Bill Cipher Vs. Self-Hatred
Howdy y'all!
Today I just wanted to go over some thoughts I had over everybody's favorite triangle that may or may not have occurred to some of you already. Naturally this will contain Book of Bill Spoilers.
To start off our little essay I thought it would be important to first sum up my thoughts on one of Bill's more complicated relationships:
Stanford
Now we've all seen his dynamic with Stanford plenty of times in the show but with recent information coming from both the Book of Bill and thisisnotawebsitedotcom.com more light has been shed on the subject from both Bill's perspective and Ford's.
There's more than meets the eye when it comes to dissecting Bill's interactions and thoughts on Stanford, with the ever enlightening "EVEN HIS LIES ARE LIES" making theorists scratch their heads.
Within the Book of Bill are these codes and their meanings:
hbh grfwru ri d gliihuhqw nlqg/ zkr zdqw wr pdnh klv sdwlhqw eolqg
eye doctor of a different kind/ who wants to make his patient blind
Qeb alzqlo pxvp/ qeobb pfmp x axv/ tfii jxhb qeb sfpflkp/ dl xtxv
The doctor says/ three sips a day/ will make the visions/ go away
Ixvvb hdwhu/ edeb eloob/ zrxogq'w gulqn/ xqohvv lwv vloob
Fussy eater/ baby billy/ wouldn't drink/ unless its silly
As well as:
Finding out that both Stanford and Bill have a genetic mutation that made them Black Sheep suggests the possibility that Bill saw a kinship within Stanford. After all, he did make the offer for Stanford to join him. No doubt being able to sympathize with Stanford's situation yet misreading his motivations, causing the rift in their once savable relationship once Bill's lies were uncovered.
Now I'll admit it was others who came up with this theory in particular, especially when drawing comparisons of how Stanford was treated and how Bill allegedly was for having a strange eye. Stanford, in some form of other, might represent how Bill was before he saw the destruction of his world by his hands.
A mere outcast looking for his place in the world. To be believed rather than ridiculed or "fixed".
Self-Hatred
And now we get to the Bill we all know today:
The chaos loving and nightmare inducing three-sided maniac, who may be hiding more insecurities than he ever let on in the show, thanks to the Theraprism.
Someone far more traumatized
Who's had to convince himself to fully be the bastard he is today
But if the theory that Bill had a type of kinship with Stanford thanks to their mutations was true, then wouldn't it be possible that his relationship with someone else might represent the inner struggle with himself?
For you see, the original title of this post was...
Bill Cipher Vs. Stanley Pines
As my own theory is that Stanley Pines is what Bill decided to project his self-hatred on. Nobody can doubt that the two have similar qualities, yet as I read the Book of Bill and thisisnotawebsitedotcom I couldn't help but notice the absolute malice that Bill has for Stanley whenever he's mentioned.
There have been many opponents before that have strived to take Bill down. Whether that was the Shaman, the Anti-Cipher Society, or Time Baby, none of his interactions with them have appeared as vitriol as compared to Stanley.
Not even Stanford has this same reaction, who, by really no contest, was the closest to ever defeating Cipher by himself. Both with the gun that he near successfully killed Bill with and the secret of the barrier of Gravity Falls he refused to give up. Bill didn't even have a real interaction with Stanley until the last episode.
Yet it isn't Stanford that causes Bill to break while he's in the Theraprism. It's Stanley.
"-A resume-inflating, cheap trick loving, past-denying overgrown child protected from failure only by a force field of DENIAL AND shamelessness!"
"Self-pitying"
"Stupid"
"Smug"
"Hack Jokes"
"UNWORTHY"
Now it could be just me, but those are a lot of specific insults to fling somebody's way that you've barely interacted with. Especially if Bill credits the Twin Swap to Stanford entirely as opposed to allowing Stanley the credit.
"STEP RIGHT UP, it's time to play my FAVORITE GAME!! BOOTLEG SIXER over HERE spent a LIFETIME trying to hide his humiliations, BUT I'VE BEEN INSIDE HIS MIND, so NOW they’re ALL YOURS for the low low price of BEING MY NEW PAL! ITS SHOWTIME FOLKS, AND THE ONLY WAY TO LOSE IS TO BE NAMED STANLEY PINES!"
“SHAME:TM - IT'S THE ONE FRIEND WHO NEVER LEAVES!”
This out-of-character hatred doesn't come from the fact that Bill thought Stanley wasn't worthy, it comes from the fact that Bill sees himself in Stan. Who by all means is a lying and conniving screw up. Somebody who let his family down.
This could possibly be proven by the poem Bill had wrote about Stanley:
The whole poem suits my point but I decided to highlight the sections that caught my eye specifically. That when you put into consideration Bill's clear trauma and regret about the Euclidian Massacre, his own words can clearly be flipped back on him.
That he sees himself as a curse and a mistake. A self-made monster. Someone who's left the past behind when the loss of his home is still on his mind.
And what truly gets under Bill's skin about Stanley Pines?
"He got his life and family back.
His big break, it finally came,
Redemption from a life of shame"
Stanley got back what Bill can't.
527 notes
·
View notes
Luxor🎡
random astrology notes
I hope you guys enjoy! I will be doing custom, in-depth readings soon, however these notes are drawn from personal observation. Do not steal, rewrite, or copy any of my original writing. All rights reserved. © 2024 The Siren Isles Photos are of me or from pinterest. If it does not apply, let it fly. support here.
