tight packed in the tight orbit and just kinda hang out all wide and lonely and "want to" buddy up with another atom that has more room, up to the half full column that can kinda go either way, then as we approach the next happy number they "want to" have a little more company to get right to that cozy tight packed number, and when you have "extra" electrons and "missing" electrons other atoms kinda cozy up and share so they hit those good noble gas counts.

I'm sure real experts want to scream at me for both that and this, but this is basically how electricity works. You have a big pile of something at the "positive" end that's "missing electrons" (for the above reason or maybe actually ionized so they really aren't there), and a "negative" end that's got spares. Then you make wires out of stuff from those middle of the road elements that have awkward electron counts and don't mind buddying up (and also high melting points and some other handy qualities) and you hook those in there. And the electron clouds on all the atoms in the wire get kinda pulled towards the positive side because there's more room over there, but if they full on leave their nucleus needs more electron pals, so yeah neighbors get pulled over, and the whole wire connected to the positive bit ends up with a positive charge to it, and the whole wire on the negative bit is negatively charged, and so yeah, anywhere you bridge the gap between the two, the electrons are pretty stoked about balancing out these two big awkward compromises and they'll start conga lining over to balance things out, and while they're at it they'll light up lights or shake speakers or spin motors or activate electromagnets or whatever other rad things you've worked out how to make happen with a live electric current.

Insulators, Resistors, Waves, and Capacitors

Oh and we typically surround these wires made of things that are super happy about sharing electrons around with materials that are very much "I'm good, thanks," but this isn't an all or nothing system and there's stuff you can connect between the positive and negative ends of things that still pass the current along, but only so much so fast. We use those to make resistors, and those are handy because sometimes you don't want to put all the juice you have through something because it would damage it, and having a resistor anywhere along a path you're putting current through puts a cap on that flow, and also sometimes you might want a wire connected to positive or negative with a really strong resistor so it'll have SOME sort of default charge, but if we get a free(r) flowing connection attached to that wire somewhere else that opens sometimes, screw that little trickle going one way, we're leaning everyone the other way for now.

The other thing with electricity is is that the flow here isn't a basic yes/no thing. How enthusiastically those electrons are getting pulled depends on the difference in charge at the positive and negative ends, and also if you're running super long wires then even if they conduct real good, having all that space to spread along is going to kinda slow things to a trickle, AND the whole thing is kinda going to have some inherent bounciness to it both because we're dealing with electrons whipping and spinning all over and because, since it's a property that's actually useful for a lot of things we do with electricity, the power coming out of the wall has this intentional wobbly nature because we've actually got this ridiculous spinny thing going on that's constantly flip flopping which prong of the socket is positive and which is negative and point is we get these sine waves of strength by default, and they kinda flop over if we're going really far.

Of course there's also a lot of times when you really want to not have your current flow flickering on and off all the time, but hey fortunately one of the first neat little electronic components we ever worked out are capacitors... and look, I'm going to be straight with you. I don't really get capacitors, but the basic idea is you've got two wires that go to big wide plates, and between those you have something that doesn't conduct the electricity normally, but they're so close the electromagnetic fields are like vibing, and then if you disconnect them from the flow they were almost conducting and/or they get charged to their limit, they just can't deal with being so charged up and they'll bridge their own gap and let it out. So basically you give them electricity to hold onto for a bit then pass along, and various sizes of them are super handy if you want to have a delay between throwing a switch and having things start doing their thing, or keeping stuff going after you break a connection, or you make a little branching path where one branch connects all regular and the other goes through a capacitor, and the electricity which is coming in in little pulses effectively comes out as a relatively steady stream because every time it'd cut out the capacity lets its charge go.

We don't just have switches, we have potentiometers.

OK, so... all of the above is just sort of about having a current and maybe worrying about how strong it is, but other than explaining how you can just kinda have main power rails running all over, and just hook stuff across them all willy-nilly rather than being forced to put everything in one big line, but still, all you can do with that is turn the whole thing on and off by breaking the circuit. Incidentally, switches, buttons, keys, and anything else you use to control the behavior of any electronic device really are just physically touching loose wires together or pulling them apart... well wait no, not all, this is a good bit to know.

None of this is actually pass/fail, really, there's wave amplitudes and how big a difference we have between the all. So when you have like, a volume knob, that's a potentiometer, which is a simple little thing where you've got your wire, it's going through a resistor, and then we have another wire we're scraping back and forth along the resistor, using a knob, usually, and the idea is the current only has to go through X percent of the resistor to get to the wire you're moving, which proportionately reduces the resistance. So you have like a 20 volt current, you've got a resistor that'll drop that down to 5 or so, but then you move this other wire down along and you've got this whole dynamic range and you can fine tune it to 15 or 10 or whatever coming down that wire. And what's nice about this again, what's actually coming down the wire is this wobbily wave of current, it's not really just "on" or "off, and as you add resistance, the wobble stays the same, it's just the peaks and valleys get closer to being just flat. Which is great if you're making, say, a knob to control volume, or brightness, or anything you want variable intensity in really.

Hey hey, it's a relay!

Again, a lot of the earliest stuff people did with electronics was really dependent on that analog wobbly waveform angle. Particularly for reproducing sound, and particularly the signals of a telegraph. Those had to travel down wires for absurd distances, and as previously stated, when you do that the signal is going to eventually decay to nothing. But then someone came up with this really basic idea where every so often along those super long wires, you set something up that takes the old signal and uses it to start a new one. They called them relays, because you know, it's like a relay race.

If you know how an electromagnet works (something about the field generated when you coil a bunch of copper wire around an iron core and run an electric current through it), a relay is super simple. You've got an electromagnet in the first circuit you're running, presumably right by where it's going to hit the big charged endpoint, and that magnetically pulls a tab of metal that's acting as a switch on a new circuit. As long as you've got enough juice left to activate the magnet, you slam that switch and voom you've got all the voltage you can generate on the new line.

