#he’s being blackmailed and bring held against his will! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

loveharlow · 7 months

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COMPANY POLICY

PAIRING‧₊˚ Rafe Cameron x Fem!Reader

SYNOPSIS‧₊˚ [2.7k] Caught red handed stealing from Cameron Development, Rafe Cameron's assistant finds herself in a sticky situation...

WARNING(S)‧₊˚ non-con/dub-con, smut, swearing, power play, blackmail, slight dom/sub dynamics, unprotected rough sex, allusions to pregnancy, cheating (?)

A/N‧₊˚ part of my angstober event!

˗ˏˋ rafe masterlist ˎˊ˗

YOU HELD YOUR ARMS CLOSE TO YOU AS YOU WALKED THE PATH UP TO THE COMPANY BUILDING — Cameron Development. It was midnight on the dot and the night air was chilly. Normally, you’d be in bed by this time, tired and exhausted after running errands for Rafe Cameron all day long with little to sometimes no break. Being his assistant wasn’t exactly anyone’s dream job, but it kept your lights on.

For some reason, the man had called you into the office, saying there was an issue that was urgent and had to be handled immediately. He had an edge to his voice, one that should've been your first warning to not walk into that building.

As you skipped up the steps to the building, still hugging yourself, you pushed the door open and followed the only light that was on down the hall. His office door was cracked and you could hear him mumbling to himself. Reaching the semi-open door, you pushed it open, the wood creaking as you did so.

“Mr. Cameron?” You called quietly, spotting his tall frame hovering over his desk — palms planted firmly on the wood and hair ruffled as his eyes ran wild over the small pile of papers on the desk. Your voice broke him out of his muttering daze as his eyes slowly rose to meet yours. His movements were slow and calm, his wild eyes meeting yours.

His movements were slow and calm, until they weren’t. Within seconds, he’d crumpled up the papers in his hands and rounded his deck to tower in front of you and grab your upper arm, bringing you impossibly closer. You could see him a lot more clearly now — he was visibly strung out and angry.

You gasped at the rough contact, immediately trying to tug your arm away which only prompted the irate man to tug you closer.

“What’re you-”

“How much?” He huffed out, infuriated. His jaw was clenched tightly.

You were sure you looked lost and confused, more scared than anything. Rafe had a knack for treating his employees like shit and you were no exception to his rage now, it seemed. But you’d never been at the receiving end of his abuse until this moment. It was frightening, to put it mildly.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about-”

“How much fucking money did you steal from me?” He gritted through his teeth. You stuttered to find the right words and he took that as a sign to continue berating you. He released his grip on you to uncrumple to documents he was holding, using one hand to push you against the wall behind you as the other practically shoved the printed matter in your face. “Five-hundred and twenty-six thousand...” He started, voice rising with each word. “Five-hundred and twenty-six THOUSAND dollars. That’s how much money has been withdrawn from my company and deposited into shell companies — companies that do not fucking exist!”

You looked away from him this time. You honestly didn’t think he’d find out. Or at least find out that it was you. Five-hundred thousand was pocket change compared to what he was bringing in yearly and Rafe was careless, so you didn't think he'd notice and if he did, you assumed you'd be able to lie on the spot. Clearly, you'd misjudged both him and yourself.

He’d put you in charge of the books when it became too much paperwork for him one day and you just happened to realize that your paycheck could’ve been much higher than what it was but you knew he’d never give you a raise. You’d worked with him for almost 2 years and had never even seen the chance of a promotion. Who was Rafe Cameron to acknowledge his employees or their efforts?

It wasn't like you'd taken it all at once. It was over the last couple months that you'd misplaced the funds into shell companies and collected it at later dates for your own personal gain.

“Suddenly she’s quiet.” He taunted, throwing the papers to the floor. “Look at me,” He demanded, but you refused. He took that as a sign to grab, more like yank, your chin in his direction. “Where’s my money?”

“It’s gone, most of its gone…” You muttered with tearful eyes, speech slurred due to how he had your cheeks pressed together. You weren't lying. You'd spoiled yourself with the money. Shopping, grocery runs, furniture...

“I trusted you. You think I’d let any of those lousy, dumbasses touch my assets? No. But clearly…clearly I made a lapse in judgment with you.” He reprimanded. “You’re a damn thief.” He spat as he let go of your face, so harshly it prompted some of your hair to obstruct your field of vision.

Your heart was racing like crazy. Your hands had been clawing at the wall he had you pinned to, eyes following his pacing frame. “I can pay it back. I’ll pay it all back-”

“Oh, I know you will.” He scoffed darkly. “But clearly, your word can’t be taken for it so, I’m going to need… collateral.” Rafe sounded much less angry now. But his tone was still clouded with an air of darkness that made the hairs of the back of your neck stand up. Suddenly, he was in front of you again, brushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear — a much softer touch compared to the previous ones.

“Take your shirt off.”

You were dumbstruck, mouth falling open at his demand.

Surely, he couldn’t be serious.

“Mr. Cameron-” You tried.

“Sir.” He corrected.

“...Sir,” You repeated, taking the hint. “I have a husband. Not to mention, you’re my boss. I’m sure there’s another way-”

“There might be...” He cut you off, the knuckle of his index finger trailing down the length of your neck as he licked his lips before speaking again. “Unfortunately for you, I want to do it my way.” He rasped. “So, take your shirt off.”

This was wrong. On so many levels was this wrong. He was your boss — your sick, deranged boss. You may be a thief but this was ludicrous. Was the terror in your eyes not enough assurance for him?

You gulped as you looked into his eyes, letting a few beats pass before moving your shaking hands to the hem of your shirt, pulling the fabric over your head and hesitating to let it drop to the hardwood floors of his office.

Rafe eyed the valley of your breasts that was revealed by your bra, a small smirk forming on his features at the sight. When one of his hands came up to cup one of them through the material, you couldn’t help but cringe slightly at the touch — it was foreign and it felt so… dirty. You wanted to just say fuck it and dash out of his office — shirtless and all. But you knew that would only cause more trouble — he’d ruin your credibility and career, destroy your marriage, and God knows what else.

So when the man used the hand that had been trailing your neck to untie your sweatpants, you stood as still as a statue and let him. The loose apparel falling easily to the ground, pooling around your ankles, leaving you half naked in front of your superior.

“I never took you for the criminal type, y’know…” He whispered into your ear. “I always thought you were so obedient. The things I thought about doing to you whenever you nod when I give you an order, watching you rush around the office in your skirts just to get whatever I need done finished…I never thought watching you do whatever I say would be so fun.” He cooed and you couldn’t help but feel trapped at this moment.

Just how long had Rafe been pining over you? You suddenly wondered if this was really collateral or just a way of getting something he’d always wanted.

Was it both?

The thought ran around in your mind as he roamed the length of your body — calloused hands outlining the curve of your ass, palm trailing over your clothed core. You didn’t even fully register when his thick fingers pushed the fabric of your panties to the side, one digit gathering the wetness that had gathered before being quickly pushed inside. You whimpered lowly at the intrusion, instinctively closing your legs but Rafe wouldn’t allow it, using his knee to hold your legs apart.

His lone finger poked and prodded at your g-spot, forcing light moans out of you that you tried your best to keep low. You hated the way your body responded to his touch — the faint squelching sound you could hear as he pumped his finger in and out of you. A lone tear rolled down your cheek, small whimpers escaping your lips before he harshly pulled his finger out of you and took a few steps back, allowing you to close your legs.

But the racing and thumping of your heart within your rib-cage didn’t stop there, tearful eyes watching as Rafe’s hands moved to his belt. The metal clanking against itself as he undid the object and abandoned it to the floor.

In one swift motion, his entire demeanor changed as he grabbed the hair on your head that he could reach, practically ripping you off of the wall that you were clinging to. You yelped as the man did so, using your tresses as a makeshift leash, pulling your body towards his desk as you struggled not to trip over your pants that were still wound around your ankles. Using his deadly grip, he shoved your face into the wooden surface, swiping papers and office supplies out of his way.

You hissed the contact, a small ache blooming on your cheek as your own hands were planted on the wood as well in awkward position due to how he had you pinned down.

The hand in your hair never left your body as it trailed down to pin you against the slab by the back of your neck instead. Your body jerked as he used his free hand to force your panties down your legs, leaving the material wound around the middle of your thighs.

You don’t even know when he found the time to pull down his own pants during his manhandling, only starting to internally panic, realizing the weight of what was happening when you felt the warmth of his tip rub against your sex. You tried to wiggle out of his grip, causing yourself more pain the more you moved.

You pleaded with him through labored sobs as your fingers clawed at his work space, leaving faint white marks in your wake. You didn’t even know what you were saying — a string of useless pleas falling on deaf ears.

Your fighting only came to an abrupt stop when you felt his dick push past your entrance, biting down on your lip as a small pinching feeling radiated from in between your legs at the unwelcome intrusion. You felt every ridge and vein as he took his time settling within you. The man behind you let out a gruff groan while the hand he’d used to guide himself inside of you moved to capture your waist, pulling you further onto him.

When he pulled his hips back only to slam back into you, you couldn’t contain the watery scream you let out. It felt like he’d punched you in the throat, fucking into you as if you weren’t a living thing. You could feel each and every time the tip of his cock would hit your cervix, the desk beneath you bruising your abdomen with each forward thrust that slammed you against the wooden fixture.

"Please! I can't-"

"Shut up." He immediately cut off your protests, voice curt and nasty. "I don't wanna hear you speak."

Nothing about his movements were pleasurable. His grip on your waist had grown tighter, so tight that his short nails were digging into your skin, feeling like miniature knives against your side. The hand on your neck followed, squeezing the nape of it until you were gasping for air between each cry and shriek.

The sound of his skin slapping against yours, the feeling of his pelvis meeting the curvature of your ass with each thrust made your chest feel tight. You hated the way you could feel yourself clenching around him, a familiar sensation building in your lower half.

Before you could even attempt to stop yourself, your hands were curling into tight fists as you came around him with a pitiful cry. But Rafe wasn’t done just yet, and you laid under him as he continued pounding into you at a borderline animalistic pace. The desk screeching against the floorboards after a particularly, brutal jolt. You were quickly becoming sensitive, the friction causing your clit to ache as a tingling sensation spreading throughout your body.

It was only a few moments before he rammed into you for the final time, his hips stilling as they pressed against your backside, the feeling of him spilling into you almost making you sick. He didn’t bother being quiet as he held you flush against him, making sure to empty himself completely with a few soft pumps into you afterwards, pulling out with not an ounce of care, eliciting a wince from you as he did so.

He roughly released both holds he’d had on you, not saying a word.

You could hear the rustling of fabric and his heavy breaths behind you as you gathered yourself mentally. You didn’t move, not an inch until you heard his voice again.

“Get up.” You sniffed. Not wanting to irritate the man any further, you used your arms to push yourself up to stand straight on shaky legs. You didn’t turn around as you carefully bent over and pulled your pants up, trying you hardest to ignore what you felt running down the inside of your thighs or the way the fabric of your underwear felt against your swollen clit.

All hopes of not having to look at the man who’d violated you were shattered as he rounded his desk to sit in front of you, planting himself in the chair as he opened the laptop that he was lucky hadn’t been thrown from the desk in the harsh turn of events.

You stood in front of him with your head down. You didn’t bother to wipe the tears from your face, fix your hair, or check for bruises that you were sure you had and would have to find some way to cover up. You just watched liked a punished child as he opened the device in front of him, typing and hyper focused on the screen. You wondered how he could be so unphased.

He was like that for a few passing moments until he’d seemingly gotten what he needed, pulling the USB drive from the side of the machine that you'd just noticed, leaning back in his chair as he fiddled with the small stick. His face was flushed red and his hair was all over the place.

“Do you know what this is?” He asked, out of breath but still managing to sound smug. You had an idea. But you hoped you were wrong. So, begrudgingly, you shook your head side to side. “It's our movie. I know it’s not the best angle because, well...” He motioned towards a corner of his office, prompting you to shift your sights in his line of sight, spotting a camera mounted in the corner, so small it was just barely visible but you knew from the placement it probably had a view of the entire space. Your heart dropped, slowly turning back to your boss to find him eyeing you with such a predatory gaze that it made you shudder.

“Don’t look so scared. No one else will see it, so long as you get my shit back.” He spat. “But I gotta admit,” He started, getting up from behind his desk and coming to stand next to you, his lips dangerously close to your ear. “Fucking you was much better than I ever imagined.”

His words had you choking back on your own saliva, swallowing harshly and refusing to look at him as you stared straight ahead with a disgusted snarl on your face. One of his hands swiped lightly across your torso as he left your personal space, opting to sit half-way perched on his desk. Fiddling and examining the memory stick like a prized possession before looking up at you with half-lidded eyes and an unsettling grin on his features before speaking.

“You can see yourself out.”

That was all you needed to hear before your feet were rushing you away from him, barely stopping to snatch your shirt up off of the floor before making a bee-line out of his office. You struggled to put your shirt on as you practically sprinted through the doors of the building so fast, you wouldn't be surprised if you had it on backwards, hot skin immediately bitten by the night air.

Your breathing never calmed as you rushed to your car, struggling to unlock the door, throwing yourself into the vehicle when you finally managed to. You sat there for a few seconds, staring ahead at the street and breathing like a mad woman before you lost all control — punching and slamming on your steering wheel, a long string of curses leaving your lips before you were bursting into tears, sleeve-covered hands coming up to cup your face as you cried into them.

You hated yourself and you hated Rafe. You had nowhere to go from here. Rafe's words made it clear that you wouldn't be quitting any time soon and what the hell were you going to do about your husband? Rafe had a full length tape of you, bent over his desk as he did what he pleased and no matter what you knew happened in that office, Rafe had Kildare in the palm of his hand.

It didn't take a genius to know that Rafe Cameron would bend that video to his very will. This whole thing made you look bad, a thief and a cheater.

Your hysterics didn’t last long when you realized that even though you were in your car, that man was still just feet away. You’d still have to see him the very next day and every day after that, but right now you just wanted to go home and you didn’t even know if you really wanted to do that — to climb into bed with your husband who had no idea what had just happened, knowing not only that your future was tainted but technically, so was his.

You didn’t waste any time in starting your car, nearly whipping into the curb at the speed at which you pulled off. Watching streetlights and stores pass by.

It wasn’t until you passed the pharmacy, bright neon red sign lit up in the dark, that you felt your stomach drop.

You’d been off birth control for months now, wanting to try for a baby with your husband.

And in the middle of the night, you found yourself praying that a loss of dignity and aching legs were the only things Rafe Cameron just sent you home with.

General taglist; @livlaughquinn

JJ Maybank Taglist; @ronnieissupermegafoxyawesomehot @maybankslover

Event Taglist; @timmytime17

feedback is appreciated! thanks for reading.

©loveharlow

#angstober23'#rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron smut #obx rafe #rafe angst #rafe cameron x reader #drew starkey fanfiction #drew starkey #dark!rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x fem!reader #rafe cameron x female reader

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apollos-olives · 5 months

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hey, so, someone linked me this article, to "prove" to me that i should "condemn hamas". as a non-palestinian i was told there is no way i can refute this, since it comes from a gazan. i was wondering if, as a journalist and a palestinian, you would mind writing a rebuttal that i could show to people? if you have the time and energy.

https://www.newsweek.com/hamass-western-apologists-have-become-hamas-enthusiasts-gazan-im-horrified-opinion-1849228

okay sure let's go through this together

first thing i urge you is to be weary about propaganda. this person may be getting paid, blackmailed, or just genuinely might be brainwashed, in order to write this.

second is that this article might genuinely be this persons opinion 🤷‍♂️🤷‍♂️ and if it is, i urge you to come and analyze it with me in order to point out it's faults

third, let me say that NO ONE is forced to support hamas as an entirety. but as this person's article states, he is against hamas even as a freedom fighter group, so i'm gonna walk you through some of his bullshit okay :)

one thing i noticed is that there is a LOT of propaganda that was debunked in the past that is still being used in this article

the actual number of "civilians" killed was 900, most of which were actually killed by the iof as they shot at their own "civilians" and soliders. so the author of this article may not be as educated as he might make you think he is.

he's saying that the attack on oct 7 wasn't a "legitimate armed resistance to occupation" but it literally was. there are like a billion un resolutions that state that armed resistance against an occupier is allowed. hamas has every right to fight back against israel. and what? you think armed resistance isn't going to get messy??? of course it will. it is already messy. people are going to die no matter what. that is how you fight against your oppressor. people will die. that's the whole "armed resistance" part. this person is utterly ignorant if he thinks that we can free palestine by a few peaceful protests (which i will come back to soon!)

and yeah what is wrong with "contextualizing" the attack by telling people that gazans are living in a concentration camp?? because they are. and they have every right to fight back. hamas wasn't the only one who was resisting that day, and more than one palestinian resistance group were there as well. condemning only hamas for this shit is idiotic and honestly grouping ALL palestinians, even ones who were not part of hamas, as hamas is... well do i gotta say it? racist.

this author is using a lot of words like "horrific nature" ...... palestinians who fight against their oppressors have a "horrific nature" ???? doesn't that sound... racist to you? and what "numbers" are involved ???? 900 "civilians" that were killed by their own army???? yeah. what massive numbers that hamas killed ooohhhhhh 😰😰

bruhhh this shit sounds like the whole "hamas is their new fandom" bullshit 💀💀💀 also where is he seeing this stuff???? how are bulldozers, paragliders, and motorcycles showing support to hamas?????? maybe they're just people who support palestine in general and mean to use them as symbols of resistance. mocking the "underprivileged fight back" hmmmm that sure sounds so inclusive and supportive of you mister palestinian author!!

this guy brings up international law when LITERALLY THAT IS THE WHOLE POINT. BY INTERNATIONAL LAW HAMAS AND OTHER PALESTINIANS ARE ALLOWED TO FIGHT BACK AGAINST THEIR OPPRESSORS. BY "ALL MEANS NECESSARY" - ughhh this is exhausting. and the fact that they call hamas enthusiasts (💀) "inhumane" ... wowwww what happened to the whole "stop dehumanizing poc and the oppressed" ???? this guy is a fucking weirdo.

and again with the "civilians" dude seriously???? israeli civilians are illegal settlers. there are no innocent israelis except for the children, and any harm that may come to the children should put the parents to be held accountable for bringing/settling their child into a land that isn't theirs anyway.

why would you equate being jewish with israel?? yeah a lot of israelis are jewish but pro-palestine jews have repeatedly told us that we should not and must not equate judaism and israel together, and that doing that is antisemitic because it's equating judaism as a supporter of genocide.

and why are you, as a palestinian, calling what's happening in palestine a "conflict" ??? even after years and years of palestinians begging for people to stop seeing it and calling it a conflict and name it for what it is, systematic ethnic cleansing and genocide ?? this guy's wording is ridiculous and so full of that "both sides" liberalism shit it's so exhausting.

wow we love the blatant propaganda. you could tell that the hostages were comfortable enough to wave or handshake the members who released them. they were smiling, no one was forcing them to do that. no one was threatening them harm. many family members have spoken out and have told the media that hamas has treated the hostages well, even if the conditions weren't very glorious.

and AGAIN with the whole "women and children" as if men weren't victims too. you are trying to push for the safety of israelis but disregard the men ???? hm

wow calling palestinians terrorists that's totally not racist at all!!!!

ohhh my god how many times do we have to say that peaceful protests DO NOT WORK !!! no one is listening to us. we've TRIED peacefully protesting. gazans tried peacefully protesting a few years back and HUNDREDS got killed and THOUSANDS got injured!!!! peaceful protesting isn't going to work alone. we need action!! we need to start fighting back!!! we need to make a difference!! palestinians have been begging for people to do this for years now!!!

what "slogans" ????? "from the river to the sea" ???? is that a dangerous slogan, mister palestinian author ?????? don't make me laugh.

and there is a FINE line between anti zionism and antisemitism. yes a lot of zionists are jews but also a lot of christian zionists are antisemites as well. we are allowed to call out and fight anti zionism without being antisemitic. but i guess you would know SO much about that huh, mister palestinian author.

wow what a totally normal thing to say!!! linking palestinians to their constant suffering under the occupation and linking them to be forever tied to their oppressors. "millions of jews will forever be part of the land" YES !!! PALESTINIAN JEWS !!! WHO WERE FOREVER PART OF THE LAND !!!!

ok that's all for the screenshots but i DO want to mention that not once did this guy say ANYTHING about how hamas was bad for gaza. he did not say anything or show any proof about gazans suffering under hamas' rule, and only talked about the "poor israelis" ☹️☹️☹️ who were huwt becawse they wewe illegal settlews on a land that's not theiw's :((((((

this guy was probably paid or blackmailed or something. or just brainwashed.

many palestinians ARE anti hamas as a whole. but we DO support their fight for our freedom.

i hope this helps. keep these arguments in mind next time you're reading an article.

