#spot patterns of behavior and do better

[vizthedatum]

Always with the illusion of choice unless they’re love-bombing you.

[mydearzero]

Prey | Professor!Spencer Reid x Reader

MASTERLIST

PART 2

18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Summary: You were determined to stay collected and have your professor make the first move. To make him believe he's the one desperate for you. He's onto you though. He knows what you want, what you need. And he's going to give it to you.

Warnings: Professor!Spencer, fem!Reader, Teacher/student relationship, age gap, smut, unprotected sex, penetrative sex (p in v), NO Y/N, fingering, praise kink, degradation, dacryphilia, humiliation, semi-public sex, rough sex, creampie, choking, aftercare. If I missed any warnings please tell me!

3.9K words

Criminology wasn't the first class you'd voluntarily take. It was interesting enough, really. But not at all necessary for your degree. 

You loved true crime as much as the next college-aged girl. That's what your excuse would be, at least, when people would inevitably ask why the hell you signed up for the class. But the real reason? 

You'd seen him on campus a couple times, only a semester ago. His jagged yet put-together exterior intrigued you. His eyes met yours, if only for a split second. He was perceptive. Very perceptive.

The third time you saw him meeting with the dean, you knew you were hooked. You felt yourself mouth the syllables of his name. Heard the sound falling off your lips in a whispered tone as you overheard him introduce himself to the Criminal Law professor. 

Doctor Spencer Reid. 

You'd done your research, as any self-respecting student would. He was an FBI agent working for the Behavioral Analysis Unit. He was a proper genius with several degrees under his belt, even when he was your age. 

He wasn't anymore, your age.

A notice got posted on the college's website a few days after your last sighting. Doctor Spencer Reid of the FBI would teach several seminars this semester, with voluntary attendance and limited availability. 

You signed up in a heartbeat. You told yourself it was because he was an enigma, a puzzle for you to solve. His posture, eyes and even how he spoke screamed 'Solve me!' You, someone notorious for your ability to read people, couldn't figure him out. It frustrated you. Everything about him invited you to try and peel back the layers to let you see inside. 

Were you maybe a tad too obsessed with the man without ever having spoken to him? Obviously, but you couldn't help yourself. You loved a good mystery. And this was one gorgeous mystery. 

You tried to be deliberate about everything when you entered the first seminar. Don't spare the professor a second glance, but be genuinely interested. Don't hang off every word falling from his lips but raise your hand often enough to appear engaged. You wanted him to be the one to notice you first, even if it was anything but the truth. 

But Professor Reid was a professor in his field for a good reason. He caught your calculated gaze a few times. Watched as you schooled your expression to perfection. Spencer had to admit, you were good. But he was better. He noticed how your stare dropped to his hands as he moved them while speaking. Noticed how the pattern of your breathing was unnatural. If his hearing was superhuman, he would've heard your heart beat irregularly. 

You could seek control of the situation as much as you wanted, but your body would betray you time and time again. Spencer thrived in this little cat-and-mouse game you'd tried to set him up for. He knew you'd convinced yourself you were the cat, calculated, ready to pounce. He smiled to himself at the comparison. If only you knew you were the mouse in this situation, insignificant and small under his watchful eye. Something for him to feast on.

He'd seen you that day; the first time he was on campus. Captured your observant eye with amusement simmering in his mind. He knew who you were, and why you were here, the second you walked into the classroom. You'd tried to appear confident, sure of yourself, by walking to a spot near the front without sparing anybody around you a second glance. But Spencer saw it for what it was. A nervous but powerful stride of a girl begging for a grain of validation. 

It had been brought to his attention that several girls in the class were only auditing, but not you. You were here for the real deal. You were committed to figuring him out. He could see it in the way your eyes raked over his body, reading his body language with every syllable spoken. You were genuinely interested in the subject matter, even if it was only to listen to him explain it.

He was flattered, really. Although your interest in the professor might've started as superficial as the other girls', he could see himself in the way you lost yourself in the infatuation. It wasn't just his looks that pulled you into his orbit. You were intrinsically aware of the grief, trauma and heartache he'd built up over the years. You were dying to be a part of the gravity that shaped him. 

He could see how you had the power to mould people when you had your claws in them. Though, he wasn't sure it was a conscious ability you possessed. Maybe it was just who you were. You had a need for control in every sense of the word. And God, did he want to take it away from you. 

If he didn't know any better, he'd be afraid you'd commit a string of murders if only it meant he would have to read into it. Consider every detail of the crime scene so he'd have to figure you out. It was admirable; your passion for complete dominance. But you couldn't fool Spencer. 

He saw the way you crossed your arms, bit the skin on your lips until they bled, and picked at the skin around your nails, not quite bringing them up to your mouth to bite them, knowing it would convey insecurity. You were an insecure little girl, convincing yourself of the opposite. 

Your need to understand him and domineer every situation was likely a defence mechanism, but he couldn't judge. Not when your little game got him right where you wanted him. Spencer had to applaud your dedication. The anticipation kept him on his toes every time he set foot on campus. He knew you wanted him to break, to make the first move, and he just might have to if he wanted to rid himself of the everlasting tension that seemed to have taken over his body. 

Fine. Spencer would play your little game if that's what you wanted. 

He saw you getting more confident, convinced he was falling into your trap the second he gave in. How the corners of your lips curled up ever so slightly when his gaze lingered on them. You were so caught up in your success that you failed to notice every action was premeditated on his part. It was only inevitable your eyes would light up with glee and triumph when he requested you to meet him in his office after class. 

You knocked on his door tentatively, trying to slow your racing heart. 

"Come in." Spencer's voice carried through the door. You turned the handle and stepped inside the dimly lit office. 

"You wanted to see me, Professor Reid?" You spoke as your hand lingered on the door, a calculated move to come across as unsure. It was a complete 180 of your usual behaviour in class, but it was a surefire way to let him let you in. You were no threat. 

If only you knew how true that was. 

"Yes, close the door and have a seat, please." Spencer motioned to the chair across from him. You nodded and closed the door quietly before pulling the chair out and sitting down. 

"I would like to discuss your paper with you if you don't mind." Spencer held up the printed copy he insisted everybody hand in. You scoffed when you read the specifications of the assignment. Figures he'd be old school. 

"That's fine. Is there something wrong, Professor?" You batted your eyelashes the way you knew no man could resist. The act of the meek, helpless deer. 

"There's nothing wrong with it, necessarily. I would simply like to discuss the subject matter with you. You sure picked an interesting topic." Spencer leaned against the back of his chair and interlocked his fingers as he saw you smile. 

"What can I say? Your job intrigued me. Though, as I'm sure you could tell from my essay, I can't say I completely agree with the logic behind it." You gave him a small smile to let him know you weren't antagonising but stood behind your choices. 

"Some critiques definitely can be taken into account. But it's been proven time and time again, with every case we solve through behavioural analysis, that the science and logic behind it work. Sure, we can be wrong, even way off. But it's a rare occasion." His eyebrows raised in challenge as he spoke. A small smile threatened to appear on his face as he awaited your answer.

You squinted at his apparent amusement. He wasn't taking you seriously. He knew he'd cracked you when your facade dropped. You looked genuinely offended at his lack of interest in your opinion. He almost wanted to laugh at how easy it turned out to be, to get you to drop the act. 

"Don't look so smug, Professor. It's not a good look on you." You jabbed. You cursed at yourself. That wasn't an argument. You crossed your arms as you leaned back in the chair, never breaking eye contact. 

"I must say, I'm kind of disappointed in you. You seemed to have a great grasp on the subject matter while in class, yet you failed one of the biggest requirements of the assignment." 

You frowned at his words, genuinely confused. You egged him to continue talking. 

"You see, the main requirement was to stay objective. This essay was anything but. I guess I misjudged you. I assumed you were above letting your personal opinions and vendettas get in the way of your academics. Apparently not." Spencer tsked. He was taunting you. 

"How was my essay subjective?" You asked. The more you thought back to it, the more you realized how tainted the words on the pages in his hands were by your disdain for your attraction to him. 

You hated him for making you feel the way you did, and you hadn't even realized it until now. 

"I expected factual work. The only fact I can get from this essay is that you're driving yourself crazy with how much you want me to fuck you." 

You gaped at his vulgar words. 

Hook.

"Don't look so scandalized. You knew what you were getting into when you signed up for my class. You made your bed. Now lie in it." Spencer leaned forward and placed his elbows on his desk, crossing his fingers once again. 

"I think you're full of shit, Spencer Reid." You sneered. 

Line.

"I'm sure you do, sweetheart. And it's Doctor or Professor. I'm not picky." He had the gall to laugh. 

"Profile me then, professor. If you're so damn sure of yourself." You rolled your eyes but looked at him expectantly. 

Sinker. 

"Stand up, lock the door." He instructed. You did as he asked with no rebuttal. He raised from his chair and walked around the desk. You followed him closely with your eyes, unable to predict his next steps. 

He placed a singular finger under your chin and lifted it to make you look up at him. "Good girl." He whispered with intent. You tried to give no outward reaction to the words, but as Spencer had come to predict, your body betrayed you. Goosebumps raced down your crossed arms, and your breathing hitched, even if only slightly. 

You didn't break eye contact, to Spencer's amusement. You really should've known better. 

"You want me to profile you? Sure. In your essay, you kept mentioning speculation. But, you see, it's not speculation. It's deduction. You would've known and been able to differentiate the two if you weren't so busy rubbing your thighs and biting your lips in my class." His words were accompanied by his thumb coming up to your mouth, running it over the chewed-up skin of your bottom lip. 

"You want to know what else I deduced just now?" He didn't wait for your reply as he brought his face closer to yours, leaning in to whisper in your ear. 

"I think you like being called a good girl. But not because of the validation... No... It's the implication that turns you on." His breath scalded the delicate skin of your neck as he spoke. 

You urged him to continue with your silence, breath stuck in your throat. 

"You see, most girls like you like being called a good girl because they lack external male validation. They're desperate to hear those words from anyone. Not you, though... No..." Spencer laughed before continuing. 

"You like it because it implies a level of authority. You love hearing it, especially from me, because it implies that I have the authority to decide for you what you are. And you wanna know what I think?" He leaned back a little to be able to look you in your wide eyes. He traced his finger over your jaw. 

"I think you're a little whore. You don't want someone to validate you. You need someone to completely dominate you." He grabbed your chin forcefully. A soft whimper left your lips before you could stop it. 

"Your pupils are dilated, your skin is flushed, and you're barely breathing. That's how I know I'm right. And I'm not speculating, darling." The alarmed look you gave him did nothing to deter him. 

"Get on your knees." He demanded as he let go of your chin. You did so without question. You looked up at him expectantly, heart beating in your throat. 

"Looks like I finally found a way to shut you up. Though, I can think of other ways. You're going to address me as 'Sir' from now on. You won't speak unless spoken to. Am I clear?" 

You nodded quickly, spreading your legs to alleviate the pressure quickly building. Spencer raised an eyebrow before putting his shoe between your thighs, putting even more pressure than before. 

