#people are showing their true colors and its disgusting | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

incognit0slut · 1 year ago

Text

A SPECIAL SHOW

Part 3 of kinktober | main masterlist

virgin!spencer x fem!reader; Lingerie, Exhibitionist/voyeur, overstimulation, squirting

No one would’ve guessed you liked to touch yourself in front of billions of people online, except for your roommate, who you thought would be a great addition to your next late-night session.

Words: 6,213

a/n: my kinktober is running late. Oopsss

THERE WAS SOMETHING EXHILARATING ABOUT BEING WATCHED. You reveled in the sensation of being the center of attention. You weren't sure how it started, nor when it started, all you knew was that every Friday night you were always seated—or sometimes laid—in front of your computer. Webcam on, chatroom on, and most importantly, your alter ego was on.

Princess_Pink is online.

It wasn't the most creative name, but it was your initial thought when you made your account. You had always taken a certain liking for the color pink. As for princess... well, there was nothing else to it, you just liked being called that.

Princess.no1.fan: i've been waiting for you!! Adam_4432: hey princess Keaton-bigdick: ready to jerk off to you baby Hardcock69: turn on your cam!

If you told your younger self that you'd be touching yourself in front of horny strangers online, you would've scoffed in disgust. Your past innocent self would definitely look down on your choices, which honestly, something you once had questioned too at one point. But the amount of money increasing in your bank account always stops you from doubting yourself.

It was partly the reason why you were still doing this. Your nine-to-five job wasn't going to cut out the expenses you needed, providing yourself in other ways was the only option. The reason was, yes, you needed the money, that was true. But deep down you were aware of how much you actually enjoyed doing this. If you once thought that these men watching you were disgusting, horny people, then maybe you were just as disgusting as they were.

And somehow you were okay with that.

Horny_BBC: turn your fucking cam on you slut JadenCums: don't talk to her like that JadenCums: she's not going to give us anything if we don't behave Princess.no1.fan: princess pretty please show us your sexy body

You turned your camera on. There it was, your reflection on the screen. Your baby pink lingerie, a silky second skin, clung to every curve, accentuating the elegant contours of your body with its deep neckline plunging gracefully. Your hair cascaded in loose waves, catching the soft lights in your bedroom, and illuminating your smooth skin. A coy, knowing smile played on your lips, revealing a self-assured confidence that was impossible to ignore.

"Hello, boys," you greeted, your voice deep and sultry. "Did you miss me?"

A chorus of replies filled the chatroom and you smiled. You loved the attention they gave you. It was something you never gained in your normal, mundane daily life, and you actually didn't mind it. You liked being the invisible quiet girl sitting at her own desk, minding her own business. But now you were exactly the opposite of that girl and you thrived on the desires that lingered in those who watched you.

But there was still some privacy that you needed to keep because honestly, you didn't want your coworker to know this secret life of yours. You used to wear a fancy mask that looked like it came out from a masquerade ball, but with how technology has developed, you now opted to use a filter that animated your features. It was perfect.

"I had a very rough week," you continued, playing with your hair. "But now that everyone is here..." You leaned forward, showing the soft curves of your cleavage. "...I feel so much better."

Adam_4432: fucking hot Keaton-bigdick: love the dress Keaton-bigdick: love it better on the floor

You giggled. "Patience, boys. You know how this goes. We play a little game along the way." You ran a hand through your hair. "So what game do you think we should play?"

Your eyes traveled along the comments. "Twister? How are we supposed to play that? Oh—Strip poker? That does sound good—wait! Yes! We should do a classic." A smile curled on your lips. "Truth or dare."

Fatcock_777: ok truth or dare princess?

You rolled your eyes. "Truth, duh. We're starting this slow."

You scanned through the comments and picked a question that seemed easy for you to answer.

Pussylicker: have you ever masturbated in public

"I have masturbated in public," you responded, biting your bottom lip teasingly as you looked straight into the camera. "I once touched myself at work because... well, I was desperate. Locked myself inside the bathroom and fucked myself with my fingers, it was so hard keeping quiet."

You then laughed at yourself. "Alright, next question. I'm still choosing truth, by the way."

JadenCums: will you ever bring a guest here? JadenCums: would love to see you getting fucked

This time you wiped your tongue along your lip. The mere thought of having someone else please you who was not yourself, right in front of these strangers online, aroused you in a way you never thought possible. You clenched your thighs together as you imagined yourself in front of the camera while somebody else was here to touch you, to tease you—to��fuck you.

"Bringing somebody else here? Sounds amazing, to be honest," you answered. "But you see, I don't think I know anyone willing to do what I do—"

Bang! Clink. Clink.

You stopped yourself and frowned. A sudden sound vibrated through your room, a jarring clash of clanging and clattering emanated from what seemed to be the kitchen. Your eyes darted toward the noise, curiosity, and concern merging on your face as you attempted to discern its source.

Another clatter followed through, louder than before.

"Wait a minute, boys," you mindlessly said to your audience, your eyes still narrowing on your bedroom door. "I'll be right back."

You quickly turned off your camera and muted your microphone, ignoring the protests thrown in the chat, and rose from your bed. With measured steps, you left the sanctity of your room and ventured into the adjacent kitchen. Your steps halted right at the moment you found your roommate stooping down to retrieve a fallen pan. The metallic clang resonated briefly, then subsided, replaced by the soft rustling of clothes and the muted glow of ambient lighting.

"Spencer?" You called out softly, your voice carrying a note of concern.

He straightened up, holding the pan in his hand. His response was apologetic, a musing note in his voice, "Sorry if I woke you. I couldn't sleep, and I thought drinking something warm could help me relax."

Your eyes wandered to the carton of milk that sat on the counter. "So you decided to make warm milk?"

"Apparently we ran out of tea..."

His voice trailed off as he looked up from the fallen pan, and as he met your gaze, time seemed to slow. His apology hung in the air, a mere whisper, as his eyes found your figure in the soft glow of the kitchen lights. The lingerie you wore, delicate and pretty, cast your curves in a subtle, alluring way.

There was one word to describe your roommate. Cute. He was really cute. If he wasn't so oblivious to your little, innocent crush, you'd already be worshiping the ground he walked on. Maybe you should've told him how you found his habit of dumping facts endearing, but then again, you felt as if he had been avoiding you ever since he found out about your late-night rendezvous with your computer.

Keeping it a secret from your friends, family, and colleagues was easy, you didn't see them often. But keeping it a secret from Spencer, your roommate who you see every day, who bluntly asked why you were whining every Friday night at the exact same time, was hard.

Surprisingly, you thought you'd be appalled by telling him the truth, but something about him made you spill out what you had been doing behind your bedroom door. He seemed like the type of person who never judged, and he obviously didn't when you told him you were doing it for the money. But even though he accepted your secret without pressing any further, you realized, he had been avoiding you ever since.

For a heartbeat, silence enveloped the room, broken only by the distant hum of the refrigerator. Then he finally tore his gaze away, clearing his throat, attempting to regain his composure. "It's Friday, huh?"

You stepped closer, your bare feet making a soft padding sound on the kitchen floor. "Yeah."

"Well, uh, you can go back to what you were doing. Don't mind me."

You couldn't help but study him with a sense of quiet fascination. There was something utterly captivating about the way he appeared in this unguarded moment, and you couldn't resist your curiosity as you observed his relaxed, almost nonchalant demeanor.

Your eyes trailed over him. The lower half of his body was swathed in loose-fitting pajama pants, their fabric patterned with a subdued design. The shirt he wore was equally unpretentious, and its well-worn, soft texture cradled his upper body loosely. His hair seized your attention next. It was disheveled and slightly tousled, its tips barely touching his shoulders.

Yet, it was his hands that captivated you the most. His hands were notably broad, his fingers long and deft. The veins that traced along the back of his hands were what had you staring further, and as you caught the way they flexed whenever he moved between the narrowed space, you wondered what it would feel like to have them on you.

And now the question from earlier kept on repeating in your head. Will you ever bring a guest here? If you had to choose someone else to please you, your answer would definitely be him.

"Hey, Spence?" He looked at you, and under the intense scrutiny of his gaze, your nerves tightened their grip on you. You quickly shook your head. "Never mind."

"No—wait. What is it?"

"It's nothing, just forget it."

He took a step forward, closing the gap between you. "Tell me what you were about to say."

It was now or never, at least, that was what you kept convincing yourself. You then braced for the question that had been lingering on the tip of your tongue. "How do you feel about joining me?"

You noticed the frown forming on his face. "Joining you?"

"Yes, for my stream." The baffled look he gave you made you explain yourself further. "You don't have to be naked! And if you must know, I use this cute filter to hide my face in a way, but if you don't like that, you can be completely anonymous. I'll make sure your face is out of the frame."

You wanted to kick yourself. The silence that came after your proposition was gnawing at you, almost as if it was mocking your brassness. This was Spencer Reid, the hot-shot FBI agent you lived with who had been avoiding you for the exact reason, and you were now inviting him to join you? What on earth were you thinking?

"See? This is stupid. Forget I said anything—"

"What do I have to do? If... if I don't have to be naked."

You blinked, caught by surprise for a moment, and then your lips curved into a coy smile. He was interested.

"You can play with me."

You took a step forward.

"Touch me."

You took satisfaction in the way his eyes lowered down your body.

"Please me." Your eyes bore into him, liking the way they turned a shade darker as he kept staring at your cleavage. "Who knows? Maybe you'll be able to sleep after this."

His eyes swept along the expansion of your neck before they met your gaze. "Just... touch you? That's it?"

"That's it," you confirmed. You wanted to ease the tension, so you joked with a playful grin, "I'll split the money with you from this stream."

Spencer softly chuckled, the tension easing from his shoulders. "No, keep it. People pay to watch you, not me."

"So is that a yes?"

He exhaled a deep breath. "...yeah?"

It was really happening. Before he could regret his decision, you quickly reached for his hand and guided him to your room. He followed you quietly, and when you pulled him in, his eyes swept across your personal space, taking in the predominant color palette of pink that seemed to envelop the space with a cozy, feminine charm.

The heart of your room was undoubtedly your computer setup, strategically placed directly in front of your bed. There was a small camera perched on top of the screen and a professional mic placed to the side, and to be completely honest, the sight of everything was starting to intimidate him.

"I need to tell you something," he softly began. "This is my first time doing this."

You gently squeezed his hand. "I'd be surprised if you've ever done this before. You're not even on social media."

"No, I mean—" He turned you around to face him. "I've never touched someone... intimately."

"Really?" Your eyes shot up as you noticed the way he emphasized the word. "Wait, Spencer... are you a virgin?"

There was a pause as he searched your eyes hesitantly. "Does it make me weird if I told you I am?"

Somehow that didn't surprise you, since you never actually saw him taking an interest in relationships, so your response was swift. "No. You're always weird regardless," you quipped, dissipating the tension with a teasing grin. "I'm kidding."

He smiled, although his question still lingered in the air, and he shifted the focus back to you again. "Do you still want me here?"

"I should be asking you that question, silly. Are you fine with all this?"

To your surprise, his response was affirmative. "Surprisingly, yes, I am."

"Then there's nothing to worry about."

He still looked nervous though, and without putting much thought into it, you closed the distance and stood on your tiptoes. Your hands softly held his jaw, and the moment you pressed your lips onto his, a sound of satisfaction erupted from his chest.

You sighed in contentment as you felt his hands sliding around your waist, holding you closer as you moved your lips against his. The kiss was slow and lazy, yet the sensation of it traveled along your body, leaving you almost breathless as you felt his tongue teasing your entrance. A moan slipped out of you as you buried your hands in his hair, tugging onto the strands desperately as your tongues collided with one another in a delicate trance.

Your lips on his were hot, soft, settling, and wet, pulling onto each other for more and when you finally stopped, his eyes were closed, heavily exhaling, his hair ruffled, and he looked like the prettiest mess ever.

"W- What was that for?" He whispered, still in his dazed state.

"Setting the mood." You slowly pulled away and walked over to your bed, sitting at the edge of it, positioning yourself back in front of your computer. "For someone who has never had sex, you sure know how to kiss."

He collected himself and looked at you as if you had offended him. "I've kissed other people before."

"I can tell." You then narrowed your eyes at him. "Alright, you ready?"

"I..." He took a tentative step forward. "I think so."

With practiced efficiency, you started up the stream again. The moment you turned on your microphone and camera, almost immediately, comments began flooding in. The chat scrolled rapidly. You let a mischievous smile tug at the corner of your lips as your eyes flicked to the monitor.

"Hey, everyone, sorry for leaving you so suddenly. But I guess this is your lucky day... because I have someone joining me tonight!" A chorus of excited responses flooded the chatroom and you giggled at the enthusiasm they were giving you. "Oh my, didn't know you guys really wanted a guest over here."

Pussylicker: fuck yeah Princess.no1.fan: don't know if I should be excited or jealous Adam_4432: gonna fuck my cock watching you Fatcock_777 sent a $100 gift

Easy money, you thought to yourself, and by the way Spencer's eyes went wide, he also caught the amount of money sent to you when you were barely doing anything. "They give you that much for saying that?"

You couldn't help but laugh at his innocence. "Spe—" You stopped as his name almost slipped out your mouth. You cleared your throat and quickly corrected yourself. "Babe, they can hear you."

The pale complexion of his skin accentuated the subtle blush that tinged his cheeks, a result of either your affectionate tone or his embarrassment over his unfamiliarity with the situation. "Oh." He stared at your computer screen with uncertainty, his gaze filled with hesitation. "Right."

You urged him to come closer with your hand. "Come here, pretty boy."

He cast a fleeting glance in your direction, prompting an eye-roll as you observed his clumsy approach towards you. You eyed the camera and addressed your audience, "He's a little shy, please be nice to him."

As soon as he entered the camera frame, the comments section buzzed with curiosity. Many viewers wondered about the identity of this mysterious man, who happened to appear just as someone questioned a potential guest on the stream. Most of the other comments were positive, stating how excited they were, but a few of them disturbed you when they mentioned Spencer's physical appearance and how 'this fucking twig' didn't deserve to touch you.

You quickly guided your mouse to block them.

"I told you to be nice," you emphasized, your voice carrying a subtle edge. "I don't tolerate any form of harassment."

Spencer, seemingly oblivious, frowned at you. "What did you do?"

"Kicking disrespectful people out," you answered for him. Then, directing your attention towards him, you rose from your bed and gestured to the empty space. "Sit here."

He followed your instructions, settling onto the soft mattress as you adjusted your camera at a lower angle, making sure his face remained hidden from view. When you were satisfied, you instructed him to scoot back, which he happily obliged, because how couldn't he? He was captivated by what was happening.