#i would've made this longer and more concise but i wrote this in between my finals so i'm tired lol #palestine #free palestine #this was fun though. i like analyzing bullshit and then laughing about it with you all

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thedevilspearl · 10 months

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author’s note ʚɞ i’m testing the waters with this one so please be kind about it. please also excuse the pet name sugar tits, i think it’s hot don’t judge me >_<

tags ʚɞ 5.6k words, dark content, mammon x female reader, bully!mammon, dubcon (forced consent), non–consensual photo taking, semi–public sex, (public) groping, blowjob, degradation, name calling, praise, pet names, humiliation kink, breeding kink, dacryphillia. minors do not interact!

ʏᴏᴜ’ᴠᴇ ʜᴀᴅ ɪᴛ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴍᴀᴍᴍᴏɴ and his antics. it’s beyond ridiculous at this point. never did you imagine becoming his target but when you think about it long enough, you realise your whole existence in the devildom was set up to be a laughing stock from the beginning.

back when you had just arrived, he acted as your tour guide but then forced you to cover his dinner duties at home. he helped you with your homework since you were new to the subjects but demanded you pay him back with all of your saved grimm. he even lent you some of his friends to help curb your homesickness only to have them report back every little detail so he could blackmail you later on.

and those kind of things happen when he’s being nice; unfortunately for you, mammon is very rarely nice. not a day goes by where he doesn’t find a way to make your life hell.

mammon, the avatar of greed, the second eldest of the powerful demon brothers, and as he likes to call himself, your first man, rarely shows kindness towards you unless he can gain something from it.

even if he gets nothing in return, he will go out of his way. from tripping you up in hallways to stealing your possessions, and forcing you to complete his homework to treating you like his lackey. anything and everything he does is in some way or another intended to bring you misery.

you’ve grown accustomed to being pushed around and laughed at for the sake of some demon’s entertainment, but there’s something else you’ve also grown used to.

the fact is, mammon gives you more attention than he gives anyone, even himself. and it’s a delusional way to think but it helps you cope with your sorrowful life in the devildom.

you’ve considered confiding in someone; surely the bullying would cease if diavolo found out mammon was harming the student exchange programme like this. but at the end of the day, mammon held more power over you than diavolo himself.

each and every decision you make, reluctantly or otherwise, gives him more power as the days go by. because you have no other choice but to go along with it; and if you don’t want to, he’ll simply blackmail you.

a while ago, you became incredibly close to knocking on lucifer’s door and confessing everything after mammon snapped pictures of you showering and threatened to post them if you didn’t do what he said. lamentably, you gave up on the effort.

if lucifer found out, he would have punished mammon. and after that, you have no doubt mammon would come after you with those big threats again. and you’ve never been in a position strong enough to fight back against him.

the pathetic little human, the bane of his life. yet, he can’t seem to stay away from you. demons are inherently evil creatures, that is a known fact. but after coming to the devildom, you learned demons are, in fact, not all monster.

they have bodies that look human and thoughts and feelings which may be questionable at time but still similar enough to the people in your own world to make you think wait a minute, they’re not all bad.

but that was before mammon revealed his irrational hatred for you. it has nothing to do with him hating humans or those weaker than him and everything to do with his dark, twisted infatuation with you. he’s the definition of cruel and demonic and you feel his animosity deep in your bones, now more than ever.

you don’t know how he did it, but staring at an empty locker where your rad uniform should be sitting boils your blood.

filled with fury, you storm out of the changing rooms in search of the demon.

mammon had already shrunk your sports kit by turning up the temperature when they were getting washed so your usually loose–fitting shorts cling to your thighs and butt. and after getting caught in the rain five minutes ago, you rushed inside to change your sodden white shirt.

but you were foolish to think things would go your way and now you’re storming through rad’s hallways with shorts riding up your ass and your bra fully visible under the wet shirt clinging to you. you’re overflowing with so much rage that you don’t care about the demons eyeing you in the tight clothes or licking their lips as you rush past them.

you spot your nemesis at the end of the hallway and for a moment, your heart stops beating. inhaling deeply, you build the courage to storm up to the white–haired demon.

he’s surrounded by his cronies, laughing at some sleazy joke that came out of his mouth and he refuses to look at you despite you standing in front of him. you know he knows you’re there. but in mammon fashion, he publicly humiliates you once again by completely ignoring you.

meanwhile, a small crowd of hungry demons gathers around you and your heart patters, shying under their interested eyes. but now is not a time to show weakness. now is the time to finally put mammon in his place, which is rather ironic since his place is among the strongest beings in all three realms and you are but a measly human.

“hey!” you shout and he rolls his eyes before finally turning to look at you.

just the sight of him infuriates you, but you’re not sure if the heat growing in your core is rooted from fury or from the way his eyes rake up and down your body. he blue orbs fall to your feet and slowly rise, taking in every detail of your frame.

little do you know, the shape of your body has him salivating. his eyes linger at your thighs, so thick and plush; your hips, so curvaceous and delicious; your tits, so tempting with your perky nipples poking through and your lacey bra visible under the wet shirt.

the tip of his tongue runs under his fangs before wetting his lips as they inch up one side of his face. as attractive as his smirk is, you want to slap it right off his face.

“what’s up, sugar tits?” he quirks his brows, nodding his head to notion the attention he has for the state of your chest, hence the nickname.

you follow his gaze downwards, fully grasping how much of your breasts were on display. you gasp, covering them but it does nothing to hide your entire ass also being showcased.

damn, mammon thinks. you might as well not be wearing any underwear with how tightly your shorts are pressed against your pussy. he can see everything.

“i knew ya were a desperate little thing,” mammon taunts. “but i didn’t think you’d be so dumb to come beg for me in front of everyone.”

“i didn’t come to beg!” you yell, cowering as the crowd fills with laughs and jeers.

“then what did ya come for?” mammon rolls his eyes.

“i came here to…”

“….to what?” mammon steps closer. his scent is intoxicating as it surrounds you. “ya came here to yell at me, the great mammon?”

“n-no….” you mutter, suddenly afraid of his close proximity. with ever step forward he makes, you take one back which ends with your back against the wall and his big frame caging you against it.

he creates a little cave between your bodies that holds barely enough air for you to breathe. just like always, he controls you in any situation. if he doesn’t want you to breathe, he will simply steal all the air you could possibly breathe. and that means locking you tightly between his body and the wall will suffocate you as much as he wants it to, regardless of your pleas for forgiveness.

“i’m sorry....i–i shouldn’t have yelled at you....i didn’t mean to.”

whatever flattery you have in your tone fails to do the job as he closes in, the space between you negligent while you try to figure out a way to escape.

but as your body heats up from mammon forcing proximity, his hands begin to roam your body and you lose the ability to think straight.

“aww, the little human’s blushing. ya like me being this close?” you whimper against him, but he leans in to your ear and whispers, “want me to touch you?”

a quiet but still audible gasp drifts to his ears and he reigns in the delicacy of the sound. such a sweet, pretty sound. he simply needs to hear it again.

“you do, don’t you?” he chuckles lowly. “just say the words and i’ll do it.”

despite every cell in your brain rooting against you, you quietly whisper back to him, “please.... please touch me.”

a rumble sounds in his chest, growling from the pleasure of you inviting him to touch you. the heat radiates from your body, your desperation oozing from your pores. and there’s something else coming from your body, something you’re so ashamed to admit.

mammon’s teasing alone is enough to create wetness between your legs and succumbing to his dominance has your pussy producing more arousal with each throb of your lips.

“ah!” you gasp as a large hand cups your breast. you push his arm away but it only tightens his grip on it. “mammon....”

“these are some sweet tits, mc. shame ya hid ’m from me for so long.”

you have no chance to protest as he moves onto the next, grabbing both your breasts and squeazing hard. you cry out, hoping it would signal for help but it comes out as a moan instead, arousing the audience further.

every demon wants a piece of you, but mammon lays his claim on your body by roaming every inch of it, grabbing every bit of flesh as if it’s the only thing keeping him sane, which might well be true.

with the way he kneads your ass between his rough fingers, you’re just about ready to submit to him completely, to sacrifice your entire body to him so he can have his way and be satisfied.

“fuck,” mammon grumbles as his hands slide lower; you moan and whimper, embarrassed by your helpless position. there’s no way you can come back from this, not when mammon’s hand cups your pussy, rubbing up and down to bring you the relief you so desperately needed. and to his surprise, he finds more than what he expected. “look at that! she soaked through her panties and her shorts.”

“it’s your fault they’re so tight on me....”

“but it’s your fault that you’re this fucking wet,” he reminds you, and you back down with a heavy blush. “you’re the one getting turned on by this, sicko.”

he continues groping you, fondling your tits and squeezing your ass before his hand moves to your front and cups your tight pussy over and over again. you find what energy you have in you to hide your moans but it’s a failed attempt. as quiet as they are, he still hears them.

“fuck,” he groans into your ear, and whispers so no one else can hear his filthy voice. “wanna fuck this pussy so bad.”

“d-don’t….” you whimper, but your resistance earns a harsh grip on your ass. his fingers dig deep into your flesh, sure to leave behind bruises. “stop....”

“hah? you’re telling me, the great mammon, no? darlin’, ya already know how that’s gonna turn out.”

your gaze is blurred by tears — from embarrassment, from shame, from arousal. you can barely understand the plethora of sensations in your body but you do know that mammon touching you is so wrong even if it feels so right.

it confuses you so much that you can’t stop your hand from rising and colliding with his face. at least your gut instincts are still working. you push him away in the moment he is stunned and your palm stings from the slap.

the entire right side of his face burns red as he holds it.

“the fuck?!” he growls, bearing his fangs at you. “you fucking hit me?”

the crowd gasps and mutters as he dives towards you with his fists raised. you brace for impact, ready to be slammed into the wall. he’s never hurt you so badly before, but today just happens to be the day where all lines are crossed.

you gasp, holding up your hands to protect your face but as if time has frozen, you don’t feel the impact coming. when you finally breathe and look up, mammon looks down at you with raging eyes and a contorted face — as if he couldn’t quite believe what he was about to do.

before you can even think to question why he stopped himself, the two demons you least expect to see appear, parting the crowd as they arrive: lucifer, with diavolo trailing behind him.

“what is the meaning of this?” diavolo bellows, his eyes draping down your form.

lucifer’s cheeks burn, not from blushing but rather, anger, embarrassment, humiliation. “what on earth are you wearing?”

regret floods you as you remember your position in their household. and you’ve brought shame onto the brothers for flaunting yourself around rad dressed in what might as well be underwear.

diavolo’s voice is a bit more kind towards you, but he’s definitely pissed. “i’m going to assume you aren’t aware of the dress code within these walls, mc. might i remind you that dressing inappropriately will result in punishment. as will attacking another student. you will both receive detention effective immediately.”

“it was mammon—”

“stop your sputtering,” lucifer snaps. “go change this instant.”

“but….my uniform was stolen.”

“by who?”

you glance slyly to the white–haired demon beside you and your heart hammers. you could tell lucifer now, tell him everything that mammon has ever done to you. but mammon’s death glare scares you. not because of what he might do to you if you snitch, but how you’ll feel if he is ordered to never interact with you again.

you’re sure diavolo would put a stop to the bullying straight away, maybe even move you out of the house of lamentation. but that means you’ll see less of mammon and despite how much you hate him, you’ll feel lonely without his constant unwarranted attention.

“never mind,” you mutter. “i’ll find it.”

you arrived to detention on time, not wanting to anger lucifer any further. thankfully, the eldest had figured out it was mammon who stole your uniform and had him return it. the classroom is empty save for your sorrowful soul.

you hope mammon doesn’t come. he skips detentions just like he skips classes so you’re happy to have some time alone to calm down before heading home.

but as your luck would have it, the demon struts in, spotting you in your seat before striding over to sit beside you.

“you can sit anywhere in the room but you choose to sit next to me?” you scoff. “i thought you were supposed to hate me.”

“i do.”

“then why are you sitting next to me?”

mammon won’t allow that, though. he’s in control. whatever fantasies you have of him being soft and affectionate with you are over the seconds he decides them to be and right now, he puts an end to them by slipping his hand under your blazer and cupping your breast.

“so i can do this.” mammon raises his hand, slowly but it’s still concerning. his fingers brush your hair away from your face and your mind spins from the action. his thumb creeps closer, brushing the soft, sensitive skin of your lips.

you’re afraid to look at him, to see the gentleness hidden beneath his mean facade knowing that you’d fall for it in an instant.

you were beginning to feel the phantom of his touches from earlier, which is nothing if not the biggest red flag. but having his hand places on them again, fondling them eagerly is infinitely better than the memories of his corroding touch.

every second which passes with his hands on you, another part of you is corrupted by him and those few sacred, untouched parts rebel against all odds and finally give you some self–restraint and control.

“don’t touch me!” you whack his arm away and scoot over to the next chair, embarrassed that you almost fell for him again. every single time he teases you with niceties and gentle gestures that border flirtation, you find yourself hoping that it might be real.

but he’s just playing with you like he always has. he wants nothing more than to make you feel like a fool under his charms. your humiliation is food to him.

“come on, you said it was fine earlier. let me do it again.”

“no,” you say firmly. “i don’t want you to touch me anymore.”

mammon huffs. “suit yourself.”

hopefully with a seat between you, he’ll put an end to his interest in you and ignore you just like you’re ignoring him.

but choosing to ignore him would be your biggest mistake because when you glance over, in the corner of your eye you see on his ddd a photo of you naked in the shower. your body jolts at the sight of it.

“what the hell, mammon?!” you scream. “what are you doing?”

“gonna post it on devilgram, duh.”

“wait, mammon! don’t!” you try grabbing for his phone but he yanks your arm away from it and pushes you away.

“come on,” he whistles. “show me your tits.”

“what....”

he threatens you by holding his thumb over the post button. “didn’t want me to touch you, well now you gotta do what i say or i’ll post ’em”

“please, mammon. don’t do this.”

“nuh-uh. you should be on your knees begging me if you want me to stop.”

an inhumane noise releases from your throat. you’re not quite sure what it was — a growl of frustration, a beg for help? you’ll bever know because you’re too busy sinking to your knees pleading for mercy.

“not yet,” mammon stops you before your knees graze the ground. “get your tits out first.”

“what?”

“fuck, how many times do i need to say it?” he stares at you, demanding your obedience and you slowly rise, shamefully removing your blazer. “that’s better.”

his demonic blue–gold eyes cut through your skin and you unbutton your shirt one button at a time, shrugging it off so it falls down your shoulders but still hooked on your elbows. mammon salivates at the sight of your pretty chest.

he’s been waiting to see them since he saw you earlier, but fuck. this is the real deal. your breasts sit nicely in their lacey cups and just like a few hours ago, your slutty nipples poke through.

his hand immediately goes to his crotch and palms himself. you feel sick, disgusted but the way his hand moves against himself and his reddening cheeks turns you on. you try to look away from him, but you simply cannot do so.

“c’mere,” mammon mutters and with the phone in his hand ready to post your nude pictures, you do as he says. “get on your knees.”

when they touch the ground, your body shudders and you settle in front of him. there are no words to describe the way he looks down at you. you almost feel like it’s a blessing to be looked at by him at all.

“take my dick outta my pants.”

“what?”

“are ya dumb or something? take my fucking dick out of my pants.”

you can tell his patience is running thin and you don’t dare to test him further when he waves his ddd in front of your face. you reach up with shaky hands to unzip his pants but he stops you again.

“do it with your mouth.”

what kind of fantasies must he be having to order you to do such a thing? well, they’re the fantasies you play a part in and you’ll play them out exactly as he desires for your own wellbeing, lest the entire devildom see pictures of you naked.

taking the metal zip between your teeth, you pull it down. the button is more difficult to undo but you get there in the end despite mammon cackling at your struggle. next, you bite the fabric before dragging it down his thighs.

the sheer size of his cock amazes you and the ghost of it fills you up just by looking at it. your body is begging for him to be inside you, and you pray he’ll never find out. he ushers you to keep going and in the same way, you pull down his boxers, looking him dead in the eyes as you drag them down with your teeth.

he hisses as his cock is freed, letting it bounce as it twitches to life. cum oozes from his tip and you mindlessly lick your lips.

“suck it.” he says and reluctantly, you inch forward, taking his tip between your lips. your tongue swipes over it, tasting his cum that you can only describe as the only substance you’ll need to survive on from now on.