Relays don't get used too much in other stuff, being unpopular at the time for not being all analog and wobbily (slamming that switch back and forth IS going to be a very binary on or off sorta thing), and they make this loud clacking noise that's actually just super cool to hear in devices that do use them (pinball machines are one of the main surviving use cases I believe) but could be annoying in some cases. What's also neat is that they're a logical AND gate. That is, if you have current flowing into the magnet, AND you have current flowing into the new wire up to the switch, you have it flowing out through the far side of the switch, but if either of those isn't true, nothing happens. Logic gates, to get ahead of myself a bit, are kinda the whole thing with computers, but we still need the rest of them. So for these purposes, relays re only neat if it's the most power and space efficient AND gate you have access to.

Oh and come to think of it, there's no reason we need to have that magnet closing the circuit when it's doing its thing. We could have it closed by default and yank it open by the magnet. Hey, now we're inverting whatever we're getting on the first wire! Neat!

Relay computers clack too loud! Gimme vacuum tubes!

So... let's take a look at the other main thing people used electricity for before coming up with the whole computer thing, our old friend the light bulb! Now I already touched a bit on the whole wacky alternating current thing, and I think this is actually one of the cases that eventually lead to it being adopted so widely, but the earliest light bulbs tended to just use normal direct current, where again, you've got the positive end and the negative end, and we just take a little filament of whatever we have handy that glows when you run enough of a current through it, and we put that in a big glass bulb and pump out all the air we can, because if we don't, the oxygen in there is probably going to change that from glowing a bit to straight up catching on fire and burning immediately.

But, we have a new weird little problem, because of the physics behind that glowing. Making something hot, on a molecular level, is just kinda adding energy to the system so everything jitters around more violently, and if you get something hot enough that it glows, you're getting it all twitchy enough for tinier particles to just fly the hell off it. Specifically photons, that's the light bit, but also hey, remember, electrons are just kinda free moving and whipping all over looking for their naked proton pals... and hey, inside this big glass bulb, we've got that other end of the wire with the more positive charge to it. Why bother wandering up this whole coily filament when we're in a vacuum and there's nothing to get in the way if we just leap straight over that gap? So... they do that, and they're coming in fast and on elliptical approaches and all, so a bunch of electrons overshoot and smack into the glass on the far side, and now one side of every light bulb is getting all gross and burnt from that and turning all brown and we can't have that.

So again, part of the fix is we switched to alternating current so it's at least splitting those wild jumps up to either side, but before that, someone tried to solve this by just... kinda putting a backboard in there. Stick a big metal plate on the end of another wire in the bulb connected to a positive charge, and now OK, all those maverick electrons smack into here and aren't messing up the glass, but also hey, this is a neat little thing. Those electrons are making that hop because they're all hot and bothered. If we're not heating up the plate they're jumping to, and there's no real reason we'd want to, then if we had a negative signal over on that side... nothing would happen. Electrons aren't getting all antsy and jumping back.

So now we have a diode! The name comes because we have two (di-) electrodes (-ode) we care about in the bulb (we're just kind of ignoring the negative one), and it's a one way street for our circuit. That's useful for a lot of stuff, like not having electricity flow backwards through complex systems and mess things up, converting AC to DC (when it flips, current won't flow through the diode so we lop off the bottom of the wave, and hey, we can do that thing with capacitors to release their current during those cutoffs, and if we're clever we can get a pretty steady high).

More electrodes! More electrodes!

So a bit after someone worked out this whole vacuum tube diode thing, someone went hey, what if it was a triode? So, let's stick another electrode in there, and this one just kinda curves around in the middle, just kinda making a grate or a mesh grid, between our hot always flowing filament and that catch plate we're keeping positively charged when it's doing stuff. Well this works in a neat way. If there's a negative charge on it, it's going to be pushing back on those electrons jumping over, and if there's a positive charge on it, it's going to help pull those electrons over (it's all thin, so they're going to shoot right past it, especially if there's way more of a positive charge over on the plate... and here's the super cool part- This is an analog thing. If we have a relatively big negative charge, it's going to repel everything, if it's a relatively big positive, it's going to pull a ton across, if it's right in the middle, it's like it wasn't even in there, and you can have tiny charges for all the gradients in between.

We don't need a huge charge for any of this though, because we're just helping or hindering the big jump from the high voltage stuff, and huh, weren't we doing this whole weak current controlling a strong current thing before with the relay? We were! And this is doing the same thing! Except now we're doing it all analog style, not slapping switch with a magnet, and we can make those wavy currents peak higher or lower and cool, now we can have phone lines boost over long distances too, and make volume knobs, and all that good stuff.

The relay version of this had that cool trick though where you could flip the output. Can we still flip the output? We sure can, we just need some other toys in the mix. See we keep talking about positive charges and negative charges at the ends of our circuits, but these are relative things. I mentioned way back when how you can use resistors to throttle how much of a current we've got, so you can run two wires to that grid in the triode. One connects to a negative charge and the other positive, with resistors on both those lines, and a switch that can break the connection on the positive end. If the positive is disconnected, we've got a negative charge on the grid, since it's all we've got, but if we connect it, and the resistor to the negative end really limits flow, we're positive in the section the grid's in. And over on the side with the collecting plate, we branch off with another resistor setup so the negative charge on that side is normally the only viable connection for a positive, but when we flip the grid to positive, we're jumping across the gap in the vacuum tube, and that's a big open flow so we'll just take those electrons instead of the ones that have to squeeze through a tight resistor to get there.

That explanation is probably a bit hard to follow because I'm over here trying to explain it based on how the electrons are actually getting pulled around. In the world of electronics everyone decided to just pretend the flow is going the other way because it makes stuff easier to follow. So pretend we have magical positrons that go the other way and if they have nothing better to do they go down the path where we have all the fun stuff further down the circuit lighting lights and all that even though it's a tight squeeze through a resistor, because there's a yucky double negative in the triode and that's worse, but we have the switch rigged up to make that a nice positive go signal to the resistance free promised land with a bonus booster to cut across, so we're just gonna go that way when the grid signal's connected.

Oh and you can make other sorts of logic circuits or double up on them in a single tube if you add more grids and such, which we did for a while, but not really relevant these days.

Cool history lesson but I know there's no relays or vacuum tubes in my computer.