"I asked. Am. I. Clear?" 

"Yes!" You yelped. A smile that could only be described as devilish made itself apparent on your professor's face. 

"Yes, what?" He asked as he pushed the point of his shoe further between your thighs. 

"Yes, Sir." You all but moaned as you tried to hold yourself up, keeping your back as straight as it would allow you. 

"Good girl." He said the riveting words. 

You expected him to pull his pants down and force your mouth on him, but he did no such thing. 

"You're gonna make yourself cum on my shoe. You better not make any noise." He instructed. 

"Yes, Sir." You mumbled as you slowly started grinding against him. You felt your cheeks get redder and redder in embarrassment. You were mortified at the realization that the humiliated feeling only added to the ease of your grinding, getting wetter and wetter. Your underwear was no longer doing much to keep his shoe clean. 

You looked up at Spencer, who looked unaffected. He put his hands in his pockets and sighed as if the current situation was nothing but an inconvenience to him. You slowly put your arms around his leg as you moved closer to him. 

Soft whines left your mouth as you felt yourself getting closer. You'd never felt as conflicted before. So incredibly turned on, yet so embarrassed to be basically humping his leg. 

Suddenly, Spencer ripped his leg away. You lost your support and fell flat on the floor in front of his feet. "That's enough." 

"I thought you said I had to make myself cum, Sir?" You could hear you sounded as desperate as you probably looked. 

"And I decided I'm not going to let you. Now, who said you could speak?" You quickly closed your mouth. "That's what I thought." 

He gripped your upper arm harshly and hoisted you off the floor. You dared to peek at the shoe that had just now been your seat and were embarrassed to find it reflecting the light, unlike its matte counterpart. 

Your legs wobbled as Spencer guided you to his desk. It was only now you realized the shutters weren't completely shut, light from the hallway shining down on your face as he pushed it down against the mahogany when he bent you over at the waist. Spencer followed your gaze. 

"I guess you'll really have to be quiet, baby. My office hours start in less than an hour." You met his eyes with your own panicked ones. Anybody who did as much as try and look inside past the shutters would see you bent over his desk. He brushed your hair out of your face before flipping your skirt up and examining the sight before him. 

"You soaked right through those panties of yours. Better take 'em off." He said as he hooked his fingers under them and pulled them down. You stepped out of them to the best of your ability.

Spencer picked them up, and gave them a short whiff, before walking around his desk. You didn't dare move but followed him with your eyes, confused. He looked at you as he unlocked a drawer, put them inside, and locked it again. You weren't getting those back. 

He walked back around and admired the sight for a little before he unexpectantly gave your ass a harsh smack. You closed your eyes tightly as you felt yourself get wetter at the stinging sensation it left behind. 

You jumped as he pushed two fingers inside without preparation. He placed his other hand on your back to push you back down against the desk. His eyes were warning you to stay still as he moved his finger expertly inside you. He brought his thumb to your clit, and you had to bite your lip to stop yourself from making any noise. The circumstances from before had ensured you were nearing the edge concerningly fast. 

When Spencer sped up, you brought a hand to your mouth to muffle any noise. You felt your eyes tear up at the intensity of the sensation, so you squeezed them closed. Just as you were about to fall over the edge, Spencer stepped away. His weight against you was what was keeping you up. You felt your knees buckle as a desperate cry left your lips. 

"Please, Spencer. Please." 

He looked furious as he grabbed your shoulders, turning you around and pushing you back on the desk. Your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist. He pushed your shirt up, exposing more skin to him. He tugged your bra down, not bothering to unclasp it. He tugged roughly at your nipples, making you keen, and the tears finally spill from your eyes. 

"Not so tough now, huh?" He mumbled as he undid his belt with one hand. The other was still pawing at your crudely exposed breasts. He didn't bother properly pulling his pants down, only taking his cock out of its confines. You imagined you looked downright filthy compared to how composed the man in front of you still managed to appear. There was a stain on his pants from where your crotch had met his, but other than that, he was pristine. 

He gave his cock a few tugs before lining himself up, grabbing your thighs and pushing inside. You couldn't contain the guttural groan that escaped you as the strength of his thrust forced your head off the desk, hanging over the edge. He didn't care as he started pounding away, using his grip on your thighs as leverage. 

You could barely breathe, the angle of your neck not allowing much air to flow. Your ears started to ring as blood pooled in your head, making you dizzy as Spencer kept his brutal pace. You tried gripping his arms to pull yourself back up before you passed out, but hardly to any avail. Spencer noticed your struggle and pulled your head back on the desk. The blood rushing back down, along with a particularly harsh thrust, had you moaning his name. 

You heard his haggard breath as he continued filling you again and again. The sensation of him inside you drove you crazy, the tears from earlier still fresh on your cheeks. Low groans fell from Spencer's lips when one of his hands moved to your clit, rubbing rough circles. 

Just as you'd recovered from your little upside-down stint, Spencer brought the hand still resting on your thigh up to your throat, reclaiming your ability to breathe freely. He squeezed in the exact right spot. Your hands moved to his wrist, not to get him to stop, but as leverage. 

"You look so good like this, like a slut for your Professor. Crying on my cock while I decide if you get to breathe." You moaned as your nails dug harshly into his wrist. You were slowly getting lightheaded again. 

"You're gonna cum on my cock when I tell you to." He spoke through the sound of skin hitting skin. His voice was strained, low moans reaching your ears.

"Yes, Sir." You struggled to get the words out. 

"Good girl," Spencer said once more, giving a few more intentional thrusts deep inside you. A noise that could only be classified as a scream bubbles straight out of your chest when he hit the right spot over and over and over again. He finally released the hold on your neck. 

"Cum." The demand had barely reached your ears as your vision went white. You felt his hips stutter against your own, shooting his load in tandem with your own orgasm. 

He slowly pulled out and admired the sight of you still trying to recover, legs wide open, dripping with his cum on his desk. 

You were on the edge of hyperventilating, all the sensations overwhelming you. Spencer slowly helped you sit up, careful to not let your privates touch the harsh wood of the desk. You let yourself fall against his chest as he held you up.

"Hey, hey. You're okay. Come on, look at me." He spoke softly, in complete contrast to just mere minutes ago. You met his eyes, which had softened tremendously. 

"I'm sorry if I was too harsh on you." He quietly apologized, wiping the stray tears from your cheeks. 

You shook your head. "No, no... You were right. That was exactly what I needed, I suppose. Good profiler." You chuckled emptily. 

Spencer stifled a laugh as he wrapped his arms around you. "Next time, you can just ask for what you want, okay? No more of this little game." 

"It was fun, though. Guess I underestimated you, Sir." 

Spencer groaned at the title. 

"Too soon, baby girl. Maybe clean yourself up before going there again." 

You winced as you felt a trickle of his cum down your leg. 

"Yeah, maybe." You grimaced. You were going to be sore for the next week.

He lifted your face to his, the action feeling a lot less domineering. His eyes were gentle as he slowly leaned in, placing a delicate kiss on your lips. 

"You'll still need to rewrite that essay." He muttered as he pulled away. 

You rolled your eyes and scoffed, hitting his shoulder lightly before giving him a peck. "Sure thing, Professor." 

PART 2

[6lostgirl6]

A Night To Dismember

Pairing: Michael Myers x Fem!Reader

TW: Detailed Gore, Mentions of Murder, Mentions of Sexual Assault [Not by Michael], Slightly Possessive Michael, Protective Michael, Mature Audience only!

A/N: Requested by my bestie @prettywhenibleed! I really hope you enjoy this and it was an absolute pleasure to write this for you!! Love you, my favorite slasher whore! ❤️ This isn't my best work, I'm afraid, forgive me.

The Smith's Grove Sanitarium operated according to a schedule that was consistently set in motion without interruption. No authorized doctor employed by the sanitarium, however, would have foreseen this. Medical specialists thought they were completely familiar with Michael Myers' behavior. He was docile and kept to himself, despite being the most dangerous and threatening patient in the hospital. 

But if you left him alone, there was a chance he would treat you in a similar fashion. The sole exception would be if touching his masks or otherwise bothered him. Even being among other patients was something he never enjoyed.

You were a new patient, recently exiled from society and your family because of your dreadful infatuation with fire and burning objects of interest. Your arrival left the building in absolute shock. On your first day, you were assigned to the recreation room. When you entered the room, your initial instinct was to walk over to the largest and most dangerous man within the sanatorium while grinning brightly. You only watched him work on a paper mache mask while standing over his hunched figure in the corner of the room, his hospital-approved supplies scattered along the table. 

You thought the colors were stunning, which you happily expressed. 

As a precaution against Michael harming you, guards stood by the recreation room's entrance wielding batons. Michael, on the other hand, did the exact opposite, giving you a cursory glance before grunting and slackly pointing for you to sit next to him. 

It was like you and Michael had your own timetable inside the sanitarium, and this went on for the next few months without fail. As directed by his psychiatrist, Michael was permitted to create his masks in the recreation area in the mornings. You would follow not far behind and take your normal seat beside him at a table chosen at random, apart from the other patients. You would merely watch him create his masks and ramble about whatever was on your mind. Michael never responded to the conversation, but that didn't stop you from talking to him because he had his own style of doing so without words. You have grown accustomed to deciphering his thoughts from his basic grunts and gestures.

"Hey, Mikey." You said with a smile, taking a seat at your usual spot next to Michael's side, placing your tray of food onto the table.

Michael was in the middle of placing wet paper mache on the face mold for his mask, his fingers caked in colors of paint and residue from the paper mache. He paused for a moment, giving you a small grunt as acknowledgement before returning to his activity.

You smiled more, chuckling at his usual ways of communicating as you watched him craft. You've always been interested in his masks and the variety of patterns he would use for each one. Many of his masks had their own unique qualities. However, you knew to only look, not touch.

"I see you're adding bright colors this time; are those happy pills finally working?" You teased him, nudging him softly with your body.

Michael huffed through his nose, which you learned was his way of chuckling as he shook his head at you. In the past, It took a while, but you had a better understanding of Michael's gestures and emotions than the doctors.

Simply because you treated him like a person, not an experiment.

"Maybe next time then." You replied, turning towards your tray before glancing at his project once more. "You're really good at that, Mikey. You're really talented."

Once again, Michael paused his movements, his stained fingers holding the paper mache while his eyes remained downcast. His fingers twitched before he resumed, and you almost thought you said something wrong.

"I didn't mean-"

You were cut off as Michael grabbed another mold from the table, pushing it in your direction. Your eyes widened slightly as you pushed your tray out of the way as Michael's slow movements brought other materials in your direction.

Still in slight awe, you watched him turn towards you, and your eyes connected through his favorite orange mask. You couldn't help the way your heart skipped a beat at the way his eyes stared into your own, seemingly piercing into your own soul.

The doctors were wrong; his eyes weren't soulless, nor were they black, resembling a massive void of nothingness. They were blue, similar to a clear sky or the glimmering waves of the ocean.