Spencer never thought he would have his lower half on display—albeit still fully clothed—in front of thousands of people online. Yet here he was, sitting right in front of a camera, watching you as you slipped your knee between his thighs, urging him to part his legs. Nervous energy pulsed through him as he found himself in such close proximity to you, especially when you started to kneel right between him, clutching his shoulders as you steadied yourself.

"Someone dared me to show my cute panties," you mused, and even when you were addressing yourself to the stream, your eyes were locked with his. "Help me show them, babe."

His heart quickened as he looked up at you. "W-what do I do?"

You smiled at him and leaned down, pressing your lips against the shell of his ear, making sure he was the only one to hear you as you whispered, "Play with my ass, Spencer."

His breathing became shallow and erratic. He slowly reached out and put his wide hands on your hips before sliding them along your ass cheeks. He gently kneaded them, squeezing them with the utmost delicacy as if he was holding himself back.

Spencer had always been a gentle person, it was a fundamental aspect of his character, something he had known from the depths of his being. You liked that about him, it differentiated him from all the men you had ever been with. But right now you needed him to touch you with the same urgency you craved. You needed him to let go.

"You can do better than that, pretty boy," you pressed on, brushing your lips along his jawline. "Show the audience what they want."

Something in him switched at that moment. Maybe it was the way you were kissing down his neck. Or maybe it was the way you were pressed against him. Whatever it was, he suddenly felt less inclined to be gentle and, instead, he gripped onto your cheeks with more power. He squeezed them, holding your flesh with so much vigor that you had to hold onto him, burying your face in his neck.

He glanced past your shoulder and caught your reflection. He couldn't believe those were his hands on the screen; touching you, teasing you, pleasing you. You were definitely pleased with the way you kept on squirming against him. It mesmerized him how much you were responding to his simple touch, and now when he knew he could make you sigh in pleasure, he wondered how much more you could react the more he touched you.

Spencer pressed his hands at the back of your thighs before trailing them up your legs. He paused for a moment, hearing the way your breath quickened with anticipation, and smiled to himself when you let out a whimper as he squeezed your flesh again. The hem of your lingerie rode up your hips every time he moved, and your laced panties, with their fabric barely covering your already wet sex, were on display for the audience to see.

Hardcock69 sent you a $100 gift

He cocked an eyebrow, fascinated by how showing a little skin could earn you money. Curiosity took over him, and he let his fingers trail between your flesh before spreading them apart, showing off your wet patch to the camera. You arched your back, pressing your lips into his neck again as your arousal shot through your veins before it pooled right in your center.

Princess.no1.fan sent you a $100 gift

Interesting, Spencer thought, and slipped his fingers between the soft material of your panties before sliding it to the side, exposing your wet skin. His eyes shot up when someone gifted you another hundred dollars, and without much thinking, he brushed the pad of his fingers along your folds, loving the way you whined out a desperate moan right into his ear.

"You're doing great, baby," you told him breathlessly. Hearing your encouragement only made him want to please you even more. He let his middle finger glide along your dripping pussy, mesmerized at how wet you were, and braved himself as he slowly pushed his finger inside you.

He couldn't stop the sound of pleasure erupting from his chest when you squeezed around him. You were so wet, so warm, so incredibly tight. He thrust his finger in and out of you and you mewled, arching your back, grinding your hips toward his touch. And just as you were about to relish the sensation, he abruptly pulled his finger out of you and held you by the hips, gently pushing you off of him.

"Somebody dared you to turn around," he said, licking his lips as his eyes trailed along the front of your body, stopping right at your cleavage.

You smiled, amused that he was actually reading along the comments while touching you. Without saying a word, you got off the bed, your back still facing the camera. Your hands gently slid up your lingerie and you tugged on your panties down your legs, not forgetting to arch your back while doing so, making sure the camera captured the soft curves of your ass.

Spencer watched you intently. He watched the way your body swayed from each movement, appraising the swell of your breasts and the way your nipples pressed against the thin material of your lingerie, slightly teasing him behind the see-through lace. His eyes skimmed along your neck, stopping at your face, taking in the way you were looking at him with half-lidded eyes.

You were so beautiful. His fingers moved almost of their own accord, reaching out as if guided by some unseen force, wanting to touch you further. He rested a hand on your hip while his other hand slipped behind your neck, pulling you closer as he slightly reached out, meeting you halfway in a soft, enchanting kiss.

You melted right into him. His unexpected kiss threw you off as you weren't prepared for how passionate he was exploring your mouth; nipping your bottom lip, softly sucking the flesh as he pushed his tongue into you. He was kissing you as if he couldn't get enough of you, as if the first time he tasted you ignited the passion within him, forcing yourself to surrender to his touch.

As much as you wanted it to last, you pulled away, pressing your forehead against his, completely breathless as if the sheer magnitude of his kiss had stolen the very air from your lungs. "We should... we should keep the show going."

Your words reminded him that you were still being watched. "...Right."

Finally pulling away from him, you turned around and faced your monitor, reading along the comments on the screen. Although the camera didn't capture your kiss, the intimate atmosphere was unmistakable, and many of your followers began speculating about the identity of this mysterious man. They raised questions, even going so far as to wonder if he was your boyfriend.

How you wished that was true.

You shook your head and focused on the other comments, picking up the ones where they were throwing you some dares. One of them insisted for you to spread your legs in front of the camera which was honestly something you plan to do anyway.

So you sat between his legs, pressing your backside against his crotch, and stifled a moan when you felt his cock pressing into you. You could tell how hard he was, how aroused he seemed just by touching you. It was undeniably satisfying to be the one who had evoked such a response from him.

You leaned on his chest, placing your head right in the crook of his neck, and slowly spread your legs apart, finally exposing your flesh. Spencer could feel his slacks tightening, feeling himself going hard at the sight of you. The soft, ambient light in the room played a delicate dance upon your wet skin, accentuating its flawless smoothness. He also realized he wasn't the only one mesmerized by you, the chatroom also seemed to be buzzing with excitement.

Horny_BBC: sweet fucking pussy Horny_BBC: dripping wet JadenCums: holy shit I need to fuck you Pussylicker sent a $100 gift Prince_Casper: I dare you to finger her tight little pussy pretty boy

"I think they dared you to do something, baby," you mentioned, arching your back and spreading your legs wider. But Spencer's attention was somewhere else, most precisely, on your chest. Your nipples were begging for attention and he couldn't help but reach out his hands over the swell of your breasts. He gave them both a gentle, appreciative squeeze, admiring the way they looked in his hands.

"Babe," you whispered, your voice almost coming out as a whimper. "T- That's not what they want."

"But it's what I want," he said absentmindedly, too focused on watching the way his large hands covered your breasts. "They can wait a little longer."

His hands then moved to tug down the straps of your lingerie, your breasts spilling out from the sheer lace material and he groaned at the sight. "You're beautiful," he praised you, earning a soft blush along your cheeks. He palmed them again, watching the fleshy, supple skin contort around his touch. "No wonder everyone loves seeing your body."

Your breath quickened as you felt the sensations intensify, pleasure coursing through your body. "Are you sure you've never touched anyone before?"

He hummed a reply as he pinched your nipples between the calloused pads of his fingers, tugging them from your body as he cherished the gasp that left your lips. Letting go as he watched your breast bounce at the motion before repeating the action, wanting to pull more of those noises from your pretty lips. His eyes glanced over to the screen and smiled in satisfaction when your subscribers gifted you again.

"See? They like these as much as I do," he mentioned, giving your breasts a final squeeze before down your stomach, across the dip of your navel, up and down the thickness of your thighs until he stopped between your legs. Fingers lathered down your slit, feathering at your folds and experimentally teasing around your entrance. He watched himself as he pressed onto your pussy lips, spreading them apart for your viewers to see.

This position wasn't unfamiliar to you, you had spread your legs for the camera countless times, but to have another person touching you overwhelmed you in a way you didn't know possible. And when you thought you couldn't take more of the pleasure building up in your body, he proved you wrong by pressing a finger right onto your clit, making circular motions right on top of it.

You couldn't help but let out a moan louder than you intended to. "Babe..."

You gave into the sensation, watching as his fingers continued their exploration. You could already feel him harden with each steady, rhythmic beat of his heart while his fingers explored you, collecting the slick of your arousal before spreading it along your folds.

Hardcock69: fuck her with your fingers Hardcock69: ruin that sweet little pussy

Spencer didn't have to be asked twice, sliding his middle finger into you. You let out a gasp. "Fuck, baby..." Your eyes were transfixed on the screen as you watched the way his hand flexed, slowly pumping his finger in and out of you before adding another one, stretching your inner walls.

You whimpered as he began to thrust into you and your body jerked involuntarily. Your room was quickly filled with the lewd sound of his fingers plunging in and out of you as he kept a steady pace, fingers rutting into your tight hole, your slick inner walls clenching around him with each thrust. He watched your reflection on screen with curious eyes, catching the way your breath hitched and the way your lips fell split.

His fingers were long and thick, dragging along your walls. The moment of gentleness was suddenly gone when he picked up the pace. The speed turned into a ferocious one as if he was trying to reach deep inside of you and force something out. A reaction. He wanted to force another reaction out of you, more than you were giving to him now.

"That's it—fuck." You gasped, feeling that familiar coil in your stomach. "Don't stop. Don't fucking stop."

He curled his fingers inside of you, making your body jolt. He pressed the palm of his hand on your clit, and with every thrust, his skin rubbed against it. Your hips jerked against him again as a tiny moan escaped your lips, your head slumping against his shoulder.

"Faster," you managed to squeak. "I-I'm close."

Who was he to disobey your wishes? He obliged to your needs and pumped his fingers in a mind-numbing speed. The intensity made it hard for you to think, your body trembling as you felt the coil inside you tighten desperately.

A guttural whine left your lips as he began to pump his digits in and out of your sloppy pussy, focusing on the same spot inside of you with each flick of his wrist. Your mouth parted in a squeal as your toes curled, the soles of your feet digging into your mattress as he continued to thrust his fingers inside you, helping you to ride out your release.

Maybe it was the inexperience of sex, the way he had never seen a woman come undone right before him, that piqued his curiosity. It was his first time, and he found himself irresistibly drawn to the unknown, his eagerness to explore and understand the human body, especially your body. Every sensation, every moment, was tinged with the exhilaration of discovery, which led him to continue rocking his fingers into you, not slowing down even when you were a whining mess.

"Baby..." you whimpered. "W-What are you doing?"

Adam_4432: fuck her again Pussylicker: keep going pretty boy Pussylicker: don't stop even if she begs you to Pussylicker sent you a $200 gift

A new surge of pleasure engulfed you, a sensation unlike before. It coursed through your veins like a sweet, intoxicating elixir, so utterly consuming. Your hands clutched at the bedsheets, kneading them between your fingers as you felt this unusual sensation creep up on your lower half. It became so overwhelming your body was trying to ignore it, your eyes clenching shut as his fingers continued to pump into you.

"Oh, shit," You gasped. "I-I can't—"

Spencer's eyes flickered between the comments telling him not to stop and the way your body trembled in his arms. His free arm slid around your waist, pulling him into his chest as he gently whispered, "Do you want me to stop?"

Your lack of an answer was enough for him to keep going, digging his fingers deeper inside you, pressing onto that same spot repeatedly. He felt you shaking again, noticing the way your mouth fell apart as you gasped for air.

"I got you," he said softly, his eyes trailing down your body and his fingers between your legs. "Breathe," he instructed, slightly pausing when you clenched around him.

"N-No, don't stop," you begged him. "I can take it."

He curled his fingers again and you arched your back, hips bucking against his hand. "Oh god," you cried out, your voice sounding a little raw. "That's it—fuck, I'm gonna cum again."

He started to speed up, a sound of pleasure leaving his lips when your pussy started to squelch. It didn't take long for you to reach your second high as he doubled his movement, thrusting into you faster. You were shaking uncontrollably, and as you were about to calm your breathing from the overwhelming pleasure, another sensation burned between your legs.

You tipped your head back as it traveled along your body, clamping your thighs together only for him to push them apart again with his other hand. Every touch from him sent shockwaves of ecstasy, making your limbs quiver and your breath hitch. The sensation was so consuming that it turned your thoughts into a mushy, incoherent whirlwind, rendering your mind of rational thoughts.

"F-fuck, fuck, fuck," you cried out. The intensity of it overwhelmed you to the point your tears began to flow. "R-right there—"

JadenCums: HOLY FUCK Prince_Casper: SHE'S GONNA SQUIRT Prince_Casper: FUCK HER FASTER!!!!! Pussylicker sent you a $100 gift Adam_4432 sent you a $200 gift

Your body trembled uncontrollably, each shiver echoing the overpowering sensations that consumed you, and you couldn't hold it anymore. A harsh whine was torn from your lips as your release rippled through you. You gasped as your cunt began to convulse, a clear stream of liquid gushing from between your thighs as you cried out, "Spe—"

Spencer grunted as he clamped your mouth with his free hand, stopping you from calling out his name. He quickly pulled his hand and rubbed your clit furiously as he tried to coax more of the liquid from your convulsing body. Your body quivered as his meticulous touch kept you teetering on your high, the pleasure flowing through you as you continued to come undone.

He watched as your chest rose up and down, your perky breasts moving every time you tried to calm your breathing. Your body was still shaking in the aftershocks of your orgasm, but you didn't want your viewers to see you in your most vulnerable state, at least not now when you were still trying to comprehend what just happened. So you sat up and quickly turned off your stream before you glanced at your drenched sheets and the mess you splattered across your desk.

“I- I’ve never—” You were shocked, the sensation completely new to you. "That... that never happened to me before."

You could hear the triumph in his voice as he replied, "Really?"

You were torn between amusement at his gloating and embarrassment at your own overwhelming experience. You turned your head to see him sitting there, grinning sheepishly at you. Your eyes flickered between his legs, noticing the outline of his cock pressing against his pants, and even by the shadow of it, you could tell his size was bigger than you anticipated.

It didn't take long for you to make a move, really, because he was staring at you with doe eyes filled with lust and you couldn't stop yourself from climbing onto his lap, earning a moan from his lips as you settled right on top of his cock. Your wetness covered him and it took a lot of self-control for him not to pounce at you right at this moment.

"Hey, Spence?" Your voice was sweet, the tone of it reminded him of the way you had asked him to join you when you both stood in the kitchen. His ears perked up as he held you by your waist.

"Yeah?"

You smiled down at him.

"What do you think about losing your virginity?"

He had never agreed to anything so fast in his life.

#spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x fem!reader smut #spencer reid x reader smut #criminal minds smut

7K notes · View notes

redr0sewrites · 7 months ago

Text

Loki x reader General Hcs

this was... spontaneous! but i said i'd write for marvel and theres no better time than the present. PLEASE send in marvel requests🙏

🥀Cw: fluff, smut, switch!loki, little teensy bit of angst if u squint

🥀minors dni with the nsfw portion

sfw:

loki is a naturally guarded person, and is very intelligent and clever. he's not one to let his guard down easily and isn't used to dealing with true romantic feelings, so you are obviously very special to him

loki is incredibly intelligent and good at reading people, along with being very charismatic. he's used to charming people to get his way, and he very, very rarely shows his true feelings unless he trusts you. he cares a lot about your opinion, and a part of him really, really wants to please you

at first, it's hard for even loki to tell whether his feelings for you are genuine, and he gets completely tongue tied around you. he wants to be around you all the time, and he admires you a lot

when it comes to actually dating loki, please be patient!!! he will only truly begin to let his guard down around you over time, and he believes that you'll only find him irritating. he definitely has a big "hurt them and push them away before they hurt you", type of mentality, and when he first realizes how much he cares for you he will probably avoid you for a little

everyone knows loki loves attention, and that is no different in a relationship. he is both touch starved and touch disgusted as he doesn't want to appear vulnerable, but craves any sort of intimacy that you offer

very thoughtful, and he remembers every little detail about you. you mention how much you like a certain candy? you miraculously find those candies in your room. you tell him about an important event coming up that you're stressing about? he reminds you about it the day before. you tell him your favorite gemstone? well, you better believe that every piece of jewelry he gives you includes that gem. loki knows your favorite song, your favorite book, your favorite movie, and any and everything else about you that he deems important. you live rent free in his mind 24/7

loki loves matching with you, and he loves when you wear his signature colors. he's always complimenting you and your style, and his heart flutters a little when you ask him what he's wearing for an important event coming up so that you two can coordinate

i don't even think i can pick a love language for him, he loves giving and receiving any form of affection and you two are probably attached at the hip

HE WOULD PASS THE ORANGE PEEL TEST. loki is absolutely the type to lace up your shoes for you, making a corny joke about how he "doesn't want you falling for anyone else". he uses magic to help you a lot, and especially loves your guys' night routines

loki is nooot a morning person, and loves snuggling with you. whenever you both have to get up in the morning he's always pulling you back into bed, nuzzling into your neck and begging for "five more minutes". he's also always very groggy in the morning and won't remember most of what he does when half asleep. he's very honest as well, and says lots of sappy things whenever he's sleepy. on the rare occasion that you sleep in later than him, he loves kissing you awake and pressing kisses all over your fave!

loki naturally runs very cold, but doesn't feel cold if that makes sense. to you his skin is absolutely FREEZING, but he just feels normal. however there are times where he runs insanely hot and there is absolutely no in between. he's either freezing or burning up, and it's both a little sad and a little amusing. there are times where the cold gets to him and loki will be more clingy than usual, claiming that he needs you to warm him up. other times he will practically walk around naked, too overstimulated and hot to even touch you

loki is a lot more anxious then he seems, and will sometimes just freak out over little things when in reality its a bunch of big things piling up one after another. he never ever means to take it out on you, and even when he's reached his limit he would never hurt you, but it can still be frustrating when he gets mad at you for a simple mistake. he always apologizes and takes accountability tho, and is very careful not to hurt your feelings bc he's very afraid you'll leave him. PLEAAASEEE REASSURE HIM :((((

loki is very chatty and loves talking to you about anything and everything. from in depth psychological conversations to simple "how was your day" conversations, he just cherishes getting to be able to talk to you

nsfw

look me in the eyes and tell me he's not a switch. i definitely see him as being capable of both being a dom and a sub, and i think it really depends on your guys' moods

when he's a dom, i think loki can fluctuate on how mean or rough he is. i do see him being a more degrading or rough dom but i also think he can be a lot softer as well, and more of a pleasure dom. again, i think it all comes down to your preferences

when he's a sub, loki is definitely bratty. he loves being put in his place and getting a little roughed up, but there are also times where he just wants to relax and be taken care of. when he gets in his own head too much and is irritated after a long day he'll be a lot more pliant and willing to just let you take care of him. PLEEEASSSE praise him and pamper him when he's like this, he'll melt like putty in your hands

PRAISE + DEGRADATION!!! BOTH WAYS!!!! he absolutely has a huge praise kink and definitely praises you a looot during sex, but i also see him being a bit mean with his praise and mixing in some degrading words as well. either way he's a wonderful dirty talker and he probably has a voice kink too, considering how often he whispers in your ear (and enjoys it when you do the same).

i also think loki would be into bondage, again, both ways. theres something so delicious about seeing you tied up and squirming from just his gentle touches, but it's equally intoxicating for him to be the one tied up and denied any sort of pleasure. he gets really whiny when you don't let him touch you, and will probably start pouting and begging. tying him up is defff one of the easiest ways to break him

guys hear me out but a candle wax kink. loki is very respectful and will always ask your permission before trying something new, but he loves seeing you whimper and moan while he slowly lets a few drops of wax spill onto your smooth skin. he also will let you return the favor, and the wax often hisses and steams a bit when it hits his skin because he's so cold.

marking you is definitely very appealing to him, and it's pretty self explanatory. loki just loves marking you and being marked up by you. it satisfies his slightly possessive and jealous side, and you two always look like you've been in a fight after having sex from the number of bruises, scratches, and hickies littering your body.

another relatively self explanatory kink, but, hair pulling. he looooves it when you pull his hair while he gives you head

loki is a major tease, and he loves teasing you in public settings where you can't do much about it. it will go from subtle things like placing a hand on your lower back or caressing your thigh to whispering absolute filth in your ears and making out with you in the bathroom. he is always trying to rile you up bc he knows damn well that it will lead to a night of rough sex

we all know loki's a shapeshifter and genderfluid, so i absolutely hc that he can change his physical body to match his gender. if he's feeling more feminine, he LOVES when uou eat him out. facesitting is def something he enjoys and he loooves riding your face SOO MUCH.

loki is very vocal, he def whines and moans a lot. he isn't shy about letting you know how good he's feeling. he knows how much his voice affects you and will whisper the filthiest things in your ear between moans as you fuck him senseless

aftercare is v important to him, and whether or not he's subbing really affects how exhausted he is afterwards. if he dommed he knows he can be pretty rough and he'll run a bath for you both before getting a towel to wipe you clean and then carrying you to the tub. i also think he'd prioritize keeping you well hydrated and would get you some water and food after the bath. loki is very clingy after sex and would want you as close as possible.

when he subbed tho, it's a totally different story. loki will be a clingy mess from the moment you finish, just whining and cuddling against you the whole time. depending on how deep into subspace he is and how groggy he is, he might even cry if you try to get up (even if you're just going to get water or a towel or sum) bc he thinks you're leaving him :(. he's pretty vulnerable after subbing and will probably just lay with you for a while before coming down from his high. once he's mostly calm and cognizant, he'll def want to clean up pretty quickly. he doesn't like feeling sticky and gross and also loves bathing with you!! overall he's a lot softer after sex and generally just wants to be near to you

RAHHHH I LOVE HIM SMMM!!!! he's so silly lmao this post got sooo long 💀 i also lowkey feel like im shadowbanned or something cuz like all of my posts have been majorly flopping recently :/ maybe im just not in a lot of active fandoms idk but!!!! anyways!!!!! hope u enjoyed!!!!!!! PLEEEASE FEEL FREE TO SEND IN REQUESTS FOR MARVEL, ATSV, OR ANH OTHER FANDOM I WRITE FOR!!!

583 notes · View notes

nagaytoe · 6 days ago

Note

Got a req! Howlw about some angst? What would happen after the bad end?

Evanescent

(Adj.) Soon passing out of sight, memory, or existence; quickly fading or disappearing

Solivan Brugmansia X Reader

TWs: Murder, attempted murder, weapons, just a lot of death in general, loss of loved one, shifting blame, like one mention of necrophilia

Word count: 2.3k

I am currently cooking up 3 more scenarios of what could've happened after the bad end on day 2 but this is the first one that's actually finished (there were just too many ideas popping into my head so ofc i have to write for all of them lmao)

Requests: open

Disclaimer: i tried my best to proof-read it and tried using they/them pronouns but when i first wrote it i used she/her, i just hope i got all of 'em lol

Also, apparently 'whose' can also be used for objects as well and not just for people??? Sounds wrong to me but if the internet says it's right then lets hope its right haha

SPOILERS FOR DAY 2 OF THE KID AT THE BACK

Sol was inconsolable, his face buried in your neck, tears staining your shirt. His arms were wrapped around you but you didn’t reciprocate the gesture. How could you anyways? You were dead. Stabbed by Sol's only friend, Hyugo, who was currently cleaning up the gory scene.

---------------------------------------------------

Just a few moments ago you stumbled upon a horrifying view: Your friend, best friend, and your first love, Jericho Ichabod, laid on the dirty ground of a shed whose door you just broke down, his head barely attached to the neck.

Your knees gave in beneath you as soon as you gazed upon Crowe, grabbing his body, shaking it and willing him to wake up again. How could this happen? He was well liked, nice to everyone he met, who would think about taking his life? You barely registered footsteps behind you because of how loud you were sobbing, but the clanking of metal on the ground didn't slip past you. Turning around, your eyes are met with the sight of someone you didn't expect. You expected a gang leader, a thug, everyone but the one who actually stood in front of you.

Solivan Brugmansia

Just yesterday you befriended the seemingly timid boy and now he was soaked in blood, his red eyes wide as your gazes met.

“[____]...?” Tears of his own started to well up in his eyes which currently roamed over your hunched figure.

“What are you doing here? You're not supposed to be here, you need to leave!” By the end of his sentence he was yelling, tears streaming down his face.

Truly a miserable, pathetic sight.

“You killed him, you killed Crowe, didn't you?” Anger was bubbling up in the pit of your stomach. On the inside you were praying to whatever god was watching from heaven above, if there even was one to begin with, that all this was nothing more than a bad dream, hoping insistently to wake up. However, this was a nightmare you were not permitted to ever wake up from.

“I only did what I should've done years ago.” His words caused you to huff in disbelief, “You're not even gonna deny it, huh?”

“I would never lie to you, [____]” Was he fucking serious? He just killed someone, but at least he's not a liar? What the hell was wrong with him?! You were enraged, he had no reason to kill Crowe, to play god by ending his life and taking your love from you.

“Why? Why did you kill him?!”

"BECAUSE I LOVE YOU! I LOVE YOU AND HE TRIED TO TAKE YOU AWAY FROM ME! I COULDN'T SIT BY AND LET THAT HAPPEN… YOU'RE MINE! MINE ALONE!” he finally snapped, showing his true colors. Was everything he showed you before just a facade? It had to be.

The words he just spoke left a disgusting taste in your mouth. Love? Love?! How dare he use this sweet word in such a disgusting fashion? How dare he taint it in order to justify his vile actions? It made you sick to your stomach and you were blinded by rage as you lunged at him.

“YOU MONSTER!”

You unbuckled the strap of his choker and pulled on it, strangling him in the process.

“YOU LOVE ME?! I LOVED HIM! HE WAS EVERYTHING TO ME! MY BEST FRIEND, MY FIRST LOVE, MY SAVIOR! YOU ARE NOTHING TO ME, I DON'T EVEN KNOW YOU! DON'T YOU DARE IMAGINE YOU KNOW ME IN THE SLIGHTEST! I WILL MAKE YOU PAY FOR WHAT YOU'VE DONE!”

Sol was clawing at your wrists by now, but it was no use, every action of his seemed slow and heavy, as if it took a lot of effort, almost as if he was paralyzed.

His hands fell to the side and just as you thought you managed to avenge your love something sharp pierced through your chest.

Here you were, taking your last breaths in the arms of the person you despise most.

“[____], please… please stay with me… don't leave me [____]...” his pleas were a stark contrast to what he is screaming at the person who stabbed you.

“HOW COULD YOU!? ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND?!”

Then he went back to sobbing into your shoulder. He seemed completely out of it, switching between grief and anger every other second.

You couldn't seem to make out the words your killer was saying, everything they said was incoherent, except for the last two words:

“No witnesses.”

---------------------------------------------------

“What do you plan on doing? Hold them until they start rotting?”

Hyugo was standing in front of Sol, who was still sitting on the ground, sobbing and cradling you in his arms. After he managed to clean up the scene, the only thing left to do was the disposal of your corpse.

“Just kill me alongside them.” Sols voice was quiet, barely above a whisper and it was strained from crying and screaming so much. It hurt Hyugo to see his best friend like that.

“You know very well I can't do that.”

“YOU WERE ABLE TO KILL THEM THOUGH! I JUST GOT THEM BACK AND YOU TOOK THEM FROM ME!”

Hyugo couldn't hold back his anger anymore. How could Sol still fail to see that this would've never worked out either way?

“THEY TRIED TO KILL YOU!”

Hyugo sighed deeply in an effort to calm himself before continuing, “Even if I had only knocked them out, do you think they would’ve forgiven you for killing Crowe-”

“Don't you dare bring up that bastards name. All of this is his fault anyways. If it hadn't been for him… me and my sweet [____] would still be together now…”

Sols voice was laced with venom as he gripped your body tighter. You have stopped breathing by now, the color has long drained from your face and the warmth of your skin has vanished. All that was left was an empty shell of who you once were.

Just yesterday, you were breathing, talking, laughing. Now? Now you will never be able to do any such thing again.

“It was you or them, Sol. I need you to understand that. Do you truly believe they could've loved you back after finding out you killed someone? Do you think the two of you would have lived happily ever after?” The blue haired man was trying his best to reason with his best friend, but to no avail.

“We could've made it work, I know that we would have… We were destined to be together, there wouldn't have been any other way…Maybe I should just keep them…”

“Sol.” Hyugo put his hand on the taller males shoulder, who was still sitting on the sheds ground. “We need to bury them.”

Sol seemed to be pondering for a moment, the hold he had on your body relentless.

“I can't… I can't let them go. They're gonna be really scared if we bury them and leave them in the darkness forever…”

“Sol, I'll repeat myself one last time. We need to bury them. What else are we supposed to do with their body? Keep it?” Hyugo put his hands on his hips, his patience wearing thin.

“I see no reason to not keep it…” the males words were muttered, but his friend was still able to hear them.

“You can't be serious! Do you know what happens to a body when it decays? They'll have 2 weeks at best before there's nothing left of them, except for the bones.”

Sol knew his friend was right, but how was he supposed to let go of you?

“They deserve a gravestone… a funeral… they deserve a memorial and not to be buried in the woods like some dead animal…”

Hyugo sighed. He knew that there is pretty much nothing he could do right now to convince Sol to do the right thing, he will keep arguing until he gets his way.

“What's your plan?”

