#dont take my privilege for granted

[sleepkey]

fucked how financial stability would fix me

[daydadahlias]

your writing is my safe space

and if i cried abt this what then huh?? what then ! who is to blame !

[r0-boat]

Take it

Oc: yan! Dragon prince Silas x gn!reader.

Summary: he loses it in a jealous rage. A hand around your throat he reminds you of who you belong to.

Cw: noncon/dubcon, yandere, mentions of free use, choking, degrading, lots of name-calling, mating press, mentions of pet play, rough sex.

Minors dont interact with 18+ content.

Those violet eyes glow with a dangerous light as he looks down on you. The prince carelessly sheds his armor, laying it dropped on the floor. "Strip," He commands coldly, his chest rising and falling as he looks at you as if he is ready to devour you at any moment. You only hesitate for a second before he loses his patience.

"I said Strip, Slut, or do you wish those clothes would be ripped off your body? I assure you, If I get my hands on them, you won't be wearing clothes for the next week." He growled. You could already see his hands and arms darkening as black scales began to replace his skin, his nails sharpening into claws.

Your heart quickens, and your chest and your hands shake as you begin to disrobe in front of him. His gaze softens for only a moment, no matter how much he's seen you naked, he'll never get over the sight of your gorgeous body. He would love to kiss and caress every each of your skin and worship you like he always does, but today you don't get that privilege.

" So perfect and It's all for me, right?"

You immediately respond, getting goosebumps when his claws graze over your thighs. " Yes all for you."

That soft look in his eyes disappears, replaced with anger. Gritting his teeth, he pounces on you. A clawed hand goes around your throat, slamming you down into the bed, his leg pressed right up against your crotch as he snarls, "Lies!"

You struggle to breathe as he squeezes down on your neck, not enough to hurt you but pretty damn close. Your nails clawing against his arm did nothing against those obsidian scales.

"If you're truly mine, then you won't look at another man. If you are truly mine, I won't catch you talking to other royalty when I grant you the privilege to attend parties as my partner."

A twisted smirk grows on his face. Giving you a full view of his fangs.

"Do I have to leash and collar you? Treat you as nothing more than a pet; your only job is to warm my bed and cock. I want to love you, I want to cherish you, I want to worship you, but I'm not opposed to treating you like a common whore."

When he finally lets go of your neck, you start coughing immediately, taking in as much air as you can. Silas presses his hand against your crotch you instinctively grind against his palm.

Even now he still craves gentle your touch. His cock is swollen and dripping, throbbing with need swelling larger with each twitch as he continues to change to a more hybrid shape. You could see the horns beginning to sprout from his head. Do you know what you do to him? Only you make him lose control like this.

"I'm going..." his breath shakes as he continues his growls becoming more inhuman.

" I'm going to mate with you. And you are going to take it. I'll make you understand that you are mine."

You were but a rag doll in his hands as he moved you to suit his putting a leg over his shoulder, his cock grinds against your entrance. Fighting back would only worsen your fate. With his brute strength alone, Silas could easily break your bones with one hand. When he grabbed your wrists with one hand, pinning them above your head, you were entirely at his mercy. Stroking his drooling cock. He positions it just right above your entrance, the tip just barely kissing your tight hole.

This time he was gentle, slowly pushing it inside you feeling every ridge against your walls. In this form, he was so much bigger but had trained you to take every inch. However, it was still a tight squeeze. He usually gave you a moment to get used to his size. But unfortunately, you won't get that luxury; as soon as he's deep inside you, he immediately begins to move. With nothing to grab onto, you squirmed and writhed underneath him, his hips slamming into yours.

With his only hand free, he plays with your chest pinching, twisting, and pressing your nipple before doing the same to your other. Making you mewl as he hits that sweet spot inside, driving you over that edge and coming on his cock. Silas couldn't hold back his moans of pleasure, feeling your gummy walls milk his cock. His eyebrows, his mouth open, almost drooling. His eyes drink every delicious reaction you make. He wants more, to give you more pleasure, make you take more of him. He lifts your other leg putting it over his shoulder. He leans forward, practically folding you, drilling his cock deep inside you. Forcing your tight hole to take more of him.

"H-haha! I-I am the only one who can make you feel like this! If you can't remember my love, then remember how good I make you feel, how hard you cum around me. How drooly and stupid you get when I'm balls deep inside you." Silas babbled, finally leaving your nipples alone to brush your hair between his fingers, your drool smearing against his palm when you rested your head against his hand. Your legs shake as he brutally pounds you through your orgasm.

He could feel himself getting close. He chases his orgasm, his thrusts becoming wild and erratic before slamming one final time cumming deep inside of you.

Despite wanting to keep going, to use you till you can't move. He still had too much to do, but that didn't mean he couldn't punish you.

Finally, letting go of your wrists and taking his cock out of you. Seeing his cum running out of your used hole, Silas gets off of your shuddering body typically; the prince with scoops you up into his arms, giving you soft kisses while he draws you a bath or stays in your arms to cuddle with you. Still, this time you were just met with his cold gaze as he begins Gathering his clothes. While you lay there idly in the now ruined silk sheets.

"As punishment, I'm stripping you of your freedoms. You are prohibited from leaving this room unless I tell you so; at 1:00, I'll be in my study. When I walk in that room, I expect you to be there on your knees and your mouth open."

[milknhonies]

The Negatives of Shooting People

Chapter 5 || MasterList || Chapter 7

Chapter Summary: You get the ultimate privilege of meeting Nicholas Tortano who grants you the ability to surprise August Walker

Chapter Warnings: 18+ Dead Dove Do Not Eat, Sexual tension, P in V intercourse, fingering, petnames, dubious consent, hate sex, rough sex, gun violence, threats with a gun, forceful handling, belittling, manipulation The reader vomits and is kissed briefly at some point. Mentions of dacryphilia, sadism.

Pairing: Kingpin!August Walker X F!reader

Word Count: .I dont honestly know but it's definitely more than 6k

Author Notes: the chapter and editing process was very rough I'm very sorry full stop my life has been in a business because I'm trying to find a new place to live and I've started going to the gym and missing out on a lot of sleep. I'm about to pass out which is why I'm posting this now. Again sorry for any mistakes granrma and otherwise

Inspiring Song: "girl with one eye " Florence and the machine. (Yes I know it's a sapphic song- I sing it like every day but let me have this pass to add it in)

08:09am Monday 19th August 2024, Robertson, Brisbane.

'What the hell is she thinking?'

Henry shook his head as he reached the complex exit and walked out onto the street to the waiting car.

He wanted to smirk but the frowning scowl would not drop from his face.

'If I was anyone else, God what I'd do to her-' his hand clenched the passenger side door handle hard and slammed loudly behind him. His eyes shut and his head tossed while the car swayed and rocked.

Jude, his driver and loyal friend smirked, “You must like this one...or is there a pile of meat up in that apartment that I need to fetch? I can call Riggan the pig farmer in the Lockyer Valley, anything left over he can throw in Wivenhoe dam.”

August sighed and chuckled, "She's alive and well. No sweet treat for Coles piggies...but...I need you and Wesley to look into the Pig she has been accompanying."

Jude smiled and leaned over, clicking the button of the glove box compartment. Inside was a yellow envelope. August's eyes fluttered before his face broke out into a grin.

"You are a fine friend Jude," he said as he plucked the envelope and spilled the printed notes out onto his lap, "Do you ever sleep? Jesus mate."

The raven hair man giggled and started the car to a silent hum.

As the driver put a hand behind Augusts car seat and reversed the car out onto the main roads he smugly said, "I take pride in investigating, especially bastards like him."

August's fingers flicked through the pages of graphic intel. With racing eyes he soaked up the words and photos. Lloyd Hansen...an absolute moron. His nose flared at what he was reading. He grit his teeth. Especially when he recognised a name in bold he hadn't thought about in at least half a decade.

"Well, well, well, he's got kittens for sale," August scoffed.

Jude hummed, "And meddles in the dogs pack, it would seem little Nicky is out of the jailhouse."

Both men smirked. But August was by no means pleased.

He was grumbling to himself. You were now sticking your toes into the deep end of the pool without floaties and he was worried he wouldn’t be able to catch you in time for the dunk.

Entering his club, sneaking in with the detective, he didn’t think you were dumb enough to think you’d distract him... He read through your charade the moment his eyes laid down on you from above walking in with that man.

His eyes and ears were turning red.

It was tricky but thankfully he had the means to warning that cop not to touch what belongs to him...however how close could he really get to that bastard without potential outlash. He knew he needed to order another grandeur meeting. While everyone was in town, it might be his only opportunity.

When August forced you to watch the murder of the embezzler, he had every hoping intention that it would persuade you to never talk to the cop again. A normal undercover pig would’ve stopped the show then and there, called back up.

But there was no back up...no...there was only sweet little innocent you and your pathetic phone camera. If Lloyd was after information he would’ve wired you up...Lloyd wasn’t there for him...he was there for some selfish reason...

When you ran off and pulled the alarm a dozen things went through his head. You were going to get yourself killed if you kept running. So he chased you. If the other men of his circle saw August Walker hunting, they would have been inclined to hunt you down too. And if they caught you...they would have done more than rip your head off.

He couldn’t tell you. He wasn’t sure how. You were already distrusting and scared of him there was no way he would be able to explain all the details and with your pure heart, you wouldn’t understand his world and why his side of the fence did such heinous things.

But...he would keep you safe. He wanted to gain your trust while not mistaking his authority...he knew what he had done was traumatizing.

He was no stranger to rape. Especially the european parties...those special events where he would join his friends like Kenny Strong and Arthur Kingsley ran the highlife of elite gentlemen and some lucky women born into those elite families. He wasn’t entirely fond of the practice. He didn’t like to beat women, but he did love to tie them up and humiliate them to tears.

Something about crying made his cock hard- no, something about you crying did...

He made you cry and he tried to bend you to his whims...he had already begun the conditioning where you would call him Daddy to gain his affection and praise. It pleased him significantly. He would shield you from those terrible memories even if it meant torturing you into talking about them. Externalising, confessing, it was all a form of therapy and he knew he had finally cracked the surface of your mind. He wouldn’t break you but he would chop at you and cut the mould. He would heal you. He would rebuild you and give you all the happiness you could ever want.

Sitting back and shoving those papers into the glove box he licked his bottom lip in thought.

When he woke up that morning, he watched you sneak out of the room. He smiled and amused himself. He watched the cameras from his phone. You were in his room...now that was very silly...he watched you choose his shirt and his shorts. He bit his lip to hold back a laugh. You looked so confident but so ...innocent...particular. He watched you grab a knife from the kitchen, he half heartedly believed you were coming back to stab him.

When your hands reached for the glass doors he launched up. He hadn’t warned you about Kal and he knew that dog could rip a man up, probably kill you easily if his fangs cause your wrist or neck.

He wanted to spank you and fuck you hard until you screamed mercy for trying to run away.

Rather he chose a simpler and easier punishment, one you essentially consented to the night before. Watching you suck cock was an interesting spectacle. There was a certainty you’d never done it before or not that many times before.

As you gagged on his cock with those big beautiful eyes of yours, he imagined all the things he’d buy for you...all the things he’d do for you... You might’ve been on your knees but something screamed at him to serve you as a slave.

Jude broke the silence eventually. He smirked, “So, am I right? You like this one?”

August smirked back, “’Like’ isn’t a word I’d be using.” He was fucking obsessed.

09:06am Monday 19th August 2023, Woolloongabba, Brisbane

You didn’t make a call. You couldn't. August broke your phone as you recalled.

You showered and scrubbed your face until you could feel the slight peel of your skin. It stung, but it was better than the sting you felt from the memory of his cum over you...in your mouth. You brushed your teeth for probably fifteen minutes just to erase the muscle memory of his cock brushing the back of your throat.