Right, so the above things are how we used to make computers, but they were super bulky, and you'd have to deal with how relays are super loud and kinda slow, and vacuum tubes need a big power draw and get hot. What we use instead of either of those these days are transistors. See after spending a good number of years working out all this circuit flow stuff with vacuum tubes we eventually focused on how the real important thing in all of this is how with the right materials you can make a little juncture where current flows between a positive and negative charge if a third wire going in there is also positively charged, but if it's negatively charged we're pulling over. And turns out there is a WAY more efficient way of doing that if you take a chunk of good ol' middle of the electron road silicon, and just kinda lightly paint the side of it with just the tiniest amount of positive leaning and negative leaning elements on the sides.

Really transistors don't require understanding anything new past the large number of topics already covered here, they're just more compact about it. Positive leaning bit, negative leaning bit, wildcard in the middle, like a vacuum tube. Based on the concepts of pulling electrons around from chemistry, like a circuit in general. The control wire in the middle kinda works in just a pass-fail sort of way, like a relay. They're just really nice compared to the older alternatives because they don't make noise or have moving parts to wear down, you don't have to run enough current through them for metal to start glowing and the whole room to heat up, and you can make them small. Absurdly small. Like... need an electron microscope to see them small.

And of course you can also make an inverter super tiny like that, and a diode (while you're at it you can use special materials or phosphors to make them light emitting, go LEDs!) and resistors can get pretty damn small if you just use less of a more resistant material, capacitors I think have a limit to how tiny you can get, practically, but yeah, you now know enough of the basic fundamentals of how computers work to throw some logic gates together. We've covered how a relay, triode, or transistor function as an AND gate. An OR gate is super easy, you just stick diodes on two wires so you don't have messy backflow then connect them together and lead off there. If you can get your head around wiring up an inverter (AKA NOT), hey, stick one after an AND to get a NAND, or an OR to get a NOR. You can work out XOR and XNOR from there right? Just build 4 NANDs, pass input A into gates 1 and 2, B into 2 and 3, 2's output into 1 and 3, 1 and 3's output into 4 for a XOR, use NORs instead for a XNOR. That's all of them right? So now just build a ton of those and arrange them into a computer. It's all logic and math from there.

Oh right. It's... an absurd amount of logic and math, and I can only fit so many words in a blog post. So we'll have to go all...

CONTINUED IN PART 2!

Meanwhile, again, if you can spare some cash I'd really appreciate it.

#computers #computer science #history #electronics #education #relays #transistors #vacuum tubes

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therethatstar · 5 months ago

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phum and peem are truly so funny.

because phum's type is literally a dude who kicks him in the balls. who side eyes him on the regular. who has a default 'angry kitten' face every time he looks at him. who kisses him after he shows appreciation for his time. who doesn't really talk sweet so phum goes out of his way to reiterate that he normally doesn't like sweets anyways. who continues to 'act' annoyed at phum's presence but will let phum kiss him again and again. who has a specific tone reserved just for phum. who babies the shit out of phum, little does he know he's healing phum's inner child. who is so so so forgiving of phum. who is always ready to listen to phum, to hear him out. who is patience with him. who is more than ready to love phum as he is, so unconditionally. who is willing to figure all of this out together with phum.

and peem's type is essentially a guy who pisses him off. who makes him so angry that he's starting to question his type, because why does he find this guy attractive. who is pretty shitty with words and pull assholes moves too. who is quick to recognize his mistakes and immediately apologize for it. who doesn't excuses his wrongdoings but simply admits that he was wrong. who will continue to say sorry simply because he cares a lot about peem's feelings and he'll do it a million times if that is what it take for peem to forgive him. who is a child at heart despite the tough guy act he tries so hard to put on. who cares a lot about other people but doesn't quite know how to show it. who thinks people probably only stick around him because of money so it becomes his first resort to offer to people he cares about. who gets childishly jealous but will never actually admit it. who is quite bold with his words but also immediately gets shy and insecure about them. who retreats back into his shell the moment he lets that insecurity takes over. who goes completely soft for peem under EVERY circumstances. who is willing to put himself out of his elements just so he can spend more time with peem. who always tells peem that he enjoys spending time with him. who keeps repeating to peem that he values peem's times. who fucks up at time but is always willing to learn and to be better. who just wants to be whatever the best version of himself that he can be because peem deserves no less than that.

but also…. both of them would rather jump of a cliff first and maybe chew on glass a few time before they will verbally express their feelings for each other. they’re down to just keep making out tho. and down to maybe probably most definitely cuddle all night in a room full of their friends. because they’re totally and certainly not gay for each other and DEFINITELY aren’t like head over heels in love with each other or anything. pff.

idk. they're just very neat to me. and they're so entirely perfect for each other. and i can't fucking believe a gmmtv romcom is making me feel THIS much about two fictional characters.

#we are #we are the series

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rosemaeridream · 7 months ago

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Blood Orange Bitch | (M)

Mature content (18+)

not-so-vanilla!aeri x killer!fem reader

warnings: knifeplay, blood, knives, maiming? or is it just injuring, dom!reader, bdsm elements - see: KNIFEPLAY. reader murders people off screen and terrorises aeri on it, established relationship, kink discovery, blood... eating... idk what else to warn y’all about… oh right THERE ARE KNIVES.

A/N: sorry this took so long, i’m not usually into knives. also sorry that i’m only capable of writing about aeri at the moment i promise to get onto my other girlies

word count: 2.4k

At first she just thinks it’s your muscles, y’know? You’re both gym rats, and it’s not like she’s switched gyms and started working out in the morning just to salivate over the contour of your biceps while you use the LAT machine or sneak glances at your thighs straining to hit your 18th rep during your last set on the leg press. Definitely not. And it’s definitely not like she loves it when you come home, sweat beading off your chest and dripping down over your sports bra. It just makes her kinda horny. Sue her for being attracted to her own girlfriend.

So she just thinks she’s into fitness. On herself and on other people too. Maybe she just wants to be manhandled by someone for once. Picked up and thrown on a bed or held down or something. She hadn’t figured out the specifics yet and she wasn’t about to tell you without making sure that that was what she wanted.