Sol considered his options for a few moments before responding,

“Let's call the cops, make it look like an accident or shift the blame onto someone else”

Hyugo scoffed, “And what do you plan to tell them? We don't exactly have an alibi and there aren't that many families with Katanas either, you know? The only other family I can think of right now is Subarus.”

Red eyes met Hyugos teal ones, it's obvious an idea struck Sol. “That's right…”

Hyugo immediately cut Sol off before the latter could finish his sentence.

“Absolutely not! I will not drag my brothers family into this.”

“He doesn't even like you!” Sol retorted.

The shorter males eyes grew wide for a moment, but he quickly regained his composure.

“You know what? Do whatever you want. Keep their body like some necrophilie if that's what you desire.” Turning on his heel, Hyugo began walking off. He already took care of everything necessary, cleaning the scene and disposing of the weapons alongside Crowes body. He was not in the mood to argue with someone whose judgment was clouded and wouldn't even listen to him in the first place.

Sols rage grew stronger by the minute. How dared he? Hyugo killed his one and only soulmate in cold blood, like they were nothing and now he walked off just like that? No… No, he won't. Sol won't let that happen. He couldn't let him disrespect you like that. Carefully lowering your body to the ground and standing up, just as Hyugo walked out of the cabin, Sol quickly lunged at the shorter, unsuspecting male.

If there was one thing he knew, it was that Hyugo might be good with weapons but he wasn't all that strong physically.

Well, at least he was weaker than Sol. Since Hyugo buried his katana alongside any other evidence all he can fight with were his bare hands.

“SOL, GET OFF OF ME!”

Sols hands wrapped themselves around Hyugos throat, just like yours were wrapped around his not even half an hour ago. Pressing his friend's head into the dirt ground, Sol is blinded by rage. Hyugo clawed at the taller males wrists, kicking him but Sols grip won't loosen. Letting go of the hands that were wrapped around his throat, Hyugo felt the dirt ground around him for something he can potentially defend himself with and sure enough - he managed to grab ahold of a rock, swiftly smashing it against the side of Sols head.

The taller male staggered and collapsed on the floor next to Hyugo, who hit the exact right spot to knock someone out.

Hyugo stood up, dusting off his clothes and sighing. What a mess. He knew that he needed to get rid of the body, even if it'll drive Sol further into madness.

So that's what he did. He buried [____]s body deep in the forest before sitting down by Sol's side, waiting for him to wake up.

—————————

Sol didn't attempt to kill Hyugo again after the first time, though part of the reason might be the ax Hyugo found in the shed and kept on him afterwards for self-protection. Either way, Sol acted like Hyugo didn't exist. To him he was dead anyways.

He tried his best, tried to go to school but the next days there were hell. People talked, gossiped, conspired as to what could've happened to [____] and Crowe. Were they kidnapped by the mafia? Did they commit suicide together? Did they run away together? Did they join a cult? People made up all kinds of stories in order to make sense of the situation, but only Sol and Hyugo were the ones who knew the truth.

After a few days, Sol stopped going to school. He couldn't handle it any longer.

Every time he sat in his classes he would draw you, instead of paying attention to what the teacher was saying.

Every time he sat in art class he was met with the sight of your unoccupied seat.

Every time lunch break rolled around he would go to the library where the two of you met and sit down in the seat he sat in on that day.

After school he would go to your apartment complex and break into your apartment to lay down on your bed, hugging your sheets and pillows, pretending they were you.

Hyugo never told Sol where he had buried you, too anxious about what Sol might do were he to know where you've been buried.

Not even a week passed before Sol decided what he had to do next.

On monday, almost a whole week after your death, Sol went back to school. The place where he first saw you, where he fell for you and in whose proximity you had died. Though, instead of attending class, he walked up the stairs to the school roof. The cool november breeze brushed over his face, twirling his hair and swaying single strands from side to side.

He climbed over the fence, briefly sitting down on it.

There was no further purpose in living, that, he was sure of. He lost his only purpose and what meaning does life have if it has to be spent without you, his darling?

All he could do was atone for his sins.

His mind is occupied with memories of you as he leapt forwards, clutching his fist to his chest where his heart resided.

“See you soon, pumpkin.”

Everything went dark as his body met the ground. There was no pain, there was no afterthought. All that's there is nothingness.

Of course, to the people now surrounding his body there was a gruesome scene, perhaps they would prefer nothingness as well. But if there was nothingness, there would be no note either, tucked away in his fist.

“In the forest”, the note read.

Sol promised to atone for his sins and he would never lie to you, remember?

175 notes · View notes

tinalbion · 7 months ago

Text

"You Reap What You Sow" ||

Part 1

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟐 𝐇𝐞𝐫𝐞

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Cooper "The Ghoul" Howard x fem!Reader

𝐑𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄! Mentions of death, decapitation, abuse (physical and mental), implied (but not mentioned) sexual abuse, manipulation

𝐋𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐡: 4.7k

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You had a bounty on your head and a familiar Ghoul has taken that bounty, so upon catching you, he escorts you back to the compound you escaped. Will you be able to convince him to let you go, or will it be for nothing?

It wasn't supposed to end up with you running from a bounty hunter that the Wastelands knew as one of the most efficient, most dangerous, and most successful in the business. You had done all you could by covering your tracks and remaining out of sight as much as possible, you had even covered most of your hair so the length and color weren't easily described to just any passersby. But naturally, your luck just never seemed to go your way.

As you slept beneath some discarded and tattered tarps inside of an abandoned structure, you figured it would be the safest bet that you'd survive the night, at the very least. The cold at night didn't bother you as much as you thought it would, but that was one of the things that was the least of your worries. There was enough food in your pack to last you maybe a week, and that was being generous, but you've gone without eating for a few days before, who's to say you couldn't do it again? There wasn't anything that would have prepared you for the absolute surprise shit show you decided to throw yourself into, but somehow being among the tumbleweeds, giant radioactive roaches, and the occasional fiend was still a hundred times better than what you initially put up with.

You just had to get to Filly, get there, somehow manage to get your hands on some weaponry, and make it far enough away that maybe your problems would forget you, and allow you to disappear. You wanted it more than anything in the world, well, maybe not as much as a cup of cold water, but you'd cross that bridge eventually. As you lay there, huddled beneath the small blanket you had and the tarps, you wondered what would happen now that you were gone from the compound. Would anyone be sent to search for you, or would they think you weren't worth the effort if at all? All of these things that weighed heavily on your mind didn't stop your body from finally relaxing and falling asleep for the night.

Daylight came and you were still alive, nothing found you or tried to eat your limbs as you slept, so you chalked that up as a success. You were back on the road, so to speak, and began to traverse the sandy terrains and had gotten pretty far, but your water was running low. It was slowing you down quite a bit, but you wanted to put as much distance between you and your abuser as possible.

It was a pretty solid life you had before all this, before he started laying his hands on you and treating you as he did. It wasn't your fault, even if it was just power and the man finally showed his true colors. Axton was a very colorful character when you first met him, and he was just like you, trying his best to make it in the Wastelands, but he was doing rather well with what he'd accomplished unlike yourself. You didn't ask questions as to how he made it as far as he did, already knowing the seedy ways people survived in this world, so you took to blissful ignorance as he welcomed you into the fold. At first, things were nice and he welcomed you into his little found faction, the Condemned, but sooner rather than later, you learned that a lot of the people there hadn't started in the group of free will.

And the more you found out, the more you felt disgusted by the behavior of Axton, who now treated you the same way a Fiend treats its next meal. He'd batter you if you questioned him, and made sure you had no interest in finding out more, and it was even worse when you stumbled upon his involvement with Vault-Tec and the cruel fate of Shady Sands. You needed out and you needed it fast, especially since you had a sneaking suspicion anyone who worked against him was punished in more cruel ways than you'd suffered at his hands.

So in the dead of night, you gathered all you could in a traveling pack and got the hell out of there, but not without a little work. During your time there, you caught onto things, ways to kill a person and otherwise, so your challenge was hefty. Three of his men, some of whom you'd gotten to know, had been the obstacle between you and keeping your life, and they'd paid with theirs. You had a feeling this wouldn't be the first time you'd ever shed blood.

It would be difficult, but you wanted to put that distance between yourself and those memories, and so you ran. You weren't good at sticking around and fighting, but you could if given the chance or cornered, but your concern was staying alive.

You had trekked for so long that you'd forgotten how long it had been since you left. A week, it had been a week, or maybe close to two, and you survived this long. Go, you. With a small, almost defeated smile on your face, you sighed and nodded to yourself to keep going. A couple hundred feet, several more, and then you'd stumbled upon a forested area. There had been large walls constructed of scraps and remnants of sheet metal, and wood, and it seemed whatever else could hold together. So without much hesitation, you made your way through the doors and walked in, seeing a small settlement, dozens of people wandering around and making trades, working, doing what they could to get by.

Slowly, you made your way down the stairs and wandered around slowly, taking everything in while you searched for anything that could further your journey. With as much as you looked around, you should have noticed the out-of-place form wandering around, watching you with intense eyes. You had wandered into a shop called Ma June's Sundries, where she would happily -or not so happily- trade what she had for caps. Thankfully you came prepared with said currency.

“Uh hello,” you greeted the older woman. “Do you have anything resembling a decent gun I could buy from you?”Your eyes scanned the walls, the shelves, and anything you could see before you turned back to speak to her.

Ma June looked up at you with curiosity and stared at you over her glasses. “Got a couple back against the wall there, you got the caps?”

“Sure do, I just need something with a bit of a kick, but nothing too hefty, if that's possible.”

June directed you toward the back wall where the weapons were displayed, but she kept her eyes on you, making sure you wouldn't try anything too suspicious or try to rip her off in any way. “What'chu need something like that for?” She eyed you, noticing the bruising that was around your neck and eye, but she didn't comment on it.

“Protection,” you stated simply. “Can't be too careful out there.”

June eyed you but didn't argue against it. “Yeah, you're right about that,” she agreed, albeit a tad skeptically.

Truth was there was a bounty put out on you, a large one at that, but you were none the wiser. June couldn't place where she saw your face before, but at her age, who knew where she'd seen you before?

You grabbed a gun off the wall and were rather impressed with how intact it was and how nicely it held. “How many caps for this?” You held up a 14mm pistol, a decent-sized weapon that could easily fit into your pack if you needed to conceal it.

June eyed it and wondered if you'd be naive enough for her to get away with a price gouge, but the closer she looked at you, the more she saw that you had something about you. The woman decided to test you, and see what she could get out of it. “Eighty caps.”

You stared at her and furrowed your brows. “Eighty? That's a bit steep don't you think?”

“What, you the expert on firearms now?” She asked. “Comes with ammo too,” she assured you as her arms were crossed.

“This still goes for at least forty-five, and that’s brand new unless you can assure I'm getting my ammo's worth.”

June sighed and waved her hand dismissively. “Fine, fine. Sixty caps with ammo, take it or leave it.”

You smiled and nodded. “Got yourself a deal there, ma'am.” You grabbed the gun and a box of ammo, then rummaged around a bit and found a decent sheath for the gun, and even an upgraded combat knife that you willingly traded the old one for, which was still a decent knife, but the less you had from your previous residence, the better.

June looked at your hoard and smiled a bit, staring up at you. “Looks like you're readyin’ yourself for another apocalypse,” she commented.

You just sighed and nodded. “Sorta. Ran away from someone dangerous, wanna make sure I can survive long enough.”

“Dangerous, huh?”

“Yeah. Abusive is a better term, maybe.”

June sighed and shook her head, knowing fully well what people were capable of. “Sorry, didn't wanna pry.”

“It's kinda obvious if you didn't notice,” you said as you made a gesture to your face. “But I'll live, hopefully with these.” You patted the pile of weapons you gathered.

June nodded and slid back ten of your caps, and before you could question her, she slid a small kit your way. “Don't tell anyone I did this, take it.” You wanted to protest, but she waved her hand dismissively again. “I ain't gonna repeat myself, take it, don't question it, and don't tell. Simple.” It was a small thing she’d put together for her regulars who frequented her shop; a small handful of freeze-dried fruits and vegetables, some fresh if she could spare it, and some other prepared foods that would last during a journey. There’d been more things, but you looked up at her with a thankful smile, not wanting to question her kindness.

You smiled and nodded as you took the kit and slipped it into your bag. “Thanks, ma'am. I'm gonna head out, where can I find a place to stay? Not long term, something less out in the open?”

“Ain't much you're gonna get to, but nowhere around here anyway. You're welcome to travel out south-east to the desolate Wasteland that is Shady Sands, maybe somethin’ passed all that.” June didn't know much of what was transpiring out past that way, but she figured you wouldn't make it long regardless.

“Alright, well, thanks, ma'am. You have a good one.” You smiled and waved at her, then walked through the door and raised your hand to block the sun from your eyes. The light had distracted you enough to where you didn't see the figure looming behind you.

“You must be the little escape artist back from The Boons?” The deep southern drawl caught you off guard and you jumped. He barely moved as you spun around, swallowing as if your throat became extremely dry.

“W-What do you mean?”

“You, you're the girl they're lookin’ for. Got a biiiiig ol’ bounty on that little head of yours.” The Ghoul stepped up closer, his hand placed gently on the hilt of his gun in case he needed to use it. “Gonna have to ask you to accompany me back to the Boons, sweetheart,” he stated, and it didn't seem like it was up for debate.

“What if I told you–”

“I don't rightly care what you gotta say, what I'm tellin’ you right now is I'm either gonna have you walk out here with me, or you're gonna be dragged outta here. Your choice, really.”

You wanted to bolt and try your hand at making it out of there, but where would you go afterward? He probably knew this place much better than you, and even then, you were running straight into the unknown outside of these walls. You stared at him, silently pleading with him to reconsider, but he didn’t seem too keen on giving a damn. With a defeated sigh, you bit your bottom lip and took a singular step back.

“Are you sure you won’t reconsider, Mister Ghoul?” You asked him, feeling hopeless.

The Ghoul just scoffed at you and let out a sigh, letting his head fall slightly as he stared at you beneath the brim of his hat. “‘Mister Ghoul’, huh? C’mon, girl, let’s go. Gotta get you back in one piece, and as fun as it is to batter up my bounties some, I got strict instructions and an even bigger pay increase if I don’t.”

With the way he carried himself, you saw that he was no joke, you didn’t want to test him further, so you slumped your head and fell into standing beside him. “Alright…” You would go quietly, for now anyway, but this would still give you enough time to get a read of him. For now, you’d study him, see how plausible it was to break off from him, maybe catch him in a distraction, and bolt for the nearest way out. You would only take so many things lying down, and returning to Axton was not going to be one of them.