He huffed before pointing a finger at the materials and then towards you. He wanted you to mold with him.

"Thank you, Mikey." You said softly, a bright smile on your face.

When your eyes met Michael's, he was unable to comprehend the sensation in his chest. Usually, when his sight fell on their figures, individuals would tremble or turn away. He wasn't concerned by their fear of the facility's most dangerous patient. He actually benefited from the fear he instilled in the hearts of many who came to the sanitarium.

Yet you didn't...and he liked that.

He liked that you weren't scared of him, speaking to him, or even touching him like you've been these past few months. The thought of you being scared of him made him feel...hollow.

When you started working on your own mask using the materials that were laid out on the table, Michael couldn't help but covertly place a palm on his chest to feel how his heart was refusing to settle down. He almost wanted to groan in annoyance, hating the way he liked being around you and having your attention.

He had been content with his solitude for a long time, He preferred being alone and had been for many years. However, the notion of you leaving him made the murderous itch inside him threaten to resurface.

He decided that he would keep you with him, protect you with everything he has, and extinguish anyone who threatened to ruin that. With darkened eyes, he returned to working on his mask.

On that day, you and Michael became closer.

You weren't born yesterday and you certainly weren't born stupid. Trouble was afoot in the institution and it was either happening under the doctors' noses or they simply didn't care enough to investigate. Over the past week, you would hear feminine screams down the hallway in the women's section of the institution during the late hours of the night. Last night, the screams could be heard two doors down from your room.

The screams and cries began when a new guard was appointed to the institution, supposedly replacing a well-known guard who was at the age of retirement. Due to your paranoia, you would sit on the edge of your bed, watching the door in the chance of someone entering your room when they weren't supposed to.

During the days, you would spend all you could with Michael, hoping that your association with him would make you seem off limits to mess with, or you hoped. Yet, Michael couldn't protect you when the sun went down and the men and women would return to their respective cells on opposite sides of the institution.

Tonight, you were following the same routine, sitting on the edge of your bed and watching the door. Your mind was in shambles, trying to come up with a plan in that chance, that horrid chance of the new guard coming for you. You hoped it wasn't what you were thinking, and for once, you prayed.

God never heard your prayers, and he certainly didn't now, especially when the jingling of keys were heading down the hallway, towards your room.

Michael couldn't sleep and when he couldn't sleep, he would simply pass the time by creating more masks or painting designs onto them. He was sitting at his desk, the surface covered in paper mache, markers, paint, and crayons. He was in the middle of adding a touch of red when he heard the distant sound of screaming.

His annoyance was disguised under his mask as he sighed and tightened his grip on the crayon in his hand to the point that it almost broke in half. He puffed again at the commotion and went on, indifferent to the screams. Perhaps a patient was making a scene during the nightly check-ins.

In order to block out the noises, Michael withdrew within the walls of his mind. It was a way that allowed Michael to escape freely from the confinement of his cell. He would always imagine a life outside the institution, with you. He would imagine the way he would protect you and provide for you. The thought used to sicken himn, but now he enjoyed it, the possibility. The sound of keys jingling, seemingly opening his cage, caused him to pause, though. With a loud crash, the cell door swung open, and shouting could now be heard outside of his room.

"Want some, freak?" The guard asked him in an mocking manner while Michael remained at his desk, his back to the guard. Michael immediately understood what the guard was pulling when he heard the feminine screams and intended to ignore it. 

He continued to ignore his surroundings, ignoring the rage building within his chest. The sound of his bed creaking didn't deter him from continuing on with his activity. However, it all changed when the victim screamed one word.

"Michael!"

You.

Your trapped figure on his bed, with your nightgown pushed up so that only your thighs were visible, caught Michael's attention as his head whirled around. Your eyes were filled to the brim with tears, which streamed down your cheeks as you sobbed and struggled. His eyes quickly shifted to the guard hovering over you, and he developed tunnel vision instinctively.

A ferocious roar erupts from Michael's mouth and takes hold of the guard by the neck and collar of his shirt, throwing him off balance. In the midst, you shakily brought yourself to a sitting position, fixing the bottom of your nightgown to cover yourself. Your eyes watched as Michael picked up the guard, pinning him to the wall with eerie silence. The man in his grasp was yelling in pain and fear as Michael kept him pinned, his legs dangling in the air.

"L-Let go! Let go, you fucking punk!" The guard cried out.

Michael did not like that, not at all. Without a second thought, Michael hurled him into his desk, his art supplies falling to the ground in a cluster of clangs while the man groaned in pain. Like a predator stalking his prey, Michael's towering form stalked over to the smaller male, his eyes black as night and void of any life or mercy within. His large hand reached out to grab the same red colored pencil,

Michael's next action seemed to be a blur, he body launching onto the guard and stabbing him with the colored pencil, his resiliant strength making the pencil tear through flesh and muscle.

You watched in a sickening twist of fascination and awe, watching as Michael stabbed the guard over and over, leaving no body part untouched, the man;s screams filling the room. Your heart felt warm, knowing that Michael was willing enough to kill someone for you.

Lastly, Michael stabbed him until his chest, stomach, and face was shrouded in punctures, cuts, and wounds. With one last jab, the colored pencil stabbed into his neck, making the man gurgle on his own blood.

"Michael..." You whispered, your eyes taking in his bloodied form as he slowly turned to you, heaving himself up and moving towards you. It was as if he was a trained dog hoping he made his master proud. However, you were nothing of the sort. When he was close enough, you wrapped your arms around him, pressing yourself into his strong form. "Thank you..."

Michael gave a small huff, hesitantly touching your head with his bloody palm, staining your strands with the bodily fluid. Without another word, Michael pushed you away and grabbed your hand, pulling you off the bed and heading towards the door.

"Where we are going?" You asked in confusion, following behind the behemoth of a man down the stark white hallway.

In response, Michael tugged on your hand and you decided to go along with whatever he had in his mind. He saved you after all; even when he didn't have to, he did. It made you feel safe and protected in his presence.

"Alright, Alright." You muttered, your figures turning a corner and out of sight.

Red and white.

Those were the colors you would never forget. The way the walls were coated in blood and bodily fluids of various nurses and guards that laid along the floor in mangled messes.

Michael was strong, very strong. You remembered the way he smashed a guard's skull in with his fingers alone. You shuddered at the thought, crossing your arms and staring at the wall in front of you as you waited for Michael to finish off his last victim. A nurse arriving at the right place at the wrong time as Michael ambushed her, his hands around her throat as he strangled her.

Michael walked over to you, his muffled huffing practically hovering over your ear as he showed you shoes and coat. You stared at the items with a blank expression, wondering what he wanted you to do with these.

He huffed before shaking the items in his hands, motioning the items towards you. You sighed before taking the items with a small smile, throwing on the shoes and coat. You felt the warmth of the fabric soothe your cold figure.

"Thank you..." You muttered softly, looking up at him as he stared down at you.

He couldn't help but think you looked...cute.

He offered you his bloodied hand, which you instantly took and followed him to the exit. You both were finally going to be free and it was all thanks to him.

After a few hours of walking, your feet were beginning to ache and the adrenaline from earlier was wearing off.

After your fifth yawn, Michael stopped in his tracks, turning towards you in the middle of the field. He simply stared at you as you bent forward to rest your hands on your knees.

Michael, I need to rest for a moment. Please my-" Your words were cut off when Michael stormed over to you, grabbing you roughly around the hips, hoisting you into his arms. His arm went around your waist, while the other held your back in a bridal style fashion.

Your eyes widened from his sudden roughness, however you couldn't complain as you basked in his warmth, nuzzling your face in the bloodied fabric of his robe.

"Thank you." You said, closing your eyes and allowing yourself to finally relax for the first time tonight. You didn't notice the way Michael was staring at you in his arms, his darkened eyes filled with something unknown, dangerous...maybe even a little bit of caring.

Silently, he turned and resumed walking through the field, making sure to keep you safe as you began to doze in his arms.

Finally, you were his.

Spam Liking W/O Reblogging = Blocked

Tagging: Comment to be added!!

@prettywhenibleed @ghoulgeousimmaculate @britany1997 @rottent33th @slaasherslut @bluecoolr @the-pinstriped-hood @flower-crowned-lady @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @azzy-ozborn @strrvnge @repostingmyfavs

[the-world-of-nai]

pick a sign; a message you need to hear right now✧.*

pile 1 -> pile 2 pile 3 -> pile 4

I RECOMMEND LISTENING TO THE SONG OF YOUR PILE BECAUSE THEY ARE REALLY SPOT ON THIS TIME AROUND!!

pile one

you have a strong energy. some of you could be in a situationship/friends w benefits, or entering one soon. you are someone who takes pride in their appearance. you could also be popular or have some level of fame. if that is not the current case, then it is coming in the near future. it's advised that you have more fun in life. dream more, think bigger, and have more fun. i see that you may have some mental fog right now because you overthink things quite a bit. you may feel like you are not smart, or do not make smart decisions. i advise you to get rid of this insecurity. go out and party with your friends. focus on your healing. focus on the dreams and hopes you had as a child. they will guide you.

zodiac: aquarius, leo

song: basics - twice

pile two

you are in a stable, self-focused energy. i see you have been building up your wealth. either your investments have paid off and you are now rich, or that is coming in the near future. it is advised that you do not make any sudden decisions at this time. resist the urge to be impulsive. take plenty of time to rest, relax, recharge and better understand your own emotions. emotional stability is highlighted here. i see this pile has been working on themselves. money is coming in like crazy. and what's more is a twin flame relationship. if you are already with someone, i see this person could be the one. if you are single, get ready for someone coming in very soon. continue to stay in this emotionally mature, self-nurturing energy and you will attract great things in your life!

zodiac: pisces, gemini

song: radio - lana del rey

pile three

wow.. the energy of this pile is heartbreaking. i am sorry for whatever it is that you are going through. i see some of you could be going through a breakup, conflict with loved ones, etc. lots of conflict here. i am seeing something about divorce, so some of you may be divorced or your parents have just been divorced. i see that you may be depressed, extremely sad and heartbroken. if that is the case, i am so sorry. you may be feeling stuck in life and like you do not know how to move forward. spirit is saying that the troubles in your life stem from those around you. they are causing you grief and anxiety. it is advised that you direct all of your energy into yourself, your career and creative hobbies. take advantage of this loneliness by becoming the person you always dreamed of being. keep the faith, keep your head held high. it may help you to delve deeper into spirituality at this time. this is just a bad chapter, things WILL get better so DO NOT GIVE UP!

zodiac: taurus, pisces, aquarius, leo

song: epiphany - bts

pile four

you may be in denial of something in your life right now. i see that you are the type of person who will lie to yourself about your current situation so that you can avoid making the necessary changes. you are either in a toxic relationship, or you are a toxic individual. toxic individual can mean many things, but in this case i am getting that you exhibit self destructive and toxic behaviors, yet you do not change them. you may lie to other people often, you may smoke a lot or sleep around a lot too. you could be this way because of a significant relationship in your life that came to an end. you may be the type of person who enjoys conflict in relationships because that is normal to you. it is advised that you address these patterns and heal them if you want to be truly happy in this lifetime.

zodiac: capricorn, taurus, gemini, libra, aquarius

song: love foolish - twice

[aleiellovesyou]

Who Is Your Next Romantic Partner ?