“fuck,” he groans. “your slutty mouth feels so fucking good.”

your pussy throbs each and every time he calls you a slut no matter how much you hate it and he inspires you to take him deeper in your mouth in hopes of him calling you it again. his fat cock fills your cheeks and you move back and forth, tongue running along his shaft.

he’s thick and hard, too big to fit in your mouth and you can only imagine the size of it tearing your pussy walls apart when he finally finds his home in there.

“ya looked so fucking hot in those shorts,” he grunts. “bet ya loved every minute of it, strutting around like a slut.”

“i’m not,” you mumble around his cock. “i’m not a slut.”

mammon scoffs, somehow able to understand your muffled words while his cock sits heavy in your mouth. he tuts as you pull back, drenching his cock in your saliva. “don’t lie to me, sweetheart. i know what a dirty little slut ya.”

“no…”

“every demon in that hallway was looking at ya and all i could smell was your sweet pussy leaking for me. bet they could all smell it too. bet they wanted ya as bad as i do.”

mammon….wants you?

now, that’s not something you ever thought of being a possibility. but as the words slip from his lips, your lower body heats up even more. there is so much desperation growing between your legs and you can’t hold back.

your nimble fingers find their way between your legs and mammon uses his foot to lift up your skirt and peek at the dirty things you do to yourself underneath it. god, your eyes are just so needy for him as he watches your fingers push in and out of your pussy.

the only thing blocking his view are the panties you pulled to the side and he orders you to take them off. it pains you to obey him again but the ache in your belly hurts so much more. if you listen to him well enough, maybe he’ll fill you up and finally put your body at ease.

after all that’s happened, the only thing you want right now is his fat cock stuffing you to the hilt instead of your amateur fingers which do not dare to match the level of pleasure mammon’s cock can give you.

swallowing bitterly, you gently place your soaked panties in the hand he holds out, feeling your arousal drip down your thighs already.

“you’re such a naughty girl, getting wet like this,” he teases, rubbing his thumb over the soggy patch on your panties. “so fucking bad.”

“i’m not!” you move away from him completely and plead on your knees. “i’m good, i’ve been nothing but good to you and you treat me so horribly!”

mammon supposes he should feel bad seeing you cry, but your cute little sniffles and the way your teary eyes look up at him through sodden lashes, well, it does make him feel bad….for what he’s about to do to you.

“aww, baby,” his hand snakes his hand under your chin. your skin burns from the way his fingers feel so right around your neck. his touch is gentle, guiding you up onto your feet and your knees are so weak that you begrudgingly lean on him for support. “i didn’t mean to make ya cry.”

his voice is soft as he feigns a pout while spouting such a lie. making you cry is a reward for mammon. you wouldn’t be surprised if he was getting off on this.

“what did i do to deserve this?” you whimper.

“oh darlin’” he kisses your cheek, nuzzling into your neck. the softness in his voice is foreign, and the gentle graze of his lips teasing your skin is addicting. “do you want me to stop?”

“huh?”

“want me to stop being mean to ya?”

freeing himself from the intoxicating scent of your pulse, he holds his face close to you with a hand on either side of yours, thumbs stroking your hot cheeks and wiping away tears. a sick feeling builds in your stomach, but a desperate, needy ache grows faster and stronger.

and as loud as they both are, you can only listen to one bodily instinct at a time.

nodding slowly, you don’t tear your eyes away from his hoping he will see how pathetic and miserable and desperate you are. you’d do anything if it means he’ll stop harassing you.

mammon’s wide smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes and he leans in, surprising you when his lips touch yours. your eyes grow to an abstractly large size and you don’t dare to move as he glides his lips against yours.

one arm wraps around your waist, pulling you flush against him and his cock presses into your tummy while the other snakes around your shoulders, grabbing your scalp and holding your head in place. despite your best efforts to push him away, you remain with your lips locked onto his.

they’re both hot and cold at the same time, both gentle and destructive. all of your walls break down as he pries your sorry lips apart, swiping his tongue along them before devouring your mouth whole.

you moan and gasp against him, beating his chest with your fists but he refuses to let you go and to your dismay — or delight, you can’t quite tell — his hips begin moving. he grinds into your body, rubbing his bare cock along your tummy and leaving cum stains on your clothes.

every alarm in your body rings loudly and you lose the ability to breathe. your mind fogs up from the lack of air but you’re sure he’s doing this on purpose, not allowing you a single ounce of it and if one manages to slip past your lips, he steals it right away.

you know how he works. what mammon wants, mammon gets and while he deprives you of oxygen, he’s waiting for you to give in.

he forces his tongue deep in your mouth but the feel of it is new and draws out a deeper beast within you, greed and excitement growing in your core. while his cock ruts against you, your hands find it and you slowly stroke him, spreading his pre–cum along his length.

“that’s it. keep doing that,” he groans, lips only inches apart. “good girl.”

a whimper escapes you as the words roll of his tongue and your pussy erupts in sparks.

“what’s that, huh? you like it when i call you good girl?” biting your lip, you nod eagerly, earning another proud smile from him. “hm, maybe i should keep calling ya it. but then again, you’re nothing but a worthless slut.”

mammon grabs a fistful of your hair and pushes you to the cold, hard ground. before you can wiggle away, he has you locked in place with your arms pinned down at the sides and your legs stretched on either side of his hips.

“mammon!” you yelp. “please, no….”

“dontcha ya want me to stop being mean to ya?” he questions, eyes filled with madness as he yanks down your bra and gropes your breasts. holding you in place as you writhe against him, mammon leans down and takes your nipple between his lips. “i’ll stop if you let me fuck your sweet little pussy. it’s a good deal, ain’t it?”

it’s the most horrific deal you’ve ever heard but you’re beyond reasoning at this point. the two things you desire most — for him to fuck you dumb on his cock and for him to stop bullying you — he can give to you right now. there’s no harm in killing two birds with one stone, right? if he’s going to be mean about it, you’ve no choice but to take it given it’s the only chance you’ll ever have to free yourself from him.

“fuck, your tits are so sweet.” he can’t stop playing with them, squeezing them, slapping them and marvelling at the way they jiggle, then pinching your nipples and pulling them taught before releasing them and taking them in his mouth again.

“ah!” you moan. “mammon, don’t…” but the warmth of his lips is welcomed by your body and you arch into him.

burying his face into your breasts, he sucks and bites for what feels like hours, covering your mounds with bruises and when he rises with a gasp, his lips are covered in his saliva. his mini–makeout session with your breasts makes every hair on your body stand tall, all the while, your pussy leaks onto the ground beneath you.

mammon grabs both of your breasts, blessing each of his hands with their softness and rubs his cock head over your puffy lips.

“fucking sugar tits, alright,” he jokes. “ya like it when i call ya that?”

you shake your head violently but the truth is, you haven’t stopped thinking about it since he called you it earlier. it’s such a ridiculous name, so degrading and obscene. yet, your hole clenches over nothing when he calls you it.

“that’s right, sugar tits. i can feel your pussy throbbing against me.” mammon warns. “you’re gonna cum while i call ya sugar tits, ain’t ya?”

shaking your head again, you cry no’s and stop’s but each of them fly past his ears. but a guttural feeling deep down knows you’re glad he won’t listen. your pussy aches for his cock to fill you up, for your name to roll off his lips while he fucks his cum far into your pussy.

“you want this, don’t ya?”

“no,” you sob.

“don’t lie to me, bitch. you know you want it.”

“i don’t!”

oh, but you do.

you want this more than anything but you’d rather him not know because it would only give him more fuel to ruin you with.

“yes, you fucking do,” he forces the answer for you. his grabs his cock and prods it against your hole. it’s so wet and slippery that he almost falls deep inside but he’s using the last remainders of his control to hear you say the words he’s wanted to hear for so long. “you fucking want this. tell me you want this.”

you whine. struggling against him but he pushes you down with his ungodly strength.

“say it or i’ll post the fucking pictures.”

“i want it!” you yelp, the words blurting out against your will. “please, mammon. i want it!”

“that’s what i fucking thought.”

and with that, mammon pushes himself past your hole, his leaking tip digging its way into your pussy. your legs fly in the air as you feel him stretch your walls unbelievably wide.

“fuck! mammon!”

“your pussy’s sucking me in, baby,” he grunts with each thrust. “i knew ya wanted my cock this bad.”

with each rock of his hips, your body drags against the ground and he pins you down in place again, arms at your side and body spread wide for him. his eyes latch onto your tits bouncing with every thrust.

they mesmerise him, the way they knock up and down with each hard thrust acting as hypnosis for the demon and he grows desperate for release.

“fuck, sugar tits,” you clench at the pet name. it’s so humiliating but it feels so fucking good, as good as his cock battering your insides. “such a fucking slut enjoying my cock like this.”

he spits insult after insult, mocking you for your weakness against him. “nothin’ but a dirty little human desperate for some demon cock, huh? bet that’s why ya let me fuck around with ya for so long, because ya wanted this to happen, wanted me to fill your tiny little hole with my cum. isn’t that right?”

“no,” you shake your head, but you’re quickly met with his hands gripping your face harshly. “i mean, yes! yes i wanted this!”

“keep going….” he ruts harder, knocking your insides in the right way.

“i wanted this for so long, mammon!” you cry. “wanted your cock so bad i let you treat me like dirt all this time!”

“that’s right,” mammon groans. “i’m always fucking right about ya. nothin’ but a slutty little hole for me. gonna fucking breed ya with all of my cum, and no one’s ever gonna touch ya but me.”

“oh!” you moan, relishing in the words spilling from his lips. you know he doesn’t mean anything special by it, but you’re so blissed out from his cock that for a moment, it feels real. you’re his and his only in the empty classroom and you feel….special. “mammon, it’s so good!”

“yeah? my cock’s making ya feel good?”

“yes!”

“fucking hell, sugar tits loves my cock,” he yells for the whole school to hear, laughing at your the way your pussy tightens when he says it. “go on, you say it too.”

“huh?” you whine.

“fucking say it, scream it. need the whole fucking devildom to here ya being a slut for me.”

“but—”

“say it, angel. or ya don’t get to cum,” he grins seeing the desperation in your eyes, so obedient to him just for an orgasm. how much more pathetic can you get? “go on, be a good girl and say it.”

“i….i love mammon’s cock….”

“louder.”

“i love mammon’s cock,” you repeat but he still isn’t satisfied. he thrusts into you particularly harshly, a yelp escaping your lips and you hear his message loud and clear, screaming, “i love the great mammon’s cock!”

“that’s right, sugar tits,” he leans down. “ya gonna cum now?”

you nod fervently, desperate for release. his cock drags along your clenching walls, awakening the hidden sweet spots as your nectar leaks around him. “wanna cum! please!”

“go ahead, baby,” he ruts with a deep groan, coming close to the edge himself. “i’m gonna finish inside your filthy little pussy.”

“hhm,” you moan. “you shouldn’t!”

“but i’m gonna anyway.”

all it takes as one more thrust to feel ropes of mammon’s hot cum spurting out into your pussy. his thumb finds your clit and pinches it, pulls it, then circles it roughly while pushing his cum deeper inside you with his cock. seconds later, ecstasy washes over you and your body loses control, spasming against his cock as you arch deeper into it. your walls are painted white with his cum and his cocks remains sheathed in your pussy as you writhe through your prolonged orgasm.

“fuck!” you squeal. “it feels so fucking good!”

“holy shit,” mammon groans, hissing when he finally pulls out from your hot mess of a pussy. “that was fucking amazing, huh?”

he falls back, watching your body twitch and tremble and his cum pours out from between your legs, giving him the perfect idea. he reaches for his ddd and opens the camera, facing it towards your blissed the fuck out body.

“hey, sugar tits,” you look at him, haunted by the sick grin on his face. “smile for the camera.”

“wait, mammon—”

“shaddup,” he mumbles and seconds later, several snaps of his camera sound. you yelp, covering your chest and closing your legs in a weak attempt. but mammon’s strength is far to superior to yours and he yanks your legs back open. “i gotcha now, angel.”

“what…?”

he snaps several more pictures and even a short film of his cum gushing out of your pussy. “fuck, i could sell these for some real grimm.”

the way his eyes light up terrifies you and you want nothing more than to curl up into a ball and cease to exist. if he did, your life in the devildom would truly be over. you’d have no dignity remaining from what little of it was left anyway.

“you said you’s stop!” you cry. “you promised you wouldn’t mess with me anymore if i let you fuck me!”

“ya didn’t actually believe that, did ya?”

the world comes crashing down on your heavy, aching body and you’re overcome with violent sobbing. all hope is lost; there’s nothing good left for you now. mammon has made sure of that.

“why? why are you doing this to me?”

“because you’re nothing but a worthless slut. but you’re fun to play with, i’ll give ya that.”

every nerve on your body aches with humiliation. and what’s worse is knowing mammon gets off to it every single time.

how could you ever think you would mean something to him? you know your place full and well yet you still strived to be something more to him, when in reality, all you are is a toy for him to play with, a pathetic human designed for him to ruin in every way.

“p-please….” you sob. “please don’t tell anyone.

“that’s right, angel. you better do everything i say from now on, or else the entire fucking devildom is gonna know how much of a greedy slut ya are. fuck, ya were so fucking desperate for me to breed ya.”

your heart collapses into your stomach; you were a fool to ever believe him. his words and his touches twisted their way into your core and you gave into your sickly attraction to him. but what’s done is done and the best you can do now is some damage control.

“y–you won’t show the pictures to anyone….right?”

mammon scoffs with his devilish grin refusing to leave his face. your skin tingles as he glares at you. despite his terrible attention span and low grades, mammon is smart when he wants to be and smart he is by hacking away at all of your strength, leaving you with nothing but weakness and in the position he’s been wanting you in since the beginning.

“i won’t….for a price,” he grins. “what are ya willing to do to stop me from showing ‘em?”

with one question spilling from his lips, your mind shatters upon the realisation that your existence is now in his hands. you swallow, giving up on all of your pride and courage and hoping desperation will help you. and you really hope it will because that’s all you have left.

“anything. i’ll do anything.”

“good,” his eyes are dark like deep water as he leans over you again, engulfing your pitiful body in his scent. your heart races, tears soaking your eyes as you officially sign away your life to him. “because from now on, you’re the great mammon’s personal slut.”

#♡ pearl’s writing #obey me x reader #obey me #obey me smut #mammon x reader #obey me mammon #obey me shall we date #obey me mammon smut #obey me x reader smut #obey me x female reader #tw: dark content

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mirrored-movements · 11 months

Text

There's a Problem

(Miguel O'hara x reader)

Synopsis: Miguel is turned into a cat by a villain, Peter and Jess need someone to watch him until they find out how to fix it- this is where you come in, however, they neglect to mention that Miguel is the cat you're now tasked with looking over.

Warnings: None, lack of romance tbh but still kinda cute

“What’s the problem? Where’s the emergency?” Arriving at HQ out of breath and half put together you leaned against the doorway to the meeting room, mask to your costume in hand as you felt there wasn’t enough time to put it on.

“(Y/N)! Thank god you’re here.” Peter’s robe-clad form right away came over to greet you, the man's arm moving behind your shoulder to bring you farther into the room. “We had er- a little problem.”

Raising a brow you side-eyed him, gaze briefly spotting Jess also occupying the room, the woman's arms folded as her head shook from side to side in some sort of impatiens.

“Problem? What do you mean by problem? I thought there was an emergency.”

“Well I mean it’s kind of an-” “We need you to look after something for a bit,” Cutting the man off Jess spoke, the woman's loud voice quickly cutting through the air as she’d rounded a table. “Think of it like a mission.”

“Alright,” Somewhat following along you watched the woman with a skeptical stare. “What do you need me to do?”

She seemed the finally pause, her form kneeling a bit in order to pull something out from underneath the table. “We need you to watch him for a bit.” Rising back up she seemed to hold out a cat?

The fluffy brown feline seemed more than displeased with being held, it’s equally as fluffy tail swishing back and forth angrily.

“A cat? You need me to watch a cat?” Knitting your brows together you watched the two respond with a nod, the animal being placed back onto the floor where it begrudgingly trotted over occupying the empty space in front of you.

“Yes well,” Peter paused upon feeling the intense stare Jess had given him, the man releasing a laugh. “Yeah, we need you to watch him, very important and whatnot.”

Blinking while trying to process what was being said you sucked in a breath letting out a sigh; kneeling down you held out a hand towards the cat trying to beckon it over. “Does it have a name?”

“Mig-” “His names Mog.” Cutting Peter off Jess nodded her head. “We’ll pick him up later, but until then we just need someone we trust to look after him.”

You thought it was strange how they both spoke about the feline and how they chose you out of everyone to watch said feline, seemed a bit fishy. “Couldn’t you have gotten one of the others to watch him?”

Peter’s hand came quickly to rest on your shoulder. “Miguel trusts you and therefore thats why we figured you’d be the best choice.” Turning his head a bit he added on quietly so that only you could hear. “And we all know how you li-”

“Ok ok, I’ll take care of the cat.” Shoving the brunette away you let out a huff. “Jeez can’t tell you people anything.”

“You’re a saint.”

Rolling your eyes you moved to pick up the cat, your hands coming to wrap around it despite how reluctant it seemed. “Yeah yeah whatever.” Shaking your head once more you turned to head out of the office, cat in hand as you muttered to yourself. “Basically blackmail.”

“They so owe me.”

Taking a moment to see that the cat had a mere daypass wrapped around it’s neck like a collar you made the decision to just bring it back to your apartment. The animal seeming less tense once you’d made it out of HQ however it still refused to leave the spot on your couch that you’d sat him on.

You’ve had cats a few times growing up, however, this one just felt different from any cat you’d met.

“You are- certainly something Mog.” Finding yourself kneeling before him to stare into his little face your eyes took in the strange colour of his eyes, the brown colour was mainly present however near the center it seemed to become a ruby hue.

Pointing a finger towards the cat you held it up to him, trying to see if he’d rub into it like any other cat- however, he just raised a paw to push your hand away, tail flicking back and forth.

After a few more failed attempts to coax the cat into doing cat like things, you’d inevitably given up. Hand raising to rub the bridge of your nose as you’d mindlessly flicked on the TV to some random channel.

It was beyond your comprehension as to why Jess and Peter had a cat in HQ appart from spider-cat, and to ask you to watch it nonetheless?

Wild.

Figuring you’d leave the cat to do his own thing you trailed into your room, falling face first onto the bed intent on the possability of taking a nap.

Remaining on the couch for a few minutes the felines gaze trailed around the room, little knick knacks and picture frames littered the small space, as did a random assortment of blankets. There was the smell of vanilla in the air, presumably from a wax warmer however he’d also noted how you carried that scent as well.