Then she sees you covered in blood. It puts a slight strain on your relationship. At first she thinks it’s your own, almost sprinting out of her room to go check up on you. But she hesitates. You’re not in pain, not screaming or crying. Just walking back into the house, wiping blood off your brow so it doesn’t drip into your eyes.

You make it to the hallway leading to the bedrooms before you make eye contact with her. Aeri’s eyes widen ever so much and her breathing picks up. She’s nervous. It’s obvious to you, of course. You have a sense for people when they’re frightened.

Except you’re wrong. Aeri’s trying to figure out something to say, but the throbbing of her clit is not helping her think. Not a bit.

And fuck. The metallic smell of blood tickling her nose and the hardening of your eyes sends tingles fizzing up the back of her spine and straight to her head.

You probably think she’s woozy at the sight of blood, maybe at the knowledge that you have someone else’s blood on you. But Aeri doesn’t think about it too long because her door is slammed shut before you can even open your mouth. She buries herself in her sheets so she can get the thought of your bloodied hands leaving stains across her stomach and thighs.

Aeri avoids you for a week after. It’s funny, because she’s sure you think it’s because she’s scared of you. Of what the blood means. Who’s blood is it? What did you do?

Definitely not because she’s scared of herself. Of what being horny over blood means. Of having dreams where you dance a knife across her skin, every breath of hers stilted so it doesn’t make an incision and then wake up with a dampness between her legs.

She’s curious at heart, so she puts her figurative detective hat on and starts to sift through article after article in the news. At first, she thinks she’s crazy. Maybe she was imagining the blood, the hardened look you sent her before she slammed the door closed. But then it all unfurls like a moth eaten blanket.

Aeri almost takes it to the police. It’s her duty, right? But then ever so slowly, she comes around to the idea.

It’s dumb, right? You’ve killed at least three people going by the connections in the smallest details. But it’s not like they were gold star, moral-to-a-fault people. She’s sure you weren’t overly cruel to them in death either. Maybe just a little maiming and scratching and trailing a sharpened blade across some squirming skin to cut long incisions in their chest and stomach, the coolness of the blade mixing with the heat of the pain. So Aeri pretends like it's normal. Like she’s not staring at the kitchen knives every time she passes by, imagining you holding it to her throat. Everything is normal. The relationship is normal, the sex is normal, she’s normal. Vanilla.

She forces it to be normal, until she’s naturally slotted back between your legs as you watch a movie. Or watching you cook in the kitchen while she scrolls through her phone.

Aeri’s seen you with knives before. Aeri’s seen your muscles before. She’s seen you use your muscles and knives to cook before. So why is the thought of the knife marking your initials into her thigh or her stomach or her chest the only thing on her mind? You’re talking away like it’s nothing and she’s trying so hard not to leave a wet spot on the kitchen stool she’s sitting on.

“Anyway, so he’s like ‘ahh you can’t fucking catch me, psycho!’, and then he falls into a pit. Great scene by the way, especially when…” She should be listening. Except that you’re naturally swinging the knife around as you talk, gesturing with it like you would a pen. And God, she can’t take her eyes off it.

You’re talking about some slasher flick you saw with your friend the other day, it’s ironic considering that she still hasn’t spoken to you about the whole blood-murderer-knife thing. And the other knife thing. Besides the point – the horror movie talk isn’t helping either.

Aeri keeps nodding and humming a yes whenever you pause, just to keep you talking. Until she hears nothing and you’re not on the other side of the bench anymore.

Fuck.

You press her to the counter, the blunt edge of the kitchen knife cold against her throat.

“You haven’t been listening to me at all, baby.” Your voice is as cold as the steel and you lean in close to her face, making sure that she’s all ears. Aeri shakes her head as much as she can with a knife to her throat, still not registering that you haven’t got the sharp side on her skin.

“Fear and arousal can be very, very similar. Don't cha think?”

Aeri stammers out some kind of answer that she doesn’t even process, her breathing accelerating along with her heartbeat. It’s too real and not real enough at the same time. The menacing narrow of your eyes taking their time to study every single detail of her face before dipping lower to focus on the pressure of the knife.

Just the tiniest amount of force is applied and Aeri slips, letting out a moan she can’t take back. She watches your lips quirk, the knowledge reaped from her expressions and noises letting you in on a secret she didn’t want you to know.

“Are you scared, Aeri?” Slowly, the blade is flipped, taunting her. The sharpened edge, one she watched you prepare with a whetstone, making sure it was fit to glide through any piece of meat possible, tickling the peach fuzz of her neck.

She doesn’t shake her head this time, knowing that even if she swallowed, there’d be a trail of blood to show. Aeri’s breath hitches as you start to apply equal pressure along the blade, until you move it to drag down her neck, much like a whetstone.

You haven’t nicked her skin yet and Aeri knows you’re doing it on purpose. She’s being treated like a trophy kill, played with like a cat leaving a dead rat at the door and the only thing her brain is telling her, is that she wouldn’t mind being mounted against a wall by you.

The knife trails lower, stopping at the collar of her top, drawing out whimpers and half-hushed gasps. Then you roughly gather the cotton in your hands, holding it taught so you can pass the blade through the fabric, slicing it down til it hangs loose and exposes her bra to you. Aeri watches you move the blade until it's pointed right at her sternum, the tip sharp enough for her skin to bead blood.

“Did you know that you live for about 10 minutes after being stabbed in the heart?” Your eyes flash with sadistic pleasure as Aeri flinches against the pain. “If it’s done right, the heart should stop beating immediately and poor little Aeri is left with no oxygen to her brain.”

Aeri should be scared. She should be trying to dial emergency services with the phone clutched in her hand. She should be doing anything other than getting her panties wet. Now that the knife has left her throat she can swallow and breathe (and moan) to her heart's content, awarding you with a pink flush to her cheeks and chest, which you notice immediately.

“You’re not scared. Are you, baby?” The tip digs deeper into her skin, blood beginning to drip on her bra and stain her tattered top. Your tone is rough and it makes her step back, the bench hurting her lower back more than the knife against her chest.

“Are you?”

“No.” She whimpers, her chest rising and falling rapidly, every movement shifting the knife and deepening the cut. The bite of the blade forces another gasp from her as she tries to shift away and her phone drops from her hand, hitting the floor with a clatter. You duck down to study her incision, your breath fogging up the steel before you pull back and flick it upwards, the bloodied tip now parallel to her mouth. “Lick it.”