Pile 1 - Pile 4

Pile 1

Pile 1, your next romantic partner is going to be someone you will just adore. They’re a romantic and sentimental person that will really take your relationship seriously. It looks like they take all of their commitments seriously. They may be in school right now or they really enjoy learning about things that will help them grow and develop in life. I feel like this person has a great balance of stability and adaptability in their life. They’re also LOYAL and very energetic. They might channel their energy into good conversations rather than being really physically active. However, I do see them taking pride in their physique and most likely lives a healthy lifestyle. They take care of themselves and they’ll love taking care of you. This person could be born in winter or you’ll meet them in winter or they could be an earth sign, specially Virgo. If you’ve already met them, winter might be when you start dating. However, for most of you I’m feeling like this is a new person. When you meet, they will feel like so grateful that the universe brought the two of you together. They are very sweet and the type to plan surprise dates, random gifts, and fun activities together.

That’s all for you Pile 1, love and blessings!💙

Pile 2

Pile 2, your next romantic partner is giving me a lot of Fire sign energy. They are very ambitious and love experiences the joys and triumphs of life. You might find that they have really big dreams for their future and they could be a financial asset to you in some way. I feel like you’ve already met this person. There’s history here but I’m not sure what the nature of your relationship was. Something is going to happen that brings you guys together like some kind of destined event. This person could be an Aries or Leo however sagittarius energy is subtly present too. Either they were born in summer or you will be brought together in the summer time. Maybe this was someone you knew that moved away and will be coming back. That’s a message for a few of you. I see this person is very optimistic, creative, ambitious, passionate, and nostalgic in a way, like you may have had similar childhoods. Although they have a little fire they could be a little naive.

That’s all I have for you pile 2, love and blessings💛

Pile 3

*tw: substance abuse mentioned

Pile 3 your next romantic partner is definitely a water sign, BIG scorpio energy here. This person is very deep and fights internal emotional turmoil that they are actively trying to heal. This person is very deep in their healing journey. So they are really self aware. I feel like this person is cold, stoic , and intelligent. They have soft spots tho and can actually be kind of sensitive. I feel like this person is at a point in their life when you two meet/start dating that they will be releasing negative patterns/toxic behaviors. They want to be a better version of themself. For some they might be letting go of some kind of substance abuse. I also feel like this person is spiritual and believes in energy and the importance of having self awareness, self control, and good discernment.

That’s all I have for you pile 3, love and blessings🩵

Pile 4

Pile 4 this is a very patient, supportive, empathetic, and thoughtful person. I feel like their main love languages are quality time & physical touch. I feel like this person has a bit of a dark past which makes them a bit guarded when it comes to openly expressing emotion. They just take time to open up and reveal themselves. They seem like a a loner and they need to feel a deep sense of connection before they can open up, which is hard because how can you build a connection if someone won’t open up?? I see that it will take time to build something with this person in order for them to be more open. You might feel like they have a lot of secrets or this person just has a lot of fears about getting close to people even tho they crave closeness. I see they could be a Taurus or another earth sign. I believe you’ll be patient with them and start off as friends or maybe you’re already friends, then it will develop into more when this person feels safe.

That’s all I have for you Pile 4, love and blessings💜

[changetyre]

hey once you have the time could you do a love-hate smut with Lewis and he’s sort of a masochist?

The one and only II Mafia!Lewis x Reader

SUMMARY: Lewis has always been dark, too dark for most but to you, the wife of his biggest enemy, that attracted you in ways you knew were sick and twisted.

WARNINGS: **18+** masochism, blood, violence, pain, alcohol, drugs

A/N: It took me a while to write this cause in general I struggle with writing Lewis smut but this came to mind so I hope you like it ;)

"Another round!" Your husband slurred, his arm wrapped tightly around your waist as usual showing everyone you were of his possession.

You sat in his club (or at least he thought so) just like every Friday night watching as your husband lost himself with the neverending supply of drinks and drugs.

"Woah where are you going?" Your husband asked as his grip on your waist tightened to the point you winced in pain slightly.

"Just the bathroom, I'll be back." You played nice leaning over to kiss his cheek knowing that as soon as you left another girl would find their way in his arms and he would forget about you for a while.

This had been a pattern for the last month now. You walked to the bathroom watching as the guards from the club kept their eyes on you.

You knew you were pushing your luck but you always found a way to slip out of the club through the backdoor. Standing in the dark alley you waited not for long before you felt his presence behind you.

"Did you dress up just for me doll?" You felt his breath on your neck, his chest coming in contact with your back as he let his lips place a soft kiss on your shoulder.

"They could be watching." You ignored his question although he knew you weren't dressed this nicely for the man inside you supposedly belonged to.

"You know damn well they're not....remember-" He placed a hand on your waist turning you around to face him. "I own this city baby...and everyone in it." He kissed you sloppily letting his hands roam your body.

"Not that he's aware of" You gestured inside Lewis completely unbothered by your words as he continued kissing your lips, neck, and chest.

"And that's the best part isn't it?" He smiled cockily as his hands squeezed your ass harshly earning a whine from you.

"Let's go home, baby." He grabbed your hand dragging you away.

______________

"Has he touched you baby? Has he made you feel good since the last time?" Lewis squeezed your neck tightly constricting your airway for a second watching as your face drained of color for a few seconds before releasing.

"hmm, no-" You coughed, holding Lewis, arm tightly as some leverage. "he never makes me cum" you finished knowing this only spurred Lewis on.

Lewis started kissing down your body, loving the ink that covered your skin just like his. He kissed down your stomach reaching your hips when he stopped.

You whined at the loss of contact before hissing when you felt a sharp pain near the last spot he kissed.

"What's this?" Lewis asked disgusted.

The tip of his knife rested over a tattoo, the newest one, the knife had just managed to pierce your skin causing blood to start dripping down your sides.

"He did it." You spoke truthfully. "Wanted to mark me some more." You explained.

Lewis hated the symbol, the mark with those initials embedded in your skin as if you were truly someone else's besides his.

"tsk tsk tsk." Lewis shook his head disapprovingly.

"Aghh." You whined as you felt Lewis's knife move across your skin. You watched as he marked an X right atop the emblem.

"Shh baby." Lewis quickly wiped the blood away with his sleeve before kissing over the spot. "We can fix it better later."

You hated the way this behavior only made you wetter. "Lew-" You whined.

"What baby? What to do you need?" Lewis asked cockily as he cupped your pussy with his hand, his palm just rubbing at your clit.

This was torture for you and he knew that.

"Please Lew, please touch me." You begged.

"Hmm, I'm not sure you deserve it doll-" Lewis grip around your mound tightened, and he loved the squeal you let out, it was a little painful but you found pleasure in it. "Letting yourself get marked up like this." Lewis other hand came to press on the fresh wound he created earning another hiss from you.

"You know I'm yours, Lew, only yours please...please just touch me." You grabbed Lewis's hand desperately placing it on your body.

Lewis didn't give you time to think before he uncupped you and thrust 3 fingers inside of you stretching you out without warning.

You screamed only spurring him on further as he began thrusting them in and out of you at a stupidly fast pace.

"FU- LEW! Too much." You began trying to get him to slow down now.

"You were just begging for me to touch you doll." Lewis smirked as he came down to bite on your nipples.

It was too much too fast but it felt incredibly good at the same time.

"LEW I CAN´T- I'M GONNA-" You screamed.

He loved watching you squirm under him. "Not yet-" All of a sudden he stopped, everything.

You whined like a toddler who'd just been denied some ice cream.

"This is gonna be a long night darling-" Lewis kissed you roughly.

"Wh-What a- What about-" You tried to speak through the kisses. "What about him?"

"Took care of him already darling. You're a widow." Lewis started kissing your neck again. "You're stuck with me now...forever."

His words sent shivers down your entire body but excited you at the same time.

But your mind had no more time to think as you felt Lewis's lips cover your pussy, his tongue immediately finding your clit.

[blueberrybeomgyu]

୨⎯ "holding out" ⎯୧ (mjh)

+*:🍓:*﹤response to this ask!!!!

+*:🍰:*﹤descrip. : jaehyun just wants to do better for you

+*:🩷:*﹤content : sub!jaehyun bc who would i be if this wasn't sub!jaehyun x fem!reader, reader is kinda dominant but i never know if it's enough for me to tag, smut

+*:🍓:*﹤warnings : 18+ mdni, edging AGAIN, masturbation, kinda exhibitionism/voyeurism again 🤭, nipple touching, petnames sweetheart/sweetie/good boy/baby boy, female anatomy for reader, mentions of penis in vagina sex, endurance training methinks...mehopes

+*:🍰:*﹤word count: 3.2K

+*:🩷:*﹤author's note at the end bc it's long </3: this story on ao3!!

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

Jaehyun’s been acting weird, and that’s saying something, because he’s always been a bit strange. 

But it’s obvious he hasn’t been his usual self for the past week. When you ask him about it, he brushes it off quickly and changes the subject. 

Then, whatever’s bothering him begins affecting your sex life. He's tense, visibly nervous before you guys do anything intimate. You can tell he's close when his high-pitched moans turn into quiet, choked off gasps. You know the signs, and you’re more than ready to feel his hot seed fill you up the way you like, but it never does. You see his face scrunch up in torment right before he hides in your neck. He continues to let out a string of pitiful whimpers, hips still thrusting sloppily until you're showing signs of orgasming yourself. This goes on for days before you notice a pattern. 

You guys get intimate, and for a little while afterward, he gets quieter, more reserved, almost…ashamed? He can’t even seem to look at you, and is quick to scoot away when you sit too close to him. It kind of hurts, but you give him time and space, figuring he’ll come to you if  he’s ever ready to talk. He never brings it up, but after a couple of hours, he’s back to the Jaehyun you know–a bit strange, proposing unusual schemes and so hyper he’s basically bouncing off the walls.

The two of you often fall into intimate moments after bantering, sometimes even play fighting, and tonight’s no different. Jaehyun’s his usual mischievous self, teasing you enough that it’s harmless, but gets under your skin. When tension arises and things get heated, you guys make eye contact, and he kind of just…deflates, moving from where he’s hovering over you to slump back against the couch.

You hesitate, because you don’t want to put him on the spot, but his behavior is beginning to make you concerned, and a little insecure. After a few moments, it’s obvious Jaehyun’s not going to say anything, so you speak up.

"Sweetie, we should talk." 

Immediately, he tenses. He sits up, and his shoulders are so stiff it looks uncomfortable. His only noticeable movement is the fiddling with his fingers, wringing them as if he wants to crack his knuckles, but they’re not popping. You keep a safe distance between the two of you, but sit close enough that you can rest a comforting hand on his thigh.