🎡 Mars in the 12th is such an interesting placement. When I found out I had this placement in sidereal (I generally prefer tropical) my dreams made so much sense. I literally dream in the Universe of a John Wick, sometimes Apocalyptic action movie! LOL Besides that, this is a late bloomer indicator. Mars natural fiery nature is hindered in the watery abyss of darkness or Chaos that is the 12th house. It’s like fighting in the dark. The assertion and ferocity of the native can be snipped when young. They’ll have a hard time showing their anger or competitiveness. In result, this also makes others project (12th house) negative traits like aggression (Mars) onto you! Your moves are hidden from the eye and some haters can’t stand that. You’re easily made the villain. But, through the pursuit of spiritual enlightenment and sometimes a very messy cathartic release… a spiritual warrior is reborn!
Uranus aspects can be defined by their celestial counterpart:
sun - uranus: You need to be seen (like the sun) making a difference. where can you be a beacon or example of radical change?
mercury - uranus: What high level thoughts are you thinking but not saying (Mercury) that could create drastic transformation?
jupiter - uranus Where can you be a generous benefactor to create change or spiritual teacher (Jupiter) of transformational knowledge.. or just new ideas?
🎡 SYNASTRY SOULMATE indicator: Vertex conjunct IC ( Imum Coeli) As a leo moon and pisces venus who just LOVES true LOVE. This is such an incredibly powerful love placement that I can personally attest to!! 🥰 The Vertex is referred to as the fated point or destiny point. Imum Coeli (IC) translates to “bottom of the sky”. It’s indicative of one’s roots and basic needs for emotional security. Having Vertex conjunct someone’s IC is a type of love that stops you in your tracks. Your breath is taken. You know them from a past life, are instantly comfortable with them, and they feel like home. I’ve read this is popular within married couples, but I also read that it’s rare. I’d love to know if anyone has experienced this. The power of this connection is marked with profoundly deep transformation for both parties, emotional wound healing, and a shared destiny. Things can get tricky if you weren’t ready for this fated meeting because the IC person may not want to leave this person’s side.
🎡 Saturn-Ascendant is so freaking stressful, my goodness. Moment of silence for these natives. (me included) Oh, the need to be great but the fear of failing! Oh, the obstacles! Oh, the need to critique to perfection. Oh, the need to present with full control. The self imposed fun-police. Oh, when does it get easy?? IT WILL.🤞🏾In the meantime, just smize 😗 for the Gods with that heavenly bone structure!
🎡 Gemini placements live such interesting lives! They are the magicians tarot card come to life. (literally, it’s associated with Mercury) The men are the types to successfully convince multiple women to be in a polyamorous relationship. I have seen it! My Gemini guy friend had like 3 girlfriends. But, he somehow made time for all of them and they were content! The Aquarius in me was baffled! LOL. These magic men seem to have a powerful charm over the Venus ruled signs, which checks out due to Thoth(Gemini) and Ma’at (Libra) being married in Ancient Kemetic mythology. But, also Pisces!! I knew a pair with these signs and they were like besties turned lovers, but only on the Gemini’s terms.😐Mercurian energy can be so fleeting, but so powerful when in close proximity. They will stay only if they want (or need lol don’t get used). If you want to know if a Gemini placement is serious about you…. words of intention mean little to nothing for an air sign, watch those actions!
🎡 Pluto Sextile Uranus natal placement is such a powerful fandom/ fame indicator in this lifetime. It literally just makes sense for this Uranus in Aquarius generation (roughly 1996-2003) of “Influencers”. Uranus in Aquarius (collective) + Pluto in Aquarius (obsession & power) = the crazy ass fandoms that follow the lives of these natives: Zendaya, Jeon Jung-kook, Billie Eilish, Park Ji-min, Bella Hadid, Jenner sisters, & the list goes on! Pluto will be in Aquarius until 2043! So, if you were born in these years and have a Uranus Pluto aspect, I advise you to find your niche & get a fandom lol Most have Pluto in Sagittarius, so it could be teaching something or selling a skill (like youtube or online courses).
🎡 Mars in Taurus or at Taurus degrees (2, 14, etc.) natives tend to have such a beautiful physique. Like, Mars refines itself when in contact with Venus. The mix ends up being so addictive to others & if you have this.. you know what I mean! Tender lover. Women with this placement are graceful and sensual by nature, often with a womanly shape. Men with this placement can have “Godly” beautiful physical qualities like broad shoulders and chiseled back dimples. Very beautiful indeed. I feel Capricorn also refines Mars in a very structured way.
🎡 Venus placements (Taurus & Libra) in a man’s chart tend to make them a bit bougie! Lol Venus rules self worth, aesthetics etc. and they may feel like a woman should have certain qualities, dress a certain way, and fulfill certain duties! Blessed with looks or charm (Libra especially), they can become quite content and spoiled by the women in their lives. Let’s not forget Taurus is the moon exalted placement! Mama’s boy, anyone?
🎡 Aries placements parents are NOT for the weak! Especially if you have an outer planets sun (Scorpio to Pisces) or gentler placements that want to be coddled (Pisces, Leo, Cancer). The energy just clashes. This is because the Aries is the youngest soul in nature. They’re here for a good time! The child can often feel like the parent or the more mature party. On the other hand, the child can feel like an after thought or accessory! Aries may be be concerned with their own stuff and may only check on “the image” of the child, but not the emotional well being. The child can become an extension of their reputation. Can also be domineering & overly bossy, making the child retreat inwards. The child can see their parent as a celebrity or dictator almost until they reach a certain age and see the deeper issues… Fire signs are worried about shining!