So far, the Ghoul had been surprised with how easily you were complying with his directions, and it was almost too easy to the point he grew suspicious of your behavior. He would watch you from the corner of his eye, he knew how to spot different types of body language, knowing how to read people considering he’d been wandering for over two hundred years. He knew you’d react the way they all do in the end, he just had to be ready for it when you’d finally shown your true colors.

He continued to stay just a little behind you as you walked back the familiar way in which you came, your head hung low as you passed by the wreckage left out in the wilds. You wanted to plead with him, but with his type, he wasn’t going to let you get a word in, so you just kept to yourself.

What would you do, though, when you were finally brought back before the piece of shit you called a friend, a lover? Would you break down and go back, allowing him to treat you ten times worse than he already had, or would you die trying to kill him in his sleep? You preferred the latter.

“What’s gotten you all tense, smoothie? You ain’t tryin’ to run, and I find that more unnerving than you attempting to bolt.”

His voice pulled you out of the depths of your mind, away from the darkness, and into the bright sun that shines over what used to be Los Angeles. You looked over at him, your face as pensive as ever, then you looked away and shrugged. “You seem to be a guy who knows his way around guns and bounties, I got no shot against you.”

He must have not liked that simplistic response with the way he looked at you, but that’s all you really had to say to him. “Well that may be true, which I can definitely say it is, I just couldn’t help but think you were more of a fighter than that,” he huffed.

Was he trying to bait you to try and run? Was he just bored and looking for some fun along the way?

“Seems like you’re a scrapper, what with the black eye and all,” he raised his hand and vaguely pointed at you, but you didn’t look over at him after he’d pointed it out.

“Yeah, I suppose so…” You shrunk within yourself and wanted to take a moment, the hot sun and lack of water in your system made you feel faint. You stumbled a bit and fell to the ground, falling to one knee as your hand caught you from teetering over completely. “Dammit…” You sighed and threw your pack onto the ground, digging for your canteen.

The Ghoul stopped and turned to watch you, not helping, but not stopping you either. His hand was always resting on the hilt of his gun no matter what you did, but he seemed much more relaxed than he was in Filly. He figured you wouldn’t get far by running, and he would have been right. “This one of your little games to throw me off?” He asked, suddenly amused.

“No,” you huffed in return, keeping it short. You drank greedily and panted to catch your breath once you finished half of your water, then looked up at him. “We gotta camp somewhere before it gets too dark,” you pointed out. “I think I remember passing a weird structure that seemed okay up that way,” you said as you pointed in the direction.

The Ghoul just laughed and looked at you as if you were sprouting a second head. “You think I’m gonna let you make decisions? You ain’t got much of a choice right now, sweetheart, so we either go until I saw we stop, or I can rough you up a little to make sure I ain’t questioned again. You hear me?”

“I didn’t mean anything by it, Mister Ghoul,” you said as you sat in the grainy sand, your brow covered in sweat while you tried to regain some sense. “I just… I feel weak and didn’t wanna hold you up.”

He stared down at you in confusion. “You with all this ‘Mister Ghoul’ bullshit, what is your deal?”

“What, you mean having manners?” You asked with a sharp laugh, then slowly got to your feet. “I just… it’s instilled into me, that I was taught to not talk back unless… well, never mind that, it’s just a habit. What, want me to be just as gross and derogatory as the rest of the population?” This time you had a bit of bite with your bark, and the bounty hunter took notice immediately. “Sorry… I didn’t mean it–”

“You did,” the Ghoul corrected, “and it ain’t like I’ve not heard it all, been around a long time, it don’t bother me none. I’m in this to get paid and that’s it.” He started to walk a little ahead as you dragged along, wishing you had just laid low for a bit longer.

Wordlessly, you continued beside the man as he guided you, but his steps had slowed a little for you to keep up with him. That was the first thing you noticed on this trip that didn’t seem in character. But you didn't know this man in the way many references to him as, you weren't aware of the years he held the title of a feared bounty hunter, you just knew that the closer you got back to the Boons, the more you felt physically sick.

The sun was setting and getting significantly colder now that you didn't have much coverage, but you both were still out in the open as you continued forward, you were growing paranoid. There had been roads instead of sand, which meant you were on the right track to being back in the Boons, but you were more exhausted than you realized.

“Could we maybe stop for a bit, please? I'm so tired…” you said through a stifled yawn, then rubbed the water that formed in your eyes. “I'll give you whatever Rad-X or chems I got in my bag if we do.”

You could barely keep your eyes open, and as much as the gunslinger would have liked to get just a bit further, he figured since you had been a decent enough well-mannered individual, he would grant you this little favor. He sighed and veered off to the left where he spotted a decent area that seemed to have some form of shelter, which looked like an old gas station.

“Red Rocket…” You said to yourself as you looked around for any potential threats, wondering if anything would pop out at you. Carefully, you checked inside the building and all seemed suspiciously fine. There were no radroaches, no lone raiders lurking about, it all seemed pretty calm for a place to spend the night. You looked back at your captor and then around the area. “Would this suffice? It's covered and two exits are visible in case we need ‘em.”

The Ghoul squinted at you, watching you intently while you seemed to get a good layout of the place. “Were you special forces or some shit, checkin’ the exits isn't exactly normal for your typical smoothie, and you aren't exactly what I expected you to be.”

You looked over at him as he stood in the doorway and smiled, a real genuine smile that he took notice of, and you shrugged. “Well, when you run away from a place that makes you feel like you have to know the layout of a room to escape, then maybe it's not a place worth going back to.”

This took him off guard but he didn't show it, instead, he continued to watch you as you situated everything around you into a suitable area to sleep in. He wanted to question you, but that meant he would be getting involved, and someone like him didn't do that. Instead, he walked around the perimeter and made sure that there wasn't anything threatening to either of you, he still needed you alive to get the caps he was owed.

The Ghoul walked over toward a shredded-up faux leather booth and figured he could rest up there until you had slept long enough, so he sat back and kicked his feet up, then tipped the hat he wore over his face to shield his eyes. He was planning on leaving it at that, but you kept making little noises here and there, ones that weren't distracting in normal circumstances. But for some reason, his body couldn't rest and he peeked over at you as you finally had gotten comfortable with a makeshift pillow you made in that little bit of time.

When he looked over at you, though, you were already staring at him. “What is it?” He asked, his tone still somewhat cold and distant.

“Nothing, really. You just look familiar is all.”

He scoffed and shook his head, turning away from you so you could see his profile. “Sure thing, what, all us Ghouls look the same?”

“No, you look like someone I used to watch in movies with my dad.” You turned away from him, not wanting to annoy him further, but you stared up at the decaying ceiling and sighed. “My favorite one was ‘A Man and His Dog’, I always asked my dad for a dog after we watched that movie. He hated it when I constantly asked, but he was happy I at least liked the movie.” You closed your eyes and took a deep breath. “Sometimes I wish I could watch it again.”

The Ghoul listened, his eyes stared ahead at the wall as he focused on your words. You liked his movie, well, the man he used to be. That caused so many feelings to come flooding back that he just sat in unmoving silence, but after a while, he looked back over at you. You seemed to be miles away as you stared off, and he grew more and more curious about this bounty. He shouldn't have gotten involved, this wasn't his place.

“Why’d you run from the Boons?”

When you turned over, staring up at him with such doe eyes, he felt disgusted with the way you were slowly making him feel. He hadn't felt this way in a very long time, but even after everything, it seemed he still had a heart somewhere underneath it all.

You figured it wouldn't matter how much he knew, it would all just be for nothing anyway, you were going back regardless. “I ran because I was sick of the abuse. I was tired of being treated worse than I ever had before, I'd rather take my chances in the wilds with beasts and cannibals rather than be hurt like that again.” Recalling everything Axton had put you through hurt, but you became a bit stronger and you pushed yourself until you left, something you didn't know you had the strength to do. Even if you were to be dragged back and given back to the man who did unspeakable things to you, it still showed that no matter how much you were broken down physically, you were stronger than him and you wouldn't let him break that.

The Ghoul continued to stare at you, he wasn't sure what to really say after hearing that, but he wasn't one to solve anyone's problems in such a complex way. He brought people in for a payment and that was it, the problem was no longer his, he washed his hands of it and left. But something about hearing what you endured in the Boons struck a nerve with him, although it shouldn't have, he'd done worse things for less pay.

You took his silence as uninterest, so you turned to where your back faced him, staring off at the bits of broken glass and counters that once occupied the building. As much as you wanted to sleep, the heaviness in your body all but disappeared for the time being, so you looked up at him from your makeshift pillow, wondering if you should continue to bother him with your silly questions.

“So, do you have a name?”

The Ghoul scoffed and peeked over at you again. “Weren't you the one who was complainin’ you were tired? Go to sleep.”

“I am, I just figured I'd ask since I've been calling you Mister Ghoul. Or are you Mister Bounty Hunter?”

“Call me whatever you like, it ain't gonna matter much.” He turned back and looked out the window, staring at the trees that shrouded the edges of the road further down the way, and he felt himself slowly but surely finding those rough, calloused edges being torn down by you.

Everyone always kept him at arm's length, or even further, he was a cold-blooded killer in it for the score. But someone like you would come along every so often and challenge that view, yet you alone made him question it all.

“Hmm well I'm bad with picking names, so I suppose Mister Hunter works since well, I know you're a Ghoul and that's not all there is about you.”

The gunslinger just laughed at you, finding your conversation a lot more entertaining than you expected him to find it. “You are absolutely ridiculous,” he scoffed and tilted his head back down. “Get some rest, we got a long walk tomorrow.”

You lay there and sighed as you nestled against the small, thin blanket you had, and you wished he could see reason when you tried to talk him out of taking you back. “I wish you'd reconsider… I can't pay you what he is, but he'll kill me once I'm back.”

The Ghoul sighed loudly. “Again, that ain't my concern, sweetheart. Much as I wanna help, if I put my foot in the grave, I ain't gettin’ out of it. Nothin’ personal, you understand?”

“I'll steal from him, I'll get you your pay, I don't care, just please don't leave me with him…” Your voice was barely a whisper as you begged him, but you soon fell asleep as your pleas went on deaf ears, and you cried yourself to sleep.

The Ghoul, on the other hand, had heard your pleas, and it filled him with a sense of dread and what he could only remember as heartbreak, which he was more than familiar with, but feeling that for you? Now that was questionable at best, but what was it about you, about your plight that he felt the need to pry into your business and find out more about this bounty? Whatever the case, he was more exhausted than he realized, soon he was following your example and fell asleep while his mind was plagued with his past.

#tinalbion writings #cooper howard #cooper howard x you #ghoul x reader #the ghoul #fallout series #fallout show #ghoul x you #walton goggins #cooper howard fanfiction #cooper howard oneshot #cooper howard imagine #fem!reader #angst #angst with a happy ending

155 notes · View notes

romana-after-dark · 11 months ago

Text

Room's on Fire Masterlist

Dark!Santiago Garcia x Fem!Reader Dark!Francisco Morales x Fem!Reader Dark!William Miller x Fem!Reader Dark!Benjamin Miller x Fem!Reader

Summary:

Years after the world fell apart, various communities have established themselves, one of which is ran by four men who claim to be divine.

When they decide it's time to and heir to be born, they chose a virgin from their cult and make her their wife. Reader is offered a choice, of course. She doesn't have to marry them. But if she doesn't, the savior won't be born. She choses to become the Madonna. She is wed to all four of them, and moved into their home where her body is open to use whenever her husbands desire (free use au), in the hopes of getting her pregnant. It doesn't matter whose baby it ends up being, because they are all part God, so it doesn't matter... right?

Warnings for full fic, if anything is added or really emphcized it will be in additional warnings.

THIS IS A DARK FIC THOUGH SO BE WARY! I CAN'T PROTECT AGAINST EVERYTHING.

DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT

DUB CON MOSTLY but there WILL BE NON CON. Major character deaths, forced breeding, physical abuse, brainwashing, manipulation, violence, gore, alcoholism/addiction, BIG OLE BLASPHEMY WARNING like this cult appropriates a lot of religious themes and they call reader their Madonna, Santi is called the Pope, like all that stuff. However, this is a cult so I mean. It happens. None of it are my thoughts on religion or meant to make fun of religion or demonize religious people. Disgusting views on virginity. Attempted rape outside the boys. T*m warning. Age gap. Creepy terrible men. Non-reader rape, dub con, violence. Covert incest, massive mommy issues, sexual abuse all around, past grooming by parental figure. no CSA but the victim isn't much older. some Bates Motel type shit. I cannot properly warn you for everything, without just telling the story but consider this a major warning that there are dark dark themes. No one involved here is morally clean, and who you perceive as the good guy cannot be relied on. Don't come to my story and say im romanticizing these things until at least the story ends.

Unknown amount of chapters right now.

Chapter 1: Pilot: Delta finds their Madonna Chapter 2: The wedding Chapter 3: Aftermath of the wedding FishBen: Symptom of Being Human Chapter 4: Pope is not pleased. Chapter 5: Jonah lore, Madonna gets through to Frankie Chapter 6: Madonna gains Frankie's heart, Santi is jealous Iris: Rey and Iris find pockets of time Chapter 7: Fun with Ben: wining Pope back Chapter 8: big announcement to the community

Non canon Frankie Madonna Chapter 9: Madonna’s blissful ignorance to the world around her. Chapter 10: There's a lot Madonna doesn't know.

Chapter 11: Things start to crumble around Madonna

Chapter 12: It's all too much for Madonna

Chapter 1 3: Santiago’s true colors come out

Chapter 14: Jonah tries to show the truth

Chapter 15: madonna begins to learn her power

Chapter 16: Frankie and Ben reflect

Chapter 17: Ben shows his true colors

Chapter 18: Iris makes her stand

Chapter 19:

Chapter 20:

Bonus Content

not necessary for the series. Pieces in the main list are suggested as they add depth and sometimes small plot points.

"Can you peel my orange?" Jonah smut

Jonah Hanson character ai

ROF characters Star signs

Jonah x non-Madonna reader x Marcus flashback commission

Art

By @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog

By @survivingandenduring

Lil comic by @my-secret-shame

As I said, a lot of themes and dynamics ended up accidentally similarly to Watch Your Step by the amazing @charnelhouse Some was because that fic is what developed my characterizations of the boys. Some was totally incidental, like Pope and readers relation to art. It's different though, a much different series, but I wanted to tell y'all that she s PUBLISHING WYS AS A NOVEL NOW, Its called Cardinal Sin's and I'll link it right here!

How to keep up with the story!

Comment on this masterlist that you want to be tagged and I'll tag you in updates

Follow @romana-updates and/turn on notifications

Follow the tag Rooms on fire

THANK YOU FOR YOU'RE SUPPORT!