The blade drips with blood, sliding down the side until it gets to the hilt and seeps over your thumb. The sight makes her skin crawl. That’s her blood. Aeri’s blood.

“You’re staring at it like you want it.” You taunt, angling the blade forward until it hovers over her lips. She swallows, averting her gaze like she wasn’t just entranced by the scarlet of her own blood.

“Don’t you want it, Aeri? Have a taste of yourself. I promise it's sweeter than it looks.”

Aeri’s weaker and much more pliable than she thought. She doesn’t even think twice once she opens her mouth to lap the knife. You turn it so she can only lick the flat of the blade — at least you’re gracious enough to let her have that. Your eyes meet as your breath matches hers, laboured and long.

The taste is sweeter than she thought. It’s not comparable to jam or ketchup with too much bitterness and tang but it wasn’t gut-retching. Maybe you were right.

“Such an obedient girl.” You purr after she licks the knife clean. A moan escapes Aeri as you reach for her chin, holding it in between your index and your thumb, making sure she can’t turn away.

“You know, I thought you were nothing special in bed. Just a plain vanilla bitch.” Aeri squirms under your gaze, bracing her hands against the countertop. The flat of the knife pats her cheek as you chuckle to yourself.

“God, I was so fucking wrong. You’re a freak!”

She whimpers, shaking her head a little now that the knife isn’t pointed towards her. Frankly, she doesn’t know why she’s denying it, she’s dripping and panting and too close to cumming it’s embarrassing.

“I’m no-”

Her words are cut off by your already harsh grip on her chin getting tighter.

“You are. You’re anything but vanilla.”

There’s a sick pleasure in your eyes. For a moment she plays with the idea that if this keeps up, you might stop your ‘late night habits’ – or maybe it’s a poorly concealed attempt to hide that she wants more of this. So much more.

You snap her chin towards the knife, letting the blade turn til her cheek has a thin line of blood blooming and slowly gathering to trail down to her jaw. It isn’t deep enough to leave a mark, the equivalent of a papercut but when you press the flat of the knife back to her cheek, it feels like it burns.

Tears prick Aeri’s eyes as she fails to stop you once more. It’s getting to her, the pain, the humiliation. She can’t stop you and she can’t stop the aching of her cunt. If she knew you’d let her, she’d shove her hands down her pants right then and there, getting off on the faint marks you’ve already bestowed upon her.

“Up.” You tap the counter with your free hand. Aeri pushes herself up without a word. She knows you can slaughter her without the blink of an eye. She’s done her research, figured out where you go at night, why the smell of bleach lingers around you. She knows what you can do with that knife.

But seriously, at this point she doesn’t care. You’re already treating her like prey – why can’t she enjoy it too?

“You’re not much of a killer.” At first, her voice tremors, then somehow she pulls the audacity out of her ass to taunt you back even when she’s dripping blood from two separate locations. “You can’t even hurt me properly.”

Aeri can tell that she’s pissed you off and it’s exhilarating. The knife dips back to the valley of her breasts, following its journey down to the centre of her bra.

“You’re lucky I don’t want to blunt my knife on the underwire.” You murmur before letting gravity take control, guiding the blade plunging down until it stops a millimetre from her thigh. Aeri can’t stop herself from tensing, ready for the pain. When it doesn’t come, she practically whines in frustration.

You’re such a tease.

“Not vanilla. Maybe… chocolate?” Your head tilts to the side and Aeri has no clue what you’re planning.

Slowly, you let the blade touch her thigh, pushing up and under her skirt. Thank fuck for the skirt – as hot as it is for you to do this, Aeri doesn’t want her favourite clothes ruined.

You chuckle when her leg twitches but Aeri barely notices, her head is already buzzing from anticipating your moves – the cut on her cheek stings, keeping her from completely giving into you.

She’s paying way too much attention to the pain and not enough on your actions because suddenly there’s a sharp pinch to her clit and the flaring slice of steel against her thigh. Aeri has to grab onto your neck just to stay upright, her mouth parted and eyes closing as she begins to pant.

The blade scratches into her thigh and her nails scratch the back of your neck. Not exactly 1:1 but close enough for Aeri to get a kick out of it. Besides, the fingers sliding through her folds and stimulating her clit is enough to make the pain turn into pleasure.

It’s like a cutie mark, she notes. Except the lines slowly carve out to be your initials and Aeri practically comes at the feeling. She shudders, moaning wantonly – the knife isn’t deep enough to scar permanently, it’s not deep enough.

“Maybe not chocolate. Too common. Orange chocolate, maybe.” She can barely even hear your voice through her heavy breathing.

Aeri wails when she feels you mark two little dots to the initials her skin, effectively marking her as yours while her orgasm slams into her like a truck on a highway. She’s so completely gone, your fingers tweaking her clit and barrelling her into a second, weaker orgasm.

“A Blood Orange Bitch.” You coo as her hips stutter, grinding into your hand.

It’s too much and the last thing Aeri sees is your pink tongue licking up her blood that’s splattered on your fingers.

NOTE: almost wrote about gi being fucked with the knife’s handle but idk maybe that’s too freaky, even for me, also! might edit this later idk if it's up to my standard :P

i edited a little 🧍‍♀️ accidentally posted a version with a sentence NOT COMPLETED

#!! dreamy’s pieces #giselle x reader #aespa smut #uchinaga aeri x reader #kpop imagines #kpop oneshots #giselle smut #idol x reader #aespa imagines #kpop x reader #aespa x reader #giselle x fem reader #cw: knife

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therealcocoshady · 3 days ago

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Kinktober - Day 18 - Kneeling

Kinktober 2024 Masterlist

A/N : So... Here is the Kinktober episode for the Day 18 "Kneeling" prompt. It also happens to be a sequel to the Day 3 "Pet play" prompt. It is not necessarily smutty but it might actually be one of my kinkiest works so far... Anyway, I hope you enjoy it. And that you don't judge me too much either.