You changed out of August’s clothes and threw them into the bin. You couldn’t take off the collar and it made you feel suffocated. The kitchen scissors managed to scratch up the leather but the metal ring that encased inside was too strong.

You shook your head and felt nausea rise in your belly again. Without any food, all that came out was bile and acidic spit. You fell to your bedroom floor and started hitting the carpet, awful noises of grief and need bellies from you. You felt strangled. You huffed and spat random threats and insults, pretending he was there to hear them...he...August or your father? It didn’t matter.

You clenched your fist and smacked your head trying to regain your thoughts.

You kicked your dresser and rose from the floor. You found your bus pass and left the apartment, walking out in some jeans and a loose tshirt with a pair of running shoes.

The bus trip wasn’t a far trip to the police station.

You didn’t have the intention to report the kidnapping. No, no...now you were pissed off. You were scorned more than once by men around you. There was only one person you could trust in this world.

“Hi,” said the administration clerk, “How can we try an help today?” You fought the urge to roll your eyes, 'oh bitch if only you knew.'

“I’m after Detective Lloyd Hansen, is he here?”

You needed to confirm if the man was still alive. When you pulled the alarm, things were run or die in that moment. You hoped the man had the wit to run instead of confront the mafia or whatever this criminal group was.

The office was feeling slower today. It was filled with idle chatter and coffee machines grinding beans and a printer scanning documents.

“Do you have an appointment today?” she hummed, tapping at her keyboard.

You blinked and your teeth sneered.

You almost strangled that worker with the telephone cord. No. You didn’t have an appointment.

You just wanted to see he was alive. To tell him you were alive...and to collect your fifteen thousand promised reward for your “services”.

Your hands uncontrollably slapped on the desk cause the admin clerk to roll a little away in their office chair.

“I want to see the detective, now.”

“It’s alright Sandra...I can see her...” Lloyd said behind you. You flipped around. He was coming out of a small cubicle.

He looked...tired...shocked...relieved. it was all over how he looked with his loose tie, bags under his eyes and the clench of his hands on some paperwork.

He slowly stood to you and guided you away from the service desk. He whispered, “The white corolla...I’m about to finish shift.”

09:14am Monday 19th August 2024, Sunnybank, Brisbane.

You remembered his car well. The day he drove you home, you were so scared and confused. That day you’d reported that August may have sexually assaulted you...that day he definitely did...

This time you weren’t waiting in the cold for Lloyd, the sun was hot and beating down.

He came jogging down the front stairs of the station and hastily unlocked the car.

You wordlessly slipped in and buckled up.

When he got in he slammed his door a little too hard. He pressed his face to the top of his wheel and swore softly.

“I thought,” he swallowed nervously and sat up to look you up and down, “I thought he really had killed you. I tried calling thirty fuckin times these last two days. What happened? Were you hiding?”

Two days....god...you had been gone, missing, for that long?! Missing Friday...return Sunday.

You shook your head, “I was the one who pulled the alarm Lloyd...he knew what we were doing...he was going to kill you. When I made a run for it like everyone else in the club, he managed to track me down...he...” you trailed off unsure if you wanted to repeat the actions, the words, the confession.

Licking your lips you said, “August Walker is a dead man walking...and...” your stomach started to growl, “I’m starved, and I’m sorry to be bitchy but you...you at least owe me a meal Lloyd.”

Two days...you had only a few pieces of chicken in two days. No wonder you felt like total crap.

Lloyd didn’t argue. He took you straight away to the closest fast food drive thru. You ordered so much and Lloyd didn’t dispute a single item. He settled for a simple burger, fries and larger soft drink.

Lloyd drove you both to the kangaroo point lookout, it wasn't too far from where you already live. You stared out at the city buildings and Brisbane River with a strained sigh.

You chewed silently on a nugget for a moment before you explained what happened. How you were caught, how you almost got away...

“Jesus,” Lloyd rubbed his eyes and sighed, “I...I think I...I’m sorry I took you for granted Y/N. When I left the building I search everywhere for you. I thought...well- I didn’t know what to think.”

You munched on a handful of fries, you didn’t care if you looked like a pig as you did it. Stuffing your cheeks full of a burger and then a massive gulp of an extra large drink. You swallowed and thrived off the heart burn aching in your chest, reminding you you’ve eaten too quickly.

You burped and then softly moaned, “I need to feel safe.”

“You need to move...Y/N please,” The begging in his tone was loud and clear. There was serious fear in Lloyd.

You wouldn’t submit to August Walker and you refused to run from him. You were now met with the choice...you were either going to destroy his reputation or literally destroy him....your blood pumped loudly. He made you talk about your father....your fucking father...and on top of that, he made you call him daddy.

What mind fucked you was how you were yet again able to walk away...not unscathed but definitely alive.

“No,” you dismissed unwrapping your second burger, “He will find me...I know he will...and even if he kept me alive both times, a third is pushing my lucky, I know you understand that.”

Lloyd shook his head at you and put his hand over your burger, stopping your next starved bite, he hissed “You think staying where you are is safer? You don’t know-“

“Lloyd!” You snapped, you slapped his hand back and shoved your pointer finger into your chest, you sucked down a shakey breath, “...I know...I do know. I need to protect myself when he strikes again...it’s worse now...I have too much collateral... He let me witness that murder in the club.”

The detective raised his brows at you, “You mean...” the blood drained from his face.

“Cameras were in the VIP rooms Lloyd,” you grit your teeth and glared at the view of the city buildings, “I saw a lot more than just a fucking man’s brains being blown out from his skull, hookers, coke... Auctions...he’s got it all in The Lion Lounge.”

The detective rest his fingers on his top lip. He was slowly nodding.

You sucked down a long drag of your straw and gasped, asking in the same breath, “Lloyd I want a gun. I won’t let him rape me again.”

You needed the protection from August or any man he sent to kill you.

Lloyd chewed his bottom lip and shook his head.

“Do you have a gun license?”

“Do I look like I have one?” you snipped. You knew it wasn’t fair on him for your attitude but you didn’t have the time to focus on his hurt feelings in regards to your mental health and physical safety.

“Have you ever even shot one?”

“Nope. But it only takes one shot to kill him close up.” You threw the wrapper out of his car window and rubbed your face.

If he didn’t come near you, he would be safe, and you could just work on collecting evidence for the courts.

The detective sucked his bottom lip and shook his head, “It’s too dangerous.”

“Oh piss off!” You stomped your foot and twisted your body to face him, you grabbed his loose tie and tugged it as you seethed, “Lloyd, you practically thrust me into his arms and you have the gall to say now, me owning a gun is ‘too dangerous’?”

He gently grabbed your wrist and pulled his tie out of your fingers as he shook his head at you. His nose flared and he started to raise his voice at you, spit flying from his mouth as he hit the wheel with the palm of his hand. You expected a detective to hold a little more composure.

“Fine. Fine! But are you really willing to go to prison for life if you do manage to kill him? Think about this logically.”

His eyes were wide and his brows twisted with worry.

You fell quiet. You wanted to say yes. You wanted to stamp your foot again and scream that you’d spend two lifetimes behind bars if it meant his demise...except...was your demise worth the cost of his? Would you drown with him in the end of all of this if you killed him.

You noisily sucked at your straw.

“No...” you whispered, you didn’t want to cry in front of Lloyd but your tears were coming up, beading in the dips of your lids.

“No, that’s right,” Lloyd rubbed your shoulder with his thumb, “He isn’t worth it.”

Your lip pouted, “Why can’t you just...arrest him.”

He sighed and rubbed your back as you started to break down into pathetic frustrated sobs.

“Lawyers, laws and money,” he whispered and fluttered his eyes shut, “He has his ways. The only way we can take him down is if he is caught doing the hefty, big crimes. If I could’ve gotten the proof of the weapon dealers he would’ve been considered accomplice to the crime.”

“S-so if...if you..” you wiped you snotty nose on the back of your arm, “If he was caught on camera...he’d be sent to prison?” You started to laugh mechanically, “What if...what if I let him rape me. A nanny cam on my night stand or something?”

The office shook his head for the dozenth time, “By the law that wouldn’t be considered rape...only a messed up porno, especially if they see you set up the camera.”

Your fingers aggressively clenched another handful of fries, you didn’t eat them, you just threw them back into the bag.

“...I...what do I do Lloyd?” A fear of hopelessness tapped your brain.

He was quiet for a solid minute. He stared at you all over. You knew the bruise on your face was visible. He kept looking at your cheek instead of your eyes. And his gaze fell down to your neck. “It’s a collar Lloyd...he chained me to a bed for two days...”

His lips parted and with a impatient voice he asked, “Do you have a gym membership?”

“No? Why?”

He started his car and made you put your seat belt back on, “Okay, I don’t care, you’re getting one, right now."

Your eyes shrunk, “Why?”

Lloyd gruffly snarled, “Because I’m going to teach you how to fight.”

He would teach you at least some self defence. August might’ve been twice your size but if you could get the chance to get away...Lloyd would make sure you would take it..

05:30pm Monday 19th August 2024, East Brisbane Anytime Fitness Gym, Brisbane.

“Again.”

Your back hit the padded wall, your knees hit the floor as you cupped your middle and tried not to puke up the fast food from earlier.

“We have been at this for three hours!” You groaned, trying to use the foam wall to stand up again.

You were convinced Lloyd liked to beat you around, the red marks and bruises that were rising were the evidence.

“Until you can take me down,” Lloyd nudged you with his hand causing you to almost fall back down, “We aren’t leaving.”

You hissed angrily and stood up tall “Fuck sake.”

You held up your arms like he showed you. He started throwing his blows, you blocked him with your forearms and ducked away from his large swipes. He kicked your ankle and watched you crumble to the ground again.

“Watch your feet.” He scolded, “You are smaller and surprisingly speedy, use that to your advantage!”

You rolled your eyes and bit your lip. Getting to your feet you pushed up and launched your body at Lloyd who was checking out one of the yoga classes in the other room window.

He crashed to the floor. Your knees straddled his hips as you huffed with glee, “Ha! Home time!” your palms rested on his naked sweaty chest.

He chuckled and shook his head. He pushed you up by your hips. He shut his eyes, panting, “Again...then home time.”

You grumpily groaned, “Fine!” your ribs hurt bad and your knees felt swollen.

It was agreed by you both that if you needed to reach out you needed to use a burner phone or a payphone. Any calls or emails were going to be noticed.

When you felt the spray of the hot shower water at home, you cried. It felt good. You touched the collar still around your throat. Training to protect yourself reminded you the pain was worth it.

10:16am Wednesday 21st August 2024, Brisbane CBD

“Mr Luther, I’m so sorry for not calling in sick,” You wrung your hands in front of your boss, “Please forgive me for the unwarned absence.”

“Please!” He laughed heartedly, “I just assumed you were clicking some more photos!” He stood out from his chair and sat on his desk above you, “Did you hear about Walkers club almost burning down?”

Looking down at your lap, you reminded yourself that Mister John Luther was not a man included in the circle of trust. Nor were you convinced he understood the severity of the crimes the criminals he wanted to chase for gossiping stories committed. Your hand touched the ends of the scarf you wore, covering up the hideous black leather around your neck. You tried all morning to cut it off with a pair of scissors but you came to feel the metal circlet inside and gave up. There was a hole in one of the bottom cabinets where you had kicked in a hole...that was okay, you had an extra fifteen thousand pounds in your bank account.

You assumed Lloyd finally sent the money through.

“Did it?” you coyly asked.

“No clue how damaged the place was but the massive party was cancelled. The fire engines went zooming down this street Friday night.”

“What happens now then?” You glanced up at him and chewed the inside of your cheek, “With the smuggling case?”