🎡 Venus in Leo are often stunning with feline eyes and have so much stage presence. They take good care of themselves and great pride in their hair, usually. If there is Virgo on the chart to add perfection and attention to aesthetics… this could be a superstar presence! The type of people who may be chill from day to day, but when they dress… they DRESS!
🎡 Moon in the 3rd house wants to talk it out!! They are going to discuss, baby. These are the types who may spill the beans out of emotion, say one thing but feel another.. similar to Moon-Mercury aspect energy. But, the relationship with the mother can be good with open communication.
🎡 Scorpio in Big 3 women give me Maxine Shaw vibes (from Living Single, hit 90’s show) every single time. Like, they were warriors in their past life. So bold and powerful with an unshakable inner strength. A lesser talked about quality that I have noticed is such powerful dreams as well! There can be astral projection, lucid dreaming, that manifest as challenges of literally facing your fears in your dreams! Spiritual warrior and BDE💁🏾♀️
🎡 Sagittarius in big 3 women are similar to me. If you really like someone, the issue will be pushed. If you really dislike someone, the issue will be pushed! I love that energy! & I am biased as a Sag rising. This reminds me of the boisterous Auntie with jokes, wisdom, and powerful energy that fills a room. With Jupiter as their ruler, they can be the masculine energy in their relationships, naturally. They move with freedom in mind when young.
🎡 Leo placements have the super power of bringing warmth to whatever space they inhabit. Suns are shining everywhere they go! Mercury brings grandeur to their conversations and intellectual pursuits. Venus is the light of their lovers life and nothing less! Jupiter is like the Sun double with this energy lol. Giant presence! Depending on the placement, they may or may not notice impact of their presence. However, it's so cold when that sunshine is gone. Everyone can tell when these natives are feeling cloudy because their light is usually felt on the skin of those around them. Such beautiful golden energy!
hiss watch🧿 𓆙
a few placements that can attract sssnakes
𓆙 Neptune in 11th House Be aware of the amount of love you give before you accept someone into your space. Your energy is magnetic, whimsical, and healing! You believe in humanity. This makes you an amazing friend but you can constantly want to see the “good” in people. At its worst, you could be the head cheerleader for your biggest enemy! Don’t be the wind beneath any wings that are uncomfortable when it’s your turn to fly! NO excuses.
𓆙 Pluto in 11th House Transformation, obsession, jealousy, and friendship walk into a bar… No one’s having a good time! Back-stabbing. Envious lies. Stealing your belongings. (Neptune in big 6 can make this even more painful because you may not even notice the disrespect!!) Be aware. 🧿 Not only of others but of yourself. Power struggles. Any negative thoughts or actions must be checked because you will get that energy right back!! That is the only way to reverse this curse. Energy is fluid.
𓆙 Venus- Neptune Harsh aspects can have people trying to debunk their beauty or hurt their value (Venus). “Is that your real hair?” “Are those your natural lashes?” 🙄 The people are watching! At a point in life, you may be completely lost on what you deserve, what love is, and your own self value. Others see it, but you can have an illusory gaze in the mirror.
𓆙 Honorable mention: Sun-Neptune, Neptune in 1st, 3rd, 7th house, Pluto in 7th house, 2nd house, 12th house, Pluto aspect to personal planets. Jupiter in relationship or social houses (2, 3, 7, 10) because people can see your lucky moments!
Thank you for reading!
Check out my page for more in-depth astro posts!
@thesirenisles | masterlist | support
856 notes
·
View notes
I HATE YOU .𖥔 ݁ ˖
in which logan leaves for a mission unexpectedly for almost a year and still expects to be welcomed home upon return
warnings: angst, no happy ending (oops!), a little violence, mutant!reader, that’s it fr
reader has same powers as logan bc they were both experiments at the same time
i also switched up the timeline slightly so pretend logan isn’t a grumpy old man and is more so how he was in x-men (2000)
i also saw some other story that was kinda like this one but i couldn’t remember who’s it was so if anyb knows drop it so i can credit
part 2
“why are we here again?” wade questioned, stuffing a handful of cheetos he stole from a vending machine a while back.
logan only glared at him, “because. i left her for 9 months, the least i can do is come home and show her that im alive.”
wade shrugs, “who even is this ‘she?’ is she hot?”
in seconds, wade finds himself pinned against the wall of the hallway, logan’s claws only centimeters from his neck. “she’s my girl, you don’t get to talk about her being hot,” logan growls, retracting his claws and releasing wade.
“well damn wolvie! don’t get your panties in a bunch, im not stealing your girl! unless the charm is just too much for her then-“
“do you ever stop fucking talking outta your ass?”
wade only sighed, halting to a stop as logan did the same. “137,” logan muttered, looking up at the 137 sitting next to your door.
as logan rose his hand to knock, the door was swung open. logan’s eyes widened. he thought he’d gotten himself back into the right headspace to see you again, clearly he’d been mistaken.
the way your low-set brows rose up at the corners in anger, your long lashes drawing his eyes straight to your deep brown ones. your plush lips curled in slightly and your hair flowed down your back smoother than water.
wade whistled, “hey hot stuff-“ before he was cut of with a punch to the nose, dragging him down to the floor.
logan still had yet to say anything, admiring all the parts of you he’d missed.
however he was cut off with a groan, looking down at your claws that had made their way through his abdomen and back out, retracing back into your forearms.