CW : BDSM - D/S Relationship - Kneeling

Before the « pet play » bet, you thought your life would go back to normal after you were done. Except it didn’t. There were a couple of reasons for that. First of all, you had found yourself finding the experience rather enjoyable. There was something about surrendering control to someone else. In your everyday life, you wear the kind of person who tried to stay on top of everything, often to the point of exhaustion. Allowing Marshall to take control over the simplest things had proved to be soothing. It had quieted the noise in your brain in a way you never thought would be possible. You never thought you’d be able to allow someone to boss you around, let alone find it enjoyable. But it was Marshall, someone you’d known for what felt like ages. Someone you were close to and trusted. Maybe he was the one who had managed to turn this into something enjoyable.

You had been almost surprised at how caring he could be. Before that weekend, he’d been the kind of friend you made dumb jokes with, the one who put up with your chaotic energy. But seeing that side of him… it had felt special. He seemed in his element and, though he’d been in control the whole time, the whole thing had been intimate. So intimate, in fact, that it ended with the two of you in bed. The whole thing was meant to be platonic at first but something had shifted. Sure, there had been attraction before, but none of you had acted on it. You’d always told yourself that just because he was attractive didn’t mean it would be a good idea. But that weekend, the chemistry had been evident and you’d felt a shift, some sort of certainty that he might actually be able to handle you. And he proved more than up to the challenge. That night spent together had been amazing. For the first time in years - maybe ever - you had been in a serene headspace. No intrusive thoughts taking over in the middle of the deed, no anxiety, no feeling self-conscious… and actual pleasure. Unlike previous partners, that man had actually focused on you, attentive to each one of your reactions, able to interpret every moan, every whimper.

For some reason, you had always thought he’d be the kind to be selfish in bed but you were happy to say that he proved you wrong. The whole night, he dedicated himself to pleasuring you. You had lost counts of your orgasms and, if you were honest, the night was kind of blurry. You mostly remembered the grounding feeling of his hand on your chest and him calling you a good girl. In the following days, the memory of these two words, spoken softly in his husky voice had kept you warm. His tone echoed through your mind and one thing was for sure : you wanted more of whatever it was that had made you feel so good.

However, the next time you saw Marshall, it became clear that it was easier for him to go back to the way things were. You were hanging out with your group of friends and he greeted you as usual, made small talk the way he always had, and joked around as if nothing had happened. It almost broke your heart. You thought you had both felt that chemistry, but obviously, you were wrong. You were a little gutted, if you were honest. The way he had cupped your cheek right before saying goodbye the morning you left his place, right after a passionate night, had made you feel like he’d definitely want it to happen again. And you absolutely thought he’d make a move, a few weeks later, when he invited you to his place so that you could actually read his prized comic book. He did no such thing. A couple of weeks in, you were resigned : it had been a one time thing. And if you wanted to explore more, you’d have to look for someone else. You were a little intimidated by it, at first, but one evening, after a couple of glasses of wine, you got online and searched for more information. You quickly went down the rabbit hole and ended up spending two days browsing subreddits, before eventually signing up for some social media website that allowed people to connect over BDSM-related stuff. The idea was to connect with people from your area, with whom you might give it a try, but you couldn’t actually bring yourself to take part to the conversations going on there. You were very much an introvert and, though you’d given online dating a try, it seemed like adding a kinky component to it was too much for your nerves to handle. You were sure that you’d enjoy exploring submission further, that finding a dom would help quiet the noise in your head. After all, Marshall had done it. But the people putting listings online, advertising that they were looking for a submissive, made it seem like it required some ivy league-level qualifications. And though Marshall had done a pretty decent job explaining the basics to you, you didn’t feel like you had what it takes. You were ready to give up on the idea when you came across a post promoting a « networking » event in Detroit, in some underground club you’d never heard of. You considered going but, once again, anxiety took over. And it wasn’t exactly as if you could ask a friend to come with you. Unless…

You mustered up the courage of asking Marshall a few days later, while you were hanging out at his place with a couple of other friends. He went to the kitchen to grab a drink and you decided to follow him, in order to have some privacy. « So… Do you have any plans for next weekend ? » you asked innocently as he grabbed a Red Bull from the fridge. « Nothing definite, yet. Why ? » he replied with a raised eyebrow. « Well, there is, um, a thing, and I’m thinking of going, but I’m not sure and it’s kind of- I was actually wondering if you’d come with me. But, you know, if you have plans, that’s fine. » you nervously babbled. God, you felt ridiculous. You were a grown woman, trying to connect with people over kinky shit and there you were, asking your fiftysomething year-old friend to basically hold your hand because you were nervous. « what thing ? » he asked, obviously not getting what you were referring to. In his defense, you had done a pretty bad job at getting your point across. « An event » you replied. « What event ? » he asked again before taking a sip of his drink. « it’s a… um… well I suppose you could say it’s a munch » you almost whispered. He stared at you silently for a couple of seconds and you felt compelled to elaborate. « I wanted to meet a… well you know, a dom, but it’s so nerve-wracking and I figured maybe having someone who’s been there before would help » you hummed. He kept on staring at you, without so much as blinking and definitely adding to your nervousness. « But, well, maybe going there with a friend wouldn’t be a good look… I mean, I haven’t exactly researched the etiquette or dress code of these events so, I don’t know, really… » you eventually said. The remark made him chuckle and he gave you a smile, as well as a reassuring squeeze of your shoulder. « First of all, breathe. Also, how about we talk about it later, after everyone leaves ? » he said calmly. You swallowed dryly and nodded.