“Put on hold for now,” he sighed and squeezed your shoulders, “I don’t have any sources about the next possible meet and greet. I was hoping you could keep the same production rolling. I have a new project involving a Nicholas Tortano. I want to get an interview with him.”

You didn’t recognise the name at all. Your fingers pinched at your long sleeve shirt. “An interview?”

Luther nodded, he winked and went back to his desk draw, slapping out a manilla folder.

He rubbed and clapped his hands, pushing and opening the new case to you.

“He has a history of his employed persons going missing. He has criminal history ties with Irish gangs and the italian mafia. I have a page of questions, I would like someone to ask him.”

You cleared your throat, “Me?”

Wagging his finger the elder man laughed, “No one has quite the balls as you deary...”

It sounded...Too dangerous.

“In that case,” you shuffled forward in your chair, “Can I be paid upfront for this job?”

You would not die at the hands of one gangster when you had your eyes set on another. Luther almost looked like he was going to tell you to get the fuck out of his office until he looked at your photos of August you’d taken. He was quickly reminded you had the best skills and to lose you would be suicide for his paper... You were the best thing to have happened to him. He accepted.

You sat in your work cubicle and aggressively jabbed at the key pad of your work phone. It’s not hard to find phone numbers. Nicholas Tortano had a nickname, “The Black Dog.” He was caught by paparazzi coming out of court a few times. His business empire related to charities. He was a philanthropist with a dirty history of crime connections. He had only been found guilty of third degree murder but many news articles in the past twenty years all labelled him as a omen of death, because anyone that had done him wrong was found dead not too long after...

You found the phone number and took a lucky gulp. There wasn’t an address for any business so if no one picked up, you were worried Idris might fire you for that mere disappointment alone.

The phone rung out once. You dialled again, the receiver picked up. You held your breath.

“Hello, Tortano and associates, who is calling?” the masculine tone soothed out.

“Hello, my name is Y/N Y/L/N, I’m a journalist from the local paper. Is there a chance I may be able to book an interview with Nicholas Tortano?”

There was a steady silence and a soft hum, “What does this pertain to?”

You rubbed your eyes and looked over the notes Luther had given you in the folder, “....People think he is ‘a mass murdering psycho with a thirst for crime’, I’m hoping to ask him some questions to seek the truth.”

“How ludicrous,” the man chuckled, “I am a gentleman. A businessman. Not a criminal.”

You strained over the phone as you spoke to the secretary, “I am sure but this is in regards to Mister Tortano.”

The phone went quite again, you thought maybe you’d lost the connection.

The sweet condescending waved through the sound, “I am he...are you free today for lunch?”

With widened eyes your voice caught in your throat. You felt like an idiot...you never imagined he would answer the call to his own company. CEOs never answer the call of a civilian first hand...

You cleared your throat and nervously clicked a pen, “I am, where would you like to conduct this meeting.”

You could hear him click something too. He sounded warm, and inviting on the phone, “Do you like Italian? Have you ever heard of Vapianos?”

A tiny smile touched your lips. When was the last time you were asked out to lunch? Your eyes rolled, for fuck sake, this was a job...not a date.

“I don’t mind it.”

11:54pm Wednesday 21st August 2024, Brisbane CBD, Vapianos.

Nick Tortano had invited you to a side of town with skyrise buildings. The Vapianos restaurant was on the bottom floor of some massive buildings.

You wrapped your scarf around your neck again. The leather was tight around your throat. It was like he was there with you...holding you...as you cried over a father that you loved and hated.

You shook your head and looked down at the notebook and piece of paper you were given by Luther.

You looked around at the tables and the waiters. The place was sparkling with a quality of...the wealthy and corporate. The palm leaves, the tinted glass windows that raced from floor to ceiling, the champagne glasses on a nearby table. It was all glorious decoration.

All the people there were beautiful...not a single appearance that resembled you...a pauper.

The awkward steps you took towards the receptionist resembled a weak lamb. You felt stupid for being there.

The server looked you up and down and it caused a sting to any confidence you had left. You touched your scarf.

“Hello, I’m looking for a Mister Tortano we have a meet-”

A hand glided across your back, you jumped a little and became confronted with a pair of dark brown orbs and handsome white teeth, “Hello, Miss Y/N.”

Nicholas...he was tall and wearing a simple sweater. Despite his causality he held an air of regality. Not to be overly romantic but you felt he would be a stunning prince if he was a royal member.

“I hope you don’t mind but I’ve had them set a table already.”

He held out an arm to you.

“Not at all,” You flushed and happily accepted it. You tucked it around and let him lead you carefully to a table. There was a set of plates and two wine glasses.

“Just give me a second or two to set up, is it alright if I tape your voice?” you asked reaching into your handbag.

He pulled out a chair for you and explained, “I would prefer no tapes, but I’m not adverse to photography.”

It wasn’t an unusual request. Lots of people didn’t like the sound of their voice. He must’ve been one of them.

It didn’t matter, photos were more your talents anyway.

“In that case, may I take the photos first and then perform the interview?”

He nodded and flashed a bigger beautiful smile.

“Where would you like me?”

You pulled out a office camera from your bag, you didn’t have time to go home and grab one of your ten others. You started to turn it on.

“If you could look away from the lens, relax your shoulders, lean back and look like you��re thinking. No smiling.”

“Do I look ugly with a smile?” he cheekily asked.

You couldn’t help but smile. He was charming and flirtatious and incredibly handsome.

“Terribly,” you teased, “No, my boss would just prefer a little more seriousness I believe. To make the page appear professional...plus the topic regarding the article with a smiling photo you’d look like a madman.”

He nodded promisingly and fell into the pose. When he heard the camera clicked a small smirk pulled at his lips before quickly trying to compose his face.

When the photos were finished you stuffed the camera back in your bag. He relaxed from his falsified stern appearance.

Now came the interview. You pulled out the sheet of questions Idris provided. Under no circumstances were you meant to ask anything but these....except....the questions....well...they were...

“So, you...ugh...hold on a moment....”

How many people have you killed?

What is currently the cheapest drug you can achieve from your circle?

Are you a homosexual?

What the fuck?! You weren’t even sure if you were legally allowed to ask these questions due to discrimination laws.

“Um...I...”

He smiled at you from across the table. You felt a pearl of sweat forming on your forehead.

“Stage fright?” Nick asked softly, tilting his head. He snapped his finger and a waiter came over and poured water into two cups. A basket of breadsticks were placed in the centre.

“No, well...yes...um. the questions I’m meant to ask you I stupidly didn’t read before coming here...” your cheeks felt warm. The embarrassment rose fast.

“So they’re not your questions?” his eyebrows lifted. His finger traced the lip of his glass.

“They’re my boss’s but I said I would ask them.”

Nicholas' lips parted back into a smile, “Enlighten me, I will be less offended knowing they’re not from you.”

You smoothed the paper out on the table and pulled out a notepad, clicking a pen after finding the least offensive one you licked your bottom lip and stuttered, “How...how would you describe yourself?”

He sighed and held the cup to his lips, “Vain, rich with a dominating grace.”

Those weren’t usual qualities someone described themselves as, usually people preferred to remain humble and soften their reality. It was an interesting new perception to attach to Nicholas Tortano the criminal who covered his wrong doings with funding medicine for sick children.

You noted it and looked at the page again to try and find another less offensive question. Frantically your finger scrolled down all the words. Your heart started to pick up. These were so ridiculous and disgusting. Right I go the jaws of the black dog- that’s what Luther had done to you.

You shyly laughed, “hmm, I...let me...-”

Nick slapped the cup back on the table. His smile had fallen, “Politely, Miss Y/N I don’t like my time to be wasted...how about you hand me that piece of parchment.”

He reached over with lightning speed. He pinch the paper and dragged it to him.

“Hey!-”

“Now now, here’s what we will do,” he peaked up at you and licked his bottom lip, “I’ll answer these questions and so will you.”

You lifted your chin and looked at him cautiously.

“But they’re not for me.”

“That doesn’t matter, I can see you’re nervous darling...so...let’s break tension.”

He trailed his thumb down the page and sighed, “Let’s see...ah yes I see how these would make you less inviting to involve yourself.”

After a moment he glanced and smirked at the questions, god you could throttle Luther right now for letting you go through this stupid interview.

“How many years did it take you to be where you are now as one of the most notorious crimelords?”

You tried to put on your best smile, “...yesterday...I stole this scarf...” you lied.

“Why Miss Y/N you must be a terrible influence!” He feigned a gasp of horror which made you lightly giggle, “I don’t label myself as a crime lord. As over the phone I stated simply, I’m a business man...my business so happens to involve crime. I’ve been in this business since I was thirteen years old. My first offence was Car theft. That was almost twenty years ago.”

Your throat shut. He was in his forties!? The damn bastard had the option of early 30s or maybe 20s if he shaved off his stubble entirely.

He looked between your face and your hands, “Are you going to write that down or do I have to do that too?”

You blinked and jumped with a start of noting down the new information, “Oh yes! Sorry!” Scribbling quickly you watched him, watching you...he was staring...like you were...something unusual.

“How many sentences have you been charged with?”

You shrugged unsure why you felt ashamed to say, “None.”

The pen in your hand twirled as the handsome gentleman scratched his nose, “Too many...in all up it has kept me behind bars for nine years total but I’ve been in and out for years. I only returned to the public eye a month ago.”

“Woah,” you whispered.

Nine years? A month? You didn’t have a lot of time to research him considering the call for lunch was so quick and speedy.

His fingers tapped the table softly. He shrugged, “Its not as bad as tellie makes it out to be...in fact it’s a way to network well. You can learn lots of new tricks when you’re forced into tight confinement.”

You started to take dot points. It’s interesting...being in prison for nine years...not all together but all total. Making connections and friends inside prison didn’t really click at first. You always assumed prison was a scary and lonely cell where you had to pee in front of everyone.

Nick looked back at the page and laughed, he rubbed his mouth and shook his head, “Are you a homosexual?”

You also laughed but it was more a awkward shyness, “No, I think I’m bisexual if anything but strictly gay I’m not. I can’t understand why that question would be even asked, I’m so sorry.” You grit your teeth and looked away.

He tilted his hand and shrugged, “It’s vicious rumour that I’m a pillow biter...I am not a homosexual.”

Its all he said. And that was something you really didn’t like writing down...it was so unnecessary.

“What is currently the cheapest drug you can achieve from your circle? Miss Y/N don’t tell me you sell drugs?” he giggled and folded the paper back a little.

'Jesus Christ'Luther!!!...you really wanted me to ask that!?' Your fists clenched under the table.

You dismissed it and grinned, “No, I do not. Sorry to be so boring....you?”

“Paracetamol,” he answered, “I can sell you some right now, I like to keep some nearby.”

Anyone could sell paracetamol...he deliberately said that, you knew.

“After the interview I think I might just,” you laughed and rubbed a little at your temple.

“How many people have you killed?”

You gasped. Your chest was like a loud metal band concert with your heart as the instrument racked, you didn’t understand how that was possible.

“None.” Well...your father....maybe...Nick didn’t need to know about that.

The philanthropic crime lord aka ‘businessman’ remained totally silent. Your hand paused.

“Are you not going to answer the question?...”

He put the paper down and plucked the menu, he unfolded the cardboard covered in matte black and gold designs, he looked down at the wine selection, “I think you might need to do something for me to answer that.”

“What?” you wanted to say you’d do it. But why would you promise anything to a man with his bad record.

“I’d need you to kill someone. And you don’t strike me as a murderer Miss Y/N.” His dark gaze flickered up at you, “Now...what would you like to eat?”

You bit your lip. He’s definitely killed before, or else he would’ve just said no. He wanted to you to know he was a murderer...you knew because his eyes remained perfectly still as he said it. No tremble or lying shame in those pupils.