“what the hell are you doing back here? and who’s the red sex-toy lookin’ thing that i j punched?”
as much as logan wanted to laugh at your dig at wade, he knew how to read the room. and frankly, he was still to stunned. “y/n? baby?”
“don’t call me that,” logan’s eyes widened, “you don’t get to call me that after disappearing for 9 months without notice, lo!”
logan couldn’t help but admire your use of his nickname you created even though you’re pissed at him.
“listen. i know, okay? i know and im sorry but if you let me in,” logan stepped closer, “i can expl- ah fuck!”
you’d stabbed him again in the same spot, pushing his body against the hall with your claws. “no you listen to me, logan. and you listen to me good. i’m not letting you come into my- our house after going awol for fucking forever and coming back with some random gay in a red suit,” you pulled your claws out of him but didn’t put them away this time.
your face softens, eyes moving rapidly between logan’s. he knew you better than anyone, he could see the way your eyes shifted from angry to vulnerable and the way your eyebrows lifted; you were a mini him, despite you being the same age.
“i thought you died, lo. i spent the past months thinking the only person i had and loved was fucking dead,” your eyes welled up as you backed away from logan, putting your claws away alas.
“i’m sorry, doll. im so sorry you have no idea,” logan’s calloused hands grazed your forearms, thumbs tracing the spot where your claws rested.
you sighed, holding back the urge to give in and hold onto him as long as you could.
“but you dont understand-“ you looked away, only for logan to lift a hand and cup your face in it, forcing your glossy eyes to meet his.
“you’re right, james! i don’t understand! so jesus fucking christ enlighten me.”
logan was taken back at your use of his real name, lip parting slightly. his heart ached more and more every time he watched your bottom lip quiver. he knew you were trying to keep up your strong facade, but were beginning to fail.
“i had a mission to go on. i had to save the world, baby!” your brows curled back into anger, and logan knew you thought he was bullshitting. “cmon, angel, stay with me. the asshat over there in the red, he dragged me into this. so if you’re gonna kill anyone for this, have it be him. i just- i need you to let me in.”
you shook your head. “lo- just-“ you stuttered, scavenging for words. “but why didn’t you say anything? you couldn’t have called? sent a letter? hell, baby i would’ve been happy with a fucking pigeon!”
“i didn’t have access to that shit.”
“for 9 months?”
he took a deep sigh, “yes, for nine months.” his tone grew louder. “because if i hadn’t left you for those 9 months there would be no more you for me to come back home to!”
“get out of my damn building, logan.”
“what?”
“leave! i want you and that goddamn red thing to get as far away from me as you fucking can and stay there.”
“y/n-“
“bye logan!”
you slammed the door in his face, leaving him standing there in utter disbelief.
logan’s claws retracted, “FUCK!” he screamed through the hall, leaving a giant claw park across your door.
he looked down at wade, who was watching from a safe distance on the floor. he put his claws away, grabbing wade by the fabric of his suit and dragging him onto his feet.
“get up, you heard the girl; let’s get the fuck away from her.”
logan was breathing heavy, more than ever before. it was like his heart couldn’t catch up to everything he was feeling in the moment. the last thing he wanted to be doing right now was walking out of your apartment building and leaving you, but he was weighed down by so much anger and hurt that he wasn’t exactly in control of himself at the moment.
“well,” wade started, “you handled that well.”
and before he knew it, wade was stabbed into a wall. “ow?”
logan growled, “i’m coming back for her.”
wade only let out a long laugh, stopping logan in his tracks.
“what the fuck are you laughing at? you should’ve heard the joke she made about you! she said you look like a sex toy-“
“i’m not laughing at that, you ape. i’m laughing at the fact that you’re coming back to her! look how it turned out the last time you ‘came back.’ “
“you don’t know what you’re talking about, kid. i’m coming back, whether she likes it or not. i’m not losing the love of my life after all i did to make sure i wouldn’t lose her.”
“i-“ “and next time im here, you won’t be.”
so! should i make a part 2 WITH a happy ending when he does come back??? 🫣🫣
♯ taglist! ∿
@spazwayy @oatmilkriver @sseleniaa @mei-simp @wittyjasontodd @wolverinesangel @realsimpbitchshit @pickuptruck01 @keigohawks @thereallchristine @velvrei
692 notes
·
View notes
"WHAT DO YOU WANT?"
"TO SEE WHAT YOUR INSIDES LOOK LIKE." | GHOSTFACE!ARMIN ARLERT.
𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 — word count. 4.6k
𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 — cw. fem!reader, smut, modern au, mentions of murder / death / blood, fingering, armin’s a creep, symbolism, noncon/dubcon, insanity, manipulation, monomania, creampie, knives, stalking. mdni <3.
𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 — synopsis. armin’s worked hard to build up his perfect life, and he certainly wasn’t expecting for someone to rip that from under him. he’s obsessed — with a life that isn’t his.
𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 — dolled up! we are sooo back n in full swing for kinktober this year !! i’ll drop my masterlist here for all the prettie dolls to check out … please show this some love by reblogging / sharing, it’ll mean the absolute world 2 me !! kk, luv ya, bye ♡
Armin Arlert. Age 23. Graduated from Shiganshina University.