Please remember to reblog, and I love comments/asks, anon or not, and would love to see engagement and theories!

270 notes · View notes

titlemewickedwonderland · 1 year ago

Text

Possess Me (Swiss x Reader)

Summary: Ghouls are misunderstood creatures, they let you see what they want you to see and sometimes that's just their stage personas but behind the masks, they are something else entirely. Y/n got that reality check when one particular ghoul showed his true nature.

Pairings: Swiss x Reader

Triggers: Slight obsessive, possessive, and tsundere Swiss

Support My Work!

He knew she was perfect from the moment she first stepped foot into the Abbey all those months ago. Amid all the new recruits' other bright-eyed and fresh faces, hers stuck out the most. Not because she was dressed differently (all of them wore the same standard Sibling uniform), or because she had distinguishing features that made her stand out from the crowd like piercings, tattoos, or bright-colored hair. But because of the look on her face as she took everything in. It wasn't any less than shining fascination and excitement but it was just the way she looked at everything around her - like she was indeed taking in the splendor of the Abbey and imagining the skill it took to create such details; she looked at everything as if it was a true work of art to be appreciated and most importantly...respected.

Not a lot of people looked at this place as such. A place that held decades of history, secrets, and lore crafted and chiseled over all those many years. She looked at it as the most important place in the world to be cherished and respected. But her look when her gaze landed on the Ghouls of the Abbey was far more gut-wrenching. Not because there was fear or disgust in them, not even confusion. She looked at them - dressed in their usual black attire and silver masks with postures straight and intimidating. She looked at them as if they were something far more precious to reside in this establishment. As if he mattered far more than anything else.

The smile she had given them while everybody else looked on with a sense of apprehension and wariness made something inside him clench; something forming inside of him when her beautiful eyes traveled from one ghoul to the next until they landed on his; even from behind the silver metal of his mask, he could see her eyes land on him - no, not on him but more looking through him. Even from a distance, he knew she was staring straight into his eyes. Without fear, without trepidation, and without a shred of shyness as the corners of her perfect mouth tilted upward into a smile so dazzling it damn near broke his heart. And then she'd waved; the motion catching the attention of the other ghouls as much as him and he swore Rain even gave her a little wave back.

He had sworn that she would not last long. That her sweetness would soon be tainted the longer she stayed within the Abbey as part of its clergy. But months passed and while he watched other siblings of sin fall to carnal pleasures she never did. Somewhere...somehow she found the strength to stay pure. That fact made Swiss crave her all the more.

Even now, a good year of her being within the Abbey; while others of her group had already left unable to deal with the lifestyle. She never left and each day he found new ways to try and get close to her. Her name was Y/n. It wasn't anything fancy; common by most standards but it fit her so well. And Swiss had no problem with getting close to her - daily reminding her in his own flirtatious ways how pretty she was...how well she fit into the Clergy. He had all her attention. Until that...boy, came along and well. Swiss don't share what's his.

Y/n was walking down the hallway, arms fully loaded with stacks of books that were just one short of covering her vision completely as she strolled down the pathway - the soft tapping of her flats drowned out by the voices and hubbub of the Abbey as others siblings were doing their own things. When a figure came out of nowhere; jogging up to her. She turned her head to look over and gave a friendly smile when she noticed Steven, a new recruit who'd only been there a month or so. He was cute with short cropped dirty blond hair slightly longer on top and pretty ocean eyes that watched Y/n with admiration as he lifted a hand to wave at her.

She didn't know him long but she had been one of the siblings that helped him get accustomed to the Abbey; they had chores together a few times and he was always so helpful and friendly with her.

"Hey, Y/n! Those look heavy, would you like some help with those?" he asked as he motioned at the stack of heavy books in her arms.

"Oh! Sure, that'd be appreciated. But aren't you busy with your own chores?" she raised a brow as she glanced back the way he had come to the small group of other siblings who were busy doing their part.

"Ah, yeah I mean I do have them to do but I didn't want you to trip and fall with those books." he replied rubbing the back of his neck.

Y/n's smile tipped up a bit more. "Well, I won't say no to extra help. These books are pretty heavy. Thank you." she finally agreed as Steven grabbed half of the books off of her stack and eased some of her burden, in the process.

"Where are these heading?" Steven was standing too close not that Y/n seemed to realize as they began walking again.

She didn't notice the extra pairs of eyes that followed her from across the court they were walking through as she looked up at Steven while replying. Steven noticed though as he felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise up and caused him to glance behind him as if he was being tailed but saw no one.

"Oh, these are going back to Papa's office," she explained "He had me help with some transcriptions from the Latin books for the next sermon. I was just going to return them to his person shelves." she responded as they walked.

"Ah, I see." the boy licked his lips nervously. "Hey, Y/n...are you close with Papa? I couldn't help but notice how often you interact with him. N-not that I was like...watching you or anything it's just...Papa's a big figure around here and I don't notice him giving any special attention to any of the other siblings besides a few passing words, y'know?" Steven mentioned nervously.

Y/n's brows furrowed thoughtfully, her mouth twisted sideways in a cute little expression. "Oh, I don't know. I'd say so. He often asks for my help because my major in college had been history and language so I've very good with Latin. I just think he doesn't like to do the paperwork himself." her laugh was sweet.

"Why do you ask?"

Steven shrugged. "Nothing...just like I said, he seems to favor you a lot and you're always seen with his ghouls too so...just wondering." he shrugged a shoulder.

The girl smiled fondly at the mention of the ghouls as she looked down as she walked. "Yeah, I suppose that's accurate. They like to make themselves useless when not practicing or being on tour and since I'm, as you mentioned, I am always being sought out by Papa I suppose they see me as a close confidante." she mused before laughing again

"They are amazing creatures aren't they?"

But Steven wasn't laughing. In fact, his face had fallen a bit and twisted into an expression that made Y/n feel uncomfortable when she finally looked up at him.

"I don't think so, no." he replied finally "They give me the ick. They're always so intimidating and just...stand there staring at you like some bad omen. When they aren't causing havoc at least. I don't know how many vases I had to clean up or replace charred marks and broken walls because of them. They're like children...very very disrespectful children." he grumbled.

Y/n stopped in her tracks as she listened to his words; a frown pulling at her mouth as she stared at him. "They aren't bad creatures, Steven. Sure they like to have some fun but I mean...if you threw a big party something would be bound to happen like broken things and a hole in the wall or two. It's no different." she said quietly as she defended the ghouls.

"Seriously? They're literal demons, Y/n!" Steven turned towards her seeing the expression of disapproval on her face.

Y/n took a breath to collect herself before saying anything that would accelerate the issue. "Steven," she said trying to keep her voice calm and even.

"I don't like the way you are speaking about them. The ghouls are incredible creatures; yes, literal demons. They don't harm the siblings and are a great help around the Abbey. Please don't disrespect them like that. Disrespecting them is like insulting and disrespecting Papa and his judgment." she shook her head. "I won't allow it."

Steven just stared at her as if he was rethinking something and didn't notice the figures walking towards them from up the hall. The pair just stared at each other before a smooth voice tinged with dark intent spoke up from behind Steven causing both siblings to turn their attention to the dark-clad figures standing there.

"Is there a problem here?"

Y/n's expression softened slightly upon seeing the familiar silver masks. "Swiss and Aether! What a surprise." her smile widened.

"What are you two doing? Don't you have practice?" she asked tilting her head and watching them with those big innocent eyes she always gave them.

Aether tipped his head and raised a hand to give her a little wave. "Hey there sweetpea," he ignore the not-so-subtle scoff Steven gave before continuing. "Practice just got out! Where are you heading?"

"Oh, just to Papa's office, I finished up those translations he needed help on the other day; just returning his books to him! How'd practice go?" she asked in return and Steven sighed obviously not pleased at this turn of events.

This made Swiss, who had yet to say a word besides his initial approach, to snap his head towards him in such a way one could have mistaken him for Dewdrop if it wasn't for their stature differences.

"Something the matter, Steven?" he asked far too calmly for his usual personality - the tone he used just for his name alone was so condescending that Y/n and Aether both turned to look toward the pair.

"Yeah, actually." Steven straightened up and glared at Swiss. "You're interrupting us." he stated in bravado.

Y/n's mouth opened to scold the boy but Swiss took one large step towards the Brother in a way that was menacing even to Y/n's eyes.

"Is that right?"

Aether absently reached out to grab a hold of Y/n's shoulders and gently pull her away from the pair and wrap an arm around her shoulders to keep her from pushing her way between the agitated males.

"Yeah, that's right. Me and Y/n were busy." Steven had to look up towards Swiss since he was a few inches shorter. "You can say your pleasantries and then go back to whatever you Ghouls do. Like, cause trouble."

Swiss' teeth flashed in his signature swiss smile that was all white straight teeth but the smile was anything but friendly as he bore down on the other; inching downwards until Steven had to take a half step back to gain space.

"Listen to me, you worthless excuse for a mortal boy," Swiss' voice was rough with a demonic edge that caused Steven's eyes to widen a bit in fear. "You don't disrespect Y/n, ever."

"You don't belittle her for her interests, you don't disrespect her preferences, and you sure as hell won't stand here acting all high and mighty as if you have a claim to her."

"Swiss-" Y/n started taking a step forward but Aether's grip tightened and he pulled her back against his side.

"Not the right time, lovie. Let him say his peace...it's better than cleaning up a body." the Quintessence ghoul murmured to her but even he too was watching his packmate like a hawk to make sure he doesn't have to jump in to stop him from tearing the sibling's throat out.

"She isn't yours-" Steven began but Swiss cut him off; literally, with a clawed hand gripping the boy's throat and pulling him closer - the glow of his demonic eyes behind the mask eerie and causing the boy to tremble.

"That's where you are mistaken...Y/n's mine. She's ours. So the next time I see you anywhere near her or talking to her with anything other than respect..." Swiss' head tilted to the side

"I will give you a reason to call us demons of hell."

With that, the Multi-ghoul let go of the other and snatched the stack of books from his grasp before jerking his chin. "Now scram, you haven't finished your assigned chores yet." back was that playful ghoul Y/n was used to as his smile grew from threatening to even worse because he was now smiling like he usually did - all friendly and jokes. All of them knew that was far scarier than the earlier smile he had on because he was playing it off as if nothing happened even while the threat hung heavy in the air.

Nobody would find the body, Y/n was sure of it. She didn't say anything though and just clutched the books tighter to herself but she was not afraid. Steven sort of did ask for it with the way he was speaking about the ghouls; she couldn't find it in herself to feel sorry for him for pissing off Swiss.

But as the sibling scrambled down the hall, tripping over his own two feet, Swiss turned around as if nothing happened before joining his packmate and Sister.

"Papa's office you said?" he asked as he sidled up to them.

"Mhm." Y/n nodded slowly. Aether let go of the girl and instead grabbed the stack of books she was holding before the pair began escorting her down the hall toward Papa's office.

They did not say anything as they walked and said nothing still while they put away the books but as Aether left the room to wait in the hall it was only Swiss and Y/n left in the office. The Sister was busy writing down a note for Papa on a sticky note on the desk when she felt a presence behind her. She straightened up but didn't look back at Swiss.

"You didn't have to threaten him, you know." her voice was soft in the quietness of the office.

Swiss tilted his head to watch the side of her face as he idly picked up a strand of her hair. "Oh, but I did, sweetheart. He disrespected you. No one does that." he replied casually but there was a lilt in his voice that made Y/n turn her head to look at him; not that she would see much with the mask on but her eyes met him through the mask and she found herself entangled in their colors.

"It's not about the disrespect Swiss. I could have handled it, I was handling it." she protested quietly with a pointed look. "Tell me the truth, because I know that display out there wasn't because someone disrespected me. You would have just given him a slap on the wrist with a well-placed Swiss-style insult."

She turned around to find his body caging her against the edge of the desk. "That display out there, that was something different entirely." she scanned the mask as if she was trying to see his expression through the metal.

"Do you really want me to say it?" the ghoul gripped the edge of the desk on either side of her as he bent his frame over hers.

"I'm not stupid Swiss but I think it's warranted to say out loud so that it's in the air." she raised her chin stubbornly; casting her face closer to his by default as her bright eyes stared up daringly into his.

A rumble vibrated in his chest and but she didn't feel intimidated or scared even when she felt the leathery tip of his tail snaking up her leg and tightening like a boa around her thigh while his large hands gripped her waist; the sharp tips of his claws digging into the soft flesh beneath her habit to pull her closer until they were chest to chest.

"You are mine, Y/n." his voice was deep as he stared down into her wide eyes. "You've been mine since the first damned time you laid your eyes on me. No one. no one threatens to take you away from me."

Y/n breath lodged in her throat as she reached up to cup his jaw; feeling the stubble growing there - rough and prickly against her fingertips. "You're an idiot." her words made him pause as she let it out in a controlled breath.

"One big idiot. To ever think anybody could compare to you." her hands gripped his collar and yanked him down to crash her lips against his, that was anything but sweet.

Teeth clanked and nipped, hands gripped tight and yanked until there were bruises surely to be left until oxygen burned out and she pulled back; crashing against the desk to steady herself as she bit her bottom lip swollen from his bites and kisses.

"And," she finally breathed out. "You're a bigger idiot for thinking that you were the only one with an obsession, Swiss." his name left her lips like a taunt as she gave him a slow curling smile that had his blood boiling.

That look alone made the Multi-ghoul surge forward only to be stopped by her hand gripping his collar just centimeters before he could latch his mouth over hers again.

"But I'm not easy." she used her grip on his collar to push him back a few steps before straightening herself up. "And I won't be easy to catch." she brushed past him to leave the room.

Swiss chuckled low; echoing in the empty room with a darkness only those of hell could achieve. As Y/n began leaving the room she heard his parting words and they caused a thrill to race through her blood.

"Run... run... run, little rabbit. The hunt is on."