Hopping off the couch he crept towards the rest of the room, eyes taking in the rest of the apartment as well as the little things that seemed to make it unique. Stupid little stickers were stuck in random places and he could tell some of the posted noted stuck to the fridge were from the youth of the spider society.

You did like to take care of everyone.

Taking a moment to stare at each note he eventually trotted towards where he assumed your room was, the curtains had been closed leaving only a sliver of sunlight to shine in.

Finding that the room was just as decorated as the rest of the apartment he moved towards the desk, the newfound cat agility making it easier to hop onto the surface. Gaze right away moving towards a turned off laptop.

He shouldn’t.

But, he’s good at keeping secrets so…

With the tap of a paw on the trackpad the device lit up, no password seemed to inhibit anyone from accessing the device which was both a good thing and bad thing. Good in that he didn’t need a password but bad because anyone could access it and see the photos you’d used as your wallpaper- each having a different member of the spider society.

Somehow navigating the mouse he tapped a few things opening up one of the photos, the title of it being ‘the loml’.

What did loml mean?

Sitting there for a good few minutes he gave up, attention moving to some more photos you’d taken, each having similar labels.

A disgruntled growl left the feline, his paws nearing the edge of the desk where he’d leaped from landing on the bed with a silent thump. Each paw moved with careful precision as he neared where your face was, a series of meows with the intent to wake you up leaving him.

Cracking your eyes open at the sound you let out a low groan, “Didn’t like what was on TV?” sarcastically asking that Mog merely meowed once more, his little snout jutting afterwards towards where your computer was.

Squinting a little bit to note what he was trying to get at you glanced towards the cat once more- there was something certainly strange about this particular brown cat. Your spider senses have been off the hook since leaving HQ however you just figured this is why a normal person couldn’t just take him in.

Sitting up you rose up from the bed, hands pulling out the chair tucked beneath your desk all the while Mog trailed over as well, the feline popping up onto your thigh quickly to peer over the surface.

“Did you open some stuff?” Tiling your head down while asking that you shook the thought away, reminding yourself that a cat couldn’t talk.

Brown and red hues stared up at you almost innocently, a sort of expectation followed after as though he were asking you what was going on on the screen.

Shifting to sit more comfortably you raised a hand pointing towards the screen, “This one’s me,” You pointed towards the left side, “And this one is Miguel.” Your hand trailed to the right towards where the less than enthusiastic man stood. “He looks really crabby but he can be nice when he wants to.”

Glancing down you took note of how the cat’s whiskers twitched at your answer, dual-toned gaze returning towards the desk where he then hopped onto, head rubbing the corner of the screen where the title of the document rested.

“Sometimes I think he carries too much.” Mindlessly musing that out you let out an airy laugh, the cat's attention seemingly solely focused on you now, as if trying to get you to continue with that train of thought.

Which you did.

“I know he’s got it rough, but I mean- I just don’t think anyone should deal with that alone- right?” You stared at the brown animal almost expectantly, hand coming to brush through your hair quickly. “I guess they say animals are the best listeners.”

Taking in your words he let out a trilling noise, stepping towards the edge of the desk where he seemingly nodded his head up and down.

Reaching out a part of you felt happy when Mog had let you gently pet his head, fingers scratching the side of his face softly.

“You’re so cute.” Cooing softly you continued to pet the cat only pausing once you felt that it was enough, you couldn’t afford to get attached to the animal knowing that Jess or Peter would be dropping by later in the evening to pick him back up.

Perking up a little Mog turned his head towards something shiny off to the side, his tail swishing back and forth as he tried to figure out what exactly was wrapped around one of the many water bottles scattered around your room.

Noting where he was looking you let out a soft laugh, body rising from the chair in order to bring the bottle over taking off the item of interest.

It was a bracelet.

“Made this for someone but I don’t think he’d want it,” Taking the bracelet off the bottle you held it in your hand to show Mog, “He’d not really the accessory type.”

There was a sort of bitterness to your words; there were many occasions that you’d tried to get in the good graces of the leader of the Spider-society, and despite the insistence from Peter that you were liked- it didn’t quite feel that way.

“Whatever though, here let's hide that day pass for now.” Making sure that the bracelet wasn’t too small or too big you slid it over Mogs face happy that he seemed to let you, the item now sitting neatly around his neck. “So handsome.” Cooing once again a smile gradually broke out among your face.

Taking in your expression Mog let out a churr, the noise causing your smile to widen.

---

“-and then Hobi and I got stuck on the train, honestly have no clue what happened after that but the mission ended pretty quick. He’s not great with damage control though so we got an earful back at HQ.” Finishing your story absentmindedly you continued moving throughout the kitchen.

Yourself and Mog having migrated there after lingering in your room a while longer.

“Oh my god and Miguel- so we were both like absolutely coated in mud and whatnot and didn’t think about the mess it'd track in- so he absolutely reamed us out.” You laughed briefly at the memory lips curling up into a smile. “Although I do think Hobi got the brunt of the scolding.”

Taking a moment you thought back to that day, recalling how you’d been able to avoid most of the yelling and instead were told to just go and clean up.

Maybe Peter was right to some extent.

With a sigh you paused whatever you were doing, arms folding over one another as you leaned onto the counter that Mog sat on.

“You’re a good listener.” Turning your head to the feline you extended a hand finding that he allowed you to pet the back of his head once again.

Taking a moment you turned, both hands coming to squish Mogs little face pressing a quick peck to the top of his head. “If Jess and Peter weren’t coming to get you I’d a hundred percent just take you in.”

At the mention of leaving Mog let out a huff, his tail swishing back and forth as though he himself didn’t want to leave.

It was homey here, you were homey.

Deciding that you weren’t hungry anymore, you’d moved to scoop the cat off the counter, holding him within your arms much like how one would hold a baby.

“Let’s go watch some Netflix or something- they updated black mirror.”

—-

The quiet atmosphere of your apartment was interrupted briefly as an orange glowing portal illuminated the room, Peter’s form stepping out.

“(Y/N)? I’m here to pick up the cat.” Calling out into the apartment the man let out a sigh upon hearing no response, slipper-clad feet scuffling across the floor towards the open doorway at the end of the hall. “(Y/N)?”

Hesitantly peeking into the room the man let out a soft laugh, his eyes took in the way you and the cat sat.

Your laptop had been sat on the covers in front of you, all the while you laid on your side, one hand resting over the brown feline as he himself curled up comfortably.

“Knew it.” Holding himself back from fist pumping the air he trailed towards the two, hand reaching over you in order to poke the sleeping feline.

A low Murr left him before he rose his small head, eyes landing on Peter.

“Come on, we gotta go.”

Almost reluctantly slipping out from beneath your hand the cat gave a short stretch inevitably leaving with Peter.

It was a few hours later that you’d begun to stir, the feeling of something heavy sitting along the edge of the bed barely registering in your mind.

Rubbing your eyes with a yawn you’d sat up, joints cracking in response.

“Sleep well?”

Jumping at the voice your head snapped around, eyes landing on the corner of your bed where the form of Miguel surprisingly leaned on.

The head of his suit was deactivated leaving his face readable.

“Yeah yeah, it was good- er what are you doing here?” Having stood up from the bed trying to make yourself a little more presentable a sheepish smile crept across your face. Your eyes briefly flickered around the room in search of a certain feline.

“Just wanted to give my thanks.”

Blinking in response to what he was saying you opened your mouth to question the statement, pausing once he’d raised a hand to display his wrist.

A bracelet was wrapped around the blue and red suit, the bracelet you’d put on Mog.

Wait.

“Hold on- you,” Pointing a finger at the man you pieced your thoughts together; Jess and Peter keeping this hush-hush, you being tasked with pet sitting, the cat having the same striking pair of eyes that Miguel did-

You were so dumb.

“Let’s just keep that between the four of us,” Noting how you’d pieced things together he let out a hum, head shaking from side to side a little in a sort of amusement.

Running the palms of your hands down your face the tips of your ears burned, your form face plant back into the bed with a muffled groan.

Head popping up briefly to speak, “Can we also forget the last few hours? For humility’s sake?”

At the mention of that, the edges of his lips quirked up head tilting back to regard you with a teasing smile. “Why? Am I not handsome anymore?” He couldn’t help himself in commenting that, the man chuckling softly as more groans arose from you.

Deciding to continue on he leaned over a bit hovering above where your head was, “Not cute? No more praise for being a good listener?” At the sound of you muttering something incoherent he couldn’t help but grin, eyes taking in the way you hid yourself.

Moving so that he could kneel on the floor at the foot of your bed his hands reached out to press against the sides of your face pulling it out from within the covers, an obvious embarrassed look covered your face.

“Really though, you could say this was…eye opening.” Resting his chin onto the covers he stared into your eyes, a genuine look of gratitude crossing his features followed by a hum. “However I do disagree with being crabby- I like to think I'm more work-oriented,” Taking a moment to think he added on, thumbs both coming to brush against your cheeks. “But, maybe I do have too much on my plate.”

Giving your face a gentle squeeze he pulled back, hands moving to rest against his hips as a new question dawned on him.

“Now answer me this, what does loml mean and why did you label all our photos with that?”

-------

Anyways this idea was from one of my Instagram mutuals so if it's ass- blame them

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worriedvision · 5 months

Text

He saves you - Wriothesley

Part 2 of this fic. Gender neutral reader, fluff ending. Mentions being kidnapped, reader doesn't actually get harmed during their captivity.

Wriothesley didn't move on, contrary to your thoughts. You honestly believed that he would simply move on, his work being his priority over anything else. Besides, you weren't his usual type. Whenever he saw you, he kept trying to approach you to apologise with a gift. You kept walking away, pretending you had to be somewhere or you forgot something. Behind closed doors, he would often mope as he read over paperwork. Sigewinne thought he was ill at one point, only for Wriothesley to explain he simply had personal problems.

You were embarrassed about falling for Wriothesley so quickly, not once thinking he had ulterior motives. When your friends tease you for Wriothesley approaching you, clearly wanting to apologise and try to ask you out, you brush it off before changing the topic. When you get asked about how to win Wriothesleys affection, you try to get them to date Wriothesley. No matter what you suggested, however, Wriothesley shut down. He knew that the people who kept approaching him were after his looks and nothing more - well, perhaps the mora.

One evening, you get approached by several Fatui agents. Thinking they're going to ask you about Wriothesley, perhaps some blackmail material, you don't run. This was a mistake, unfortunately, as they grab you and run. Trying to scream out, you get knocked unconscious.

You were being held randsom. Something about getting the Fatui agents imprisoned currently out early. You didn't get how this would help, however, thinking you were nothing to the Duke. The agents were kind enough to feed you, but you didn't especially like the idea of being stuck in a room in the hopes of your ex actually loving you enough to save you. You tried to speak up several times, explaining you were a bet, only to get funny looks from your captors.

Meanwhile, Wriothesley was frothing with rage when he received a letter regarding your state. The letter detailed how you would be sold off to the highest bidder, unless Wriothesley releases the Fatui agents currently imprisoned. Being the Duke, he had to find someone who could take over his responsibilities if he were to save you. He refused to play into the Fatuis hands, especially over something as trivial as serving sentences they deserved.

He loves you, he knows this. He knows it would be difficult to win your trust, but he is determined to do this. Hell, it probably wouldn't take long to track down the location of the letter. Contacting Neuvillette to bring the captors to justice wouldn't be difficult either, it would just be trying to subdue them legally.

...ahh, he may as well use his fists. What is Neuvillette gonna do, sentence him to the prison he runs and oversees? As if.

"We have a problem!" You hear an agent exclaim, screams in the background as you hear metal clashing against various surfaces. "He's found us!"

Wriothesley? Oh, he's probably doing this so he doesn't have to release the prisoners that were associated with the Fatui. Still, though, he could have just left you and not responded at all.

Did he actually love you enough to save you?

"Where are they?" You hear Wriothesley growl, an agent whimpering before getting tossed on the ground. "You bastards better have kept them safe."

"Sir, you haven't held up your part of- ahh, please don't hurt me!"

Before you knew it, you saw an agent get comically thrown into the room, breaking the door in the process. In stepped Wriothesley, who immediately relaxed when making eye contact with you. He rushed over, freeing you before taking his leave. He doesn't stop holding your hand, and you realise how much you miss this feeling. Being close to him, and starting to recognise you must have been important to him, it was comforting.

"Did they harm you?" Wriothesley asks, breaking the silence.

"No. They fed me, all they did was chain me in a room." You reply, smiling.

"You say that like that's acceptable. You shouldn't be restricted, especially when you aren't guilty of anything."

"... I'm surprised you came for me." You chime up, Wriothesley squeezing your hand. "I thought you would have your work."

"I love you, of course I'd come to save you!" Wriothesley chuckles.

"The bet is over, Wriothesley. You don't need to keep-"

"I'm not doing this for a bet anymore. I do love you, and I want to win you back."

Walking towards Neuvillette's place of work, ready to give your statement, you find yourself thinking of spending time with Wriothesley.

When you asked Wriothesley to have some tea with you at a nearby café, he couldn't hide his excitement. He extends his arm, inviting you to link, smirking at jealous onlookers. He knew he was lucky to have you, to have a second chance. He wasn't going to fumble the bag this time, he was going to prove his feelings for you.

He tries to feed you some cake, and to his utter joy you take the bite before feeding him a piece as well. You both argue about who's paying, both insisting on paying, before receiving news that a Harbinger was going to be paying for you.

See, the agents acted against the orders given to them. They were not supposed to kidnap you - turns out, Pantalone had spoken about negotiating with Neuvillette to get the Fatui exempt from being imprisoned. He intended on having a civil discussion, and to offer a healthy sum of mora to sweeten the deal as well as offering their services, not to hold someone hostage. From his experience, that would lead to effectively cutting ties with a possible ally.

Pantalone was, surprisingly, very angry to find out about the agents kidnapping you. Neuvillette had torn into him, explaining this has entirely erased the chance of the Fatui getting reduced sentences. Understanding this, he apologises for this happening before heading out, noting you walking towards the café.

It wasn't going to be enough, but it would help with mending the relationship between the Fatui and Fontaine.

Wriothesley was ecstatic to hear that you wanted to try dating, picking you up and spinning you around. He knew people would be looking at him oddly, but he didn't care.

He finally won the opportunity to date you.

#gender neutral reader #genshin impact imagines #wriothesley x gender neutral reader #wriothesley x reader #wriothesley

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sweetcarolina-24 · 7 months

Text

Shut Her Up*

Kinktober Day 9: Bondage

Gwynriel x Reader

kinktober masterlist

a/n: I am unfortunately sick, so I'm watching Game of Thrones while I write. I looove Gwynriel so I'm really excited for this one.

cw: poly, bondage, 69, oral(f receiving), fingering, blackmail lol. also sort of a dark, out of character gwyn

You work with Gwyn in the library, but you two don't get along. You bicker constantly. Azriel notices you being rude to her one day and decides that the best way to get the two of you to make up is to bring you both to bed. But since he is protective of his mate, and you were being rude to her, he will not make this easy for you.

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　　☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

Gwyn had a smirk on her pretty little face, her teal eyes wandering down your body.

If you'd known being rude to her in front of the Shadowsinger would land you in this position, you would do it more often.

Azriel's shadows were confining your hands above your head, tying them to the bed. Your legs were spread apart, the shadows attaching them to the lower bedposts.

"She looks so pretty like this," Gwyn smirked, trailing her hand down your body. You shivered. "Look how aroused she is.”

"Yes," Azriel agreed. "Do you like being confined like this, y/n?"

"Yes," you gasped, nodding desperately. He grinned, stroking your cheek.

He held his scarred fingers to your mouth. You opened, letting him slip them inside. You licked and sucked on the pads of his fingers until he was satisfied.

He withdrew them and brought them between your legs. You gasped as he slipped them inside.

Gwyn lowered her mouth to your breast, taking one into her mouth. You let out a loud moan as Azriel curved his fingers, hitting that spot inside of you.

He chuckled lowly as you writhed against the restraints, your moans loud and undignified.

"Shut her up, Gwyn," Azriel instructed.

Gwyn was all too happy to oblige. She crawled up to the top of the bed and threw one leg over you. She lowered herself onto your face and you began dragging your tongue through her folds.

Her moans were so pretty as she cupped her breasts in her hands, riding your face. You lapped at her clit, making her whimper.

You halted in your movements completely when you felt Azriel's cock slide inside of you. But Gwyn reached a hand back to pinch your nipple, telling you to continue working her.

The strokes of your tongue were less graceful now that the male was slamming in and out of you.

Azriel began rubbing your clit, making you whine against Gwyn's core. Neither of you were cumming without his permission.

There was no way for you to ask. Your hands and legs were both tied up, and your mouth was on Gwyn. You just hoped he would be kind.

Maybe if you got Gwyn closer to the edge, he'd give you both permission. You began sucking her clit into your mouth brutally, making her cry out, tears welling in her eyes above you.

"Az, Az," she panted. "Can I cum, please?"

"Go ahead, Gwyn," he said, careful not to say your name.

You whined at that, but Gwyn came apart on top of you. She moaned loudly, squeezing her breasts as she rode your face into an orgasm. When she came down, she went to get off of you.

"No," Azriel commanded. "Turn around. Pleasure each other for me."

Gwyn turned herself around, keeping her core on your mouth. She bent down, licking at your clit. Azriel was still slamming into you.

"Gwyn, you may cum whenever you'd like," he granted her. "Y/n, you will wait until I say so."

You whined again, and Azriel smacked the side of your thigh. You moaned as his cock found that perfect angle inside of you.

You couldn't think of anything except your desire to cum. Gwyn had another orgasm on your mouth, and you licked up her release. Then, you nipped at her clit out of jealousy.

"Ow!" she exclaimed. "Azzy, she bit me!"

"Be nice, y/n," he warned you. "Or you won't cum at all."

You whimpered, feeling the coil in your stomach growing so tight, it was threatening to snap.

"She's getting close," Azriel observed, speaking to Gwyn.

Gwyn sneered, landing a harsh smack to your clit. You cried out, trying to close your legs, but you were unable to.

Gwyn went right back to licking and sucking on your clit again. You'd stopped your work on hers, but it still rest just above your face. The smell of her release made you envious.

Az groaned as he released inside of you. You moaned, tugging at your bonds desperately.

He pulled out for just a second, which made you whine. Gwyn stopped her work on you to put her mouth on him until he was hard again.

When he was hard again, he slid right back into you, and Gwyn went back to lapping at your folds.

"Please," you whimpered, your hips bucking.

"Should we let her?" Azriel asked Gwyn. Gwyn lifted her face, causing that coil to disappear.