For the next two hours, you stayed mostly silent. Maybe asking him to go with you was a mistake. Maybe he thought that you giving this whole thing a try was stupid. He was one of your closest friends but you knew he could sometimes turn into a judgy prick. As the others left, you remained on the couch, nervously biting your lip. He came to sit on a chair opposite from you. « So… you want to go to a munch » he said with a smirk. You nodded, though you avoided his gaze. « Well I tried signing up on a website to meet people but… it’s absolutely terrifying. And I thought that a munch might be better but I think that’s even worse » you admitted. He calmly nodded. « You’re too anxious » he said matter-of-factly. « I mean… yeah. It’s nerve-wracking, you know ? » you replied and he nodded. « So, um, how do you meet people ? » you asked. He gave you a smile and leaned back in his chair. « Well, not at munches » he chuckled. « I mean, obviously, I can’t take the risk of someone spotting me in that kind of event » he explained. « I didn’t think about that. I shouldn’t have asked… » you started but he cut you. « Don’t worry about it. Well… I met my first sub kind of randomly. Then I gave the online thing a try but I didn’t really like it so now I use a service » he explained. You raised an eyebrow. « a service ? » you asked. « Basically a matchmaker » he shrugged. You hummed, thinking to yourself that it made sense. After all, you knew how anxious he could get about going places and, since he wasn’t a big fan of technology, opting for a matchmaking service made sense. « So… how does it work ? » you asked with a hint of curiosity, wondering if maybe you should look into something similar. « I give my requirements and if they have someone that fits the bill, they take care of the whole thing for me. NDA, meeting… then, I can do my own vetting. » he explained calmly and you nodded. And before you could even talk, he answered your question. « That type of service caters to experienced people, though » he warned. You hummed and he could immediately sense the disappointment. He placed his drink on the coffee table and stared at you. « Anyway. Back to you… you’re looking for a dom » he stated. « Do you know what you’re looking for exactly ? ».

You stayed silent for a couple of seconds and shrugged nervously. « I’d like to give it a try. You know, when we made that bet, I didn’t expect to enjoy it, but… I did. Not the pet aspect but being guided. So, I thought I’d … explore. » you said quietly. As you spoke, you could see something change in his eyes, some sort of interest. « what did you like ? » he asked in a low voice. « I felt… oddly at peace. As if the noise in my head disappeared. And…I didn’t mind having someone directive in bed » you admitted. He let out a low chuckle and smiled at you. « How about having someone being directive out of bed ? » he asked with a grin. « well, I suppose my boss wouldn’t mind me being better at following orders » you said with a shy smile. « I see » he hummed. The way he looked at you, as if he could see inside your mind, had your heart racing. Mentioning what had happened weeks ago, how it made you feel, had you feeling nervous. « I guess I’m just scared I might not feel as safe with someone else » you admitted. « Why look for someone else then ? » he asked with a slight smirk. You stared at him, almost dumbfounded. « Well, I- you didn’t- I mean… I assumed you would have offered if- you know » you nervously babbled. He let out a small scoff and got up, before sitting next to you. « all you had to do was ask » he said softly. « Easier said than done » you pointed out as you looked down. He smiled and placed a reassuring hand on your knee. « Y/N, it’s me. You know I don’t bite. The worse that could have happened is me declining. » he said gently and you nodded, still looking down. « The reason I didn’t offer anything is because I didn’t want to turn what happened to my advantage » he explained. « But… you enjoyed it ? » you asked. « you know I did » he scoffed. You nodded again as memories of that weekend came to mind. You remembered the way he kissed you, the way he took the lead in the bedroom, guiding you, taking control while always making sure you were alright. « So… would you… be interested ? » you asked in almost a whisper. « Interested in ? » he asked with a smile. You sighed and looked at him dead in the eyes. He knew what you meant and you knew it as well. « I think it’s important that you learn to use your words. Say what you mean. Ask for what you want. » he added with a smirk. You rolled your eyes at him. « Would you be interested in showing me more… sir ? » you asked as you looked into his eyes. He let out a chuckle and eventually nodded. « Yeah. We could give it a try » he hummed. « you free next weekend ? ».

You gave him a smile, reassured to know that he had enjoyed your weekend together as much as you did and was willing to explore it further. « I am. I’m also free tomorrow though » you said innocently, making him chuckle and shake his head. « Can’t, tomorrow. Also, I’ll need to prepare stuff. But come next weekend and I’ll show you… more » he said with a warm smile.

Next weekend couldn’t come fast enough. But when it did, you were both nervous and excited. Beforehand, Marshall had texted you to confirm that you were still up for it, and gave you a few packing instructions. So far, nothing kinky. He just told you to pack your toiletries, meds, pajamas, an outfit you felt comfortable in and another one that was dressier - preferably a dress with high heels. When you arrived at his place, he greeted you with a hug and led you to the dining room. « So, this weekend is going to be a little different from what we did last time » he warned. « Obviously, for the sake of the bet, we kept it simple and easy last time. But this time, you’re going to get a better picture of what being a sub is like. Meaning that it’s not going to be me taking care of you. I mean, I will, that’s part of my job as a dom. But as a sub, you’re going to serve me. » he explained. You nodded and waited for further instruction. « Obviously, both of us have the right to stop everything at any moment. But since today is about showing you more, I thought I would do what I usually do with the subs I’m vetting, so I’ll put you to work right away. That’s ok with you ? » he asked. You nodded again, though this time, you felt a knot in your stomach. You weren’t quite sure what he meant by ‘putting you to work’. He got up and grabbed an envelope that was already on the table, before handing it to you. « Your first assignment will be pretty simple : paperwork. There’s an NDA I’m going to need you to sign. Obviously, we’re friends and I trust you, but this is standard procedure for everyone I’m seeing, so subs are no exception. There’s also forms I want you to fill in. Take your time and come to the movie room when you’re done. And feel free to come if you have any questions, ok ?» he added. He got up and quietly stared at you as you started to inspect the paperwork. Before leaving the room, he cupped your face and gave you a smile.