Armin Arlert, starting his new life under a freshly installed roof that rivaled his dorm of the past four years and provided him with much needed privacy. Armin Arlert, with a degree in humanitarian affairs accompanied with a promising future ahead, it’s the life he deserved after the turbulent destruction that was his tragic past. He could start over now in high hopes of making a name for himself in this unfamiliar city. Nothing could stop him, or the unperturbed spout of elation percolating within.
Aside from optimism, though, he remained undoubtedly sure that the life he had curated for himself was one that no other could outclass. He was smart — spent his days in libraries, in his study room, reading about anything that satiated his appetite for enlightenment, and be that as it may, he wasn’t looking for a lover. His solace brought him far better pleasure than any person could possibly imagine.
He’d work, research, and then work some more, day in and day out. And the day of your meeting was no different.
He had decided to utilize the time he carved out of his restless schedule for a much needed re-read of his favorite book. Moments like these were significant to Armin; the pungent aroma of freshly brewed tea in his mug, luminescence dim in the apartment, and a faint timbre of violins that spilled from his speaker.
Moments like these were when he couldn’t keep track of how many hours had passed him by as he flipped page by page into whatever universe his books had drawn him into.
Rested against the kitchen counter with his novel in one hand and retrieving a sip from his beverage in the other, his eyes scanned the piece of literature. Every once and awhile, he’d shift his weight from his left hip to the right, or opt to sit on the cozy loveseat in his study. All without withdrawing his attention from his book.
Glasses low on the bridge of his nose, he gently pushed them up — Then it came. The sonority of his doorbell, jostling him out of his serene thoughts and the inquisitiveness that flowed through his veins soon after, urged his body to tread to the front door in search of the cause.
As his footfall led him closer to the handle of the door, he could make out a silhouette, seemingly of a woman. All inquisitions of who could be at his doorstep were fulfilled once he opened it and you stood, with a bright smile on your face.
Armin’s angelic features hidden underneath a veil of golden blond tresses accentuated his soft, azure-hued eyes. His face was one of few that aided you in comfort just upon first glance, which chased away the unease of the possibility that he could’ve been ill-tempered.
“Hi, I’m Y/N! I moved in next door,” You pointed your thumb in the direction beside you as if to signal which side of the building you’d be occupying. “I just thought I'd introduce myself,”
He matched your syrupy sweet beam with one of his own, the corners of his eyes turning upward in tandem as if they were smiling too. He held the door open slightly wider to catch a better glimpse of you. From your attire, he could discern that you weren’t much of a modest girl, but it’d be wrong of him to idly make assumptions. Especially when his choice of dress during the lax hours of the day were a white button-up, cashmere cardigan thrown atop, with a pair of tan slacks.
“Y/N?” He repeated, in a manner to affirm that he had heard correctly. “I’m Armin. It’s nice to meet you,”
He would’ve held his hand out for yours had it not been engaged by his book. You weren’t trying to pry, yet the cover of the story was lucid in your mind once you took notice. “Berenice? The Edgar Allan Poe novel?”
His eyes trailed to where your manicured nail was pointed. The rosy flush of his cheeks deepened while he rubbed away the discomfiture stirring at the back of his neck. Once again, he had mindlessly brought his book with him wherever he strode.
“Y-Yeah, It’s my favorite. Have you read it?”
“A few times,” You hummed, meeting his sheepish gaze. “It’s so jarring, right?”
Armin skimmed over your face before allowing himself to speak. “But there’s beauty in the madness,” His words trolled over in a more weighty tone than he had intended, an apologetic smile on his face once he caught wind.
“Or at least that’s how i interpret it,”
His outward timidity roused an endearing chuckle from you. “I truly don’t mean to bother you, though. If you need anything I'm on your right!” You retort with a vague inclination of haste.
Truth be told, Armin’s interest in you piqued with the mention of the Poe story. “Oh, you’re not a bother-”
His vocables fell short against your own when you waved him goodbye, and he mirrored your actions with cordiality in his eyes.
Maybe she’s just busy.
—
Ever since Armin’s first encounter with you, he had found himself taking a rather atypical interest in the relations of you. The first bout of instances being regular events of curiosity where he’d watch as the moving company aided you in getting your belongings settled; hauling in furniture and appliances, all while Armin remained under the guise of checking his mailbox. Over a short span of time, though, he found himself increasingly knowledgeable in the subject that was you.
You showered at 8:00pm. You ate dinner at 7:00pm. The alarm settled on your desk, a few feet beyond your bed would go off at 6:00am sharp, and he’d be up at that same dawning hour to anticipate your departure to work.
He knew these things. Of course, he did.
He memorized all of your schedules to calculate what you’d be doing throughout the day, and where.
His own work was slow for him during those days, and books didn’t seem to capture that spark of exhilaration like you did. For once, he felt enthralled by each day granting him an opportunity to analyze you further.
On another day, he’d built up enough confidence to observe you as you came home from work, once more, under the false assumption that he’d been checking his mail.
“Good afternoon.”
Armin’s voice registered within your being quickly, startling you out of your fast-paced strut to your door. “Oh, good afternoon!” Your footfall faltered until you reached a close. “Armin, was it?”
Over Armin’s time of stalking- no, studying you, he’d come to realize just how ethereal you were. It was as if the deities above handmade every feature on your face, curve of your body, lilt in your voice with the intention of making you one of their own — an angel.
He found you charming.