"I don't know," she sighed. "She's been so mean to me."

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," you begged, tears falling from your eyes. "Please, Gwyn. I won't be mean anymore. Please."

"I've been nothing but kind to you," Gwyn said.

That was a lie, but you didn't dare accuse her of lying in front of her mate, who would always take her word over yours.

"Should I be kind now?" she teased, her fingers rubbing circles on your clit.

"Please, please," you sobbed, hips bucking.

"Take the blame for losing Merrill's paperwork, and you can cum," she decided.

"But I didn't--"

"Did I ask if you did or not?" she snapped. "You will take the blame, or we will keep torturing you. And Az here has so much more in store for you if you refuse."

"Fine, fine," you cried, that coil in your stomach tightening again. "I'll take the blame. Please let me cum."

"Take pity on her, Gwyn," Azriel said to his mate, his cock finding that angle again.

"Okay, y/n," she said. "You may cum."

The coil snapped as soon as her tongue flicked your clit again.

Your moans were so loud, the whole House likely heard you. But you didn't care.

Gwyn kept sucking on those nerves through your orgasm as you ripped against the bonds, unsuccessfully, screaming your pleasure.

Azriel was laughing darkly as he kept fucking into you. You were a mess, tears of pleasure streaming down your blissed out face.

When you came down, the shadows released you. But you were too tired to sit up. Gwyn landed another smack to your clit.

"Ow! What was that for?" you shrieked, jolting upright.

"I felt like it," she grinned.

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　　☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

#gwynriel #gwyneth berdara #azriel x gwyn #gwyn acosf #azriel acotar #acotar #acotar smut #gwynriel x reader #gwyn x reader #azriel x you #mean dom! azriel #azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger #gxg smut #poly!gwynriel x reader

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cleoluvrr · 9 months

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Smarty III (Rafe Cameron x OC)

SYNOPSIS: smart girl isn’t as smart as rafe cameron.

WARNINGS: mature content; dark!rafe, toxic relationship, domestic violence, verbal abuse, blackmail, jealousy, general violence, manipulative behavior, explicit language, substance abuse & addiction, use of guns, mentions of past crimes, obsession

masterlist

Rafe’s lips against my neck did nothing to distract me from the irritation that settled deep in my stomach.

I stared mindlessly at the wall as the man below me trailed warm, wet kisses over my skin, the silence in the room filled with the sound of his lips connecting to their target. The hand that rested on my waist gripped tightly, fingers kneading the flesh beneath them as he moved our hips against each other.

“What the hell is your problem?” The blonde groaned out from beneath me, my unresponsiveness to his touch starting to become obvious.

I let my eyes fall to meet his, lids low from arousal and staring right back up at me. Mixed with the desire was annoyance, eyebrows meeting together so slightly that you’d miss it if you blinked.

My eyebrows raised at the question as I feigned cluelessness, shoulders rising in tandem with the shaking of my head to add to the act.

“Are you still mad?”

“Mad?” I asked, tilting my head to the side like a lost puppy. “Why would I be mad, Rafe? It's not like you went behind my back to get me fired…”

I’d been sitting in the house for days, my schedule filled with blank spaces that never ended. I had been sentenced to the prison that was the four walls of my room after I got a call from my boss that I was being let go. He didn’t give a reason, and I didn’t ask because I already knew exactly why.

Pissed was an understatement; a word far too simple to describe the anger I felt towards Rafe. I had no doubt in my mind that he called the Island Club and gave them some bullshit reason as to why I couldn’t work there anymore; he was the only person that had any motive to do so.

When he texted me earlier today to declare he was picking me up to bring me to his house, I had no excuse as to why I couldn’t. My parents were at work, my friends were on vacation for the summer, and I was now unemployed. Me being upset with him wasn’t a good enough reason–he didn’t care enough.

He threw his head back into the couch we were sitting on and groaned loudly, the soft leather material cushioning the fall.

“We already had this conversation, Laia. You–”

“I’m aware, Rafe.” I say, cutting him off before he could continue the argument we had over a week ago. “That doesn’t make me any less irritated than I am right now. If you wanna do stupid shit, then you can deal with the consequences.”

The strong hands that previously held my waist fall to my thighs limply, the warm skin repeatedly moving up and down the bareness of my legs. His stiffness beneath me hadn’t gone down, and I could tell it was hard for him to focus on anything else.

“Baby…”Rafe spoke to me softly, the sweetness in his voice doing nothing to move me. I fought the urge to roll my eyes at him, mouth twitching in annoyance. “Can we not do this right now? I just wanna spend time with you, I don’t wanna fight.”

“I’m not fighting with you. You asked if I was mad and I answered your question.” I shrugged again, hands falling from his shoulders to rest in my own lap.

The blonde kisses his teeth loudly, eyes glaring up at me in annoyance as I stared back down blankly. After a few seconds of our locked gazes battling against each other, the man beneath me all but tosses me off his lap.

I watch him stand up from the leather couch and walk out of the room, low grumbling barely audible as he slams the door behind him. My lips purse at the wooden frame across the room, the sound of the bathroom door down the hall slamming just a few seconds later.

“What a drama queen…” I whisper to myself.

The vibration of Rafe’s phone catches my attention, the rhythmic buzzing loud against the fabric of the seat next to me.

Fiona.

My eyebrows furrowed together at the sight of the contact lighting up on the screen, the name completely unfamiliar to me. I watch the device ring, and ring, and ring until it goes dark again. The reflection of my puzzled face staring back at me as I look down at the inky black of the screen. A few seconds of pure silence go by before the phone is brought back to life by another notification of a missed call from the “Fiona” contact.

I picked up the phone and entered the passcode, my birthday, fingers immediately taking me to the messages app at the bottom of the screen.

My face felt stuck in a perpetual state of confusion, brows drawn together in the middle of my forehead as I scrolled through the months worth of messages with the stranger.

“I had a great time last night :)” “Can’t wait to see you again” “Did I leave my lipgloss at your place” “Those were my favorite pair, Rafe! You’re paying for new ones!”

I didn’t think my jaw could drop any further as I scrolled through the countless explicit exchanges taking place over the months I was gone for school, the most recent being a couple weeks before I returned for summer break.

Blankly staring down at the screen of my boyfriend’s phone, I feel the gears in my brain stop turning for a moment. It’s as if my mind had completely frozen at the sight of the text messages. It felt as if my heart stopped as well, the only thing keeping my body from completely dropping being the anger that rose from the soles of my feet to the ceiling above me.

The sound of the bathroom door opening down the hall snapped me out of my trance.

Jumping to my feet, I could feel myself practically levitate to the office door, Rafe’s phone gripped tightly between my fingers with the messages still open. I could feel my body shaking in both shock and rage as I waited for him to open the door and face me, not even sure of what I’ll say to him when he does.

As soon as the door opened wide enough for his face to be in my line of sight, I acted instinctively. I watched as the device flew across the room in his direction, the speed and momentum of the throw not allowing Rafe enough time to dodge the flying object.

It hit him on the side of his jaw, and by the sound of the thud it had to have hurt almost as much as it did to read the messages. The phone falls to the floor loudly, screenside down.

“Who the fuck is Fiona?” Is what leaves my mouth without thought, the volume of the question surely loud enough for the entire house to hear if we weren’t alone.

“What the hell is your problem?” He ignores my question, hand raising to sooth the section of his face that I assaulted with his own phone. “Are you insane?”

“Rafe, who the fuck is Fiona?” I repeated myself. “Why is she calling your phone, and why are there pictures of your dick in her phone?”

Rafe once again ignores my questions, instead leaning down to pick his phone up from the floor. His eyes flash back up at mine with a look I wasn’t expecting as he looks at the open messages on the screen.

“Did you go through my fucking phone?” He wears an expression of irritation and I almost lunge at him, fingers twitching from my lack of action.

“Did I go through your phone…” I repeat to myself in disbelief. “Yes, I went through your phone. Now, why is there some random white girl calling your phone and talking about how much she misses you in your messages?”

The blonde stares at me in silence, my questions sitting heavy in the air between us.

“I haven’t spoken to her in over a month.” He finally says after a minute of stillness in the room. “You were the one that said we were on break, so why are you mad?”

I scoffed at him and threw my hands up in the air out of frustration. Why am I mad? Is he stupid?

“I know we were on break, Rafe! That doesn’t mean you can go out an fuck other girls and have them calling your phone like they know you, or something!”

“Then what does it mean, Laia?” He steps away from the open doorway and towards me. Rafe’s broad frame looms over me as he stares down at me expectantly. He tilts his head to the left as he awaits my answer, eyebrows lifting just the slightest amount. “Did you think it meant that only you got to go out and explore other options while I sat in the house being bitter and jealous for nine months?”

My lips felt glued together and unable to part for a response. He was kind of right and it was killing me inside.

I was the one who said we should go on break. I was the one that said he shouldn’t feel trapped by some girl living hundreds of miles away. He didn’t even want to go on break, but I gave him no other opinion. It probably wouldn’t have happened if I never forced us to do such a thing, but that didn’t make me any less angry.

I don’t know what he assumed I meant by “break,” but it definitely wasn’t that. I didn’t give any guys my attention while I was away because I knew I had Rafe at home, I just didn’t want an extra thing to worry about while I was trying to focus on my studies and campus social life. I surely didn’t have sex with anyone else; something I was expecting Rafe to refrain from as well.

“I’m aware of what a break is, Rafe. I never expected you to sit here being miserable waiting for me to come back, but I definitely wasn’t expecting you to fuck other girls and think I’d be okay with that?”

“I don’t really care if you’re okay with it or not.” He says, shoulders rising and falling nonchalantly. “We were on a break–at your request, by the way. We talked, we fucked; now it’s over. What’s the problem?”

“You fucked her, Rafe!” I exclaimed, exasperation filling my voice as I refrained from pulling my own hair out. “You fucked her, and you still have her number in your phone. You say it’s ‘over,’ but she’s still calling you. So either, you never told her that you have a girlfriend and she still thinks you’re available to do whatever, or you’re still fucking this girl. Maybe, you’re waiting for me to go back to school so you can call her up and get your dick wet when I’m not there!”

Rafe shoves me back violently at the sound of the accusation and I nearly trip over my feet as I try to catch myself. The older man barely gives me time to recover before advancing me into the wall behind us, a large hand reaching up to grip my soft cheeks.

His blue eyes were stormy as he stared down at me, jaw just as tight as the grip he had on my face between his fingers. I could feel his nails leaving creasents in the skin but he doesn’t let up, the sight of me wincing leaving him unmoved.

“I’m a lot of things, Laia.” Rafe sounded eerily calm as he spoke, but the undertone of darkness did not go unnoticed. “You can call me a piece of shit, a drug addict, unstable; I don’t care. But thing you won’t call me is a fucking cheater. Do you understand?”

I was unable to speak or nod my head as he gritted out the last three words, the grip on my face leaving me immobile.

“You don’t get to be mad at me because of a choice that you made for the both of us. Maybe I’m an asshole for fucking her, but you don’t get to be mad about it and you don’t get to accuse me all this shit just because you don’t like it.”

“Block her.” I raised my hand to yank his own away from my face. I pointed down to his phone which had finally gone dark from inactivity. “Block her and delete her number right now.”

Rafe stared at me blankly for a moment before raising his phone into his field of vision. I watched as he deleted her number and blocked her on every platform they’d become friends on.

Shoving the device back into his pocket, he returns his sights to me. I crossed my arms in response and leaned back into the wall behind me.

“You are an asshole for that.” I pointed to the diamond ring on my finger as I spoke, the gems glistening in the sunlight shining through the open windows around the room. “We made a promise to each other, Rafe, and you broke it. Break or not, that isn’t okay. We haven’t even taken that step yet, but you’re doing it with other girls? I’m allowed to be mad about that.”

Pushing past him, I take long strides to exit the study. I hear Rafe curse behind me but he doesn’t follow, the only set of footsteps echoing throughout the manor being my own.

In the years that Rafe and I had been together, we never had sex. Sure, Rafe had done it before we started dating, and clearly has been doing it recently, but that was with other girls. He was the first guy, and only guy, I’d ever spoken to. I haven’t lost my virginity yet simply because I’m not ready. We’ve done a lot of other things, but that was one thing I hadn’t crossed off.

As much as I love my boyfriend, I just can’t do something like that with him yet. I’ve promised myself to him fully, and I don’t regret that, but I don’t want to regret giving him something so important to me when he thinks doing things like that is okay.

I shouldn’t have to question whether I trust him enough, but I do, and it scares me.

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #drew starkey #outer banks #rafe cameron x kook!reader #rafe cameron x oc #obx fanfiction #obx1 #obx2 #rafe cameron x pogue!reader #dark rafe cameron #dark!rafe cameron #dark fic #obx3 #obx x reader

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mademoisellegush · 9 months

Text

Enver Gortash, né Flymm: a tentative timeline

OR: I try to make sense of whatever the fuck is up with the Dark Urge's oiliest ex-fwb

enver flymm lives with his parents, sally and dravo flymm in the lower city, cobblers for generations, etc. he tinkers a lot, "traps and mechanisms", described as "needy, foolish, wicked, demanding attention, very crafty, smart boy - too smart" "He was always a little monster. Nasty to the core. He would've torn me and Dravo apart with his whining, his demands, the never-ending racket of him!" (note: they note that they made enver feel powerless, and this would have been the inciting incident that made him feel justice= revenge and fear)

the parents owe money to The Guild, the criminal organization that basically ran Baldur's Gate behind the scenes (everyone either owing them money or getting kickback / blackmail from it)

a warlock shows up and offers money for Enver. they sell their son to said warlock.

Enver seems to have changed his name then, either the warlock doing it or him denying the flymm name?

warlock then brings Enver to the House of Hope - I assume Raphael might have been his patron? which would mean raphael wanted enver from the start. Nubaldin, who used to work in the prison of the House of Hope, calls him "a mischievous little blot of a boy, who slipped through his fingers"

at some point during his stay in the prison of the House of Hope, Enver figures out about the Crown of Karsus held in Mephistopheles' vault. he escapes the house of hope

back in faerun's plane, he starts moving against the Guild. There's a report to Nine-Fingers, Guildmaster, of "upstart smuggler Enver Gortash making inroads on the illicit arms trade in the chionthar valley", though states it's more like "annexation", replacing the Knights of the Shield and the Zhentarim. definitely had a grudge to bear against them lol

Notes that seem to be from somwhere in this period of time:

"lavender scented diary of lady wisteria jannath" where hes like. seducing this old pariar for the diamond ring worth more than her mansion.

a letter to franc, a now deceased arms dealer, where hes like being a freak about how "weapons distributions continues like a parent saving their drowning child: swimmingly" and also how he loves "any man willing to birth a little more slithering wet malice into the world"

1482 DR (for sure, from dialogue with Karlach saying it's been ten years), he's selling Karlach (who looked up to and liked him !) to Zariel in order to get the prototype for his Steel Watchers. because i think he can't be satisfied with what he actually has, he wants *everyone* to like him, through being terrified of him and his weapons.

at some point, meets with the Dark Urge and ally together. they steal the crown of karsus with halsik's help. the Absolute hoax is put into motion

they get ketheric and myrkul in on it, after the crown heist, by digging isobel up so she can get necromanced.

Gondians fit here (as the note by Vance Farnol places it)

not too long before the game (at most a year? two?), orin poisons and tadpoles the Dark Urge and goes to Ketheric and Gortash to act as Bhaal's Chosen. Dark Urge becomes a test subject chew toy for Kressa Bonedaughter at Moonrise.

gortash tadpoles his parents "months" before the game, as sally flymm states if you talk to her.

My question: when did Enver Gortash find the Emperor/Balduran and bring him back under the domination of the Elder Brain, as part of taking down the Knights of the Shield? Or when he and the Dark Urge had acquired the Crown? does anyone have a screenshot of the interrogation sequence between those two?

(note: the emperor has a devnote for the emotions the Voice Actor was supposed to express when gortash proposes an alliance thats like. Yeah he's lying but i hate his guts, and you could always betray him first)

#baldurs gate 3 #bg3 spoilers #enver gortash #dark urge #im so normal about this game and its timeline im soooo normal #i wanna look at orin's whole thing too shes my joker girlfriend

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sonik-kun · 4 months

Text

"If Jiang Cheng is all about debts, he should repay his debts to Wen Qing and Wen Ning!"

What debts? The two were from a sect that decimated his own. Be it willingly or not, they occupied the burned remains of his sect and helped the war effort on the Wen side (whilst assisting WWX and JC, but bear in mind, WQ only did it begrudgingly due to the risks associated with asissiting them. It's funny that y'all would jump to her defence whilst shitting on JC when she was in the exact same position he was in btw. But that's a debate for another day~).

Expecting him to pay a debt to the people that were, to at least some degree, complicit in numerous genocides is pretty messed up.

Even then, JC DID vouch for them to express his gratitude for helping him and WWX to escape and get their parent's remains back. But the other leaders shut him down when he did and scoffed at him. I feel like I've said this so many times on here, but he was in no position to argue any further on the matter. Especially when a more established sect leader like LXC was shut down, too.

As for the core transfer that he didn't consent to, how can he thank someone for that when he never knew it had happened in the first place?? Or asked for, for that matter?? The whole thing made him feel shitty anyway when he found out about it.

WQ and WWX, although both had good intentions, still had no right to experiment on him like that and keep this very invasive secret from him for so long, too. You can't just do something for someone without them knowing or consenting and expect them to repay that "debt" when you find yourself in a pinch. That's kinda like blackmail and is very coercive.. Something WWX and the Wen sibs are certainly not..

Then there's the situation with WN. Sure, he could be thankful for WN helping to get him to safety and treating his wounds (which, see my earlier point, JC did express gratitude.) But that opportunity kinda all fizzled out when WN killed JZX (I know it was an accident due to him being under the influence of DC but let's be real. That resentment is going to be there. Espeically since the topic greatly upsets JL soooo).

Even all that aside, you seriously can't expect JC to "repay his debts" and help WN and WQ out of that situation when the whole CW was against them. Helping them was suicidal and would bring on the wrath of the other major sects. And we all saw how that went for WWX (as JC rightly predicted)..

Had JC sided with the Wens and took them in to "pay his debts," he would have dragged the whole of his sect into the siege that happened soon after. This would mean more innocents would have been involved, and it would be the destruction of Lotus Pier all over again (and quite possibly the destruction of the Jiang, too). JC had to prioritise his own people. He would be a shit leader otherwise.

I feel as though some of y'all put some unrealistic expectations on JC when assessing his character. Especially when you compare him to the others in the story (returning back to my point I made earlier about him and WQ and how similar they both are).