You quickly read the NDA before signing it. You didn’t give it too much thought. If anything, you were fine with paperwork protecting the both of you. Of course, the consequences of anyone discovering what you were up to would be disastrous for his reputation but, even though you weren’t a public figure, you didn’t exactly want anyone to know you were involved in something BDSM-related. Especially not with one of your closest friends. For some reason, signing the NDA made it clear in your mind that you were crossing a line in your friendship. And it became even clearer as you glanced at the forms. It was basically a spreadsheet you needed to fill, regarding what you were ok with, what you’d experienced before, as well as your limits (both hard and soft). The least you could say is that the whole thing was rather detailed. You took your time to fill everything, doing some occasional googling on your phone when you needed clarification regarding some of the practices listed. You felt a little apprehensive at the idea that Marshall would be seeing this. Of course, it made sense. He had made it quite clear that the whole thing about consent and safety. But the whole form-filling felt both intimate and clinical at the same time. After a while, you went to find him in the movie room, where he was lounging in front of some random TV show. « All good ? » he asked. « Yeah. All good. » you hummed as you handed him the small stack of paper. « That was… Dense. » you observed. He chuckled and nodded. « Told you I was putting you to work. I know it’s not the most fun but that’s an important part » he explained. You nodded and looked at him with eyes full of questions. « So… Do I get to see your checklist too ? » you asked innocently. He shook his head. « No need. What matters is your checklist. I mean, if there’s anything on there that I’m not ok with, even if you said you were fine with it, we won’t do it. But as the dom, it’s my job to tailor the whole thing to you and your needs. Not the other way around. ». He stared at you intently, his gaze conveying a seriousness you didn’t see too often. « But… I don’t get to know what you’re into ? » you asked with a smile and a raised eyebrow. « What you need to know, you will find out soon enough » he assured with a smirk. « But for now, we have something else to focus on. Something important, actually ».

There was a moment of silence. He got up from the couch, paused the TV show and faced you. You were in the middle of the room, which was dimly lit, with shadows that danced across the walls. Just like the rest of his house, it felt cozy and luxurious. You’d been there so often that, most of the time, you weren’t even aware of your surroundings. But now, you seemed to notice every detail. Your heart was racing in your chest. Marshall placed a gentle hand on your shoulder. « Kneel for me, please » he ordered quietly. You stared at him for a second before doing as you were told. You knelt at the center of the room, your knees pressing into the soft carpet beneath you. He gently directed you, ordering you to rest your palms on your things and keep your head down. You could feel your fingers tremble slightly and you tried your best to steady your breathing. You could hear him pace behind you, his presence filling the room. You had both agreed that this weekend would be some sort of training, an opportunity for you to see more. Your thoughts were swirling in anticipation. You had no idea what was coming next but you trusted him. Finally, he spoke, his voice low and commanding, cutting through the stillness like a blade.

« Kneeling is more than just a position, Y/N, » Marshall said, stepping into your line of sight, his eyes fixed on you. « It’s a reminder of who holds the power, of who’s in control. » Your breath caught in your throat. His voice alone made you feel small, not in a way that diminished you, but in a way that made you aware of how much you were surrendering to him. It wasn’t just about kneeling—it was about giving yourself over to him completely, about letting go of your own control. Marshall crouched down in front of you, his eyes meeting yours for the first time. There was a seriousness in his gaze, but also a hint of something else—something that spoke of patience, of care. « When you kneel for me,” he continued, “it’s not just a physical act. It’s a symbol of trust. You’re giving me your submission, and in return, I’m giving you my protection, my guidance. Do you understand that? »

You nodded, your throat tight. « Yes… Sir, » you whispered, voice trembling slightly. He tilted his head, watching you carefully, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips, though the serious frown remained. « Words are easy, Y/N. I need to know you feel it. That you believe it. » Your gaze faltered for a moment, your mind racing. You had wanted this—craved the sense of belonging, of purpose—but now that you were here, the weight of it all pressed down on you. You didn’t want to disappoint him. You didn’t want to fail. « Look at me, » he said, his voice softer now. You lifted your eyes to meet his again, and when you did, you saw the intensity in them—the same intensity you saw in him whenever you witnessed him at work, in the studio or on stage, in the lyrics he rapped with fire and conviction. But this wasn’t the Marshall the world knew. This was the man who was about to take you under his control, and the depth of his focus on you was overwhelming. « I need you to remember something, » he said slowly, his hand brushing along your jawline, making you shiver. « When you kneel, it’s a choice. You’re choosing to trust me. You’re choosing to give me control. But once you make that choice, Y/N, you don’t get to question it. You don’t get to doubt it. When you’re down here, at my feet, I am in control. Understand? »

His thumb traced your lower lip, the touch almost tender, and yet it held a kind of power that made your stomach tighten. You felt the weight of his words, of what he was asking of you. It wasn’t just about the physical act of kneeling—it was about giving him your mind, will and obedience. « Yes, Sir, » you whispered again, but this time, there was more certainty in your voice. « Good girl, » he murmured, his eyes never leaving yours. The praise made your heart flutter, warmth spreading through you at his approval. Just like that weekend, weeks ago, when you had played the role of his pet. Marshall stood slowly, towering over you as he resumed pacing, his presence once again commanding the space around you. « When I say kneel, you drop to your knees without hesitation. It doesn’t matter where we are or what you’re doing. When I say the word, you obey. No questions, no second-guessing. » You nodded, your body already responding to the firmness in his voice. You could feel the power shift between you, the way his dominance seeped into every word, every movement. « Right now, you’re learning what it means to submit to me, » he continued, stopping in front of you again. « And I want you to understand something important—this isn’t just about control. It’s about connection. When you kneel, you’re not just giving up your power. You’re giving me something precious. And in return, I take care of you. I help you thrive. »

His words were grounding, filling you with a sense of calm amidst the uncertainty. You weren’t just kneeling for him because he demanded it—you were kneeling because you wanted to. Because you trusted him to quiet the noise in your head. Marshall circled you, his fingers brushing over your shoulder as he passed, sending a shiver down your spine. « Keep your eyes down, » he ordered, and you quickly dropped your gaze to the floor again. He stopped behind you, close enough that you could feel his breath on the back of your neck. « You’re mine, Y/N. When you’re here, in this position, I need you to remember that. You don’t need to think. You don’t need to worry. All you need to do is obey. »

Your pulse quickened at his words, a mixture of anticipation and fear swirling in your chest. You could feel the weight of his dominance pressing down on you, but it wasn’t suffocating. It was freeing. « I’m the one in control, » he said firmly. « And when you’re with me, like this, I will always be in control. Do you trust me with that? » You nodded, your voice soft but certain. « Yes, Sir. » Marshall moved back around to face you, crouching down once more so that your eyes and his were level. His hand cupped your chin, tilting your head slightly upward. « Good. Then let’s begin. »

And with that, you felt the world around you shift. You were no longer just yourself—you were his. Surrendering to him, to his control, was the first step in a new journey and you could feel it.

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