With a nod of his head, he braced himself to inch toward you. Not proximal enough to cause you discomfort, he wouldn’t want that, yet enough to signal his unwavering immersion. “Did you just come from work?”
It was otiose of him to ask the question seeing as he undeniably knew the answer. Judging from your business attire and pencil skirt just a little too short for any other establishment’s dress standards, he had assumed you worked a kushy job at an office firm. You evidently earned a heap of money, with him recalling the numerous occasions you’d come home with luxury shopping bags hanging off your arms, tied in with the fact that the suites he inhabited weren't exactly affordable for the average person.
You responded hospitably to his question, that same lovely smile poured over your features and seeping into his personage. “Mhm, and what about you? Your work?”
He was surprised at your need to pull the conversation along further, it was as if you were succoring to curate his plans, as if you could read his mind and pick out from a haystack that you were his only interest, you were his source of bliss. A serendipitous moment, indeed. He straightened himself up, clearing his throat. “Me? Oh, well I just help out at charities and organizations from time to time,”
He’d be a fool to deny the set of wide eyes that were fixated upon his figure.
“For real? You must be a really good person then.” You responded with your hands clasped together and held against your chest, pupils of your eyes glittered in a sense of unshakable admiration.
As the conversation went on, you had begun to synonimize your neighbor with the fresh, and comforting feeling of congeniality. It helped that he was easy to converse with, seeming as he’d always been listening while keeping eye contact and rewiring his queries in a way that deemed you the main focus, and he, a vessel for your words to absorb within.
For Armin, he enjoyed getting to know you. You were perfect, in all the best ways.
And soon enough, through an exhausting series of prying inquiries, he’d piece together that your perfection wasn’t hulled along by determination or strong will, but by God’s good grace. He’d come to register that you didn’t have to struggle like he did to reach the triumphant point in life for which he stood. You were born that way, born with a silver spoon in your mouth and just the right kiss-ass people in your life to keep you that way. A spoiled fucking brat.
What had been the rationale behind his suffering? The years in which he’d been bullied repeatedly in public schools, had acquaintances that had only cared about him for their personal gain, and parents so utterly vapid that they’d give up their only child if it meant they could continue working towards an unattainable goal?
Fueled by a sense of jealousy, he waned your nepotism a hindrance. You were merely a telescope that he wanted so badly to see into.
For Armin was obsessed with a life that wasn’t his.
Meticulously, he had spent his time after that hidden away within his flat. Armin didn’t care to know anything more about you, he didn’t care to see your face, and he surely didn’t care for you.
When he stumbled across an unkempt, unpacked box in his room with the label of “Uni 2019,” written on the side in thick, inky letters, his concern led him to relive those memories upon removing the cardboard lid.
In it, there were polaroid photos, compact trophies he’d won from participating in school events, courtesy of his STEM minor, and a dark piece of fabric that caught his eye more than anything.
He recalled his first year of college where his two closest friends, Eren and Mikasa, dragged him out of their stuffy shared dorm and onto one of the first parties held by the school’s fraternity house during the fall semester.
“Armin, you look ridiculous,”
Mikasa said as she stomped away in her leather boots, leading the way for the two men accompanying her to follow her off-campus.
She was dressed in homage to Misa Amane from her favorite anime, although the style of dress aided no significance since it was hauntingly similar to her everyday wardrobe.
Eren was intended to show up as “Light” but he insisted on wearing something he deemed appealing, his plan was to get initiated by the end of the night, anyhow. He wore a deep black cloak, dark ripped jeans and had his hair tied aimlessly into his warped perception of a bun, with the mask of a ghost facing sideways on his head to allow for him to see.
Ghostface. Scream (1996).
Armin allowed himself to be pulled away by the Ackerman, his rebuttal falling on deaf ears. “You didn’t give me enough time, Mika. This is all I could come up with.” Armin’s poor excuse for a costume was tissue paper wrapped around his frame in stereotypical mummy fashion, a classic of all classics.
Though, that night had concluded like any other gathering involving college-aged students, the trio having woken up to hangovers and bad decisions.
Armin stared at the contents of the box a while longer before taking the cloak out and trying it on for size. Obviously, it was meant for a taller person, but regardless, the wheels in his head gradually spun.
He took it off after careful observation when the sensation of juvenility filled his veins. He wasn’t fond of the costume rousing the impression that he was an illegitimate killer — He knew more than he let on, and his passion for the grotesqueries scribed in his books further proved that.
Concurrently, you had been pondering the reason for Armin’s disappearance. After your last conversation with him, he’d stopped formulating ways to talk to you and seemed to never leave his suite, and your heart yearned for his presence once the feeling truly settled in.
You had been swayed by his charm.
His dulcet tone of voice, the intriguing quirks that seemed to hang off of him like leaves to a tree; You missed the way he cared for you, through mundane matters and the like.
Night had fallen, the warm, ochre hues of the day meshing in perfect balance with deep purple tones that signified time’s passing. You were settling into bed, just about ready to fall into slumber when you heard light tapping at your door.
Only for a second did the thought of who could possibly be up this late float through your mind.
Your soles kissed the floor when you made your way to the front door. And once you finally opened it, the sight of your worst fear was drawn to life — The deviant sight of the unknown, with what seemed to look like a kitchen knife in its right hand.
Quickly, without time to react, you attempted to slam the door shut with the force of your shoulder but the action proved futile when the aggressor’s strength pushed back against the wood, sending you stumbling backwards and vulnerable to any attack.