On the topic of "debts" though, I would also like to argue that doing a good deed out of the kindness of your heart shouldn't be seen as a debt. And if you do something with the expectation that someone would do something for you back in kind, wouldn't that make you a shitty person? Is that what you're implying the Wen sibs are (or should be) ? Self-serving people who only help others if something is to be gained? 🤨

But what about the "debt" JC goes on about, you might ask? Oh, you mean the PROMISE that WWX made HIMSELF? That he would stay by JC's side? And be his subordinate? To fulfil his role as promised and expected of him?

That wasn't a debt.

WWX construed it as being one, but it doesn't fit the criteria, honestly. What WWX had was an obligation. He made that promise himself, and JC held him to it. It wasn't one JC forced him into as some form of servitiude, nor was it made in return for bed and board or something.

We know JC isn't truly about holding debts over others. If he was, he would have dangled his own sacrifice over WWX and used that to guilt trip him instead. Or force him to pay him back in kind. But he never did. Why? Because he loved WWX, and he didn't want him to feel "indebted" to him. Especially when WWX revealed his feelings of "letting go and moving on" to him.

You could go on forever about debts and who owes who what, but the thing is, each of these characters have hurt eachother in one way or another that at this point, the notion of who owes what doesn't matter anymore. The situation is far more complex than that. That's why all "debts" were dropped at the end, and JC and WWX just moved on. I feel that was the message MXTX tried to convey in her work. About moving on and letting go of grudges. Perhaps JC antis should take on that advice? And move on too?

#canon jiang cheng #jiang cheng #jiang wanyin #mo dao zu shi #mxtx mdzs #mdzs #the untamed #the grandmaster of demonic cultivation #again not character bashing here #but looking at things from JCs pov i can see why he wouldn't want to help them tbh #we cant all be crazy heroes like our mc 😂#and thats okay #we all have our priorities #wwx prioritised the lives of the persecuted and jc priotised the lives of his sect and his remaining family (and arguably the cw too)#and both are valid #enough talking about debts when none existed in the first place

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dairy-farmer · 2 months

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Hmm Jason having some weird oedipal feelings where he wants to kill Bruce and make Tim his mommy...

!!!!!!!!!!!!! yesssssssss!!! i love the idea of jason sort of harboring maternalistic attachment for tim. before jason debuts as red hood, when he's still stalking bruce and staking out gotham and learning everything he can about the new robin. that's when jason finds out about how bruce and his new little robin are fucking.

little timmy drake is sleeping with bruce wayne and they think no one knows. it makes sense why they think it, they're good at covering their tracks and acting somewhat normal around each other when people are around. but jason has figured them out and its because he happened to stumble across them in some hidden little rooftop they thought was far enough away from patrol no one would notice. jason has seen bruce press some button in his gauntlet, likely for it to temporarily lock their location in one place before grappling to a distant rooftop and climbing in the top floor of a department store. when jason had first spotted them he'd thought it was some cache they were stopping in to resupply. only for him to grapple down and peek in the windows and be greeted by the sight of bruce bending his robin over a dusty wooden crate. the top level of the uptown department store was apparently meant for storage twenty years ago. it housed mannequins, crates where merchandise was shipped and heavy floor furniture to be shipped out to homes of customers. but then a fire had broken out one night. it hadn't spread but the damage to the top floor had been done and so the owners of the entire building had just decided to board up all doors and staircases leading to the top floor, allowing it to collect dust. however, they hadn't considered the rooftop access as being the one way two vigilantes looking to fuck could break in.

so unlike the others, jason is aware that bruce and tim's relationship isn't all 'wholesome' as the rest of the family would like to believe. and it could be such prime blackmail. it would be perfect as something to use against bruce while jason enacts his plan to ruin his life.

but...something stops him. and jason knows what it is.

jason has always had these weird....feelings about all those socialites, models, and women bruce would bring home. jason is...WEIRD about the women bruce sleeps with. that whole thing jason had with talia was evidence enough because she hadn't even been jason's type but he'd fucked her anyway, if only because bruce had had her first. and for awhile after he'd been resurrected jason had sort of had some weird emotions about her, an odd...clinginess because he'd been stuck on her lowering him into the pit, helping breath life into him again like the waters of the lazarus pit had been the water of her womb...

it's clear jason is a little fucked in the head about women. he's got mommy issues galore and a disturbing attachment to people bruce has fucked. at least he's not like dick who is still in denial about HIS psycho sexual issues despite the fact that dick only ever wants to hookup with girls that remind him of bruce.

so tim fucking bruce...even though that should have alarm bells ringing given tim's age because jason would never find it acceptable for any other creepy old man to shove their dick into teen pussy and given the fact that bruce sleeping with his kid is all kinds of fucked up...still...jason never says anything. he just buckles down when he gets an alert about the little tripwire he set up to alert him of bruce and tim going back to that little attic of theirs. at first jason's obsession stemmed from wanting to be closer to bruce by sharing a partner, wanting to deepen their connection by fucking the same hole. but...then something shifted.

as jason watched, the more he listened, the closer attention he paid to little timmy drake. something...something about him just held so much more potential. talia wasn't the kind of mother jason wanted. selina was too in her own head and got all kinds of uncomfortable about kids. jason's pool was limited but...tim. there was just something so right about him, so fitting. and the longer jason watched the more he wanted.

but bruce doesn't share. he isn't very willing to part with a tight little hole that takes his cock so good while gasping into his mouth.

but....god does jason want this. he wants warm hands carding through his hair and stroking his back while he fucks into a pink, puffy, sloppy little hole while praises get pressed to his cheek. it's what he deserves.

and if bruce is what is standing in the way of it...then maybe jason should amend his plans.

#answered asks #asks #anonymous

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pacifymebby · 1 year

Note

Could I make a request about the peaky blinders reaction to you getting kidnapped or you dying

I really liked this idea and i might try to turn at least one into a full imagine!

Tommy

🌿 His first instinct will be to expect the worst - he will assume you're dead, even if he knows you're no use to your kidnappers dead.

🌿 So he'll be angry and grieving, he'll have that moment where he struggles for self-control, he'll have his gun pointed at his head, eyes closed, thinking that this time this is it

🌿 But it won't be it because whether you are dead already or about to be killed he has to bring justice to your murderers. If you die, there will be no survivors.

🌿 Tommy would go insane. Internally he'd shut down, his emotions and his clinical thinking fighting one another in such a way that they drive him to the very edge of sanity

🌿 luckily this is actually a place where Tommy functions quite well. He'd take a couple deep breaths, light a cigarette, take his cap and his gun and follow the trail set for him by your kidnappers. He knows he walking into a trap but he doesn't care... he has to get to you.

🌿 In this moment whether or not he lives or dies is of no consequence to him, he just has to get to you, protect you if he can, make things right if he can't.

🌿 Meanwhile, you would be trying very hard to be brave. You know tommy doesnt give in to blackmail or threats so youre almost certain you will die. You dont trust that he knows exactly what he's up against.

🌿 He'd find the place you were being held, it might take him several sleepless nights but he would find it, and when he did he'd storm in killing everyone he sees with shots to the chest, stomach, face... he wouldn't question who he was killing, he'd just kill.

🌿 When he sees that you're not dead he might go on behaving as if you are, so convinced by his own madness that even though you're right there in front of him, he won't snap out of the vengeful haze.

🌿 He'd kill your kidnappers, shooting at them as they took shots at him too, he'd be hit and wounded but wouldn't respond, wouldn't care because in his mind he would still be operating as if he'd lost you.

🌿 it would take your scream, the sound of your voice to snap him out of it. Even when your kidnappers were all dead and it was only you and him, he'd fall to his knees, that gun pointed at his head again, and it would be your voice that brought him out of it.

🌿 Luckily he'd have already fired all his bullets, so when his finger pulls the trigger you just hear the clicks and no shots.

🌿 When he opens his eyes you've managed to drag yourself to him, your hands are tied behind your back but that doesn't stop you leaning into him, pressing your forehead to his cheek, trying to show him you're there, you're real.

🌿 He would finally understand, he'd be overcome with relief but he'd still be distant, unable to accept that he'd nearly lost you, but that you were alright, that he had a second chance.

🌿 For several days maybe even weeks he would be cautious around you, as if he expects you to be taken from him at any second. Though there might not be any dramatic displays of affection or big romantic gestures, he would show you he loves you... just in quite Tommy ways

🌿 That is to say he wouldn't let you out of his sight unless he had to, and there would always be Peaky Boys watching you.

🌿 At night he would sit up watching you whilst you slept, honestly it would be a little unnerving but I promise you, it's loving.

🌿 He blames himself for what happened to you, he feels completely responsible, even though he is also the only reason you're still alive. He feels terribly guilty for what happened and you know he won't forgive himself, or forget that he let that happen. You often catch him watching you with those guilty, wounded eyes. Like it pains him to look at you because you remind him of what he thinks he did.

Alfie

🐻 When he finds out you've been kidnapped he appears calm, sitting back in his chair... the only give away is that for once he is completely quiet, he isn't saying a word and thats how his men can tell that something is very wrong.

🐻 and something is very wrong... not that Alfie's telling anyone else this but you are his entire world... you're the light of his life...

🐻 Inside he's conflicted, he wants to storm into the address that is given on your ransom note, guns blazing, mindlessly firing rounds into whoever stands between him and his girl, but he isn't stupid. He knows that he can't do that.

🐻 He would feel guilty too, he knows they've only gone after you to get to him, but he also knows that he can't let feelings of guilt get in the way of him saving you

🐻 Now Alfie isn't a man who responds kindly to blackmail, he would never pay a ransom, however, this is you... the thought would occur to him, even if only briefly.

🐻 It would also be the thought of you that would stop him paying it. You're not a piece of jewellery, people can't just put a price on you... you're worth more than money and frankly its just a bit fuckin disrespectful to put a monetary price on your head...

🐻 which is what he opens with when he contacts your kidnappers. They'd try to taunt him, ask if he doesn't want to speak to you.. thinking that you'll cry down the phone to him and beg him to pay up, but Alfie would probably just tsk at them and shake his head

🐻 "not a very bright move that lad, nah you don't wanna let me do that.. might go putting ideas in her head mightn't I, then you would be in trouble..." The real reason he doesn't want to speak to you however is because he knows that if he hears your voice and you get upset it will crack the very thin veil he has put over his emotions, it'll make it very difficult for him to continue to act rationally

🐻 he knows you don't need to hear his voice to know he's going to save you, you're not stupid.... "Nope, nah you just tell her, you just tell my darlin girl that her old man will see her very soon, will you do that for me eh treacle? Well thank you very much, yeah, thank you..."

🐻 And he will see you very soon, he already knows where you are, he could work out from the other voices over the phone exactly who it is thats stolen his girl away and now he's certain, his plan is certain too.

🐻 He'd take his gun with him but he wouldn't really need it, it would all be for show. He'd walk right into the warehouse, into the middle of the room where you were being held. The lads guarding you would be amateurs, as he suspected... the real crooks would be elsewhere, but no matter... this setting will do quite nicely.

🐻 standing in the centre of the room he'd tip his hat to you, shoot you a wink. Then naturally, Alfie being Alfie, he'd launch into a long monologue about how disrespectful it is to put a price on a woman's head. "Thats the fuckin problem with petty criminals these days, no respect..." the young lads who were guarding you would be easy to intimidate with all the usual tricks despite the fact that they'd be much more heavily armed than Alfie.

🐻 "Now what's gonna happen next then right is this, y/n, these delightful young men are going to let you leave with me now right..." When one of the young lads goes to raise his gun Alfie is quicker, shooting him right through the eye in a second. When another lad raises his gun to retaliate Alfie just raises his hand and tsk's again.

🐻 "Wouldn't do that if I were you treacle, nah wouldn't do that..." he'd start explaining how on his way in he'd actually pulled a gas pipe from the wall, not by much but just enough... to start filling this little warehouse up with fuel... he'd point out the barrels of alcohol which line the walls too... "think about it yeah... all that fuel... if you think about it really right, I could have killed us all just now couldn't I... guess we all got lucky eh... now I don't know about you but lads but I'm not really in the mood for Russian roulette, not really much of a gambler myself yeah, I just take the bets yeah... and even then, it's only because I already know who's going to fuckin win... what dya reckon? Reckon I already know who's going to win this?"

🐻 Its tense but they do let you go, one of them shoves you towards Alfie who puts his arm around your shoulder and guides you back across the room, out of the door and just far enough away, that when he pulls the pin from the grenade in his pocket and sends it thrown into the room you've just departed, you aren't scathed. You just feel the heat from the explosion which sends the whole building up in flames.

🐻 Alfie would carry you from the burning building calmly, not even particularly quickly, kissing your forehead and hair as he did.

🐻 Now that he's send the world a message he feels safe in the knowledge that no one will ever make the mistake of threatening you ever again.

🐻 But that won't stop him from insisting that you move in with him, that you come into the office with him too, that you check in with him at a specific time once a day....

🐻 He's going into territorial, ver protective papa bear mode and you know he isn't snapping out of it any time soon.

Arthur

🍂 He'd break down, the moment Tommy informs him what has happened to you, he'd lose control. It would be anger first, that would sweep through his system and take over, that animalistic rage

🍂 Tommy would just stand there watching whilst Arthur smashed the room to pieces, he'd obviously have been expecting this and he also knows that in order to save you, he needs Arthur enraged, but not this much

🍂 Tommy would tell him "save it brother... In a moment when you've calmed down I'm going to tell you who it is thats done this to you and then you and me and John are going to go there and sort this whole thing out... But i need you to be with us eh Arthur? Need you here..." he taps the side of his head on his temple and Arthur watches, hes trying to calm down.

🍂 He knows Tommy's right, he has to be calmer if he wants to save you, but the very fact you need saving at all...

🍂 He feels like its his fault, and suddenly he's not angry at anyone but himself... He should have been there for you, should have been there to protect you, "What kind of man am i if i cant even protect me own fucking woman...."

🍂 Then come the tears, he'd shrink down to the floor, head in his hands, shaking, ugly crying. Tommy would again just watch, waiting for his brother to go through the motions. He'd remind him again that you need him, he'd tell him to close the door on his emotions. "Its what you have to do brother..."

🍂 Arthur would snap, "no Tom thats what you fuckin do, i can't do it, ive tried but i fucking cant do it!" this whole time hes thinking of you, feeling useless feeling like hes letting you down... But when he thinks about you, how scared you must be, how you might be getting hurt...

🍂 He'd snap again, the anger rising up in him... And that would be the sweet spot Tommy was waiting for. He'd grab his brother by the shoulder of his jacket, "Alright Arthur, lets go eh, if you want to kill em, i wont stop you killin em..."

🍂 And thats exactly what Arthur does... Violently. I feel like the very sight of you vulnerable and scared would tip him back over the edge into animalistic rage. He'd beat the men responsible to death, that glaze coming over him, he wouldnt be able to stop even if he wanted to... But he doesnt want to... He wants them to pay for taking you, for threatening you

🍂 Hed be heavy breathing, shaking, ragged and covered in the blood of his enemies when you were returned to him, but you wouldn't mind... Youd want to sooth him out of his violent episode, wrapping your arms around him, cradling his head. Youd end up the both of you covered in blood.

🍂 Arthur would be so ashamed, ashamed for letting any of this happen in the first place, but also affraid that you might feel scared now you've seen him break down like that... You just watched him cave a mans skull in with his fists... You just watched him break ribs and other bones, puncturing internal organs with sheer physical violence.

🍂 But youre not scared of him, not your Arthur... And you'd make sure he knew that, that he knew to you he was the hero who had saved you. Youd kiss him, try to clean the blood from his fsce with your thumbs or your sleeve.

🍂 Hed promise to keep you safe in future and youd joke about how he needs to teach you to land one of those deadly punches. I don't think he'd find your joke all that funny

John

🌼 He won't cry, he'd go white as a sheet and no one would be able to read his expression, they wouldnt be able to work out if it was murderous desire in his eyes or terror. Tommy would open his mouth to speak, to start giving instructions but John would silence him

🌼 Theyd argue, people would quickly realise that john is both vengeful and terrified and therefore volatile and dangerous. Even tommy would realise he needs to change his approach

🌼 "my wife is missing tommy, someones fuckin taken her right... My wife! The mother of my fucking children! So don't you go barking your orders at me yeah im not fuckin takin them!"

🌼 Theyd argue, lots of shouting and intimidating eachother but Arthur would eventually cut in, his arm around John, trying to sooth his little brother and explain that Tommy would get everyone under control.

🌼 And John would eventually settle and accept that fact, that Tommy would sort everything out... But he wouldnt like not being in control, he'd be tense, he'd be argumentative...

🌼 Hed want to go and save you himself but Tommy wont let him, "I'll go John Boy, we send you in there we dont know what you'll say eh?" and John will be even more pissed off and scared then... He'd have tears in his eyes and a searing hatred for his brother then. Hed feel humiliated that Tommy is saying he isnt man enough to protect his own wife...

🌼 So theyd fight again, naturally..

🌼 And Tommy would be even more convinced that John couldnt go in there all guns blazing because he'd start a massacre and Peakys could die.

🌼 But he lets him come with him, he lets him wait outside in the car... Which john doesnt like but is pacified with... "then when we bring y/n out of there you can get her away from there and keep her safe yeah?"

🌼 He'd do his best to be patient, waiting in the car whilst Tommy and his brothers are inside but he can't sit still, can't just sit around waiting... He knows he shouldn't but he disobeys tommy and follows after them, forcing his way through the building as he goes after you.

🌼 When he burst into the room Tommy rolls his eyes "for fuck sake," arthur just shrugs "told you so brother, fuckin told you..." but John isnt listening because he's seen you, he can see that you've been treated rough by these men and he's going to kill them all

🌼 Whatever plans to negotiate tommy had are swiftly out the window when john opens fire. You have to throw yourself to the ground to make sure you arent caught in the crossfire. Honestly youre lucky you all escape alive...

🌼 John would literally pick you up and sling you over his shoulder running out of the building firing shots behind him as he leaves. Its dramatic, its immature, Tommy is livid

🌼 Tommy would be trying to lecture John in the car when he's driving back to watery lane but John wont be listening, all his attention will be on you. He'll be shaking a bit with the adrenaline of the fight, and the rush of emotion which hit him when he saw you.

🌼 Him holding your face in his hands, saying how precious you are to him, how hes sorry... How he'll never let you out of his sight again.

🌼 He will let you out of his sight eventually, but only after hes taught you how to fire a gun and how to defend yourself.