His eyes are glossy, and his lip is caught in between his teeth when he finally looks at you. He looks like a kicked puppy, and you immediately want to scoop him in your arms and make him feel better. But, time and space.

"Oh, baby. Will you tell me what's bothering you?" 

His lips move, but almost no sound comes out. His cheeks visibly redden when you ask him to repeat himself.

"Do you think I...finish too fast?" He asks, mumbling 'finish' shyly like it's dirty. You stare at him in confusion, rolling his words around in your head, trying to get them to make sense. Since when is him cumming quickly an issue?

"Sorry, was that too abrupt? Just forget I-"

"No, you're fine, Jae. I was just a little surprised." You look away from him for a moment to think about your next words carefully. "There's nothing wrong with being sensitive."

Again, Jaehyun deflates back into the couch, hands coming to hide his face.

“That’s probably the worst thing you could've said. Seriously, ‘yes’ would’ve been less embarrassing.” He says, his words muffled by his palms.

“I’m sorry, I just mean–” You pause. “Even if you finish quickly, what’s wrong with that?”

“Well, doesn’t it leave you…unsatisfied?” This time, he whispers ‘unsatisfied’ cautiously, and pre-winces like he’s waiting for the scariest answer possible.

Almost immediately, you laugh, which sounds more like an amused scoff. Just the thought of Jaehyun leaving you high and dry is a bit silly–he’s a wonderful partner. Even if he finishes quickly, he’s damn near always hard, and rarely fails to make you cum.

But, unfortunately, you don’t say that, so your laughter is your only response. Jaehyun looks at you with his jaw hanging down and his eyes wide like he’s mortified.

“Fuck, I shouldn’t have said anything.” He half-whines, running his hands through his hair in distress. Instinctively, your hands come up to fix the mess, taming wild strands back into place so he looks less like a wet cat. 

“No– Sorry, I’m sorry. I’m not laughing at you, it’s just.” You stammer your words out, trying to clean up the way you’re royally fucking this up. “Jaehyun, you’ve never left me unsatisfied. You don’t even have to worry about that, okay?” You grab one of his hands and squeeze it lightly, trying to punctuate your statement. He doesn’t look entirely convinced, but he doesn’t push back, and instead reciprocates the hand-holding.

“But still, it kinda makes me feel bad. Humiliated, I guess? We barely get started and I feel like I’m already creaming my pants.”

The statement almost makes you giggle again, but you hold it back because that’s not at all helpful. Personally, you love Jaehyun's sensitivity, the way he gets tender and desperate from a hand tracing his thigh, the way he's on the precipice after a little petting. It's cute, he's cute, but you don't know how to tell him this in a way that will stick, so you change courses.

“Okay, this is a serious issue. What do you want to do about it?”

He looks at you bashfully, lips parted like he has something to say but isn’t sure how. Interesting, he’s thought about this before.

“Come on, Myungjae. It’s just me. There’s no need to feel shy.” You shimmy your shoulders a little, drawing his attention to where your boobs are sitting braless in your shirt, and they jiggle the tiniest amount. It’s not a shallow movement–Jaehyun’s easy to rile up, and you can tell he’s already tenting in his shorts. If he’s aroused, he’ll be much more comfortable talking about this, you hope.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:

“Okay, what’s this called, again?” You ask just to be sure, getting comfortable laying near Jaehyun’s chest. You two decided to do this in the bedroom, where Jaehyun might be most comfortable, since this is new territory. He’s slumped against the pillows and headboard, looking down at you with a look of uncertainty and a bead of sweat already forming on his temple. 

“Endurance training.” He says shakily, voice trembling around the words. “I’m gonna do something similar to edging myself, and hopefully with time, I’ll be able to last longer– or maybe I’ll have better stamina, or something.” His uncertainty makes you a bit nervous. It’s not like you two haven’t explored edging before, but you typically do it to each other, not watch one another do it to themselves. 

“And you’re positive you wanna do this?” You cup his cheeks, forcing him to maintain eye contact with you. He hesitates for a second, then there's a sense of determination in his eyes. They’re dark and determined when they meet your own. 

“I want to do this.” He says resolutely, nodding his head as much as he can in your grip. You release his face to let him get comfortable, and he has you set a five minute timer on your phone. Your job is fairly simple–tell him to stop when five minutes are up until (hopefully) he’s done it for twenty minutes. 

“Okay, but why can’t I do it for you?” You ask, trying to push away the urge to pout. You love feeling him tremble under your own hands, watching him fall apart from your touch.

“It’s better if I do it myself today. I t-think I might nut immediately if you touch me.” You’re a little disappointed, but you’re also intrigued about watching him touch himself, and this is important to him, so you want to be supportive. Besides, he didn’t say you can’t spur him on.

Jaehyun shimmies his shorts off and throws them somewhere on the floor, and you’re immediately distracted by the sight of his dick. It’s so cute and plump, and you stave off the need to put your mouth on it. You exchange “readies,” and Jaehyun wraps a hand around his member. You watch as he jerks at the feeling. He takes a deep breath, and when he nods, you start the timer. 

He’s just building up a steady rhythm when the timer reads 10 seconds, after successfully overcoming his shyness and giving into the pleasure when he sees that you’re not judging him.

And boy, are you not judging him. 

Looking at Jaehyun from across a crowded room is usually enough to get you hot at your core, but this need was something new entirely. You watch the way his head mushrooms on upward strokes, and almost feel dizzy at the sight of him running his thumb across the tip expertly. Of course Jaehyun knows how to work his own body, but damn. It’s so effortless you almost feel like you're interrupting. 

He doesn’t notice the way you rub your thighs together to keep the feeling of insanity at bay. He’s too lost in his own pleasure, eyes squeezed shut as he spreads his precum down his penis, and you might actually be drooling.

He’s shaking like a leaf by the time ten minutes pass, huffing a frustrated breath and laying his head back against the pillows. He moans softly when you place a quick kiss on his neck. 

“What’s the matter, Hyunie?” You say with a mischievous smile. He’s taking a small break from touching himself, so you rub little circles into his hip bones.

“God, I–” He stops to swallow, mouth dry from gasping and moaning. “Dunno how m-much longer I c-can do this.”

“But you’re halfway there, baby boy. You can do it.” You encourage, running a hand through his ruffled hair. He doesn’t share that belief, it’s obvious in his eyes, but he wraps his hand around his member again. 

“There you go.” You commend. He doesn’t say anything about you touching him, so you keep doing it, bringing a hand up to lightly squeeze his pec. “Is this okay?” 

He nods a little, whimpers a little in what you assume is permission, because he whines petulantly when you pull your hand away. 

After a few minutes, he’s breathing hard, and bucking his hips to meet his hand halfway. The timer reads 1 minute and 03 seconds left.

“Fuck, I-I can–, can’t-” He babbles incoherently, thighs shaking where they lift in the air and fall back on the mattress rhythmically. He throws his head back again, neck on full display for you to make use of. You take the bait, latching onto his skin and sucking red, angry marks into it. You pull away to read the timer again, 21 seconds left. When you suck another mark into his neck, Jaehyun gasps out.

“Y/N, Y/N, please, -m s’close– ah-h–” While you’re admiring his fucked-out state, your phone beeps next to you. You turn it off and look back at Jaehyun. You’re surprised to see that he’s already looking at you, eyes big and glossy as he humps his hand. 

“Time’s up, Jae.” You say. He whines.

“Jaehyun, stop.” He makes a little sound that you’re not sure what to call, something high-pitched and desperate as his hips stutter.

“Hyunie, do I have permission to touch you?” He nods quickly, desperately, likely under the impression that you’re gonna help him cum. The distressed whine he lets out when you pull his hand away from his cock is visceral, like he doesn’t have control over making it. 

He gasps for air greedily as he teeters from the edge. One of his hands clenches the duvet underneath him, and the other clasps your thigh instead, grip unforgiving. You’re so turned on you don’t even notice the pain, occupied by taking in his flushed face and messy hair. You connect your lips with his in what was meant to be a quick kiss, but he deepens it, the hand on the comforter coming to cup your cheek instead.

“Almost lost yourself for a second there, huh?” You tease after pulling away, whispering in the small space between you guys’ parted lips.

“Thi s-is s-so hard.” He mumbles, words trailing off into a whine, sloppy and slurring together. 

“But it’s been fifteen minutes, sweetheart. Just five more and you can cum.” 

Jaehyun squeezes his eyes shut in displeasure as he comprehends your words, and part of you wants to give in and let him have it. You know how badly he wants to succeed, and he’s already worked so hard. This was his idea, anyway.

But the other, seemingly sadistic part of you wants to watch as he pushes himself to agonizing pleasure. Desperate Jaehyun is one of your favorite sights–the way cute little tears roll down his cheeks and his body basically vibrates with a need only you can fulfill. It’s beautiful, to say the least, and the power goes straight to your cunt, getting you all hot and needy yourself. You clench around nothing at the mere thought of it, so you press “Start” on the timer again and help wrap Jaehyun’s hand back around his dick.

For a minute, Jaehyun doesn’t say anything. His eyes roll back at the stimulation, and he fucks up into his hand dumbly. Then, you lick a fat stripe up his nipple. 

"S-shit, fuck, n-needa cum- hahh, please, it hurts-" He whines in your hold, unoccupied hand trembling where it’s still laying on your thigh.

"Aw, don't you wanna last, sweet thing? You’re so close." 

"I-I- hn- don't w-wanna d-do this anym-more.” He stutters out, struggling to string the sentence together through the fog in his head and the pleasure coursing through his lower body. You halt the stimulation on his nipple at his words.

"What's your color, Hyunie?"

"G-green, green, fuck, I just wanna cum." He says immediately, tears building up in his lash line and finally rolling down his cheeks. His hand wavers, then picks up speed again. 

You pretend to contemplate while trailing a finger along his shaft and pulling away when he chases the feeling. "You want me to give you permission? Tell you to reach that overwhelming pleasure, make a mess all over yourself?" 

Jaehyun nods, of course, but you’re not even sure he’s comprehending what you’re saying right now. His eyes are almost fully black with the way they’re dilated, and you’d be worried if you hadn’t just confirmed his color.

"But I don't think you deserve it, sweetheart.” You lie. Of course he deserves it, but he’s so fun to play with. “It hasn't even been twenty minutes and you're already falling apart. Maybe I should get a ring for your little cock, watch as you desperately work yourself through dry orgasms." His hips stutter at your degrading words, hand aggressive as it strokes his poor, throbbing dick. The need to have it in your cunt has never been as strong as it is now.

"N-noplea- f-fuck, I’ms'rry-" 

Over Jaehyun's slurred babbles, you almost don’t hear the timer go off. At the realization that it's been twenty minutes, you smile proudly and turn the alarm off. 

You shh Jaehyun's whimpers and hiccups and bite another mark on his pec. You replace his hand with yours and thumb at his tip, then watch as he falls apart for you.