Heavy footsteps creeped eerily towards you out of something from a horror film. Your worst mistake was turning your back, scrambling for a way to retrieve your phone, or even a weapon.
“Help! He-”
The stranger was more agile than you had assumed, easily capturing you with one arm around your waist and its hand cupped against your mouth. You couldn’t shake the terror growing within you as hot tears seemed to spill down your cheeks and your heartbeat so intense, you were sure that it’d had been noticeable.
Your body soft in the assaulter’s touch, they embraced your body taut. The sensation was suffocating, your eyes squeezed shut to further distance yourself from the situation at hand, even if it was only a mental trick.
You resided in a relatively safe area, so why were you in this situation? What cruel joke were you the target of?
The grip on your body loosened ever so slightly, yet you were still fixed in place by the attacker’s opposite hand. While your body was immobilized, you felt the lingering of metal lightly drag against your abdomen to find itself settled just underneath the band of your lace pajamas.
Just moments prior, you had completed your elaborate nightly routine consisting of a glass of wine, face mask, and a warm bath. You also found it fitting to change into one of your newer pajama sets — Thin, baby pink, lace bralette with matching shorts that called for forgoing the need for panties.
All you wanted was to wake up from this nightmare.
“It’d be so beautiful if you died right here in my arms,” Your assailant spoke.
Through your ears, his voice was familiar. A tone so soft, you refused to believe the possibility of who it’s owner could be.
His hand over your mouth was hesitant to situate itself elsewhere in wariness of how you’d react. He was aware of the power behind a blood-curdling scream. The neighbors in this area were nosy. He would know.
He let out a sigh. “But you look really pretty tonight. I wouldn’t want to get blood on you,” His knife trailed further into your shorts, the edge cutting out a hole in the fabric at the seat of the garment.
“Did you do all this for me?”
You winced when the sonority of cloth ripping resonated through your ears. The blade felt dangerously close, running along your body as if to taunt you. That had to be the case; You were in the perfect position to be harmed, so why hadn’t your attacker done so? With your body stricken from fear, his job was easy. Was it not?
The hand over your mouth moved to caress your face and you gasped heavily for the air you were denied.
“W-What do you want?” Your voice echoed shakily throughout the room, barely audible enough for the two of you to hear. His knife inched upward to your sternum, and slowly dragged itself back down to your abdomen as he spoke.
“To see what your insides look like.”
For a split second, his hold on you seemed to diminish, granting you the perfect opportunity to run. Yet, your legs felt frail as if there were weights tied to your ankles. The assailant quickly repositioned himself in front of you, his head tilting slightly while he continued his up and down ministrations with the edge of the blade gingerly pressed against your flesh. Not forceful enough to draw blood.
“But maybe now, I want to feel your insides,” His steps crept closer, and instinctively you tried to create as much distance as possible by stepping back. It proved useless when your back hit the cold surface of the door, his face mere centimeters from yours.
Your breath hitched as you found comfort in the presence of the door, leaning against it as if it’d keep you from harm’s reach. You fidgeted, fumbling to grasp at the handle that’d grant you escape. The masked man took notice, hovering over your frame to keep you from trying anything.
“Please- -” Your plea fell in the form of a choked up whimper, just the sound he wanted to hear.
More uncomfortable ripping was sounded when his blade etched a perfect cut in your shorts, leaving your bare cunt out on display for his eyes to see. “Don’t be shy, pretty. I’m sure lots of guys have seen you like this. Am I right?”
Crudeness started to sink in as your face morphed into a contradictory pout. He took your expression for a no and chuckled genuinely, albeit louder than his previous tone. “No? Does this make me the first?” His eyes scanned your lower half once more, then flit back to meet your fear-blown orbs.
“I’d really love to be your first,”
Having grown confident enough to be sure that you wouldn’t try to break free, he dropped the knife to the side, metal clamorously clinking against hardwood flooring while he used his free hand to lift your right leg over the juncture of his elbow. He carefully slotted his middle and ring fingers into your hole, shallowly pumping. Your legs threatened to close with what you couldn’t make of embarrassment or denial.
Your mind felt cloudy once your body gave up its immobility and allowed pleasure to course through your veins, heat rushing to your core with every pump of his fingers. He took notice of the way your expression hastily contorted into one of pure pleasure, eyebrows knit together and your mouth slightly agape, eliciting quiet moans to tumble past.
It was a whorish sight, indeed. A circumstance you couldn’t control with your death at the forefront, yet it was terrifyingly easy to succumb to the euphoric sensation building up within you. The pad of his thumb found its way to your aching clit, and from just the light circling motions in tandem with his fingers, you felt yourself floating to the cusp of release.
“F-Fuck- -“ you rasped. Your hand reached out for his wrist to push him away but the attempt was futile and in turn, he sped up his ministrations.
“Didn’t know you had such a dirty mouth. You’re making me lose interest.” He coyly teased.
He was thankful you couldn’t see how flushed his face appeared under the mask. The sight of you spread open for him was too much to bear, he could cum in that moment without ever feeling your gummy walls wrapped around his painstakingly hard cock.
Just before you were about to hit your orgasm, he pulled his fingers away. An agitated groan rumbled from your throat, eyes finally opening to the sight of the man before you, removing his mask and unveiling his true identity.
Something within you didn’t want to admit what you had seen.