You sat forward and drank a bit of your water.

Perhaps meeting Nick wasn’t just a benefit for the paper gossip. Maybe he could help you...you heard his voice ask you another question, probably about the menu, you do not remember...instead your thoughts tumbled out of your lips.

“....do you sell weapons Mister Tortano?”

The question caught him off guard. They weren’t on the paper your boss provided.

“Weapons?” he asked cautiously.

Shit, you had gone too far now to recall your thoughts, “Would you sell a gun to a woman even if she doesn’t have a license?”

His eyes sparkled.

“Whatever would you want a gun for Miss Y/N?” he leant back in his chair and pressed his fingers to his lips.

You tried to explain, but it was hard. You looked over your shoulder. It was too public to be discussing this. You whispered, “... There’s a rat who won’t leave me alone. I’d like to scare him...”

His eyes narrowed a little at your speech. He knew you weren’t being literal, so he replied coolly, “Are you asking for a gun or pest control?”

You whispered again, “A gun.”

He fluttered, you could tell he was staring down your shit to check for a wire.and clapped his hands loudly. The entire restaurant went from idle chatter and laughter to utter silence...it was eery...like a dream or a nightmare.

Nick shouted at the top of his lungs, echoing off the walls, “Leave us!”

The entire assembly of guests started to rise from their chairs. They packed up their brief cases and hand bags. Abandoning the half eaten food and untouched wine and champagne. Your nose wrinkled. What the fuck... they were all heading to the stair well, ignoring the elevators.

You looked back at Nicholas, confused, wondering if he meant you to leave too...you pinched the table cloth worryingly.

“Have you thought it through?” Nick asked now that the restaurant was empty, and quiet.

“What?” you didn’t understand. The entire perception of Nick Tortano was collapsing. He was so powerful...all those people were his. All of them under his thumb...all of them so obedient...

“Do you intend on threatening or killing?”

You felt trapped by his words.

“That’s my business Mister Tortano, politely speaking...” how could you confess to your intentions.

It was bad enough that he knew you wanted a gun.

You wondered if there was any chance you you make a run to the doors and run away. You were stepping from one scary man to another at this point.

After a while of sitting ashamed in silence, he stood up from his chair. His fingers lazily brushed the table, until he paused in front of you. He dragged his hand under your chin. He made you look at him, standing above you. His hand violently tore off your scarf and he tutted, “Is he the one who put the collar on you? The man to cover you in bruises? Might need a better foundation darling...I’m not stupid. I’d like to know if it’s going to reflect back on me. What’s the chaps name?”

You didn’t like how personally close he was standing above you. You felt small and trembled beneath his pinning dark brown eyes...they were practically black like some soulless shark. His white teeth looked starved.

You lied again, “...Lloyd...Ha-Han-Hansen...” perhaps Lloyd could handle Nick? But how? He couldn’t handle August. You regretted saying his name but that was it...you threw the only friend you had under the bus.

“Hmmm can’t say I know him well...”

“He’s um...a lawyer,” you lied again.

He smirked and whispered, “Is he?” his eyes narrowed with a glint of mischief.

He flipped his cardigan sweater up, on his hip, inside tucked in his jeans was a scary black gun... A hand gun.

“Well I do hope you get what you want out of him,” he pulled out the gun and set it on the table in front of you, “Here, consider it a gift...I find your disposition incredibly pleasing...”

You glanced at the gun and felt a rush of something...adrenaline? Anxiety? Arousal? Something became alive...

“I need to go. I’m so sorry,” you rushed to stand up, you pinched the weapon and carefully tucked it into your hand bag, “I need to leave.”

This was too easy. Far too coincidental. Maybe this was your father's spirit watching over you?

“Until we meet again,” he chuckled and stood aside. You could hear his wickedly laughter as you fled to the doors. As the doors closed behind you, you could see in the distance, Nick standing by the windows smelling your scarf deeply. Your hand touched your throst and felt the jagged material. You weren't sure if you wanted to go back for the scarf. Watching him press his face into the soft material- the action was perverse...he was perverse...just like August. A mighty shiver rolled up your spine. You didn’t have time to worry about that.

You were filled with all the raw emotions of the last month. Anger, grief, revenge....

You now had a gun... The power to wield death easily. Now you just needed your chance.

You kept hearing Lloyd in the back of your mind...would killing August be worth your own life?

Especially life in prison.

You shoved it back and focused on the pain you felt, the agony as you cried in his lap under threats of his spanking. He wiped you when you used the toilet...he called you puppy...he forced you to cum and cry....he made you beg and suck his cock just to hold you...he treated you as a subhuman.

02:06pm Wednesday 21st August 2024, Woolloongabba, Brisbane

You opened your front door, slamming it behind you. And as you started to slide the bolts and chains, you heard something down the hallway...a small crash? No? A grunt...

Angry eyes and a sneer grew on your face. You marched down, your father’s door was wide open.

And there the fucker was. August... Folding clothes into your father’s bed from a washing basket.

You saw red.

“Wh-what the fuck...get out!”

He lifted his head and finished folding a pair of your jeans, your head leaned back to your bedrooms opened door before you looked back at him inside your father's room.

“Your home is a mess,” He said nonchalantly, “I won’t have you stomping around in squalor.”

He had gone into your room and cleaned it. And on any given day, that would’ve earned a man a blowjob, not him though, no...he was in your space and invading your life too much.

With a flared nostril you snarled, “I am giving you five seconds to leave. Or I'll-”

He snickered at your defiant demand, “Or what? You’re going to call the cops?”

You didn’t want to kill him here...You dug into your hand bag and it felt impossibly slow and heavy in your hand. You pointer the gun at his head and fought the trembling in your body and your voice, “Or you’re going to choke on your own blood August.”

His eyes widened, he didn’t expect your display. He paused and continued to fold the laundry. You didn’t like being ignored and moved inside of your father’s room. It wouldn’t be the first time a man died in this room.

“You’re not going to shoot me,” He said without a single hint of fear.

You held the gun now in both hands. You stood strong and came closer around the bed.

You scoffed, “No, of course not, you manipulate me, drug me, hit me, and raped me but 'oh nooooo I won’t shoot you'?”

He smiled and shook his head slowly. He appeared so unafraid and that caused a spit of hate to hit your face. You wanted him to be on his knees, begging for his life, pleading for forgiveness while he pissed himself. This was not at all what you imagined, him folding the washing and sorting to find pairs of socks.

“One,” You said.

He sighed and threw your underwear back into the basket. He started to walk around the bed gradually.

You screeched, “Two, stay the fuck away from me!”

He stopped and raised his hands. Slowly he perched himself on the corner of your dad’s bed.

“Three,” you said a little shakily. He still didn’t flinch. You felt suffocated. Why wasn’t he scared?

You pissed in his lap when he pointed one at you in the club. This wasn’t fair.

Tears uncontrollably started to fall from your eyes. You didn’t want to kill him...god you hated him...but if he wasn’t going to beg you, you didn’t want to kill him. Especially in this room...besides ...what would you do with his body?

“F-four, don’t make me do this August!”

You moved closer and closer until the tip of the metal weapon pressed into his forehead.

It was now or never...“Pl-please, don’t...” you begged, hoping he would walk out of the room and apartment. You squeezed your eyes shut.

You pulled the trigger and screamed as you did it. The trigger didn’t move...it felt stuck. You pulled it again and nothing happened. You opened your eyes and noted how the gun hadn’t gone off and August was still happily breathing with a dark, sadistic grin on his moustached lips.

“Five...” he hummed and wrapped his palm around the barrel, pulling it up and tugging it away from your trembling hands, “your safety is still on, and...” He clicked off the top and sighed, “It’s not even loaded.”

You crashed to your knees and vomited right over his leather shoes. You weren’t prepared for the rush of exhaustion to hit you. Your body shook. Your fingers clenched the soaked carpet. The metal of the unloaded gun lifted your chin up. Tears ran down your cheeks beautifully.

“Tell me, did the piggy give this to you?”

Your swollen lips blubbered, “No!” Lloyd didn’t need any more wicked men following him around.

You shut your eyes and sniffled. Surely August would kill you. This must’ve been some sort of a strike three, yes?

“Then where did you get your paws on one of these?...” he bit his smile lip.

“A friend...” it wasn’t a total lie. Nick liked you, you somewhat found him intriguing. Yes you’d only met that day...but he was a friend now for a moment in your mind.

August pulled you up into his lap by your hair. Hot lips pressed into your neck and nuzzling your ratty leather collar, “You were really going to kill me...weren’t you?” he cooed as you started to sniffle and choke on your tears, “You pulled that trigger. I underestimated you sweetness...don’t worry. I won’t punish you for that.”

He cupped the back of your head, pulling you in for a big kiss. His lips soft, but his hand tight and filled with dominance.

You felt light. He was kissing you just after you vomited. Gross.

He pulled away and spat at the floor, he chuckled and pressed his nose against yours.

“In fact...I got you a gift.”

You whined and fluttered your eyes, “I don’t want a gift from you.”

You weren’t mentally prepared for any sick sexual torture he had in store for you. You could see his jaw shift and his eyes dash back and forth.

“Are you sure? I think you’ll like it.”

Your hands touched the collar hopefully. Maybe it was the key?

He slid his hands under your armpits. You heard your bag hit the dry side of the floor.

He lifted you with ease to your feet and pressed a hand at the small of your back, pushing you to the bathroom.

He was so huge compared to you. The lower ceiling made you have a flash of worry...what if he hit his head?

He was fine.

He turned on the shower and peeled away your clothes. He wasn’t rough, and he wasn’t leering...he was soft...and patient. He pushed your long sleeved shirt up and gasped at the sight of bruises Lloyd created from the gym. His thumb unkindly pressed into one. You whined and tried to step away but your ass pressed into the vanity sink.

He knew he hadn’t given you these.

“And who has my puppy been playing rough with? Don’t tell me you’ve spread your legs for someone else now...”

He turned you around slowly, inspecting the marks he had not made on your skin. His hands palmed over your flesh.

The steam from the shower began to whaf out. You tried to not imagine the water bill ticking up.

He pinched your bra off and watched your arms circle to cover your chest.

He turned you back to face him. Unbuttoning your jeans, he tugged them down and helped take off your shoes. He pressed his lips to a bruise on your outer thigh. The temptation to throw your knee into his throat was great.

His hand cupped the back of your knee. His nose was so close to your underwear covered pussy, you could feel his hot breath tickling your clit.

Your panties were gradually pulled down to your ankle and you used his shoulder for balance as you stood out of the flimsy material.

He stood back and opened the shower door for you. He left the bathroom door open and you didn’t want to risk a punishment for locking him out. He took your clothes to the laundry and heard him open your cleaning supply closet where you kept a mop and broom and vacuum cleaner.

As you soaped your body, the suds building along your skin and back you sighed. The collar rubbed against your neck. It was a reminder...

He was powerful. He was scary and you were risking death. You had just tried to kill him...at any moment he could bash your head in until your skull caved, no one would find you for days...maybe weeks...he said he wouldn’t kill you but that was before you pulled a gun on him.

You were angry at yourself...angry at Ben....why would the gun be empty?! Couldn’t Nick have told you that? Maybe he assumed you knew how to handle one...

August came back into the bathroom after ten minutes of cleaning. You didn’t dare to leave the shower in that time.

He was back. And now...he was naked. You uncontrollably worried and pressed your back into the bathroom tile. He stood into the shower, stealing the hot spray when it hit his back.

He was so hairy, and huge. He was like a bear.

You gulped and glanced at his dick. He was flaccid but you knew he could fuck you with a soft dick or just his hands alone.

He held out his hand and whispered, “The soap, please.”

Your hand shook as you shakily handed over the small white bar. It was the cheapest shit on the shelves you could find.