"Hng- gonna cum- cumming, pleas-"

"You're so good, Hyunie. You did it. Cum for me." Jaehyun looks at you almost in disbelief before his head falls back against the pillows and he's cumming so hard some of it lands on your shirt.

"You did it, Myungjae. Did such a good job for me." You congratulate again while peppering kisses on his face.

"Did it." He mumbles breathlessly with a lopsided smile and droopy eyes.

"Mhm, you deserve a reward, don't you think?"

"Uh-h." He mutters, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. He looks so tired, but you’ve been with him long enough to know he could give you two more orgasms at least. You lift up to straddle his legs and rub up and down his thighs gently. 

"I don't mind your sensitivity, Hyunie. Can I show you why?" He nods silently again, eyes glossy and dazed. He’s breathing harshly through his nose, but looks like he’s in overall good shape, so you take his dick in your hand again and begin slowly pumping it.

"U-unh- too m-much-" He whimpers out, brows furrowed in euphoric torture. His hips twitch like he doesn't know if he should buck into the feeling or pull away from it. Despite his moans in protest, he’s already filling up in your hand, ready to be played with again.

"See how you're already hard again, Jae? All for me?" His mouth hangs open, but no words come out. Instead, he grunts loudly when your pace increases. 

"I just wanna make you feel good." You squeeze his member lightly then tease at the slit. His head falls back again, and his back arches slightly, but he's still staring at you, eyes full of wonder and hanging onto every word you say.

"It doesn't matter if you cum quickly, ‘cause you can just do it again for me, isn't that right?" You twist your wrist just right, and he's shuddering through another orgasm, a pained, high-pitched whine coming from the back of his throat.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:

"T-thank you." he mutters, eyes struggling to stay open, boneless on top of the mattress. His words are still dragging, but they’re much more comprehensible. "-m sorry for making a big deal out of this. It all seems so silly now."

"If it matters to you, it matters to me, sweetheart." You reply, rubbing knots out of his shoulder from where you’re still straddling his legs. You’re still unbearably horny, and you’re pretty sure you’ve soaked through your underwear and your shorts by now.

"Still..." He trails off, eyes following you as you stand up from the bed and strip off your clothing. You see the way he gulps, the way his eyes helplessly flit between your boobs and your cunt, but you don’t say anything–you figure he’s had enough teasing for one day.

You straddle him again with a mischievous smile on your face.

"Let me ride you and I'll let you off the hook?"

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

note : i'm actually kind of in love w this story and maybe it’s because i pulled an allnighter to write it and my brain cells aren’t all the way here, if you read this and something doesn’t make sense PLEASE tell me 😭 guys do nawt have me out here looking like a fool </3 i tried to make it different from the taesan one, it was supposed to be a drabble but please don’t ask me how it became literally 3k i DO NOT KNOW….that sleep deprivation boost ig, lastly, i tried to research if there were any discernible differences between edging and endurance training but i couldn’t find anything super helpful so im so sorry if this isn’t a good representation of endurance training </33 berry just a blogger tryin their best

special thanks to @zynz0 and this fic which made me literally insane. while writing this, i couldn't find the phrase for what jaehyun is (maybe) doing here other than self-edging, but that post helped me a lot!!!

now i will FINALLY SLEEEEEP RAHHHH i literally finished this at 9am

[merakiui]

Hey, so you've written step-bro and step-son scenerios for the twst boys. But do you have any thoughts about a step-dad scenerio?

(cw: yandere, nsfw, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, stepcest, age gap but reader is written to be 18+)

Stepfather Crewel who loves you so much (and not in the platonic way). He wants you to know real, true love so that you won't fall for someone with a rotten personality or a penchant for doing scummy things! You should have high standards when it comes to your partners! Don't settle for the bare minimum. After all, your stepfather always has your best interests in mind. When it comes to fashion or makeup, he offers the best advice and insight. So this (allowing him to train your body to respond to all of his touches and words) shouldn't be any different. He's just getting you ready for when you inevitably do this with your lover (which will likely never happen because you only need your stepfather).

Vil is much the same. Your stepfather is so critical of your partners. Every one you've since brought home to meet him has yet to pass his test. You understand that your stepfather is only looking out for you, but does he have to be so harsh all the time? His standards are much too high. T_T at this rate, you don't think you'll ever find someone who'll he'll approve of. And so what? It's not like you need his approval; you're an independent adult. But then your last lover breaks your heart and the only one there to offer consolation is your stepfather. And with the alcohol numbing your logic and lowering your guard, you find yourself falling into bed with him.

Stepfather Floyd took to you right away! He's so sweet and caring, thinks you're the sweetest thing. You think he's very fun. He always brings you a little something from his time at work (he never discloses the exact specifics of his job, though). Sometimes it's a fancy-looking ring or a cute plushie. The gifts range in opulence and price, but you love all of them because they're genuinely thoughtful. To anyone else, this just looks like a stepfather spoiling his stepchild. But all of these gifts are courtship. Floyd loves you.

Stepfather Riddle... oooo maybe you sleep around and he doesn't like the fact that you're always sneaking out and being so disobedient. He's all for a spot of (safe and legal) fun every now and then, but you live such an unsafe, carefree life. As your stepfather, he worries for you. So he thinks he'll teach you a lesson. It's easy to catch onto your pattern. You think you've outsmarted him, so it's a shock when he pokes his head out the window and offers his hand to help pull you up. Oh, did you think you were being sly? Please, nothing slips past Riddle; he's not stupid. Obviously you don't know any better. You argue you're an adult, but Riddle's older and wiser. He bends you over his knee and spanks you for every week you've taken to slipping out of the house. You're his only stepchild; he just wants you to be safer and to stop opening your legs for anyone and everyone.

STEPFATHER ROLLO. orz he makes you help out around the church. You'd rather be doing anything else, but Rollo insists it's good for children and adults to help their parents when it's needed. You stick your tongue out at him. He's not your real father; you don't care. Rollo tries to build a happy rapport with you, but you're having none of it. It's frustrating, even more so because he genuinely cares for you (perhaps more than what's considered normal and healthy). He's not quite sure he wants to let you leave the house when you start expressing your desire to move out and pursue work/school elsewhere...

[nicksbestie]

I have an angsty (self-indulgent) req…

I struggle heavily with superstition and pattern-based compulsions, and I was curious if I could get a Jake or Johnnie fic where one of them sees the reader getting stuck in a harmful pattern (trying to match pain from scratches on both arms, knocking on their head for good luck, trying to avoid cracks/lines on the sidewalk, etc.)

-🫠

Summary : You struggle a lot with your compulsions and mental health, but your boyfriend is always there to make sure that you can relax.

Pairing : Jake Webber/Reader (romantic)

Warnings : Harmful pattern based actions, superstitious behaviors

Word Count : 718

A/N : i've never written anything like this req, so i really hope i did it justice! if i didn't please give me constructive criticism! my inbox and dms are open if you ever need to chat <3

Superstitious and compulsion based behaviors were a lot to deal with, and you knew that better than anyone in your personal life. You had struggled with them really badly for a long time, and it had damaged a lot of your life. You considered yourself very lucky sometimes, though, because you had a lot more support now than you did in the past, and the support system that you did have was absolutely amazing. You had two amazing best friends, one of whom was your boyfriend, and having dealt with struggles in his life, he was always so incredibly kind with you.

He was always patient, gentle, much softer than he was on camera, and you appreciated his tenderness so much. You couldn’t have imagined a better life partner than the man that you were with right now, and you truly couldn’t imagine your life without him. Having been with him for upwards of a year now, he was able to recognize when you were beginning to struggle, and always able to gently calm you down, keeping you comfortable and feeling safe. He was perfect, and was always there when you needed him, like today. 

Today you were having such a difficult day, many different things bothering you and being just uncomfortable enough to cause you to become frustrated. You managed to hold it together until the evening, when you were laying down with Jake, and you automatically felt a little bit better because of the fact that you were with your boyfriend, who was your safe space and comfort person, but you were still not quite calmed down. Jake was rubbing your arms with his, you wrapped up against him, and he had no idea that he was going to unintentionally cause a near breakdown within the next couple of minutes. 

It wasn’t for another few moments before one of his nails caught the perfect angle to end up scratching your arm, causing you to gasp in pain and surprise, and him to immediately panic and apologize. He kissed right over the spot that he had accidentally created, attempting to soothe it. However, with how worked up you had been from your long day, this was the straw that broke the camel’s back, and Jake’s heart broke when he realized there were tears forming in your eyes. He immediately wiped them away, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead, hoping on everything that you would be okay. 

He hugged you tighter, whispering soft comforts while his hand was gently running up and down your arm, trying to massage the feeling of pain away, but all he was doing was making you aware of how uneven your arms felt, and he had no idea that he was making it worse until you had teardrops rolling down your face, trying to resist the urge to scratch your other arm, making it match the same pain so you could relax again. He wiped those tears away immediately as well, pressing a kiss on nearly every spot on your face, hoping to get a smile to break onto your face. 

Unfortunately, after a couple more minutes of those, you couldn’t take it anymore, and ripped out of his grasp, using your own nails to run down your other arm, tears steadily flowing. He immediately grabbed your hands, pulling you close into his chest and firmly but not harshly keeping your hands away from your arm, holding you as you gave up in his hold, sobbing. 

“It’s okay, baby. You’re going to be okay. It’s okay, honey, it’s okay…” 

He knew you probably weren’t processing a lot of what he was saying, so he simply repeated the same words of comfort, keeping you close to him and making sure you were wrapped up tightly in his arms, pressing kisses to the top of your head. The pressure was helping you relax and was also keeping you from hurting yourself, and he stayed like that until you stopped crying, wiping your tears away with his thumbs, holding you until you eventually exhausted yourself. He was the boyfriend who could easily pick you up, helping you to bed, and holding you until you fell asleep in his arms. You knew you struggled, but you also knew that he would always be here for you.

~ taglist : @jake-and-johnnies-slut @gvf23 @maddytheweird @707xn @elliem505 @ilydeaky @maryx2xx @oobleoob @aemrsy @jasperthefriendlyghostt

~ if you'd like to be added to my taglist, click here!

~ my inbox is open, come chat!

[reimeichan]

At some point during our recovery, we went from defaulting to thinking anything any of us did throughout the day/our life as just "me" and started differentiating them by alter. And at first that was definitely useful! Early on, doing that helped us spot the patterns and better understand each part of us as best as we could. It also helped validate our existence to ourselves, especially those of us who kept slipping into denial or who had a more tenuous grasp on their sense of identity.

But I've realized that we've perhaps leaned too far in that direction yet again, and while there's nothing inherently wrong with saying stuff like "this is x's favorite color" or "y bought this plushie"... when we start blaming each other for actions and pointing fingers instead of accepting that the other alter is as much a part of me as "I" am, we end up pushing each other away. I've been inadvertently distancing myself from Green's cranky moods and thus failing to realize that Green's crankiness is my crankiness and thus something that I need to address and allow myself to experience. Or, I've been trying to convince myself that any childish behavior that I've been exhibiting lately is because of a child alter co-fronting or otherwise influencing me, and while that may be true... well. There's nothing wrong with being childish, and I should embrace that as a part of me instead of thinking of it as belonging to "someone else".