Taglist: @darklylucid @strawberry-moonpies

#Ghost #Ghost Band #ghost swedish band #swiss #swiss multi ghoul #swiss ghoul x reader #swiss x reader #swiss ghoul #multi ghoul

482 notes · View notes

themoodyestj · 2 months ago

Note

https://youtu.be/6MQHu9XELP0

https://youtu.be/mIm-Sxgw4Kg

https://youtu.be/28LA3dd4sSQ

have fun

So, first of all, I would like to say I find it very interesting that all of these videos are from 8 years ago, and none of them is recent. Talk about living in the past! But hey, I skimmed them (Its 1 h and a half of footage, and honestly, none of this is fun, not even for Jensen, trust me). Here are my thoughts:

youtube

Minute 22:30. "Youre asking if Dean is going to have a relationship? No. However, if there was a huntress, you guys would kill her." Notice how Misha gets up when he hears the word "Huntress", clearly displeased, and sits back down, crosses his arms. The crowd laughs, Misha lets out a very forced laugh, and Jensen looks at him, looking like the cat who ate the cream. Plain to see Jensen is all over Destiel, right? Even because he adds "So, no. Im destined to a life of solitude!" Wow, not even a mention of Destiel. So very strange. Man, he wouldnt touch Misha with a ten feet pole. Yikes. That part was surely interesting, because Jensen refers to all of the scenes he could have had with women, and Misha, of course, causally mentions (wink wink) how much of an influence the public has that they dont realize. Jensen quips: "You just found the line. Right there." Then this:

youtube

The same panel where Jensen was clearly distraught, possibly having a nervous breakdown, because of, well... Hellers. His true "fans". The panel when Jensen did this:

Also the panel where he looked unhinged and cried. And then this one:

youtube

Both this and the previous one are actually after Jensen was called a homophobic douchebag by... Hellers. After he said Destiel doesnt exist. In both panels he was clearly tense, and of course more lenient, because he had already been harrassed enough... by yous guys. In this last one he is incredibly professional and courteous and not intimate at all. So... Are those your pride flags? Is this how you stan a fave? By bullying him into submission because he doesnt please your masturbatory fantasies? Is this your fandom? Are you guys so delusional that you take courtesy for intimacy and threaten a man if he doesn't dance to your music? And Misha is happy through it all. Making profit out of someone else's misery. Karma is a bitch, though. He's unemployed, now. I have to say, this is no flex. This is just proof how spineless people can be. How disgusting one can become for the sake of FANFICTION. Thank you for showing us your true ugly colors. Not that we didnt know about them before. Barf. All of this is so disgusting. I'm gonna go and try to unsee this, thank you very much.

#anti misha #anti destiel #anti hellers #anti cockles

33 notes · View notes

thetwstwildcard · 2 months ago

Text

"I'm always playing extremes, either the vulnerable girl or the vixen~."

Full Name: Lovette Sieglinde

Gender: Female

Pronouns: She/Her

Age: 19

Sexuality: Bisexual

Birthday: February 25th

Star Sign: Pisces

Height: 161 cm (roughly 5'3)

Eye Color: Fuchsia

Hair Color: Black

Dominant Hand: Left

Voice Claim: Aya Endō (Japanese) Reba Buhr (English)

Inspiration: Spinning Wheel

Homeland: Origin unknown, currently lives in Briar Valley

Dorm: Diasomnia

Year: 3

Club: Movie Appreciation

Best Subject: Ancient Curses

Worst Subject: P.E ( excels physically but despises being sweaty and messy hair)

Favorite Food: Rabbit

Likes: Flirting with others, getting what she wants, being adored, being told she's pretty, brushing her hair, self care, helping "cute" underclassmen, and being desired

Dislikes: Physical activity, being seen as just a pretty face (even if she uses that as a mask), broken mirrors, her nightmares, love/notions of "true love", people who try to get too close, and remembering her past

Personality: A flirty fox given a human form by a now deceased sorcerer. She will flirt to get her way, whether it be items or actions. She can be seen as vain, but that's a facade she refuses to remove. While she hates being seen as just a pretty face, she uses it to her advantage. She can be a bit bossy and childish (pouty) if things don't go her way. She will attempt to use her assets to get her way when given the chance.

Unique Magic: Vixen's Spell: Temporarily connects her targets string of fate to herself, allowing her to manipulate them to do what she wants. The more people she uses it on at once, the more draining it becomes on her. The effect is stronger on those attracted to her/who find her attractive.

Fox's Cradle: Can manipulate inorganic materials to trap her enemies (or use as projectiles) but it is EXTREMELY draining to her (as she has to draw blood) so she tends to avoid using it. If she does overdo it, she will be forcefully reverted back to her full fox form for 24 hours to rest (Ambrose's UM/ Her creator's magic)

Trivia

She is a fox given a human form

She's has a magic stone embedded in her back as she was the prototype of her "master" giving animals human forms

If the stone breaks, she will be trapped in her fox form

When her master died, he gave Lovette all of his magic power, she currently can use ≈ 50%

Her name was given to her by her "creator," Ambrose Sieglinde

While not technically the oldest, she is the Sieglinde who has had human form the longest and so is the proclaimed "oldest"

Is very protective over her siblings (3 sisters and 1 brother)

If she gets angry, more fox traits show (longer claws and sharper canines)

Loves to feel wanted, but is disgusted by it

"Needs" to be needed

Afraid/hates love due to connecting love with pain (had to watch Ambrose, her first love, be killed) as well as people mistaking lust/obsession for love

Is haunted by Ambrose's death and tends to use her charms to manipulate others so she can forget her pain (even if its only for a while)

Due to Ambrose's death, she is terrified of fire

The stone is her back in a physical rendition of Ambrose's magic

If she over uses her UM on someone, she can effectively make them insane (can only think of her)

#twst oc #twisted wonderland oc #oc #twstoc #twst ocs #twst #twisted wonderland #diasomnia #diasomnia oc #Lovette Sieglinde #Lovette revamp #first of the main 7 #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #twsted wonderland #twisted oc #oc art #main 7

38 notes · View notes

yellow-yarrow · 10 months ago

Text

director's commentary for this post (lmao) because I like yapping

the reason why I choose these artworks is not just because they looked good, I thought it was interesting how they treat colors, light and rot

Damien Hirst's Black Sun is made of many dead flies, people have said that this artwork smells gross up close. Its theme is obviously death and disgust (like most of his works), he has also said the flies represent people, and quotes Hobbes saying that people's life without a government is bad and tragic (which I HEAVILY disagree with)

Hirst sells his works for millions of dollars, it's highly commercialized, some have accused him of money laundering and such. Insert the Wompty-Dompty Dom Centre thought:

Problem It's Wednesday evening and something heinously exciting is under way. People have gathered beneath the billowing roof of an oddly shaped trophy building, sipping wine and exchanging opinions. 29-year-old wunder-twins Guy and Keith Joost are the stars of the show, with their bomber jackets and white sneakers -- head curators of this art exhibition. It's the wompty-dom-di-dommiest event of the year and all the cool kids have RSVP’d. Where are you, if you are not there? Solution You're at home, stupid cop, not with the art crowd. You hate them, everyone hates them, even they hate themselves. It's nauseating -- an industry built on sprezzatura and sparkling wine. And, let’s be honest, tax evasion schemes. The Wompty Dompty Dom Centre is the heart of this unholy symbiosis of esthetics and tax optimization, and now that you've internalized it – you can have a piece too!

personally, for me, it invokes disgust both on an aesthetic level (dead flies) and in a conceptual level (rich guy using death to make millions). Tieing this into black being the color of money in Elysium, and the end of the world.

Malevich's Black square is a painting without an object, it doesn't represent the material world, it is independent of it. but at the same time, black is the density of matter in the white empty space.

He said this about this art: "[Black Square is meant to evoke] the experience of pure non-objectivity in the white emptiness of a liberated nothing." "It is from zero, in zero, that the true movement of being begins." (x) ‘In the year 1913, trying desperately to free art from the dead weight of the real world, I took refuge in the form of the square.’ (x)

Important context for this work (like many other black paintings) is that it was made around the time of the world wars, and the russian revolution. Black paintings express the trauma of the world wars, and in this case the revolutionary approach to art too.

quoting from the article I linked:

Malevich had been collaborating with the musician Mikhail Matyushin and the poet Aleksei Kruchenykh on a manifesto which called for the rejection of rational thought. They wanted to overturn the established systems and hierarchies of Western society. Together with poet Velimier Khlebnikov they staged Victory over the Sun, where the characters aimed to abolish reason by capturing the sun and destroying time. The libretto used Kruchenykh’s zaum – a new language of sounds that had no meaning. This sparked something in Malevich.

Similar things apply to White on white. The Moma website describes it better than I would:

[Malevich] "wanted White on White to create a sense of floating and transcendence. White, Malevich believed, was the color of infinity and signified a realm of higher feeling, a utopian world of pure form that was attainable only through nonobjective art. Indeed, he named his theory of art Suprematism to signify “the supremacy of pure feeling or perception in the pictorial arts”; and pure perception, he wrote, demanded that a picture’s forms “have nothing in common with nature.” In 1918, soon after the Russian Revolution, the connotations of this sense of liberation were not only aesthetic but also social and political. Malevich expressed his exhilaration in a manifesto one year later: “I have overcome the lining of the colored sky. . . . Swim in the white free abyss, infinity is before you.”

These molding fruits made out of gemstones by Kathleen Ryan make me think of Damien Hirst's bedazzled Skull artwork, decadence, kitsch, death. The gemstones make the mold feel like it has value, importance, like it's almost sacred. The pale as a "sacred and terrible smell"

Rothko's paintings heavily empathize colors, paintings like these invite us to really experience those colors and be moved by them.

From the Disco Elysium artbook:

Eyes are direct, unmediated input to the brain. You like or dislike something before you have a chance to reason about it. It affects you emotionally without offering you a chance to throw up intellectual defenses first. Witnessing death and good art are materially equivalent experiences: they are visual information transmitted straight to the centers of emotion by way of the eye. This might explain why a person could tear up in the presence of a Rothko painting. If you’re a sensitive enough instrument, seeing his Orange, Red, Yellow in real life feels intense. It doesn’t work on a computer screen though, you’re just staring at some bright pixels imitating the appearance of the painting the same way seeing a dead person is different from seeing a picture of a dead person.

El Lissitzky was also an important figure in russian avant-garde, like Malevich. Well. I put this one in here cause it looked nice and because of the theme of light and the lack of (it's a gelatin silver photograph).

maybe this adds something to the discussion of the symbolism of colors and light in Elysium

#long post /#I love art history and talking about art so much #what do i tag this #its going into my #de meta #tag

73 notes · View notes

sgiandubh · 1 year ago

Text

Pretzel logic

I never liked funerals - who does? - and I have always tried to avoid them, under different pretexts. This is one of the moments we meet the Great Beyond and we are at our most vulnerable. It's only fair and it is not something to be taken lightly, ever.

August 10, 2022 happened a few days before I decided to give OL a try and by the time I landed in here, that YouTube live had already been taken offline, perhaps with good reason.

That people watched it should come as no surprise to anybody: it happens in all cultures and societies - Death fascinates us and makes us curious, even if it's a questionable, voyeuristic kind of curiosity. It was posted for everyone to see, on the biggest content streaming platform on planet Earth. It was posted in consideration of the ending peak moment of the COVID pandemic, to allow for more people to attend, with the family's prior consent. It was most probably shot from the organ balcony, at a respectful distance and I am being told the streaming was blurry: a good thing, if you ask me. People screeching for "more clarity" of those screenshots should, in my humble opinion, think twice: context and taboo and all that.

That people saw something bizarre in the front pew was unavoidable. That the said detail (Occam's Razor would help us conclude that ambiguous things are usually anything but...) was screenshot, edited and made its way in here and elsewhere - impossible to control. However, I have not read any disrespectful comments about the event. Nobody snarked. Nobody grinned. A hole in the plot was pointed out, adding to the whole array of inconsistencies and if I remember well, it was almost missed out entirely (a taboo is a taboo, after all) and started its career online only days after.

Was it shared ad nauseam? Maybe - but who the hell am I to judge? Again, not something you can control, unless you set yourself up as the Torquemadas of this fandom and slap everybody on the wrist with your twisted righteousness. When your people discuss the Data Lounge findings in great, lewd detail, that is called having fun and (I love that one, don't you?) gossiping, as if you were just talking about Miss Scarlett's new petticoat, not a man's reputation. When our people dare to post pictures from a public event, or published for public consumption, that is immediately taxed as being insane or snooping.

A neutral person venturing in here would call out the bias immediately. I call out your hypocrisy and have no problem doing it in writing. And I never peddled neutrality, in here: I simply peddled decency and I remind everyone I have probably never posted any pictures from August 10, 2022 (I will triple check later, but I am pretty sure I didn't). It is a personal choice and, as you know very well, I am not alone in the Shipper community. Far from it.

That you chose August 10 to post the largest, most consistent amount of content I have read on your blogs during the last six months, shows me once more what I already knew: you simply can't help yourself, can you? It's all about slap-a-shipper day, even if this community remained remarkably silent and collected, yesterday. Extremes exist, they are a fact of life: silencing them is useless and unproductive, at least as far as I am concerned.

You have once again showed me your true colors, Mordor. At the end of the day, you do not really have a problem with the pictures floating out there. What you do have a BIG problem with, is the person sitting in the front pew and you would go to great lengths - to any lengths, for that matter - to disguise it under a thick sanctimonious cloak of civic disgust. Your shrieks backfire: if anything, they confirm, not deny. And for the sake of politics, anything goes. It is, therefore, ironic, that in order to post your reasoning, you did look, in great detail and for a consistent amount of time, at the same exact screenshots and pictures you send to hell so gleefully.

Spare me the dramatics.

#fandom

156 notes · View notes

tobysbliss · 1 year ago

Text

its “believe all victims” until its one of dream’s, isnt it?

some of these people are actually fucking disgusting. and it’s why i’ve not shut up about this yet, because this is being entirely ignored and disregarded by some people and it SHOULDN’T be by ANYBODY. if you are supporting dream, you are showing your true colors; YOU DO NOT GIVE A FLYING FUCK ABOUT GROOMING VICTIMS.

if you are anything like angie. if you still support dream. fuck you. fuck. you. you are a fucking disgusting piece of shit.

as a victim of grooming, i have been beyond disgusted by dream & the behavior of his fans. those videos had me physically ill for hours. i feel terrible for that girl, my heart goes out to her & any other victims that there were. the more i see about this the more sick and disgusted i feel .

dream is disgusting.

dream is a freak.

and so are you, if you still fucking support him.

#people make me fucking sick.#dream neg #dream situation #dream is a freak #drop dream #fuck dream

104 notes · View notes

void-ink-studios · 1 year ago

Text

Hidden Treasure

I put out a poll, and the people have loudly spoken. It's still up for a few hours, since I can't make polls last shorter than 24 hours, but there's a very clear winner.

Enjoy your food, y'all.

You can check out my other works with the links here:

Wrath of the Wishmaster

Touch of Light

Memories of the Homeland

Word Count: 3,000

Scarab had known for a long time that he was not what anyone would describe as pleasant to look at. That was something his coworkers had made certain he understood.

He knew bugs were not considered beautiful up close. There were parts people liked about them, the parts that get pinned and displayed in collections. The wings and carapace often shimmered with colors found nowhere else.

Maybe that's why his shell was the only part Scarab didn't feel the need to hide.

People admired it like a piece of art. They'd ooh and aah and admire from a distance.

Only from a distance.