Now you regretted not spending the money you saw in your bank account. You would die feeling poor.

You tried to cover your nakedness. A hand between your thighs. You felt the bareness and cringed your face. He would’ve waxed you again or shaved while you were ‘in his care’ after the club incident.

The huge man started to rub the soap along his thighs and his arms and chest.

He smelt of your vomit...he cleaned it up for you...his clothes...you could hear the laundry machine.

He either was cleaning evidence or he was staying the night.

His face...was soft. He wasn’t angry...he was deep in thought... He was pleased. The faintest of smiles was on his furry face.

When he was finished. He touched your waist and pressed you to turn around him in the cubicle. Now the hot water covered your shivering skin. He rubbed some more soap into his hands and rubbed the bubbled into your skin. Along the back of your neck he rubbed and pinched. A tiny moan imminently slipped from your lips. You hoped he hadn’t heard it.

He did...

You knew he was gliding his hands down to your bottom and rubbing the darkened skin he planted when he spanked you. You hissed and softly swore as his thumb pressed in. A small threat, a warning? A reminder...

He touched you everywhere except your tits and your cunt...which shocked you as you braced from his hands every time they drew near those areas. The sense of denial played in your mind.

Your body felt warm...humming as it was teased.

He did touch the leather around your neck and tutted at the parts you damaged with scissors, where the metal you couldn’t cut poked out.

Turning the shower off, August opened the door again and guided you out onto the soft floor mat. He took a towel from the vanity draw and wrapped it over your shoulders like you were some kid at the beach.

He wrapped a towel around his waist. His body dripping and soaking into the edge.

You were poked out of the room and made to go into your room. Your dad’s door was still open however and that made you uncomfortable.

On your bed...was a box....

The gift...was an actual gift!? It was wrapped in white and gold paper with a pink tulle ribbon around it.

You shifted your towel around to wrap yourself in and looked between the man leaning on the doorway and the wrapped box on your bed.

He nodded to it. Open it. A silent command.

Your curled your lips into your mouth as you pulled the tulle ribbon away and scratched the paper back.

A deep gasp left your chest, “A phone?...”

It was one of the newest if the models you used. This type of phone usually cost three thousand dollars!

Behind you the awful man laughed softly, “For stepping on the one from the club.”

The tiny smile that was coming to your lips, disappeared. If he hadn’t reminded you of that night, you might’ve kept smiling. Your fist clenched. You were angry. Did he know how scared you were as you ran in the dark? Did he know you hated him even more because of this gift. This wasn’t a gift, this was a bribe...

Your jaw ticked and you turned on your heel, you held your towel tightly, “I am not saying thankyou.”

He chuckled at that and nodded, he tilted his head to the side and wagged a finger at you, “I swear every time I see you, you become twice as fiery.”

When he stood forward you got scared and tripped back and fell onto your bed. The phone box slid to the floor. Your heart raced. You noted how you accidentally flashed him as the towel fell from your hands.

He paused, not moving any further. He could see how frightened you were. And if you didn’t know any better...he didn’t want to scare you today.

His smile fell and he sighed, “Before I forget...your sex toy arrived.”

You crept off your bed as he left the door way. He was quickly back before you could make an escape.

He held a box and threw it to you. Without thought you let go of your towel and caught the box with the erotic images and product on it.

Stark nude and wet you stood. You turned away from him and put the box with your newly bought toy on the bed. You put your phone box beside it.

He was watching you with bird eyes as you tried to pick up the towel and cover yourself again.

“So let me see,” he hummed, he crossed his arms over his chest and clicked his tongue, “First you threaten to kill me,” he pushed away from the door, “You then attempt to actually kill me,” and he shakes his head chuckling, “and now I find out my cock isn’t enough to satisfy? Good heavens...have I neglected my greedy little puppy?”

Your hands lifted... Your towel was loose but you had tucked it to your body. You prepared your fighting stance like how Lloyd showed you.

“Get out...” you spat.

“No,” he smirked, “I will not.” He launched forward.

He grabbed your towel and you slipped from the material. You ran around his body, ripping his towel off as you ran out.

You slipped on water droplets in the hall and slid down the hall to the kitchen.

As he came around the corner, you flung a cupboard door open hard that smacked his hard in the face. You smiled hearing his painful groan.

"Fuck!"

He pushed it back and tried to grab you as you ran around the mini island. You threw his towel at his face as you made a rush back to your room. You managed to lock a chain and bolt on the bedroom door. You panicked and climbed under your pathetic single bed. You heard him behind the wood.

“Open up little puppy...or I’m gonna huff...” he said, “and then I’ll puff...”

When you made no sign of opening the door and remaining beneath the bedframe. The door burst open. The locks tore through the metal nook. He walked through. He nakedly crouched by the side of the bed and sighed at you curled up under your bed. He shook his head and softly smiled. He laid flat on the floor beside you.

“Watcha doin down there sweetness?”

You felt a breath escape you. A soft laugh. Was he fucking serious?!

“Hiding,” you mumbled into your wrists.

He fluttered his eyes shut. His hand rested on his Bare stomach.

“Well I found you, so you might as well come out. You’re black and blue. I don’t want to drag you over the carpet, don’t want rip up your knees pup.”

You couldn’t understand why he kept calling you that. You weren’t a puppy...you...you were human and you still weren’t sure how that pet name even fit you .

You knew he was right though, there was only way out and it didn’t matter. You would need to face him. If he wanted to kill you, nothing could’ve stopped him from strangling your throat. After a minute or two you finally gave in... Wiggling your butt from under the bed. He moved up to his knees. He watched you stick your head out and shimmy to the open air.

You knew trying to run out the door was useless and there was no other locks other than the front door. You rubbed your lips, staring at the broken locks and the door that hung off only one hinge...you really hated him...

His large soft hand rubbed your cheek and the back of your neck, cupping you closer to his body.

Both in your knees, he pulled you into his chest.

You pleaded softly, “Please...”

“Kiss me puppy,” he begged and looked down at your lips. You glanced to his eyes and shut yours as your pushed your face up.

He was gentle. His tongue poked Into your mouth and your lips closed. He kissed you and sucked on your bottom lip loudly. God it felt good. It felt hot and inviting. This kiss was like a deep hot bath or a cosy blanket. His hands squeezed your arms and cocooned you closer to his damp skin. You just wanted to wrap yourself in his body and sleep...except your body felt attacked by an invisible electricity, like a dozen bees rumbling down from your chest to the folds between your thighs.

Your could barely breathe.

When he pulled back he shuddered, “Are you turned on?”

You gasped, “No, why would I-”

“You’re trembling.”

“I’m scared,” your nose twitched and your gazed over his chest, feeling his cock twitch against your belly.

He chuckled and shook his head, he pressed a hard kiss against your cheek, “Merely two sides of the same coin...”

You whimpered and felt his hands smooth down your ass to your thighs. He lifted you up and pushed you onto your bed. You were at the same height now. Him kneeling on the floor with your sitting on your bed.

“You are safe, trust me,” he kissed your lips briskly, “Say it.”

“I...” you hesitated, “I am safe...and I trust you.”

His thumb pressed under your jaw, he kissed you again, “Good girl. I am not going to hurt you...truly...I promise.”

He dragged his lips down to your chest. He sucked in one of your tits. His lips smacked as he licked and sucked around your skin, you felt strange. Dirty but in a good way. Your own back curled to push into his mouth.

He pulled up after one satisfying suck, “That felt good yea?”

“S-so good,” you stuttered. Your cheeks felt warm it was like you were drunk but you knew you had a full sober conscious..

“Would you like to feel that again?” he asked, his hands ran up your thighs, spreading your knees.

You sighed as his thumb licked at your clit. You rocked your hip a little and whined. Fuck it felt good.

“Answer me puppy”

“I- oh god- I want to feel that again.”

He kissed your belly and pushed you back a little. Your head thudded against the wall. Your hands shakily grasped some pillows and put them behind your back. Your gleaming cunt glistened...that was totally you...no lube...no spit....just your arousal alone.

“Look at this pussy.” He marvelled as he pushed two fingers inside. You gasped and let out a feral moan.

“It just swallows up my fingers...do you like my fingers fucking your wet pussy?”

You whined and but your lip. When you didn’t answer, he pulled them out. He started licking them lewdly as he waited for your reply.

“I...” Your hands covered your eyes as you moaned, “I don’t know.”

“Are you turned on?” he asked you again.

“Yes,” you admitted. You just wanted his fingers back there again.

“Do you want my cock?” He purred in a soft belittling time.

“Y-yes...” you almost sobbed. God admitting it now made yourself sick. How could you admit to that? Your entire goal was to kill him. Take him down. Destroy his reputation. But here you were.

In your bedroom, crying for him to fuck you with his huge dick.

He climbed on top of you and tugged your ankles over his waist.

You felt his hard head press into your hole. His cock popped inside and his hips started the deep defend inside of you. He held your hips, lifting you up.

“Do you hate me?” he crooned, his teeth gnawed at your earlobe.

“I do,” you growled, in his ear, “fucking hate your guts.”

He laughed and groaned, “You hate my fucking guts?”

“Yes, fuck,” you gasped and scratched the back of his neck.

He was stretching you out and you drowned in his touch. You felt his cock tapping at your special spot and felt your knees clench tighter around his ribs.

“Do you want me to fuck you?” he asked despite being balls deep and jerking his hips into yours.

“Yes. Oh god,” you gargled as he decided to slam himself harder and faster. Your nails dug into his biceps. Your teeth were grit tightly. You kept swearing. It hurt and felt so good altogether.

“Who do you belong to?” he sighed, his eyes winced while your pussy clenched him tightly.

You grunted angrily, “No body.”

He punctuated with his jerking hips, “You. Belong. To. Me.”

“N-no!” You yelped, his finger curled under your collar and tugged up you neck until you were forced to put yourself up on your elbows. He slowed his speed but kept his deep entrance.

“Oh but you do puppy, you do. You already know it. You just don’t want to admit it.”

His other hand pressed against your clit and your eyes rolled a little. Your nostril flared. Fuck that was painfully good. He tugged you up by the leather strap until your nose pressed against his. His moustache tickles against your lip.

“Whose collar is around this throat?” he growlee.

You grunted, “Yours.”

“That’s right...it’s. Mine. My. Collar.”

He kissed you hard and possessively. Not once did he let the collar go. He shoved his mouth into your ear as he ground down hard inside your cunt.

“Would you fuck any other man with this collar on?”

Your hand hugged the back of his neck and scratched, “No!”

“So tell me, who do you belong to.”

Your gasped, spit flying from your mouth against his as you said it, “Y-you.”

“That’s right, good puppy. You belong to me. I own you. You are my pet. You are mine to look after...mine to protect.”

It was a mantra, a speech that planted itself into your mind as a new fact...like a new commandment that always had been yet unspoken until now.

“Say it you little bitch,” he barked.

“Yours, I’m yours,” your eyes rolled as you started to cum, your words caught in your mouth until you Released a ear piercing scream, “I belong to you!!”

You felt him cackle as you wailed through the orgasm. The pressure was like a water balloon bursting in your belly and shooting a burning pleasure through your cunt.

It took you a while to calm down. You sobbed. The pleasure was too much...you felt confused and consumed. His cock twitch and he grunted loudly before freezing. His cock moved again and you felt him pull away, his cum rushed out and dripped out of you.

You felt full and empty. It was an unusual sensation.

He was sweating, your were drenched. Leaning over your trembling body, he pressed a soft kiss to your temple and sighed, “what are you?”

“Yours,” you whined.

He chuckled and shook his head. His fingers pinched your jaw, “No, what are you to me?”

“I...” you paused and blinked lazily. Your brain was too fuzzy. “I don’t understand...I don’t know.”