Trying to find that balance between honoring each alter as an individual with their own unique thoughts and opinions and wants and needs, while also acknowledging them as parts of myself (and that I am also a part of them) is difficult. I don't necessarily think we're doing a bad job of it, but it's definitely something I'd like to be better about.

[eloise175]

With the release of chapter 138 of the manhwa, we got to see the first attempt at brainwash up close, and also how Penelope’s suspicions cement themselves as true. Time for another chapter analysis and theory-crafting session RAAAAH 🦅🦅 (be mindful that it contains spoilers!)

We’ve seen before how Penelope had this idea that the Laila was Ivonne, and it appears that she’s becoming more and more convinced of it.

Penelope is very much creeped out by this, and also doesn’t feel inclined to interact with ‘Ivonne’ more than necessary since this signals the ending of hard mode approach. Though that does not stop ‘Ivonne’ from trying to get close to her…or better yet, to play victim whenever Penelope’s around, to try and make it pass off as Penelope’s doing, with fake tears and everything.

After a conversation, which Penelope cuts short (understandable), ‘Ivonne’ tries to follow her but trips and falls. To someone else it might look like Penelope might’ve done it (that is exactly what ‘Ivonne’ aims at).

Penelope catches her mid-fall, and notices with dread for the second time that ‘Ivonne’ is unnaturally cold, just as you’d expect a corpse to be.

This is the part where Penelope gets overwhelmed; it hits her that this might truly not be the real Ivonne and so Penelope tells her to pretend like she doesn’t exist, she’s basically telling her to do whatever she wants because she won’t intervene with her plans.

This is where you can see how things are starting to affect Penelope mentally, but also physically as she will become increasingly thinner because she avoids meals to not be anywhere near the ‘real daughter’.

During this, Reynold comes back from training assumedly, and something interesting happens with him, something that can be seen in his eyes, basically that strange glow.

His change in demeanor is very odd, as he tells Penelope off for whatever reason, accusing her of wanting to hit Ivonne all along. It all spirals when he uses Penelope’s past against her, aka what she told him in the attic, saying that her behavior is the motive she isn’t treated as an Eckhart.

It makes something in Penelope snap, because she actually had high hopes for Reynold, but in the end she got disappointed again. Her words “You haven’t changed at all.” get Reynold out whatever trance he was in and he follows after her where he apologizes for having misunderstood. This is where the chapter ends currently.

From here the theory-crafting/speculating starts.

Some time ago, SUOL-nim made a post on her Twitter/X account where she posted this image:

This is one of those moments when you applaud the artist for their great attention for details, because if you look closely there’s a pattern going on. Both Reynold and Derrick have this pink highlight at the bottom of their eyes, but when you look at Ivonne, she has a green highlight.

I was suspicious when I first saw it, but looking at it now, it was obviously overshadowing.

We can see it more clearly here, right under her pupils where the green spots appear. It looks unnatural and artificial, almost as if it wasn’t meant to be there in the first place.

It could be related to the glow that appears in Reynold’s eyes when he is under the control of the brainwash.

I think that Reynold wasn’t supposed to break free of the brainwash here. But when he does shake off the effects of the mind control, you can see how his gaze changes from indifferent/angry, back to normal.

When there’s that unnatural glint in his pupil, his eyes look lifeless, with most of the light having been sucked away from them, and the usual pinkish highlights turn a murky grey. Even the blue’s shade looks darker and more muted.

Maybe this might be the initial stage of the brainwash? What if it changes and becomes even more evident the longer the target is under the effects of the brainwash?

Tbh I’m curious to see how the others’ eyes changes under the effects of the brainwash and how they look even while resisting it. After the greenhouse scene (which is going to be in the upcoming episodes) it is hinted that Callisto seemed to resist being brainwashed, can’t wait for that.

[belle--ofthebrawl]

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 2.6k

Pairing: Ifrit/Rain, mentions of Ifrit/Dewdrop/Rain

Tags: Public Masturbation, Semi-public blowjobs, possessive behavior, Cuckolding, kink denial on Dew's part but it's fine he's fine it's fine they're all fine.

Summary:

"Dewdrop." He finishes stupidly.

Rain shrugs, a strap of his camisole falling down one shoulder with the motion.

"My Dewdrop…" he muses, tracing patterns on Ifrit's thigh. "I like the sound of that."

Ifrit doesn't remember how the night began and he's certain he won't remember how it ends but that doesn't matter right now. Right now he's got a nice buzz going, a nice grassy spot under a tree to stare at the sky and his hand wrapped around his cock because hey. Why not.

If he concentrates, he can hear the others by the bonfire, still whooping and hollering as they dance and fight and fuck. He could join them but that would mean moving more than just his hand across his dick and he's not really feeling it right now. More interested in feeling himself. Maybe one of the others will stumble across, offer their own hand or mouth or even more but for now, Ifrit's intent on a little self-love.

There's no point in saying he's not vain because he absolutely is. This physical form had been good-looking to start with and when he found out he could modify it? Just by moving around or getting inked up? Siblings were practically lining up at the gate for his, heh, personal attention in the gym as a trainer. He was completely focused and professional during classes. But once that session was up? They knew where to find him.

Wasn't just the human Clergy either. Mist liked it when he wrestled with her, winner take all. Alpha needed the occasional beatdown too and Omega was perfect for when he wanted his ankles by his ears and a fat cock pushing so far into his guts he could taste it.

Just thinking about it made a pretty pearl of cum bead up from his tip. He smears it over the ruddy head with his thumb, rolls his hips as he toys with the slit and thinks about the others.

Dew was so cute to rile up. He could get spitting mad over some teasing and all Ifrit would have to do was look down and see where all the blood went. Only made the little guy madder, but all Ifrit had to do to apologize was kiss it until it was all better and the flush on Dew’s face was from pleasure and not fury.

Been a while since they hooked up, Ifrit thinks. A little bittersweetness lies in the memories, how Dew had found himself wrapped up in a new role and a new pack while Ifrit was left behind but he doesn't hold a grudge. Just wishes they could meet up again, see if he still has a temper or he’s gotten it under control. Ifrit's seen the way that multi-ghoul needles him, nothing short of a masterpiece there. He’d love to team up with him to make Dew cry sometime and his cock throbs in agreement.

Then there's that pretty water ghoul. Rain. Ifrit's been dying to get to know him all kinds of ways. See if he gets as wet as Dew used to, before his transition. He saw the two of them earlier, before the party really got going and okay, they looked good together. Dew looked downright snappy whenever someone tried to lure Rain away and that was just adorable. Like a dragon angrily guarding the first shiny trinket of its horde.

Monogamy isn't really a thing to the ghouls. Why would it be? Still, sometimes they can get possessive over each other. Dew's definitely got the worst case of it Ifrit's ever seen over Rain. He'd curled himself tight around the water ghoul, scenting him something fierce. Ifrit could pick it up from halfway across the field. And okay, it was a little cute. New love, and all that.

He blinks. Right, that's how he came to be here pumping his dick. He got so caught up in the vision of Dew and Rain and their entangled limbs, combined with the noises of a few threesomes happening, his mind laid out a beautiful picture of himself sandwiched between the two of them. Maybe he could coach Rain on how best to rile up Dew, get his little cock as red as his face. What to say to make his brow furrow even as he huffs out a too-quick orgasm.

Speaking of…

His balls already tight, Ifrit lets himself go and sighs at the way it aches when he does. He's got better stamina but he's been here a while, whatever he drank is working its dirty little magic on him and the night is still young. Wouldn't want to wear himself out too quickly.

If he listens, he can hear Mist crying in that perfect way she does when someone's licking her cunt and someone else is doing her gills. Belial, she's cute. Maybe he just has a thing for water ghouls, but who wouldn't with all their sensitivities and tendencies to get so wet. Maybe he should get up and join them, attack her gills from the other side and really get her going, get a few fingers stuffed up her cunt, make her squirt like she always does. His hand wraps around himself again and before he knows it, he's got his tongue in Rain's gills instead, frenching him from the inside while he bounces on Ifrit's lap, claws digging into his shoulders. Feeling Rain gasp for air as he creams around Ifrit's cock, Dew’s eyes dark with fury.

“You look like you're having fun.” Comes a soft voice and Ifrit chuckles, squeezing the base of his cock.

“Just thinking about you.” He says honestly, cracking his eye to peer at Rain. He looks good tonight. Always looks good but this is the first time Ifrit's seen him in something other than his uniform, a pair of light blue shorts that skim the tops of his thighs and a sleeveless shirt with thin straps and thinner fabric. Ifrit’s eyes lazily slide up and then firmly look back down, no shame. Dew’s not here to hiss and snarl, Ifrit's going to take advantage. As much as Rain will let him.

“We’ve never been properly introduced.” Rain muses, coming closer. “I know your name though. Seen you around. Seen some footage.”

“Do you like what you see?” Ifrit asks, angling himself so Rain can get an eyeful of his body, toned muscles and cock on full display. Like before. He's not shy about his own vanity. He half expects his confidence to intimidate the quiet water ghoul but Rain…Rain laughs at him. No one's ever laughed at Ifrit before.

He doesn't know if he likes it or not.

“Dew said you were cocky.” He drops to his hands and knees, tail coiling behind him. His eyes narrow as he comes up between Ifrit's thighs and smiles with a little too much fang for comfort. “He wouldn't be happy if he knew I was with you.”

“Then why are you here anyway?” Ifrit asks bluntly, trying to regain a foothold in the strange shift that he's pretty sure just happened.

“Because sometimes it's better to ask for forgiveness than permission.” Rain tells him with a nip to his skin that sends Ifrit reeling. No way this is happening. He can still smell Dew on Rain's clothes, smoke and anger and lust. So much lust.

"Isn't Dewdrop your, uh…" Boyfriend is the first word that comes to mind but it doesn't feel right. Too human, too exclusive. Packmate would be the best option yet it still feels too casual for whatever the hell those two have going on. He and Dew were packmates and they were never so touchy-feely as he is with Rain. He vaguely remembers Dew getting a little weird about Aether when he was first summoned but it still had nothing on how he behaved now. Rain seems to humor it and continue to do his own thing when Dew's not looking but he still doesn't want to get on the little guy's bad side and ruin any possibilities.

"Dewdrop." He finishes stupidly.

Rain shrugs, a strap of his camisole falling down one shoulder with the motion.

"My Dewdrop…" he muses, tracing patterns on Ifrit's thigh. "I like the sound of that."

His fingers tickle dangerously high and Ifrit squirms against the tree.

"Well," Rain continues thoughtfully, casually wrapping his hand around the base of Ifrit's cock, hiding the sudden flare of his tattoos as he begins to stroke him slowly. "My Dewdrop said he didn't want you touching me. So don't touch me. And we'll be alright."