Because people's admiration of bugs tended to stop once you get close enough to notice details.

No one liked the micro hairs in his joints. No one liked how he seemed to click and clack when he moved, like a doll. No one liked his needle-like claws that always seemed very slightly sticky.

And no one liked his face.

When he had first joined the pantheon, it was one of the first things he learned.

His face was called a lot of things. Unsightly. Unpleasant. Creepy. Gross.

His eyes were called too big. Too wide. Too intense a stare for people to handle.

His mouth was called disgusting. A horror show. Nightmarish.

When he had antenna, they were called unsettling with how they twitched and moved seemingly randomly.

He'd heard all of these things and more, both long before and long after he donned the mask.

No one liked eating near him, because no one wanted to see his proboscis and mandibles. No one liked walking next to him, because no one wanted to hear his odd clicking joints or an accidental chirp. And certainly no one liked looking him in the eye, because no one wanted to feel his stare of his too-wide eyes.

So no one sees his face, unless it's to intimidate. Because that was its only acceptable use, these days.

Scarab had accepted all of these factors long ago. He had accepted that companionship was off the table for him amongst the gods. The parts of him that would've made him preen back home are now objects of scorn and disgust. He accepted he was meant to be scorned, and it just made his job as Auditor simpler.

Which is why he was utterly baffled by Prismo and his behavior towards him.

Because Prismo threw everything he'd ever been taught about the gods out the window.

Scarab had been dreading his punishment as Prismo's assistant. Part of why he worked so hard as a God Auditor was so he had to spend as little time with other gods as possible. As much as he was used to their insults and disgust, it didn't mean he wanted to stick around and take them. But now, he was trapped, in a tiny room, with nothing but him and a Wishmaster he had trapped in a cube and tried to destroy. Prismo had more reason to hate him than almost anyone else.

But Prismo seemed more fascinated than revolted by his insectoid features. He encouraged them, even.

Eons of being trained out of his heritage, erased by a pink dream shadow, and an ounce of kindness and understanding.

They'd adapted to each other, quite thoroughly. Prismo had come to understand the many clicks and trills and chirps Scarab would make. He had given him liberty to make burrows into the Time Room walls to let him feel comfortable and safe. He'd even indulged his need to climb and crawl and explore in whatever little ways he can.

It was the first taste of true understanding Scarab had felt since he had left home.

And he hated himself for how much he craved it.

It was all Prismo's fault. Scarab had accepted his lot in life. He'd come to understand that friendship was not in the cards for him. But, there the Wishmaster was, throwing that understanding into chaos, filling his heart with stupid, poisonous hope.

Scarab was not meant for hope.

He was not meant for love.

The realization that that was what he was feeling sent the beetle spiraling for days. He of course did the not cowardly thing, totally didn't spend most of several days hiding in various holes he'd made and avoiding Prismo like the plague.

Totally not a cowardly move at all.

When he was over his minor freakout, he chose to swallow the poison down. Do what he always did. Take those feelings, squish them into the size of a marble, lock them in a box, and shove that box to the bottom of him mind.

It's nothing he hadn't done before. One must compartmentalize to cope with the existential dread of realizing you're never going home, everyone you've ever known or love has been dead for a very long time, and that home probably looks nothing like how you remember it. Shoving down complex emotions is easy.

He just had to remember one thing: Prismo has never seen his face.

It's the only reason he can think of as to why the Wishmaster isn't revolted. Because he hasn't seen the horror show of his face.

Scarab rationalized further. He's not appreciated or liked by Prismo, not really at least. He's just... an oddity. A novelty. Something to gawk at for a few centuries.

Prismo would drop the curiosity the second he sees what Scarab really is.

Because no one liked bugs. Not up close.

But, despite all his rationalizing, Scarab found himself stuck on what to do with it.

A part of him, a weak, spineless part of him, didn't want the kindness to stop. That part of him wanted to keep singing his native songs without scolding, to dig without scorn, to crawl without disgust. Even if he knew it was all novelty that would wear out eventually, the cowardly part of him wanted to prolong it for as long as possible.

But the other part, the one who gave up on being nice to gods a long time ago, wanted to rip the bandaid off, so to speak. That part of him wanted to show Prismo exactly what he's stuck with. It wanted him to drop the niceties already and behave the way gods are supposed to.

He gave you burrows and comforts on your bad days one side argued.

He'll grow bored or annoyed of you at some point, you don't want to get used to kindness by the time that happens the other retorted.

For weeks this debate raged in his head, his roommate none the wiser. He was starting to think this debate would just be the way of things for the time being.

Until, for the seemingly millionth time in his existence, Prismo threw a wrench into the works.

"Hey, Scarab!"

Uh-oh, Prismo sounded excited. That usually means Scarab is about to be dragged into something foolish, but he'd better just roll with it rather than deal with the aftermath later.

"Yes, Prismo?"

"I know you can't smell much, but can you, like taste stuff?"

Scarab blinked, confused at him.

"...Can we even eat in this form?"

"I mean, we don't really need to, but that's no reason to not enjoy snacks every now and then, right?"

Scarab held back the eyeroll. "No, I suppose not. To answer your question, if this form at all matches my corporeal body, then yes, I can taste things just fine."

"Awesome. Can I ask you a favor?"

"I have an inclination I don't have much of a choice, so, sure. What do you want?"

"Try this!"

And suddenly there was a pickle in Scarab's hand. He raised an eyebrow expectantly at the Wishmaster.

"I'm trying a new recipe. Usually I'd ring Cosmic Owl to taste test, but he's busy right now. Something about backed up tokens... Anyway, I figured I might as well ask my buddy!"

Scarab's brain finally caught up to the situation at hand. Prismo wanted him to eat this. In front of him. With no real way to turn around or conceal himself or his face.

Glob dammit.

"Uhm... I'll try it later..."

"Oh c'mon, please? I need to know if this batch is right before I try making more!"

Prismo was beaming at him. Smiling expectantly. When did that smile weaken him this much?

Okay, there was no way around this, not without deflating the Wishmaster's eagerness. Slowly, he opened the bottom of his mask, mandibles and proboscis unfolding clumsily. He kept his eyes off of the one watching him, eating the snack in silence. It was good, he'd give Prismo that, but everything he could say was drowned out by dread.

"I-It's uhm... It's good, Prismo."

There were a few beats of silence. Enough to make Scarab's fingers itch. Enough to draw his eyes back up.

Prismo was staring. At him. At his mouth, which he only just realized he didn't fold back up yet. Oh Glob.

"...Prismo?"

"Sorry, I just... I realized that's the first time I've seen you eat..."

Scarab couldn't place Prismo's emotion in his voice. He didn't stick around long enough to find out.

He clamped his mouth shut, his face plates making a loud cracking sound as they slammed closed in place. One hand unconsciously came up to cover it further.

"I-I'm sorry" he managed to squeeze out just before diving into the Time Room's lower levels.

Hide, hide, need to hide, need to protect, need to hide. He saw, he saw, he hates you, he saw your ugliest parts, he's revolted, hide hide HIDE!

He distantly heard Prismo yell after him, but it fell on clouded ears. Scarab made a mad dash; into the elaborate tunnels he had made throughout the basement, away from everything, away from him.

The beetle curled up into a deep, dark, forgotten corner of the Time Room and shook. He could hear his shell clicking together as he shivered, distressed chirps and trills punishingly falling from his mouth.

He saw. He saw and stared. He knows what you are. No one likes bugs. No one likes bugs like you. No one likes bugs up close.

Don't cry, don't cry, don't you dare cry. This is what you get for hoping. This is what you get for thinking anyone would want to be close to you. Gods squash bugs like you. You're lucky you haven't been yet. You're lucky you're not in a terrarium or pinned up on the wall somewhere.

That voice sounded suspiciously like some of the other gods. It's not like it mattered. He just hoped Prismo never paid attention to where Scarab was building his tunnels.

"Scrabs? Buddy, where are you?"

Scarab squeezed his mandibles tightly shut, trying and failing to block his distressed noises. He used to be so much better at holding these back, when did he lose so much self-control?

He couldn't even swallow down the embarrassing whimper he made when Prismo's bright blue eye locked onto him from the burrow's entrance.

"Scarab, bud, what's wrong dude?"

He wanted to hiss. His hindbrain was telling to hiss, scare away the threat, make him leave, protect the burrow, but none of it was happening. Because hissing would just expose his mouth again...

"...Go away, Prismo..."

"Was the pickle really that bad?"

"No you fool!"

"Then what's wrong? Something's wrong, and I don't wanna leave you hanging."

Something in Scarab's chest snapped.

"Just drop the act, Prismo! Stop pretending to like me already!"

"Woah, woah, what? What act?"

Rage, that was a much easier to understand emotion than the ones Scarab's been grappling with for weeks. Rage was easier to understand than this strange, vague attraction to the Wishmaster, rage was easier to understand than what possible reasons Prismo had to be nice to him, rage was familiar. He was desperate for a return to understandable. So he reveled in it.

"Stop trying to trick me, Prismo! I never thought of you as a cruel god, but you're shaping up to be one of the worst out there! Poisoning my mind with... with this nonsense!"

Prismo seemed to flinch at his tone. Good. Maybe that'll get him to stop whatever it was he was trying to do.

"Scrabby, what are you talking about? I thought we were buddies!"

"That's just what you'd want me to think, isn't it? Try to be my friend, fill my head with hope, so it all comes tumbling down harder. It's quite devious, I'd almost admire it. Tell me, is it something you came up with, or did one of the higher ups give you the idea?"

Prismo's eyes filled with... sadness. No, wait, that's not right... He should be getting angry! Disgusted!

"Scarab..."

"How dare you, Prismo. How dare you make me think I'm... that I'm something tolerable to be around. No one likes bugs, Prismo! I learned that lesson a long time ago. No one likes bugs, unless to pin them on the wall or pull their legs off! So stop pretending like you're not revolted by me and just get on with it!"

In one final act of defiance, he opened up his mask entirely, hissing and putting on full display his disgusting face. His mandibles clicked wildly, and his eyes bore right into Prismo's.

There, that ought to do it.

Except Prismo didn't seemed frightened. Just... sad. No, no, that's not what he's supposed to feel... No, no, that's not correct.

His hiss wavered, his voice starting to break.

He saw something pink move closer to him. He closed his eyes and braced himself. For what, he didn't know. But he knew to expect something.

Except, it didn't come. Tenderly, he opened one eye, to see Prismo's hand, about a foot away from him.

Just like he had done when he found him in the pickle cubby...

Don't cry don't cry don't cry don't... cry...

"S-Stop it... Please, just... stop..."

Prismo made no move closer. But he didn't pull his hand back either. Scarab flexed his clawed hand for a moment. He could swipe, and the Wishmaster would feel it but...

He couldn't...

He awkwardly reached his hand forward, letting it overlap into that vibrant purple. His entire form shivered at the contact, especially Prismo's thumb petting his claws.

"Don't you dare, Prismo... Don't you dare make me feel like... like you actually care..."

"I'm sorry no one's made you feel like that before."

Scarab's breath hitched. He shook his head. Don't cry don't cry don'tcrydon'tcrydon't-

"Can you come out of the hole, Scarab?"

The hold on Scarab's hand lightly tugged him forward. He wasn't sure why, but he let himself be tugged. Maybe he was just too tired to fight it anymore. Prismo at least gave him the privilege of staying mostly in the hole, just his head peeking out.

Which was... still open. Prismo was this close to his real face...

Scarab panicked and tried to close it back up, but a soft touch stopped him. A hand. A gentle one, on his cheek.

His cheeks felt wet suddenly. Had he started crying? When did that happen? Regardless, a thumb brushed the tears away, as Scarab was painfully aware of Prismo examining his face.

"You're, like, a little hidden treasure, you know that?"

"...What...?"

"Yeah. I like your eyes... And I'm sorry if me looking at your mouth earlier is what freaked you out... It's just... I'd never seen anything like it before."

"I apologize for inflicting it onto you..."

"Woah, that's not what I meant. Look, I don't know what anyone else might've told you, but I think they just had no taste. I think you're beautiful."

Scarab's mandibles clicked together, his eyes wide in sheer disbelief. Beautiful... Prismo called him beautiful...

"I... I-I... I don't know what to say..."

"Was that too forward?"

"N-No! I've just... never heard... anyone use that word to... describe me..."

"Are you kidding? Have you seen yourself? You're gorgeous. Elegant. I've always thought that. I'm just happy I have the complete picture."

Scarab wasn't sure how or if his dignity could survive this moment, but the sniffle he just made probably didn't help.

"Hey. Can I... try something?"

Scarab gave a tiny little nod. And then suddenly Prismo was kissing him. On his mouth. On his real mouth.

Kissing was not something that came naturally to Scarab. His species did not kiss, not in this way. But Prismo made it feel thoughtless. He closed his eyes and melted into it.

His mandibles even found use, gently cradling the Wishmaster's cheeks before they pulled away. Both of their cheeks were flushed.

"Did you... like that?" Scarab felt stupid for even asking, but his brain had turned to mush the second Prismo touched his cheek. The Wishmaster gave him a warm, kind smile, nodding.

It didn't even end there. The pink projection scooped the beetle up and began peppering soft little kisses all over his face. On his cheeks, between his eyes, on the joints of his mandibles, even right between where his antenna belonged.

The chirps Scarab made should've been a bit embarrassing, but he couldn't bring himself to care at the moment. Not in the first moment in eons he's felt treasured. Valued. Beautiful.

"May I try something?"

"Go ahead, gorgeous."

Scarab held Prismo's face, bringing their foreheads together. The beetle nuzzled that spot tenderly, chirps morphing into purrs almost. He privately mourned his antenna, which he could imagine carding through the Wishmaster's hair.

"Well, aren't you a sweet thing, Lovebug?

Scarab sputtered at that, face flushing a deep shade of blue. He loathed Prismo's smug chuckle as he kissed at his plated neck.

"You're terrible."

"Thanks." He let out a content sigh, nuzzling back against Scarab's head. "...Can we head back upstairs now? I think someone needs some more smooches on his gorgeous little face."

"You are actually insufferable. But... yes. I would like that."

The two stayed practically glued together for quite a while afterwards. There was a warmth now. A light, pleasant warmth, one that filled up the Time Room quite nicely as they cuddled. Scarab's chirps echoed softly off the walls as Prismo rubbed pleasant circles in his back.

And Scarab, for the first time in thousands of years, didn't feel the need to put his mask back on.

He didn't need to. Not for Prismo.

Who seemed to like bugs much more than one might expect.

#prohibitedwish #scarab x prismo #scarab the god auditor #prismo the wishmaster #prohibitedwish fanfic #Wrath of the Wishmaster

59 notes · View notes