Your hand wandered up to your throat. His hand was fiddling with the metal. You heard the collar pop and click. He pulled the collar away and threw it over his shoulder, “You’re my puppy.”

"And..." You voice rattled through your teeth, "And you're...daddy?"

He kissed you again and nodded, "Good girl."

HELPLINES:

If you are a victim of sexual abuse, assault or domestic violence or know someone who is please reach out to these links that share helpline services, phone numbers or emails. Consent and respect is important in every relationship whether between friends, family or even strangers. .

Australian Helpline Services

UK Helpline Services

American Helpline Services

India Helpline Services.

[homosexualmorelikehomiesexual]

Why Isn't Oliver A Girl? A Saltburn Analysis

shoutout to @aquickstart for this brilliant question that led to me writing this in my notes app at 7 in the morning and simply does not deserve to be relegated to DMs. hope you all enjoy our brainrot!

~~~~

i think it depends on this. which aspect of olivers desire for felix is most offensive to modern normie sensibilities? the homosexual one, or the selfcestuous one? i...say its the former. i think its seen as normal to want, if not allowed to actually achieve, (particularly given british bloodline classism), for a white man to want to be a different, more powerful white man. to want to ascend his social position for power.

but if oliver was a woman, it would be the inverse. her romantic desire would be seen as normal, (if still unsettling, because of its sexually predatory nature. because people are not used to thinking of women as interested in or capable of sexual violence, much less seeing it onscreen.) but her desire to BE him would be the uncomfortable part, bc women are not supoosed to want power in a man way, theyre supposed to want it in a woman way. theyre supposed to work within the system as a damsel to white men. white women, particularly those who are not opporessed in any other way, are the First Lady to white supremacy. they are not supposed to want to fully replace men at the top of the food chain, they are supposed to utilize their position as subordinate to further their entitlement to second in command status; because being subordinant grants them the plausible deniability of victimhood. just as felixs appearance of ultimate generosity absolves him of guilt for his privilege, so does white womens appearance of ultimate victimhood absolve them of theirs.

except....thats actually common. look at terfs. look at White Feminism and how it seeks to merely replace men rather than dismantle the system entirely. so while on some level it would still be upsetting to cis men to see a story that seemingly openly condones misandrist social climb, i think they would dismiss it as simply reverse sexism. and people would misinterpret it as that, as being a poor attempt at feminism that accidentally shows its ass by glorfiying girlboss feminism.

but. thats the (unreliable) narrative girloliver tells us.

because girl olivers desire for felix would not be one of heterosexual romantic interest. it would be one of cannibalistic gender envy. girl oliver could not exist, because she would be a trans man.

and THAT. would make people WAY too uncomfortable. it would put way too much scrutiny on the very few trans men in the public eye. it would not be safe. the reason we are able to take saltburn in good faith, is because the narrative of gay male desire as predatory is no longer the only depiction of it. i think it would break peoples minds seeing transmaculinity as predatory rather than transfemininity, and not in a good way. i dont think cis men would even conciously pick up on it, much less feel threatened by it. i think theyd be far more uncomfortable with the idea of women, cis women, being sexually predatory.

but cis women in the audiences would lose their shit. because they see transmasculinity not as predatory, but as cowardly. as a betrayal of sisterhood, a joining of the enemy and a defecting of that mutual suffering under patriarchy that white cis women cling to because it grants them that immunity when they enact their own bigotry. because womanhood is something you are supoosed to love and hate in equal measure. so to want to denounce it, to be dysphoric and find more joy in being masculine, is offensive because it bursts that bubble, it shows this narrative of universal sisterhood for the cult that it is. wanting to leave means you are excommunicated. just as a trans woman wanting to be accepted into that sisterhood, bursts the bubble because it acknowledges that theres more to womanhood than hating it.

but....heres the thing. this is what would make girliver (heh) saltburn brilliant. it would force people to reconsile with the fact that out of the two. out of transmasculinity, and girlboss feminism. one of them is much more uncomfortable to us, much more of a threat to patriarchy rather than a contribution to it. and its not the one we pretend it is. desoite the supposed accepted narrative that misandrist social climb is the most hated thing...its actually a fundamental part of how white patriatchy functions. the REAL thing people consider transgressive, is the notion that you would want to be a man not for power but for the joy of it. to separate maleness from power. because you are not allowed to feel that. either as a trans or even it seems to me a cis man.

one of my first thoughts when i went to answer this was that... canon oliver and felix as metaphors speak of...white male emptiness. of the way consumerism, both in the capitalistic material gain sense, and in the primal cannibalistic sexual consumptiom and discarding of your conquests - is the only avenue through which men are allowed to signal a personality. they do not get to experience true self love outside of who they  provide for or who serves them. self love and appreication of ones own beauty outside of sexual usefulness are considered feminine. so is appreciation of beauty as a whole outside of sexual appeal. it is considered gay (in feminine therefore transgressive therefore infectious and predatory way) to appreciate a nuce fruity drink. or a sunset. or to put effort into ones own appearance, outside of the exclusive purposes of either getting pussy, or living up to the male power fantasy. to love masculinity for masculinities sake. not in a romantic way but in a self love way, is a deeply transgressive act. that NO ONE talks about. but it is everywhere. so for girl oliver to ugly cry while flicking the bean like its an actual dick on top of a grave, only to retroactively claim her obsession with felix was just a good for her girlboss narrative...that would rip the common narrative like a wet paper bag.

it would also totally reframe the sex scenes with venetia and farleigh. with venetia it would be a case of...on the one hand the taboo of predatory lesbianism. but on the other, the girlbossification of..... katy perry style straight women sexual experimentation. particularly with transmascs, bc it gives them the plausible deniability that its not actually gay. so thered be a lot of debate there who is really taking advantage of who there. especially because nonpenetrative particularly lesbian sex isnt seen as real sex therefore its not seen as a form of assault. and with farleigh itd be a case of girlbossifying sexual conquest over men. pegging. tho i doubt girl oliver would pack a strap. maybe shed finger him idfk. but itd definitely be some sort of like, sexual dominance as empowering until you think about the racial dynamic and realize its actually buckbreaking.

so ultimately i think it would be BRILLIANT. but it would also be a fundamentally different story, which people simply are not ready to hear. idk enough about emerald fennell to judge whether or not she would be able to even think of this, let alone portray it faithfully, given she is a white wealthy cis woma, but especially after barbie, i am IFFY about white wealthy cis womens attempts at feminism. particularly when it comes to gender transgression and portrayal of transmasculinity of any kind. fucking sasha in barbie is the only one who dislikes hot pink feminism, shes not even a proper tomboy, and shes effectively forcefemmed

[princesssmars]

something new

a monet de haan x reader

your first gala in the upper east side, and a certain princess catches your eye...

first | previous | next

a/n: need her bad idk.

warnings: maybe a little bit of monet being ooc? idk ill set it up in the future 😭. neglectful or just kinda a hole parents bc all these kids are messed up. enjoy .

wc: 1.731

when you're parents told you they were moving the company's main office (and essentially your whole life) to new york city, its safe to say you were more than just a little upset. like, upset enough to crash one of your dads cars, but you managed to hold yourself back from doing that. barely.

granted youre family had moved around a bit when you were younger, but youd been in maine for 3 years now and had finally settled in and made actual friends. and the scenery wasnt half bad either.

but as you ride in your parents limo down the streets of manhattan, you cant help but feel isolated. cold. like the citys skyscrapers are mocking you. and dear old dad lecturing you on proper gala etiquette is not helping.

"and remember, everything you do and say reflects on us and the company. be smart about your actions and choose your words wisely. especially to your new peers. none of that sarcasm you oh so love."

ah, yes. the students of constance billiard. the children of the powerful and rich, the next great minds of our future...

a glorified description instead of calling them all a bunch of annoying privileged assholes. granted you were also privileged, but you knew how to at least act like a decent person.

the limo eventually rolls to a stop outside of a grand building, the flashes of paparazzi cameras slightly blinding you. you put on a fake smile anyway.

once inside your parents leave you to mingle with potential new business partners. or a new social circle. same thing.

so here you are, wandering the halls and rooms of the museum, eventually making youre way to the open bar and grabbing yourself a drink. non-alcoholic of course, wouldnt want drunken you causing a scandal and ending up in the gossip blogs by the morning.

"sure you dont want something stronger?" a voice sounds from your right. it comes from a man, or a boy rather, probably around your age. hes tall with pale skin, tired eyes, and sunken cheeks. "trust me, around these...vultures, youre gonna need it."

you laugh through your nose, tipping your head and glass torwards the stranger. "believe me i would if could but uh...expectations and all that. you know how it is."

"hm, sounds familiar. but uh, no, my dads are more the "we'll always support you and ignore the stupid shit you do" type. which i guess works out great for me." he says, taking a long sip of his drink.

he seemed a bit troubled, but then again, every kid here was. comes with the cash.

"try having your parents be both overbearing and absent at the same time. mindfuck isnt even the word." you sigh, smiling when he chuckles after you.

sharing this much with a stranger isnt the smartest move, you know. but youre feeling reckless.

as you both continue witty conversation, you feel eyes burning into your side. you glance to your right, and you luckily manage to keep your eyes from widening as a pretty pair of brown eyes connect to yours.

the boy (whos named you learned is max) follows your line of sight. his eyebrows raise and he wears a sly smile.

"ah, see you've caught monets eye. wish i could say shes harmless but..."

monet. you repeat the name a few times in your head. you like it.

you're brought back to attention when you feel a cold hand on your shoulder. max smiles at you and nods torwards the other side of the room.

"cmon, let me introduce you"

.

.

.

"who is that?"

"hm?" luna hums, too busy on her phone to pay much attention to what her best friend is speaking. she needs to pick the best pictures of julien tonight to post, after all.

monet sighs, tapping the dark-haired girl aggressively on the shoulder and pointing to where max sits at the bar, indulging in what seems like a pleasant conversation with an attractive stranger.

luna squints her eyes and hums. "hm...they do look familiar... let me check." she goes back on her phone, quickly tapping before showing the screen to her best friend.

"her name is y/n l/n, daughter of edmund and marianne l/n, renowned for their investments in colleges and college funding. family is in between old and new money. only recently moved here to new york. she's most likely going to go to constance so we should see her around..."

the girl trails off her sentence as she notices the other still staring contemplatively in your direction. she realizes and laughs lightly. "i see youve picked your next prey."

she tries not to laugh louder as monet's head whips torwards her, an unconvincing scowl on her face. "no, its because shes new and already talking to max. we need to make sure shes not a threat. thats all."

"whatever you say, hun." luna sighs, texting a blunt message to the afromentioned boy.

come over. bring that girl with you.

.

.

.

there werent many times in your life you were nervous - enough that you could count them on one hand. but now, being led over to some of the hottest most intimidating people you've seen tonight by a boy youve know for 10 minutes, its safe to say youre a little on edge.

"y/n, i, regretfully and against my will," he starts, whispering the last part under his breath making you purse your lips trying not to smile, "introduce you to my group of friends."

the next few seconds of silence makes you feel like a 7-year-old introducing themselves to their new class. luckily, one of the girls, with light brown skin and buzzed down hair gives you what seems like a genuine smile. "hi there, y/n, im julien. this is obie, luna, and monet. its nice to meet you."

she introduces herself and her friends that sit to her right; a boy with curly brown hair and an abnormally large forehead, a tall girl who wears a pretty but almost...scheming? smile, and then the most gorgeous girl youve seen tonight with brown skin and brown twists.

you meet the gaze of the last one. monet. shes staring you down with lidded brown eyes that watch your every move like a hawk. you stare back challengingly. the corner of her mouth raises with a smile.

"sit down. we dont bite." there was a glint in monets eyes as she spoke, hoping you pick up on what she wants to say. unless you want me too.

you unwillingly break eye contact when you sit down across rom her and next to max. he slightly nudges you, and laughs when you see his expression and roll your eyes.