From the golden strands of hair that shimmered against the moonlight to his cyan-hued orbs tinted dark with madness. It was Armin, but it wasn’t Armin.
“M-Min.. You —“ The words failed to leave your mouth in a coherent string of sentences. It couldn’t have been your neighbor, not Armin. He was far too delicate, too feeble to carry out a task like this.
He kept unwavering eye contact with you, your pupils shaking from shock. “Hm? Couldn’t see a thing with this mask on,” His response was that of nonchalance, his hand coming to caress your tear-stained cheeks.
“You’re much prettier behind the mesh.”
He pulled down the zipper of his slacks along with the garment itself and his briefs, just enough so that his cock was freed. You didn’t want to look, but you did. You notice how bulbous the head was, glowing a bright pink while the rest of it was pretty girthy as well. It bobbed under its weight, the strings of precum leaking onto your inner thighs as he lined it up with your entrance.
“Why would y—“
Just before you could get the vocables out, he pushed his entire length inside of you, head tilted back and adam’s apple bouncing with each groan he let out. You felt as though you were being split open by how fat his cock was, how it glided effortlessly in and out of your heat.
His pace was tauntingly slow as if he’d shoot his load prematurely. Once he gradually thrusted more vigorously though, you found it hard to keep whimpers at bay. Each push in felt deeper than the last, the wind within your system struggling to keep you afloat. You reached for something to hold onto, scrambling for Armin’s shoulders in the end. Your nails dug deep at the lean muscles of his back, creating raw, catlike scratches on the flesh.
The pain was enough to make him smile. Or maybe it wasn’t the pain, but the sight of you so desperate for him — So desperate for your killer.
How pathetic.
He leaned himself upward to meet your gaze again, that of something from a horror movie, his gaze was darker than before, strung together by a serious expression. “Kiss me.”
You almost didn’t hear him as your impending orgasm was your only focus. When you took too long to respond, he glanced back at the knife settled just underneath his foot, in a manner to remind you of the real dangers he was capable of.
With the slightest inclination of hesitancy, your lips met his. Contrary to his actions, his kisses were soft, sloppy, and hungry, as if he were craving you. He hooked his arms beneath your knees to hoist you up and against him.
Deeper. You whimpered into his kisses wondering how his cock fucked into you deeper. He slammed your body down onto his length, using your body like it was a toy. You pulled away from the kiss, heaving for air as your head fell upon his shoulder. “Gonna cum, ‘m so close!” Your words slurred, and before you knew it, your essence came in waves, each aftershock more jolting than the last.
He continued pounding into you, shifting his position to hold you up against the wall. Your pleasure reverberated in the form of an inaudible cry while you allowed for the bullying of his cock in your cunt. It was evident to you that he was close from the way his features were etched in pure ecstasy.
Armin looked pretty like that — Wisps of tawny bangs messily splayed across his forehead from perspiration and a light tinge of scarlet dusted across his nose and cheeks, up to the tips of his ears. His soft, rosy lips were slickened with the mixture of your wet kiss and his.
“Oh, God-”
The guttural groan he let out had your walls clamping down taut around him. “Cum for me again—Shit! Say my name,”
The stamina he retained came as unexpected to you, your overstimulated heat trying to find pleasure in the way it’s being battered up. He spoke again, this time with a docile lilt in his tone.
“Tell me you’re mine, Y/N. I wanna be yours.”
You didn’t want to. You were beyond opposed to feeding into his hedonistic delusions, especially in the impuissant state that you were in. Yet, you couldn’t stop the affirmations from flowing once another orgasmic high coiled up in your core.
“Armin! ‘M yours! All yours,”
Just as soon as your words circulated through his mind, he felt his balls tighten, his thrusts faltering in potency as he reached closer to his high.
In his mind, it was profoundly amorous that you both had hit euphoria simultaneously, warm ropes of his sticky seed painting your walls while he shallowly jettisoned every last drop. Your womb was the goal, and he had scored.
He was tentative to pull out, wanting to relish in the warmth of your core for as long as he possibly could but he knew the idea wouldn’t be feasible. “You’re so good. I mean, you listen so well,”
He delicately placed you back on your feet, your body lax in his hold. “Thank you!” He beamed, tilting your head upwards to meet his gaze.
“Thank you for what?” You responded, your eyes searching for anything else to focus on as you gained enough strength to separate yourself from him, even if it was just a few inches.
“You helped me,”
You couldn’t make sense of the nonsense coming out of his mouth nor his need to be a hair's breadth away from you at all times.
“You helped me realize I never wanted to hurt you,” His hands found their place at your waist, softly running along the curve. “I just wanted to be inside you.”
“No, you wanted to kill me.” You spoke in a more conflicted tone, wondering if the gears in his head were turning at all. He chuckled, creating a few inches of distance between the two of you.
“I mean, I did at first. I was jealous, Y/N,” His voice sounded like that of a beg. “You have such a perfect life and I want it — I want to be in it.”
You couldn’t bear to listen to anymore of his twisted thoughts, feeling the heavy coat of uncomfortability weighing your shoulders down. “Armin, you’re crazy.”
“I love you, Y/N. Let me into your life, please?”
He pulled you into a tight embrace, his hands furthering south until they halted at the small of your back.
“I won’t hurt you,”
“I love you.”
𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 — @valentinevampyr @oneofthesevensins @iamtrashgod @iconicbabii @inusdoll @kloesklarity @bakuhoe-3 @antistellxr
2K notes
·
View notes