Bonnie

🍀 Would be petrified, he'd be so confused, so shocked... All the air knocked from his lungs he would be completely winded by the news... He wouldn't be able to breath

🍀 He may even keel over and be sick. His panic would be so strong.

🍀 His usually optimistic disposition would fail him and he'd be unable to think positively, he'd be certain you were going to die.

🍀 He's not usually much of a believer these days but he would pray for you, begging god to protect you, to make sure no harm comes to you

🍀 He won't be able to get his head around it, he won't be able to believe whats happened... Because why would anyone want to kidnap you? Yes he's a blinder but not a prominent one? He just follows orders? He isnt important so neither should you be...

🍀 But the reality is that you've been taken from him, some cunt has stolen his little dove away and he isn't going to lie to himself or try to pretend that you'll be okay...

🍀 His father would try to reassure him "Dont worry Bonnie lad, Tommy will fix this..."

🍀 But Bonnie doesnt want to leave it up yo Tommy Shelby, Bonnie wont settle until he sees you saved himself.

🍀 And in the end Aberama wont be able to deny his son, so they'll go off hunting you down together, tracking your kidnappers moves as though they were a stag.

🍀 And when they find you they find you abandoned, alone in the woods, left there as a decoy for something else, something much bigger than you and Bonnie...

🍀 Which is actually more insulting than had they just kidnapped you... Theyve used you as though youre totally unimportant, cannonfodder... Not that symbolism is on Bonnies mind when he sees you

🍀 Youve been left with bloodied wrists and ankles from being tied with rope, youre shaking and frozen to the bone from being left outside in the cold and damp, and youre terrified, youve tears streaking your cheeks and you look a pained sight to behold.

🍀 Bonnie would rush to you, take his coat off immediately and wrap it around your body, his quick fingers making light work of releasing you from your ties. He'd kiss yoir forehead and stroke your hair, asking you what happened, where youre hurt... Hes so worried about you but so relieved to see you alive

🍀 "Little dove I'm so sorry," he'd sigh, "tell me where it hurts and I'll make it better, I'm so sorry dove..." he would only be able to think about easing your suffering.

🍀He'd have tears in his eyes, holding your face between his palms, he almost wouldn't be able to believe hed been so lucky as to get you back...

🍀 He'd help you up, tuck you under his arm protectively and walk you back to the horses where he'd help you up onto one of them, then ride you back to the settlement. The ride back through the woods he would hold you close you his chest, one arms around your waist at all times. Hed be treasuring the feel of you next to him again.

🍀Back at the settlement hed place you by the fire, get you food and blankets and then he would sit and bathe and then banage your cut wrists and ankles by himself.

🍀 He would be so very gentle and tender with you, the whole time reminding you that you were safe now, that he was going to take care of you.

🍀But on the inside his mind is burning with thoughts of vengence. He wants to find whoever did this to you and kill them for hurting you

🍀And one day that week he leaves you under the watchful gaze of a trusted friend whilst him and his father go off to do some peaky business... When he comes back his shirt has blood stains but when you ask about them all he will say is this... "just peaky business dove, just peaky business that means you dont have to worry about them men ever coming back, they cant come back now dove, you're safe..."

🍀 Almost losing you would make him think again about how much he adores you, how he doesnt ever want to lose you or live without you... He'd probably end up proposing to you at some point, vowing to protect you and your future family.

🍀 Hes going to make you a knife, maybe multiple knives and hes going to teach you how to use it... He is very stubborn about the fact you wont have to, but he wants to be sure just in case.

Isaiah

🐀Similar to Bonnie he wouldn't understand why they'd taken you. He wouldn't know what to do and he'd be so scared.

🐀 He'd also feel like it was all very unfair, that he was being targetted unfairly. His sense of injustice would fuel his anger.

🐀He'd make wild threats, to people who may or may not have had anything to do with your disappearence.

🐀The longer you were missing for the more eratic he would get, his anger peaking at the slightest of challenges.

🐀When it is fianlly uncovered who has you Isaiah doesnt wait for anyones permission to go after you. He doesnt want to make strategic plans he just wants to go and find the bastards who have taken you, and then he wants to put bullets in their heads.

🐀 He'd explain all this to tommy quite clearly. Thered be no arguing with him and tommy wouldnt need to argue with him.

🐀Isaiah storming in on the men who had taken you, threatening to kill them all and shooting a few lads in the head would suit tommys plan to get you out of there just fine, and unlike with John, Tommy trusts that Isaiahs emotion wont cloud his ability to fire a gun or think clearly. Yes he'll be seeing in reds, but he'll be just as sharp.

🐀So Isaiah is allowed to lead, with Arthur and Aberama following, theyd burst in on a blood boiling scene. You tied to a chair, your clothes ripped and torn at, your cheeks streaked with tear stains. Blood on your blouse and your arms... And your kidnappers tormenting you, laughing about groping you and tearing your clothes.

🐀Theyd be distracted by you so it wouldn't take much for Isaiah to get close enough to them to shoot. He'd shoot one of them first, right between the eyes, then he'd start shouting, "right, who wants to keep their balls? Who wants to keep their fucking balls?" then he'd point the gun at another man, firing a shot straight into their balls just to prove his point, "cause whoever you are, that wants to keep their balls, youre gonna need to give us some fucking answers?"

🐀 Aberama will be the one who actually frees you, wraps you up in his coat and helps you to walk whilst Isaiah and Arthur drag out the killings making them painful and slow, making the men pay for what theyve done to you.

🐀Isaiah would definitely get the last one to look you in the eyes and apologise to you, he'd make them beg you for forgiveness, make them beg you to have them spared...

🐀And youre a peaky yourself... Youre not going to show them mercy "give me the gun" Isaiah would hold your hips in place whilst you aimed the gun and shot them in the balls.

🐀He'd be really proud of you for that, really fucking proud, but the second the act is done he'd be taking you out to the car. When he gets you home that evening he's taking the time to care for you. He'd bathe you himself, being extra gentle with you, telling you he loves you, that hes sorry about what you went through...

🐀He wont promise it wont happen again but he will promise to buy you a gun.

Michael

☘️ He would be sitting in the office when he recieves the letter detailing your kidnapping, with the ransom demand.

☘️His face would go grey and pale, his eyes would darken and hed struggle to swallow as he read to the end of the note and fully understood the danger you were in.

☘️ Anyone in the room with him would be able to tell immediately that this had something to do with you, and that it was very very bad.

☘️ His first instinct would be to pay the ransom, he would consider keeping the matter secret from the rest of the family knowing that Tommy never pays ransomes

☘️ But in the end Polly confronts him, she's better at reading her son than he knows and shes snook a read of the letter sent to him.

☘️ She would slap him, talk sense into him. "You can't pay it... If you pay it they'll only ask for more and if theyre asking for more theyll have to threaten you with more... Michael you have to tell Tommy whats happened

☘️So he'd give in, he'd tell Tommy, hed perhaps even admit to his own helplessness "Tommy you have to help me, i dont know what to do... I don't... I dont know what ill do if somethin happens to her... I love her..."

☘️ And tommy knows how that feels, he loved someone that much once, and when she was taken from him he didnt know what to do.

☘️ So he pities his younger cousin and does his best to get you home safe and sound.

☘️ In this instance michael would probably allow himself to come second to Tommy, hed be so lost without you, so worried about you... He'd be terrified for you and as a result wouldn't be able to function properly.

☘️ Tommy would have to remind him to eat and look after himself... "you'll need to be strong if youre going to put a bullet in the men who did this..."

☘️ When it starts taking too long to get you home michael would grow impatient, hed lash out at tommy "This is your fucking fault Tommy! If she dies its your fucking fault!"

☘️ But youre not going to die, youre going to be fine, tommy would have a plan to get you back, not least of all because he knows Michael will be unbearable if he doesnt get you back. That would be a rift that won't heal.

☘️ When they find you Polly would want michael to stay out of it, shed tell him to let Isaiah and Bonnie, Aberama, go to find you. She wouldn't want michael risking his life.

☘️ But michael would, obviously, deny her.. He'd say "Fuck Isaiah, fuck the golds... Shes my wife," and that would be that.

☘️ He'd get himself injured over you probably, hed wind up shot or wounded and youd be just as pissed off with him as polly.

☘️ "you shouldnt have fucking come michael what were you thinking!" "i was thinking about you love, obviously..." "you shouldn't have fucking come here look at you!" "don't be stupid y/n, be quiet... Of course i fucking came..."

☘️ He would get you home, see to it that Polly healed your wounds, that the house servents made up the fires and cooked you a good meal. He'd make promises to keep you safe in future.

☘️ He'd try to quell your temper with a pretty gift.

#peaky blinders imagines #bonnie gold x reader #tommy shelby x reader #arthur shelby x reader #john shelby x reader #peaky blinders headcanon #alfie solomons x reader #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders

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blues824 · 1 year

Note

I kind of want to see the brothers interactions with trainer mc’s Pokémon team who resemble each of them in some way, personality wise I mean

I don’t know every single pokemon in existence, so I will do a basic description of a pokemon.

Lucifer

He is not amused, but is at the same time. The pokemon acts just like him, making sure that none of the others step out of line. Plus, the pokemon makes sure to protect you, just like Lucifer does since you are like a younger sibling to him.

Honestly, when he sees that the pokemon never takes a break, he’s only reminded of himself and his pride. There was a point where the only thing that made him happy was his work, and he feels saddened when the little animal-like creature does the same.

Mammon

You know when your younger sibling copies you and you get annoyed by it? That’s him right there. They both are very protective of you since you are like family to them, but they can both be very annoying at times.

When the pokemon sees you spending a lot of time with Mammon, it gets jealous because you are its trainer and therefore you should be training it. When you spend a lot of time training your pokemon, Mammon gets jealous because his friend is too busy to hang out.

Leviathan

A very shy pokemon that’s exactly like a very shy demon. Probably an electric type pokemon, considering Levi is into electronics, video games, and anime. The two grow attached to each other. It’s not your pokemon anymore, it’s his.

The two like to isolate themselves from everyone besides you. Since you are the pokemon’s trainer, you are able to come close and interact with it and it wouldn’t run away. Same thing goes for Levi. You’re like his younger sibling, so you are able to get close.

Satan

He also likes the pokemon that’s like him. Very reserved unless something sets them off, the two are a duo to be reckoned with. You can always trust Satan to take care of the pokemon while you are gone because he likes its company.

When he sees the pokemon get angry beyond belief, it makes him feel crappy and guilty. He has acted like this before, and most likely will again. It just makes him wonder if he has ever scared you because he let his anger get the best of him. Or are you used to it because of the pokemon?

Asmodeus

He absolutely adores the pokemon who takes after him. They’re just so cute and gorgeous, of course they get along! They both complement each other and compliment each other. Asmo’s Devilgram is mostly just himself and your pokemon posing with each other.

You are very smart, so when you first met the pokemon, you were able to see that it mostly just used its looks to cover up the emotions that were being held together by duct tape. You were able to easily guess that Asmo was the same way, which was surprising for the demon.

Beelzebub

So they’re both sweethearts that eat a lot. The two of them can often be found in the kitchen eating all the food that the pantry has to offer. You often have to scold (not really) them about it, but it always ends up in you laughing.

The two of them are very protective of you and make sure you are safe and away from harm. They have an unspoken bond between them that they both understand. To Beel, you are like his younger sibling; to the pokemon, you are its trainer.

Belphegor

The two of them can be found napping somewhere, and it’s adorable for the brothers to walk in on. Levi, Asmo, and Mammon all have at least 20 pictures of them to use as blackmail against their youngest brother.

Belphie has to admit that he likes having a nap-buddy. It brings him comfort knowing that he’s not the only one who struggles with waking up. They also want to protect you as much as possible (assuming this is after Lesson 16 on Belphie’s part).

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sword-and-lance · 4 months

Text

so I wound up having a whole Thought Process in replying to a fic comment and just

okay fair warning this probably leans heavily on my own interpretations of Cazador and also Astarion and a bunch of the Cazador backstory in particular is pure headcanon

also fair warning there's discussion of abuse and sexual assault in here

BUT

man these two actually have quite a bit in common--the "my Master is an abusive asshole" thing being the big obvious one

also neither of 'em seem to have a great relationship with their families: Astarion never even mentions his in the slightest, ever, so I remain unconvinced that there was anything good there, and Cazador uh

well

Amanita's notes imply that there were only a grand total of like four remaining living Szarrs despite having multiple estates and a huge fuckoff castle smack in the middle of the city and yeah I absolutely headcanon that Cazador had most of them merc'd because none of them did a damn thing while Vellioth--who only married in and who Donnela picked for vampire-ing over her own grandkid because she held Cazador responsible for his dad (her son) going AWOL as a vampire hunter, it's a whole Thing I should really write it down at some point--basically ran the family reputation into the ground with his insistence on indulging his own brutal assholery over anything else (instead of balancing it with blackmail/politics so they don't get Found Out)

so yeah he is fairly obsessed with his family but in the sense that it's his and belongs to him and he gets to own it and shape it and bring it back to how it was when he was a kid and they owned damn near the entire Upper City in one capacity or another

so really no he isn't fond of his family but more the idea of it and being able to control it which is. uh. quite different!

and that kinda leads into my next point that they are both fucking Obsessed with power, "over people" specifically to quote Astarion in-game

I mean after all on Cazador's side of things: that was how Vellioth got to be where he was, that was what Vellioth wielded over him and all the other spawn whenever he decided to torture/sexually assault/etc them as he pleased, and that was how Cazador himself finally got Vellioth killed, too, and turned himself into a full vampire finally--it wasn't dry politics it wasn't law it was just interpersonal trickery wielding Vellioth's personal desires against him, and Cazador not only wanted his own abuser dead but wanted to make damn sure that it never happened again, that no one would ever be able to hurt him like he did

even when it meant hurting other people--LOTS OF THEM in all sorts of horrifying new ways!--to do it

and that's why he really just is not fuckin redeemable by the time we see him: he's molded his entire fucking existence around that notion, he cannot will not trust anyone but himself, he tried over and over with that as a spawn and always got punished for it--his family was not kind, his lone friend died for his kindness, and considering that his general social circle was a bunch of rich people, I'm willing to fuckin wager he probably didn't get any notion of it outside, either, and in fact it probably made it even easier to just think of people in general like things--cattle, even

so all that's left for him is (what has to look to him) like stone-cold objective knowledge that everything sucks, the world is vicious and cruel and the only good things you can have you have to TAKE by force or trickery from someone else and they don't matter, they'll only take from you the second they get a chance

and yeah Astarion clearly had a bit of a similar problem over the past 200-something years, considering--he was also tortured quite extensively for years, despite Cazador genuinely thinking he's being nice about it in an I HAD IT WORSE SUCK IT UP sort of way; he got faced with an utterly impossible task to constantly hunt down prey for his Master while fuckin starving the whole time, and eventually in sheer desperation resorted to literal prostitution only to be met with a very blase okay that works I guess keep it up from Cazador since it wasn't like Cazador really thought Astarion had much in the way of other talents to lure people in and all he cared about was having people lured in

shit, Astarion's entire approval set damn near until the last act of the damn game are just reflecting that mindset--the world is vicious and cruel and the only good things you can have you have to TAKE by force or trickery from someone else

...thing is, Cazador was basically surrounded by enablers and even outside of that is also hellishly stubborn and molded his entire existence around the pursuit of power because he thought that was literally all there was to anything, even to the point of making deals with not just a devil but one of THE devils, one of the Big Boys and one who's pretty damn tricky at that

he was not and is not going to give up on any of his plans, even if someone SOMEHOW gave him a chance to, and if we ignore the whole VAMPIRES EVIL LOL thing for a sec--far as Cazador's concerned, the kind are weak and murdered and tortured by the strong, and that is just how it is. that was how it always was and always would be and he's been surrounded by it literally all his life, personal and political, with basically no evidence to the contrary that doesn't immediately get ruined, whether at his hand or someone else's

if this isn't what he should do in life, then what else is there? just being a horribly broken person for literally eternity or until someone up and stakes him? he can't afford to let this go because it would obliterate his whole fucking identity in the process

...Astarion though at least has the benefit of running around with people who do not in fact enable his FUCK EVERYONE ELSE BUT ME! bullshit, and in fact (can be, anyway) relentlessly kind to him and show him that yes, actually, there is a life beyond what happened to him

there's a whole lotta life beyond it, actually! even while he's trying to "just" be manipulative, because the kind are weak and he can't afford to be weak when his Master HAS to be hunting for him by now, he fuckin fails at that and actually gets attached to the people trying to get him to knock off his assholery--they treat him like an actual person and he actually gets pretty into that despite himself, even though it clearly scares the hell out of him to have to make his own identity over again beyond just...being the flirty vampire

but thing is

he's at least brave enough to try doing it (presuming the non-ascended route--the ascended route he just refuses and falls right into Cazador's own neuroses), and when he's given the chance he takes it despite being terrified of it

he's seen more, he wants more and he's willing to risk himself to get it because it was worth it

Cazador though

lol nah

ultimately he's a coward about doing that exact thing

he's petrified of having nothing left of him if he gives up on what he's doing so he just never even tries and would pretty violently refuse any attempt to make him, for that matter--to him, it can't possibly be worth it

Astarion at least believes a small selection of people would be worth trying for

but Cazador's got none of that because he gave the fuck up on ever finding that and split the world into people he owned and people he would eventually own when he got what he deserved in Ascending after so many years of pure shit--and after his existence had turned into a meaningless morass of violence and horror that he inflicted on literally everyone around him like the walking nuclear fallout of a man that he is

part of being better is wanting to BE better, and (non-ascended) Astarion at least eventually wants to

but Cazador would very literally rather die instead

tl;dr yeah one of these two is a "small pathetic little boy who never amounted to anything"

but it ain't Astarion

#; musing #bg3 #cazador szarr #astarion #cazadorposting #astarionposting #long post #jesus that went on for way too long and probably is HELLA disorganized but #that ain't stopped me before and it ain't gonna stop me now #thank you elysiians on AO3 for prompting this meandering train of thought it was hella fun to do

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grelleswife · 7 months

Note

Damn Doll didn't waste a second to turn on finny and try turning snake against finny 😭 she'd been WAITING to do that.