"so y/n, are you new around here? how are you liking ney york so far?" the one called obie asks.

you squint your eyes as you think over your answer. "yeah, my parents just moved here for their business. and the city is fine. a little...duller than what i had in mind."

"maybe you just arent looking in the right places." monet speaks up, moving her hand from propping up her face to reaching over her leg.

"really?" you ask, resuming the charged eye contact between you two.

"really."

"shes right, most generic tourist shit is worn out by now," max speaks up, lifting his drink up in the air to you. "us natives would be happy to show you around to all the truly unique spots."

you dont show it but his enthusiasm to include you makes you feel warm inside.

"i'd...really appreciate that. thanks. but only if its alright with the rest of you. wouldnt wanna intrude in your little social circle."

you turn towards the other four, waiting for their responses. julien and obie look inviting enough, luna looks indifferent yet intrigued. monet is wearing a blank expression.

luna whispers into her ear.

she smiles.

"we'd be happy too."

max smiles and claps his hands.

"fantastic. welcome to your own little circle of hell."

.

.

.

the night continues and so do the conversations. occasionally throughout the night you go back into the habit of observing people and direct it to your new acquaintances.

how obie doesnt look quite that comfortable around his so called friends since childhood.

how luna and monet stick together like the creepy ass twins from the shining.

how juliens side of the conversations sometimes go stale.

how max drinks and drinks.

rich kids with rich kid problems.

.

.

.

eventually the night ends and you say your goodbyes after exchanging information. you smile and laugh with max, whos not quite hammered but does have the slurred speech and looseness in his body of someone who does, who is glad to have a friend who "doesn't have a pogo stick far up their ass" and eager to show you around the city in the forthcoming weeks before school starts up again.

as you wait outside on the curb waiting for the valet to bring your car back around and parents to stop smooching up to the other business people that went to the gala, you spot a figure slowly coming up to your left.

"ive gotta say, youve made quite the little introduction tonight, l/n" her smooth voice directs to you, staring out ahead of her before she looks to you at your slight chuckle.

"i barely did or said anything, max was the one to introduce and talk for me most of the night."

"you didnt need to. you're fresh meat. everyones going to be intrested in you regardless."

you smirk. "is that why you were staring holes into me all night?"

she moves her mouth to speak before who you assume to be her mother walks up beside her and tells her their car is here, the girl nodding as her mother leaves yet again.

"you're lucky you met us tonight, l/n. we'll knock you into shape soon enough." she tells you before walking after her mother. it sounds like a promise and a threat wrapped into one.

you meet eyes before she gets inside her car.

you feel the tap of fathers hand on your shoulder, urging you to get inside your vehicle.

as you sit inside the car, your parents conversation dulls as you watch the city streets pass you by.

they all seem a bit brighter, you think.

.

.

.

.

ooo the way i had to force myself down and finish this. i feel like the way i wrote this and y/n in general flip flopped but idk i'll fix it. thinking of making this a series but dont wanna get ahead of myself. sorry this took so long 😭😭

[visualnovelboyfriend]

like yeah you got me. i dont tihnk trans men experiecne a particular type of transphobia that nobody else on earth experiences. block me about it i geuss. i dont believe that men can be lesbians onthe basis of lesbianism being exclusive of men in every capacity adn yes that includes your AFAB UNITY!!! type of sentiment willnot fly here. yiuare not inherently granted access to lesbianism by being afab and you are never excluded from access to lesbianism by being amab. cry about it spme more bioessentialist worm bcoz im not reading ur dumb ass essays pulled off the script fo a lesbian corrective rape fetishist. oh nooo the joy of mutual udnerstanding and solidarity and recognition of our similarities adn differences what the fuuuck i want a single homogenized Queer identity so i can minmax my slurs. what the fuck are you talking about? youdont even believe in this stuff and if you genuienly truly do id hope nobodys takinf you seriously because lookng at this kind of sentiment offline for about 10 seconds shows how harmful u are to our community. but ppl fall for it. cuz tehyre hungry ot throw lesbians and transfems and bi women under the bus 24/7 by being so uncomfortable wiht acknoweldging any privilege they may have they fight tooth and fucking claw to identify out of it by saying first 'well the victims have privilege over me!! look at this thing i made up by misunderstanding my experiences are not unique!!'. do u think anyone will take u seriusoly in any debate forum like the moment a transfem comments on ur posts u crumple itno insisting fucking idk I can say the special slur still tho right? right? or just pull out the fucking All women are bitches who nevwr understand True Male Suffering adn somehow thats their fault too!!! just like ur cis counterparts. its embarrassing when tehy do it but its even more embarrassing when u do it ebcause u pretend ur knowing better when ur NOT. so yeah whatever comemnt a wholeessay on my post about fucking who knows what the hell yorue even saying your little word salad of whatever to basically boil it down to 'if a woman ever says no to a man she deserves to be shot'. pick out the pronoun taht makes it look most like im a Girl too so yiu dont have to pretend i might also be affected by this Transandrophobia yorue trying to claim so hard exists. reblog it to the dream smp sideblog who eveen gives a shit. at the end ofthe day are u happy w urself? do u look in the mirror at night and go yeah! i did good today!. are u even kind of thinking abtou the randomly generated syllables yr mashing togehter to divorce yoruself from any privilege and harm you cause to everyone around you? or is asking tht some kind of hatecrime too?

[blookmallow]

tell me about pokemon that are special to you or you have a grudge against for really specific reasons

mine that i can think of right now

- theres one munchlax in pokemon xd that’s owned by an npc and keeps showing up and faking you out with “oh theres my munchlax” so you could never actually catch it. i wanted it so bad. i didnt have any other games at the time so i couldnt have one. i have several in various games now but every munchlax is precious to me i will never take a munchlax for granted, ever. a munchlax is a blessing and a privilege and should be respected

- my first ever pokemon card was a rattata some kid gave me in kindergarten and i still have it and i still feel nostalgic whenever i see a rattata

- i had an ursaring named DEATH in pokemon xd who could kill most things in one hit. it was my first ever pokemon to reach level 100. my killing move was “return” which increases in power depending on how friendly your pokemon is toward you. my big killer bear was destroying everyone with the power of its love for me and i loved it so much too. i dont even know how it became the favorite. i dont even like ursaring that much. ill never forget you DEATH

- i didnt know you only get one masterball ever and just used it on a random sableye and went through a brief phase of grudge against sableye for that but i got over it bc sableye is cool

- i dont remember which game it was but i was absolutely plagued by bidoofs interrupting me every three seconds in one of them and i absolutely fucking hated bidoof so much for it for Years until arceus made me realize they’re pretty cute actually

- i hate pinsir i hated it when i was a kid and i still hate it now i dont have a reason i just hate it fuck you pinsir

- i also hate magmar so much and i seem to attract magmar cards into my life no matter how many i get rid of. i swear they multiply when im not looking. i hate magmar’s stupid face and i have the worst case of mandela effect about it bc i would have bet you money it was gen 2 or later but its not. its an original gen 1. it always has been. i swear to FUCK it wasnt. but it was

[ja3yun]

i have been following you since tstab (still my fave bcecause of that club scene lol) and i have to say you give far too much to people who take it for granted.

when it was tstab, people wanted the alt heeseung scene and you gave them it, then there was the wedding bonus. and then the one shots also, people demanded second parts to stories that you left beautifully finished yet you made more chapters or turned them into series (thank you for these by the way i am not complaining) but people just read it and left like not even thank yous?

and now with tdh you have given us a four part series and people asked for an epilogue which you turned around in about a week plus drabbles, and now people are asking for an alt scene which you're so nice for even considering that because you've written such a perfect story that isn't cliché or obvious with this ending and your drabbles just show that you made the perfect choice.

i guess what i'm saying is, you already do so much for people on tmblr when they don't deserve it. your talent is far beyond most peoples and your kindness too, i hate to see you taken advantage of. you always say you write what you love and trust me it shows so well in your stories so i'm begging more people to thank you for everything that you do for *free* btw

you are my favorite author and i love you and your works so much, watching you find your style and tone has been a privilege

hi! so ilysm and thank you for being here from literally the start!

i know what you mean, i do have this terrible habit of caving in and writing what people want me too 😮‍💨 but what i will say on the flip of that is i only write what i think i'm capable of, no matter if people want it or not yknow?

i think people are grateful but the just don't say it which sometimes is a bit eh but it comes with the territory of being a fanfic writer! you're gonna have people who love it silently or don't give feedback even if they did ask for a part two

i love everyone and i have been super lucky that i get lots of love back so i never feel taken advantage of! i am so thankful that you care and i cannot send enough love your way for it

people understand when i dont want to write smthn and if i end up not writing this alt ending, i imagine everyone will be chill with it. ateotd i cant write what i dont love so you never have to worry about me anonnie!!

ilysm and thank you for being here with me and showing me this love, it means sm to me

[kogameh]

it took two weeks but i guess im back to work and finally snapped out of my bulimic state so 🫠🎉

uh lesson of the day dont take the privilege of being able to eat your fav foods for granted folks. bc that was painful. i really mean it lol

[spacelazarwolf]

I still dont quite understand the idea of trans men not having male privilege? you can be oppressed for being trans and still be a Guy. im just confused bc , at least In My Personal Experience, ive been treated better since I transitioned, and I dont see how one cancels out the other

sorry if this is rambly or disrespectful at all, im just Confused

i think it's important to differentiate privilege from conditional safety. privilege is something that cannot be revoked (or can only be revoked under certain extreme or specific circumstances, like an able bodied person becoming disabled), something most people don't even realize they have until they examine themselves. conditional safety is something you are painfully aware of and try very hard to maintain, because it is something that can be revoked. it's also something that still doesn't grant you all the benefits of privilege.

both privilege and conditional safety are things that should be acknowledged by those who have it because there are many people who don't have either, but the lived realities of someone with privilege and the lived realities of someone with conditional safety are going to be extremely different.

a non trans example:

a white person, a white jewish person, a black person, and a white supremacist are working in the same office. the lived realities of the first three people will probably look something like this

white person: objects to the presence of the white supremacist but can choose whether or not to engage with them and doesn't fear for their safety.

white jewish person: cannot choose whether or not to engage with the white supremacist because their safety is at risk. will likely have to actively hide the fact they're jewish or risk potential violence (this happened to a white jewish friend of mine. she was working in a lab, someone else working there was a white supremacist, and when he found out she was jewish he started stalking her and sending her death threats and eventually came to her home and she had to move).

black person: is immediately unsafe and at risk of potential violence.

is the white jewish person objectively safer than the black person because they're able to hide their jewishness while the black person can't hide their blackness? absolutely.

is the white person objectively safer than the white jewish person because they don't have to deal with the psychological toll of being in hiding and constantly fearing violence? absolutely.

two other issues i have with the "do trans men have male privilege" discussion are that 1. that assumes that every trans man is passing, can pass, or wants to pass, and 2. it lacks intersectionality. when i was looking up examples of male privilege for my post, almost all of them were entirely based in able bodied cishetallo white manhood. one example often given is "men make more than women", but that doesn't take into account the fact that black men only make marginally more than white women while facing more job discrimination and economic disparity. examples that rely on sexuality or sex assigned at birth don't take into account queer and trans men. examples about respect at work don't take into account race or disability.

and the fact is, these things cannot be taken apart and looked at through one lens at a time, because black men have to exist as black and as men at the same time. disabled men have to exist as disabled and men at the same time. trans men have to exist as trans and men at the same time. queer men have to exist as queer and men at the same time. in a world where the ideal man is an abled cishetallo white man, men who are not that do not have the luxury of compartmentalizing.

in conclusion, can some trans men achieve conditional safety by passing and going stealth? absolutely. in this current climate where true male privilege is really only granted to able bodied cishetallo white men, can trans men achieve male privilege? imo, no.

[v-arbellanaris]

FAQ

about

vee, xhe/xer, 30. i don’t have twitter. i write, i read, i enable. big fan of villains, especially when they’re killing people and doing awful things. the more atrocities, the better.

before you ask a question...

I have a personal question about you that isn’t listed in your about

everything you need to know about me

Haha, very funny, no but seriously, I wanna know–

i don’t owe the internet any personal information about myself. you are not entitled to any piece of me that i don’t choose to share.

How can you like/dislike [fictional character]?!

they’re fictional

But THAT CHARACTER is evil and awful! Look at all the awful things they’ve done! Does this mean you condone their actions? / But THAT CHARACTER is so good! Look at all the amazing and morally upstanding things they’ve done! How can you not like them? / It’s hypocritical to like THAT character but hate THIS one because–

tbh all of this sounds like a you problem so good luck with that

Why do you have anon off?

because i can turn it off. the option to send me asks on anon is a privilege that i don’t always want to grant, especially when people take advantage of anonymity and use it to be abusive, invasive and entitled. 

When are you going to respond to my prompt? When are you going to update [x] fic?

my posting schedule 

I didn’t unfollow you but I’m not following you anymore. Did you softblock me?

nope. my blog was terminated briefly on 16 dec 2022 for having a vpn on while browsing on pc (don’t do that, apparently), which has messed with my follower count a bit. i don’t usually bother with softblocking these days, so feel free to follow me again if you want to!

tags of interest/writing

my da meta

other people’s da meta living in my head rent free 

wip wednesday

vee rewrites da (meta/references/info/worldbuilding work/character work i plan to incorporate into my personal canon)

byf

this is a fandom blog primarily, so real life politics may seep in occasionally but i don’t do my activism on tumblr.

if you’re checking this bc you’re worried i won’t wanna interact bc you like certain characters that i am critical of, this is my reassurance that i don’t really care unless you’re gonna be an asshole abt the characters i like.

this blog is also fairly bioware critical and anti chantry – it doesn’t necessarily mean i hate the series, or even that i hate specific characters, but i do engage w the content critically (and it’s all tagged with “#[character] critical”, “bioware critical” and “anti chantry” specifically), but if that doesn’t float your boat, feel free to skip this blog.

i WILL block for clowning on my posts. i also block because i hate the way you interpret canon or my favourite characters – and if you feel that way about me, i encourage you to do the same instead of wasting both of our times with anon. i use the block button liberally and generously and so should you <3

other info

minors interact at your own discretion. smts i forget to tag 18+ content

if ya need anythin tagged that i dont already just lmk – unless it’s the word queer. 

credits

mobile header and sidebar art is emerald graves concept art by matt rhodes for dragon age: inquisition.

icon is fanart birthday gift of my warden kalyani tabris by @/demandthedoodles.

[caffeineandsociety]

The thing is, to a transphobe, you're whatever gender is convenient to mistreat you at the moment, and a huge part of the reason it looks different based on gender is because so much of their disgust is based on false ideas about the human body - bioessentialism.

On the surface level, this means misgendering, both overtly and otherwise. The most visible stereotype of a trans woman is a big, hairy, musky, muscular, big-browed MAN in the tackiest dress you've ever seen, and the most visible stereotype of a trans man is a dainty, weak, sheltered GIRL with a blue pixie cut begging doctors to MUTILATE HER just to BE TRENDY. Because, to a transphobe, you cannot escape your ~true biological nature~; your sex CANNOT be changed, it can only be disguised.

Or can it? This starts to flip around when someone goes on hormones. Estrogen makes you weak and stupid, and testosterone makes you violent and predatory - again, more bioessentialism. Not that they're not going to continue to invoke the previous stereotypes when it's more convenient, of course.

And, there's one other brand of abuse where transphobes will actually...sort of gender a trans person correctly - I like to call them "Lucy's football standards". What do they look like?

"Well, if you're REALLY a woman, sit down and be quiet, no one will EVER take you seriously if you keep throwing your MASSIVE weight around and demanding so AGGRESSIVELY to be treated like a HUMAN, sit down and be quiet and take whatever abuse comes your way like a good girl should! You dont have a 12-step skincare routine!? Are you even TRYING!? Why don't you order the salad, sweetie, that's what girls SHOULD do, you don't want to look like a glutton let alone get fat! Car trouble? Are you suuuure you know what you're talking about? Girls shouldn't know that! Why do you do physical labor? Wouldn't you rather have a nice, soft job suited for the weak, dainty little flower you claim you are on the inside?"

"Well, if you're going to be a man, then it's your responsibility to be a protector! No complaining! Come on, get out there, get in the line of fire, that's your job! Remember, look fashionable while you do it, but not TOO fashionable, Real Men don't wear nail polish or bright colors or skinny jeans! Remember to have realistic expectations of how your transition will go, but also if you like the idea of being small and twinkish you're obviously just a trender - hit the gym if you're a Real Man! Now remember, man up, no complaining, you don't get the protection of 'don't hit girls' anymore - no we're not going to talk about how fucked up it is that 'don't use physical violence as a tool of control' is gendered, not at YOUR request, you're OBVIOUSLY just trying to have your cake and eat it too! Now go forth, my human shield, and don't forget to acknowledge the wonderful world of privilege you're entering~!"

It's a demand for an IMPOSSIBLY strict level of gender conformity...because the transphobe knows it's an impossible standard, especially since it's always paired with moving goalposts. It's saying "well, sure, I'll play along with your little game, but I absolutely see it as just some childish LARP thing and I just might stop playing along at any time if you don't play it well enough or I just get bored," or "sure, I'll be happy to grant you basic human rights - here, Charlie Brown, just kick the football, you can do it, I promise I'll really truly hold it for you this time~!"

But these are all broad categories. In practice, they overlap, especially when nonbinary and intersex people are brought into the mix, and/or when someone's birth designated sex is unknown. Is it contradictory? Yes! All the time! Because it's not a worldview created by logic and trying to understand others to make the world better; it's a reactionary position born of pasting together mismatched scraps of old bigotries, outdated science and pseudoscience, and logical fallacies to justify that someone's visceral disgust at the concept of transness has NOTHING to do with internalizing some fucked up stereotypes about how gender works in a "post-bigotry, equality-valuing" society let alone just being a giant controlling asshole, and EVERYTHING to do with how BEING TRANS WILL RUIN THE WORLD DEFINITELY FOR REAL WE SWEAR!!1!1

So it becomes a problem when people either fail to acknowledge the nature of these conflicting stereotypes and standards...or when they think they can figure out hard and fast rules for when a transphobe will apply any of them. The reason there are so many, and they're so contradictory, is to keep the worldview artificially airtight. Trans men will be held to transmisogynistic standards, sometimes because they're GNC and being presumed to be AMAB, but sometimes because it's just more convenient to use the bathroom predator line against him. Trans women will be held to transandrophobic standards, again sometimes because they've been mistaken for transitioning the other direction, but also sometimes because calling her a tragic baby who doesn't know what's good for her suits the transphobe's agenda better in the moment. A major aspect of exorsexism and transmultiphobia is rage at not knowing which of these standards to apply, so the transphobe just flies into a berserk state and starts spitting out all of them, glued together with repackaged biphobic "pick a side" garbage. There are no sharp lines in the sand, only complex and messy probability functions.

But, when given the information and opportunity to do so, transphobes will very often want to fall back on bioessentialism, because that's where they feel they can use (deliberately oversimplified 4th grade) "science" to back them up - even when it comes to grifters who outright know better and are using it just to make them sound smart. Arguably, especially then.

The purpose of recognizing this is to fight transphobes, NOT random other trans people seeking to define their own experiences, btw.

[lampshading3]

tár 3/3/23

my rating: 7.5/10

i love movies that want you to live with the character, with things happening that dont seem relevant at all but they are bc they at the v least showcase the character being characterized. i feel like a lot of movies pumped out right now want you to live with the memory of x cool fight scene or y funny joke but i really love watching a character be a human being even if theyre terrible at it. and lydia is terrible at it, she may be a decently well regarded composer but shes not a friendly person to ppl she doesnt see as equal to her or who she cant woo into her fanclub. she takes for granted the privilege of an extremely rewarding career and a loving wife and child and a devoted assistant, to the point of near awe inspiring power, until she uses it to needlessly severly harm people who "wronged" her and she loses all those privileges in the aftermath.

i am working on regaining my attention span and patience for longish monologues, and this movie had a few where i ended up spacing out a bit but thats more my fault than anyone working on this movie. i will say tho, as someone with no training or understanding of anything near composing an orchestra, if you can utilize some context clues it isnt difficult to grasp the message past the language.

towards the ending was probably where the movie lost me the most, but this is likely bc its a 3hr movie and i should probably take breaks next time. my biggest issue was just that sometimes i couldnt tell one blonde woman from another and this is also when things changed rapidly. it wasnt hard to follow the plot but i did miss some things that i later realized when sniffing around other ppls responses and critiques of this movie. again, not the movies fault but this is half diary anyways so.

i think cate blanchett was incredible as lydia tár and none of it wouldve worked without her, and the entire cast was amazing in general. and the fact they cast the dresden philharmonic and cate blanchett learned to conduct for this? insane lvls of care were put into this and this awards season overall has been pretty fun to witness with the love creatives are putting into their work.

tár added an interesting element to an interesting topic and ive loved engaging with the movie, but this will not be on my rewatch list for any time soon

[lithominium]

Im speaking from a privileged position here so feel free to roast me into oblivion because “people have it worse” which i know and it makes me feel bad that I’m taking it for granted anyways

But yeah I’m kinda sick of Christmas because as ive gotten older my tastes are more expensive so any gifts i get are just meh and my parents are like “do you want one big gift or many small gifts you have a budget of 300 dollars and btw we make 130 an hour” so I’m just kinda like “i could just spend money on myself instead” its such a stupid thing to have looming over my head at all times but yet its still there. Do i want them to spend 300 dollars towards a poly d? Or do i want 300 dollars towards a taylor gs mini mahogany. Do i want them to spend 300 dollars towards stuff that ill forget about in 2 weeks and it wont matter in the first place. I dont know and im tired of it. I wish I didn’t have a budget for christmas at all and i didnt have to celebrate and i could just go about my life as it was before christmas time.

[v3nusxsky]

What are some examples of platonic bdsm punishments?

Oooo okay so massive confession here, in the platonic bdsm I’m completely submissive so all my answers come from a submission point of view,

So for me punishments I had when I did have a domme (insert pout for not having one rn)

(For my online folks) not being able to call and hear their voice until I’d Done whatever task I needed the longer I dragged out my tasks the more I missed them

Taking away a treat of some sort (kinda like as kid Yano we all got the you cant have dessert if you dont eat all your dinner or something like that?)

Maybe losing some time doing an activity together (not too much but just enough to make the sub miss their dom and be told something along the lines of “if you did your tasks *pet name* then you could be doing this with me rn but you didn’t so you have to go do your tasks now then we can talk about you joining in.

This is more of a do not do, don’t take away affection, platonic affection can be so soothing so don’t take away hugs as a form of punishment

Maybe take away something that would be considered a privilege that they don’t need to survive but have bc they want it. I.e coffee (getting my soda taken away drives me mad)

Another do not do, should the submissive have a comfort item eg teddy bear or something don’t take that away as a punishment, it’s a self soothing mechanism

Agree together on anything you decide is a punishment and just how fair your willing to go and what would grant such a punishment, make sure your both comfortable and as long as you both agree anything within reason could be used to be a punishment, such as dom going out alone to leave sub to stew on why they haven’t done tasks or whatever they were meant to (reflection time)