Doll blindsiding Snake with the shocking revelation of his circus family’s deaths, followed by a biased narrative slandering Finny and the rest of the Phantomhive household, all for the purpose of enlisting him to her vengeful cause:

To be fair, however, their actions shouldn’t come as a surprise; O!Ciel was responsible for the demise of those they held dear. Little wonder that they swore to never forgive him, or that she carried this hatred beyond the grave, as seen in Chapter 196, where she vows to send the Phantomfam to hell to rot with the Noah’s Ark first string members. I’m sure they were plotting Finny’s downfall from the moment they laid eyes on him. 😭

Of course, we readers (and, to a lesser extent, Finny himself) are aware that Doll’s story contains a number of glaring omissions. The circus troupe’s deaths at the hands of the Phantomhive servants were a direct result of their attack on the manor—for example, Finny only “ground [Jumbo] into minced meat” after the fellow tried to bash his head in. Talk about a blood-soaked instance of fucking around and finding out! In addition, the queen wouldn’t have set her Watchdog on the troupe’s heels if not for the numerous child kidnappings they committed at Baron Kelvin’s behest. (Crimes Kelvin essentially blackmailed them into…which is why the circus arc hurts so dang much! Because you empathize with the impossible predicament these characters face! But I digress.)

And, as Theodore realized in this chapter, Doll is perpetuating their family legacy of child exploitation at F.O.L. Orphanage. Her existence is fueled by the blood of Canopus children like Ginny. She worms her way into the orphans’ hearts as a mentor, an older sibling, a friend…while fully aware of the sinister purpose for which they’re being groomed. She has become a monster, not on account of her bizarre unlife, but because of the harm she brings to innocents.

Alas, with tensions running high and Snake left reeling, he might not listen to Finny’s or the F.O.L. kids’ perspective even if they have time to reason with him. We’ll have to endure at least a month of suspense before learning whether the tightrope ties to Snake’s past or the devilish Phantomfam bond prevail. 😫

#kuro asks #kuro spoilers #kuroshitsuji spoilers #kuroshitsuji 205 #kuroshitsuji #freckles #doll #snake #finnian #finny #jumbo #theodore #theo #the f.o.l. kids #tw blood #whoops! somehow my silly quip of an answer turned into rambly semi-coherent meta 😅

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queen-dahlia · 1 year

Text

𝐆𝐢𝐥𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐭 𝐯𝐨𝐧 𝐎𝐛𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐧

𝗠𝗮𝗶𝗻 𝗥𝗼𝘂𝘁𝗲 𝗖𝗵𝗮𝗽𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝟭𝟬

Note: Translation is not 100% accurate. Expect grammatical errors.

// : alternate translation | ⫘⫘ : flashback | 4:4 answer

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

Gilbert: "You have two choices: be my friend or be forced to be my friend."

Gilbert: "I'm going to ask you one more time. I want to be friends with you."

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

Until now, we've become friends just as we were drifting along.

I was only being threatened, regardless of my own will.

(But…)

Emma: "Please be my friend."

(I don't want a relationship that starts with blackmail in my daily life.)

I hold out my hand to Prince Gilbert, suppressing my inner nervousness.

After a few moments of silence, cold fingertips entwined with mine.

Gilbert: "… You've got some nerve to be my friend on your own will."

Gilbert: "Of course I have no reason to say no. I'd be happy to be your friend, but—"

Gilbert: "I hate lies."

He squeezes my hand with a painful grip.

It was so strong that I thought that once he grabbed me, he would never let me go again.

Gilbert: "If you betrayed me after saying you were my friend, I might kill you out of grief."

(Wait, that's not good. I'm in a position to betray Prince Gilbert no matter how I try.)

Even if we are friends, it does not change the position of Rhodolite and Obsidian.

Emma: "… What is this "betrayal" you speak of, Prince Gilbert?"

Gilbert: "Well…"

Prince Gilbert doesn't seem to have any intention of bringing up the betrayal that comes from the difference in position,

There was a pause, as if he were choosing his words.

Gilbert: "That you are no longer you."

Emma: "…?"

(Hey, that's weird…)

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

Gilbert: "If you stay in a place like the court, where your greed is exposed, you will eventually fall."

Gilbert: "I'd like to be able to see them up close and personal."

Gilbert: "I was curious to see how the most beautiful heart in all of Rhodolite would turn out."

Gilbert: "So, my friend. Isn't being your friend the fastest way to be close to you?"

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

(I feel like Prince Gilbert wanted me to change.)

(He’s interested, but maybe that means he doesn't want me to change.)

Even here, Prince Gilbert is inconsistent.

Gilbert: "Oh, and..."

Gilbert: "Additionally, you will die instead of me." // Add to that the fact that you'll die in my place."

Emma: "… But—"

When I tried to talk back, he held my hand so tightly that my voice leaked out.

Gilbert: "I'm a lot stronger than you think."

Gilbert: "… I may not be as strong as other people, but I can handle a surprise attack on my own."

Gilbert: "If you're my friend, you won't betray me, will you?"

His red eye, which usually have no emotion, sway slightly.

It's a threatening word, but there's a worry unbefitting of a prince of an enemy country. // The words sound like threats, but there is a concern in them that is uncharacteristic of a prince of an enemy country.

(I don't think he'll admit that he's "worried", but... it makes my heart flutter.)

Emma: "I understand."

Emma: "… The next time something like this happens, I will believe in Prince Gilbert."

Gilbert: "Then, it's a promise."

Prince Gilbert, with his back bent, kisses me lightly on the cheek.

The heat slowly spread to my face from the touch of his lips. // The heat slowly spread to my face as I felt his lips on my cheeks.

(I've been asked to kiss him on the cheek before…)

Emma: "O-Oh, is this how it's done in Obsidian?"

Gilbert: "No way. We don't have a culture like that, and we wouldn't do it for anybody, so why would we?"

(… Then why…)

Gilbert: "Look, Little Bunny too."

With a tap, his index finger is pointed at his cheek.

(It's not an atmosphere that can be refused...)

(... No, don't be strangely conscious of this. For Prince Gilbert, this must be a sign of affection.)

I willingly pressed my lips against Prince Gilbert's cheek.

Emma: "Is this okay?"

Gilbert: "Yes, but your face is so red. It's just a friendly kiss, but you're so naughty." // "Yes, but your face is so red. It's just a friendly kiss, but it's so naughty."

Emma: "I'm just not used to it!"

Gilbert: "Then do you want to do it every day until you get used to it?"

Emma: "… Please give me a break."

(Why do I feel so nervous when all I do is kiss you on the cheek?) // (Why do I feel so uneasy just by kissing you on the cheek?)

Gilbert: "That's right. As a sign that I've gotten closer to you, Little Rabbit, you can call me Gil from now on."

Emma: "I can't."

Gilbert: "Ehh... a nickname would have been more like a friend."

Emma: "Before we became friends, Prince Gilbert was a guest of honor."

(I wonder if people who are close to him call him "Gil.")

(... I wonder. It's like something just tugged at me–) **

Gilbert: "Oh well."

Prince Gilbert smiled, picked me up, and started walking towards the entrance of the chapel.

The stinging air and the suffocating bloodlust had disappeared before I knew it.

══════════════════

From the next day on, Prince Gilbert remained with me as before.

However, he had plans for this afternoon, so we decided to go our separate ways.

(While Prince Gilbert is away...)

As usual, I pushed open the door to Prince Chevalier's library.

I thought about reporting, but there were two figures in the library today.

Emma: "Oh, Clavis!"

Clavis: "Oops, did you come here to meet my brother? I didn't think spring would come to this unsociable man…"

Emma: "More than that! I have a lot of things I want to ask you, Clavis."

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

Emma: "Clavis, is he really betraying Rhodolite!?"

Luke: "Maybe. Don't you know there are rumors that he might be an Obsidian spy?"

Luke: "I don't know what you're thinking, but Clavis was responsible for the assassination attempt on Chevalier the other day."

Luke: "He's working with some of the anti-monarchy faction, and he's sending a number of assassins after him."

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

Emma: "I'll ask straight to the point."

Emma: "Is there anything you are guilty of?"

Clavis: "No?"

He should have known what I wanted to ask him, but his answer was refreshingly immediate.

He is puffing his chest out as if to say that he really has nothing to be guilty of.

Clavis: "Well, think about it? If I'm really betraying Rhodolite…"

Clavis: "This guy won't shut up now, will he?"

Chevalier: ". . . . . ."

Emma: "… That's true, too."

(There's no way someone like Prince Chevalier hasn't noticed Clavis' evil deeds.)

If he were a traitor in the true sense of the word, he would have received the punishment he deserves by now.

(There is no way he would claim to be a traitor so openly to me as well.)

Clavis: "But, yes..."

Clavis: "I wouldn't mind betraying Rhodolite for my evil deeds."

Emma: "… Are you really saying that with pride?"

Clavis: "Ah. Because I want to be a prince who can act not for the sake of the country but for the people."

Emma: ". . . . . ."

Clavis: "What is right for one person is evil for another. Isn't that what the world is like?"

(… I still don't see how helping the anti-monarchy faction is connected to Clavis's view of justice.)

It may be too early to condemn it as "bad."

(As Belle, maybe this is the point where I need to find out.)

Chevalier: "… Nonsense."

Prince Chevalier, who was sitting in his usual chair reading a book, takes a languid breath.

Chevalier: "I don't care about my foolish brother. You are here to report, aren't you?"

Emma: "Yes, but..."

Chevalier: "I don't care if he listens. Tell me what happened last night."

Emma: "Then—"

Thinking back on what happened at Clavis's secret soirée, I spun my words in detail.

I'm a bit embarrassed about what happened in the chapel, so I thought I'd limit myself to a brief report,

When Prince Chevalier heard everything, his brows furrowed.

Chevalier: "What did you get from the soirée?"

Emma: "What did I …get?"

Emma: "The fact that there are people who are anti-monarchy and that Obsidian is trying to use that faction..."

Emma: "I think what I have gained is a proper understanding of the situation that Rhodolite is in."

(… And also Prince Gilbert’s heart.)

Clavis: "Hmm... why?"

Emma: "Why..?"

Clavis: "Why did the World Disaster bother to teach you such a thing?"

I was taken aback by Clavis's muttering.

(Prince Gilbert's actions always have a meaning. But what was the meaning of last night's incident...?)

Clavis: "I thought it was for the same purpose as with Chevalier—to instill a sense of distrust towards me…"

Chevalier: "It's not connected to distrust. I think there's another purpose."

Emma: ". . . . . ."

Emma: "I feel that Prince Gilbert... was testing me somehow."

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

Emma: "Is that how you do things?"

Gilbert: "You say that as if you're criticizing me, but I have good intentions."

Emma: "… Your "good intentions" are to bring war to this country?"

Gilbert: "To try to change something, you have to make sacrifices."

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

Emma: "Knowing that I would definitely oppose him, he proudly broached the subject of business right in front of me."

Emma: "… I don't know how to put it into words, but—"

(I think he was enjoying my reaction.)

Chevalier: "I think you might be right on target."

Prince Chevalier gets up from his chair and puts the book he was holding back on the shelf.

Chevalier: "It seems more likely that they are using you to make some kind of judgment." // "Apparently, there is a high possibility that he is using you as a basis for making decisions."

Clavis: "What do you mean by judging?"

Chevalier: "I don't know."

Clavis: "… You…"

Chevalier: "But there must be a reason why it should be you and not some ordinary woman."

After picking up a new book, Prince Chevalier sat down again.

Emma: "… I'm a normal person, except for the fact that I'm Belle."

Chevalier: "Then why were you chosen as Belle?"

Clavis: "Is it because Sariel fell in love at first sight?"

Chevalier: "It was probably because she was described as "the woman with the most beautiful heart in all of Rhodolite."

Emma: "Oh…"

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

Gilbert: "I was curious to see how the most beautiful heart in all of Rhodolite would turn out."

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

Chevalier: "He's trying to make some kind of judgment about a woman with a beautiful heart, not just any woman out there."

Chevalier: "… That's about all I can say right now."

(The important thing is "what kind of judgment am I trying to make?")

(I wonder what Prince Gilbert wants to see through me.)

Emma: "I'd like to find out."

Chevalier: ". . . . . ."

While Prince Chevalier snickered, Clavis, unusually, had his smile fade away.

Clavis: "… I'm feeling a bit uneasy at this point."

Chevalier: "In that case, you should investigate the area around the anti-monarchy once again."

Clavis: "Are you going to keep an eye on me all the time?"

Chevalier: "It's possible you're not looking hard enough. Check back to see if there's really any connection with Obsidian."

Chevalier: "Eyepatch seems to have said and acted like he was about to start a business, but it wouldn't be strange if he had already started."

(... That's not true...)

(... I'd like to believe that's not true.)

I was frustrated that all I could do was pray.

Clavis: "I don't like it when you make me work for you, but I have no choice."

Clavis: "I'll go over it again; you don't mind if Nokto comes along, do you?"

Chevalier: "Yeah, but not Jumbo."

Clavis: "Why?"

Chevalier: ". . . . . ."

(Why not Luke?)

Prince Chevalier said nothing more, and Clavis simply shrugged his shoulders in an exaggerated manner.

Clavis: "It seems we're done here. Emma, I'm glad you're here. Would you like to have dinner with me today?"

Emma: "Sounds good. If you'd like, please."

(I should be all done reporting for the day, too.)

(… Oh, yeah…)

Emma: "I'm sorry. There was one last thing I wanted to ask you."

Clavis: "What?"

Emma: "Maybe it's not something I should just casually ask..."

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

Well-dressed man: "Miss, do you think you can have a serious conversation with them?"

Well-dressed man: "The royalty who left more than a thousand of their own people captive to die on the day of the bloodstained rose day!"

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

Emma: "Is it true what they say?"

(I've always wondered about that.)

Clavis: "Ah."

With a suspicious smile, Clavis affirms.

Clavis: "The Obsidians offered us to surrender in exchange for a thousand prisoners they had taken."

Clavis: "Do you think this will give away the country?"

"This," Clavis pointed to Prince Chevalier, who was continuing to read a book.

Clavis: "We were on the battlefield at the time, and we were in direct command."

Clavis: "Leon and Chevalier each have the final decision on the battlefield."

Clavis: "At that time, Chevalier's own decision to reject the other party's request..."

Clavis: "As a result, the enraged Obsidian commanders killed all the prisoners."

Clavis: "… Innocent civilians, including women and children, were sacrificed."

Emma: ". . . . . ."

Clavis: "You can understand why the mere sight of Chevalier's face would make some people want to kill him, can't you?"

(… If it hadn't been for Prince Chevalier's ruthless choice, Rhodolite would probably no longer exist today.)

(Wrong choice for a person, but right choice for a country… That's what it must be.)

I said it was possible to bridge the gap through communication, not violence, but...

This resentment and hatred will surely never go away.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

Gilbert: "Royalty is not absolute justice, so you are the evil one here, you know?"

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

(… By now, Prince Gilbert's words are sinking in.)

Clavis squints his eyes as if he is staring somewhere far away.

Clavis: "… The past will never go away no matter what we do."

Clavis: "On top of that, we have to choose what is best for the future."

══════════════════

Gilbert: "Little Rabbit."

Emma: "Whoa!?"

Blood-colored eye suddenly filled my vision.

Leaning back, Prince Gilbert deliberately lowered his eyebrows.

Gilbert: "What's with that reaction?"

(… I was surprised.)

(You got me thinking about yesterday again.)

As I took a breath to clear my mind, Prince Gilbert's smile deepened for some reason.

Gilbert: "Even though I and Little Rabbit are in such a close relationship, I still get hurt."

Emma: "What's with all the such-and-such?"

Gilbert: "Oh, you don't remember? That night, when we embraced so passionately—"

Emma: "Please don't use confusing words!"

Gilbert: "Oh, did I make you so flustered? What were you imagining?"

Emma: ". . . . . ."

Gilbert: "Ahaha!"

(Prince Gilbert is in a very good mood today!)

He is in a great mood, even yesterday, as Prince Gilbert was in such a good mood that he was humming a tune.

Gilbert: "Well, anyway, what are your plans for the rest of the day?"

Emma: "Nokto is going on a business trip, so I will accompany him."

Gilbert: "Is your leg okay now?"

Emma: "Yes. I saw the doctor this morning, and he said I should be fine to walk normally."

Gilbert: "Then it's fine. When will the negotiations end?"

Emma: "I am told he will return to the court around evening."

Gilbert: "I see. Well, then—"

(… Oh.)

Suddenly, I stop, and Prince Gilbert stops alongside me.

Ahead of me was a bureaucrat from the domestic faction with so many books that he almost lost sight of what was in front of him.

(I think that person was...)

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

Bureaucrat: "Tell me why that woman is here."

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

I remember the cold look he gave me before.

I hesitated for a moment, but then I mustered up my courage and stepped forward.

Emma: "Hello. Are you going to visit Prince Leon now?"

When I approached him, the bureaucratic man rolled his eyes and then expressed his disgust.

Bureaucrat: "... Yes. Well then—"

Emma: "I'm here to help."

I reached out to support a pile of books that were leaning and about to fall down…

Bureaucrat: "Don't touch it!"

He shakes my hand away, and a stack of books falls to the ground.

The books scattered on the floor hit my leg, and it hurt.

Bureaucrat: "Ah…"

Emma: "I am sorry. I've startled you."

(I should have approached him more carefully.)

I gather up the books scattered around my feet and rearrange them into a neat pile.

By the time the man who had been standing there stunned came to his senses, I had finished collecting all the books.

Bureaucrat: "I'm sorry too... but I don't need your help."

Emma: "I understand. Please take care."

When I hand him the collected books, the man takes them awkwardly and leaves without further ado.

Nothing has changed.

Yet, strangely, my chest feels relieved.

(I've given up even talking to him before because I was afraid I'd make him uncomfortable…)

Gilbert: "You poor little rabbit."

Prince Gilbert, who had been watching the series of events from a distance, stands in front of me.

He lifted my chin up by the handle of his cane, and my eyes met his red ones.

Gilbert: "Oh, but... you looked fine."

Emma: "Yes, I'm self-satisfied, but now I feel refreshed!"

(This is much better than holding back and not even saying what I want to say.)

It feels like a crevice has been opened in an uncomfortable space.

Prince Gilbert huffed and poked me in the leg with the tip of his cane.

Gilbert: "It's fine to approach people who are against you, but don't carelessly get hurt."

Gilbert: "I get jealous when I see scars inflicted by someone other than me."

Gilbert: "So much that I want to kill him…?"

(… I wonder if this is also something that Prince Gilbert is worried about.)

Emma: "I'll be careful."

When I answered honestly, Prince Gilbert released his cane with satisfaction.

Emma: "By the way, weren't you just about to say something?"

Gilbert: "Good. If you hadn't remembered, I would have done something terrible to you."

(… It's not safe.)

Gilbert: "You're free in the evening, aren't you?"

Gilbert: "I want to go on a date with you."

Emma: "Okay."

Emma: "No, a date?"

Gilbert: "Yes, a date."

Emma: ". . . . . ."

Gilbert: "It's a yes, right…?"

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