Ifrit feels far from alright at this moment in time, but then Rain's bowing to dab his soft tongue to the underside and he can't find it in him to argue. The first gentle lap hits him harder than a punch, the second, somehow even worse. Rain entertains himself with Ifrit's cock like he's got all the time in the world; sliding the foreskin to and fro over the ridge, mouthing at the tip and going even lower to fit both of Ifrit's balls in his mouth. Going back up and rubbing his cheek against the head to smear the beads of pre cum all across his face.

"These are pretty," he remarks, so casual as if he was admiring a garden or a display of jewelry. Ifrit doesn't even know what he's talking about at first until Rain starts tracing the outline of his tattoos with his tongue. He got them done months ago, glyphs written and designed to further pleasure a partner. Maybe one or two thrown in so no matter how he thrusts, he always hits the best spots.

"Enchanted?" He asks, looking at Ifrit with his dark eyes, pressing a kiss to the shaft. Ifrit nods stupidly, fingers curling in the grass to keep from grabbing Rain's head and pushing him down again, make that pretty mouth drool with how Ifrit would fuck it.

"Thought so." Rain says with satisfaction. "I like the way it tingles when I touch them. Must feel good to get fucked by a cock like this."

"I've had no complaints." Ifrit gasps as Rain lays his tongue flat to slap his cock against it. He's such an active participant in his past flings that it feels off-putting to just sit here and let himself be…be toyed with. He doesn't even think Rain's blinked once since settling between his thighs and it's unnerving.

"When Dew calms down a bit," Rain starts, moving Ifrit's cock this way and that to admire all of his tattoos as they glow. "With this whole possessive thing. Maybe I'll ride it."

"Fuh-" Ifrit hisses as a large blurt of precum oozes out of his slit. Rain drinks it down then goes even further, opening his jaw for Ifrit to easily slide in without grazing any fangs. "Fucking, oh, oh that's good."

He's so pent up from touching himself earlier, thinking he wouldn't have to worry about stamina. Now he's got Rain making the sweetest, choked noises as he fucks his face on Ifrit's dick, nice and sloppy, getting his saliva all over Ifrit's balls while he gags on it. Ifrit's tearing up handfuls of grass as Rain brutalizes his own throat, moaning and trying to stifle his moans at the same time, lest Dewdrop catch them in the act and get royally pissed off.

Rain would probably just kiss him with a mouth of Ifrit's cum, his brain offers up and it's over.

He cums with a pained noise, faster than he'd like to but again he’d been working himself up decently beforehand and if he knew Rain was going to go to town on him, he would have saved his stamina. He tries to warn Rain with a stuttered exclamation as his body locks up. Rain just pulls away to tug at his cock and Ifrit starts praying Rain will put it back in his mouth and swallow but he keeps pumping his hand at first. Aims so the first spray lands thick over his eyelashes, the second glossing his full lips, smearing the head around before kissing it and pushing down to take Ifrit in, letting him finish directly down his tight throat.

“Fuck!” Ifrit shouts, hitting his head on the tree when he throws it back, trying to fuck Rain's mouth for the last few flexes of his cock. Rain keeps still, lets his jaw hang open as Ifrit pushes his cum back in as it drools out, relishing the slide of Rain’s tongue on his skin even as he slips into oversensitivity and the friction is too much. Rain lets him go with a final kiss and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand as he sits up tucking a lock of hair behind his ear. Ifrit's cum is dabbed off Rain’s eyelashes with his ring finger, also licked clean. There's something almost feline about him as he does it, looking so beautiful in the fractured moonlight coming down from between the branches.

"Can I," Ifrit starts. "Do you…anything?" He sounds stupid to himself and can't even imagine what he sounds like to Rain, staring down at him with a passive, unreadable expression.

"I already got mine." He says carelessly, flopping back and spreading his thighs to show off the wet fabric of his tight little shorts clinging to his cunt. Ifrit swallows thickly, eyes riveted on the way he drags his fingers softly over it. He can see the way they bump over the shape of his swollen clit and Ifrit moans right along with Rain when he rubs the tip of it.

"Swiss and Aether." He tells Ifrit, a subtle lift at the corners of his mouth. He raises a leg and uses the motion to flip himself over, lifting his tail to reveal another damp spot just underneath that's slowly drooled out enough cum to combine with the first one.

"Mountain."

Ifrit practically convulses with the longing stab of arousal the sight gives him, wheezing as Rain wiggles his shorts down to give him a better look at his well-used holes, swaying his hips and letting them gape for the briefest of moments, before shimmying his clothes back on and doing something elegant and twisted that results in him standing up, hand on his hip. Looking down at Ifrit with an amused little smile.

“Dew always forgives me if I confess everything. Helps to give him a demonstration too…So he knows what he missed out on.” It's said in such a blaisè tone for all the heavy implications in the words, Ifrit can't quite believe what he just heard. Just stares open mouthed at Rain with his soft cock wilting against his thigh and his ears ringing. Rain covers his laugh and leans close. Lets Ifrit get a nice view of his tits down his top as he takes two fingers, the two he'd touched himself with, and pets Ifrit's tongue. Before he knows what he's doing, he closes his lips around them and sucks, shivering at the faint taste of salt and sex.

“You're cute.” Rain says. “I hope I get to play with you again.”

He tries to say something but what exactly he wants to say he doesn't know. It just comes out as a stupid little uh-huh around Rain’s fingers as he withdraws them. He chases them but then Rain’s giving him a little head shake, wiping them on Ifrit's cheek and he falls back, defeated and stunned. Rain giving him that mischievous little smile the whole time.

“See you ‘round.” He says, tapping those same two fingers against his eyebrows, giving Ifrit a lazy salute. The fingers go from his temple to his mouth, where Rain spreads them and licks lasciviously in between with a wicked little wink before turning and walking off, leaving Ifrit to stare at the way his hips swing in well fucked and insouciant little half circles. How he's not limping is beyond anyone's guess.

“Damn…” he wheezes, head hitting the trunk. “Just… damn.”

What a night.

[kalinysu]

𝐑𝐄𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐄. — Akaza x F!Reader

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You were a normal human, a little sick as well. You had issues walking and needed nightly doses of medicine to help you get better. One day, you had went out into the nearby forest to pick some berries late at night. You met a man named Akaza, and the next thing you knew, you had woken up in a place that looked to be someone’s home.

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Abusive behavior, Stockholms syndrome, kidnapping, dark themes.

𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: I got this idea from a story on a otome game I used to play all of the time. Just a little modified and differently written.

You had been sitting in the forest for a while now, picking the little red berries off of the bush you sat next to and placing them in the basket beside you. You weren’t supposed to be outside, and especially not this late, but you needed some fresh air. You had stumbled and struggled to get over to the spot due to your illness, but with time you eventually made it without being spotted.

When you were about to get up and head inside, you found yourself not being able to get up and walk. Maybe it was cause by the position you were sitting in, but you couldn’t stand. And the nights cold air made your cough worse. You had began to cough and sneeze more frequently, until you heard approaching footsteps.

At first, Akaza planned to just ignore your frail figure almost laying on the ground. He despised the weak, and would have never even stopped to look at you if you didn’t speak to him. “U-uhm..” You stuttered, unsure of how to ask for help. Though when he turned around, you both looked equally stunned. He was a demon, definitely. You could see his fangs in his slightly opened mouth, and he didn’t look human at all. For him, those pink eyes and black hair of yours had set something off within him. You looked exactly like his late wife.

You were unable to speak or move, your whole body trembling as he approached you. Your eyes fixated on his every move, wondering if he was going to hurt you or not. You let out a small squeak as he lifted you up from the ground. “M-my home— it’s back over that way…” You said, weakly pointing in the direction of your village. He looked where you were pointing, then looking back down at you in his arms. He simply ignored your request of taking you back home. You wanted to fight back, to protest against him taking you but soon enough, everything went black.

You woke up to the sound of shifting beside you, followed by a pattern of uneasy breathing. When you noticed the pink haired demon beside you once again, you gasped, immediately sitting up. His yellow eyes had been fixated on you most likely the whole entire time you were asleep. “Please, lay back down darling.” He said, placing his hand against your chest and pushing you back down into a laying position. “Don’t worry about a thing, i’ve even retrieved your medicine for you.” He said, placing a hand on your head and gently stroking your hair. You flinched at his touch, but you were so frozen in fear that you could hardly even think straight.

“N-no I.. I need to go back home.” You said, trying to get up but he wasn’t very willing to let you do so. “Home? This is your home, my love.” He said, wrapping his arms around you and holding you close. “M-my friends and family…” — “You don’t need friends. You have me anyways. And we can start our own family.” He said, only causing you to panic even more. He seemed pleased with the thought of having a family, but you were scared. He was a demon, you barely knew him and you were still sick.

“There’s nothing good back at that village of yours. Nobody strong enough as I am to protect you from demons. You have nothing to worry about. As long as you obey and listen to me, you’ll always be safe.” He said, placing a kiss on your forehead. His words were reassuring, but the last sentence frightened you a bit. You were safe from others, but were you safe from him? What would he do if you disobeyed him? You were a little afraid to find out. You stayed silent, looking away from him, which is when you noticed your clothes were changed. You were wearing a pink kimono, with a white circle pattern. It faded into a snowflake pattern at the bottoms. You began to grow more and more nervous. Has he really seen your body? You were trembling by now.

“There’s no need to be afraid, I already told you.” He said, sitting up and getting up out of bed. He walked around to your side and helped you sit up. He then carefully lifted you into his arms and sat you down on the cushion in front of the vanity. “Stay here, i’ll be back soon.” He said, gently patting you on the head before leaving the room. You could move, but just barely. Not enough energy to be able to get out of the room.

But it didn’t hurt to try. Your shakily stood up, taking a few shaky steps towards the door. But when you opened it, you ended up falling. Or so you though. When you looked up, you saw Akaza once again. He did not look happy to see you trying to leave only a minute after he told you not too. You were ruining his idea of the perfect wife. His old wife, Koyuki, never tried to escape him. Naturally, he was a little pissed. Shoving you back into the room, causing you to fall. He walked in fully and shut the door behind him, placing down the hair pins he had grabbed onto the vanity.

You were quite shaken, a little afraid to even make eye contact with him. When he walked over to you and grabbed your arm, you couldn’t help but let out a small whimper, tears beginning to well up in your eyes. He forced you to sit back on the cushion, forcefully wiping your eyes before your tears fell. “Don’t you dare cry.” He said, hearing your sniffles. He simply ignored your whimpers, working on your hair. “See? I already told you. If you listen to me, you won’t get hurt. Just don’t upset me.” He said, giving you a small smile and wiping away your tears. “Don’t cry.” He said. Shakily, your nodded, trying your best to hold back your tears.

Over time, you had began to lose hope in ever leaving, and began to rely more and more on Akaza. Anytime you wanted to leave the room, he’d accompany you, always having at least one hand on you if not both. He never let you out of his sight, and of course that meant he’s seen every inch of your body.

You were attached to him now. You couldn’t go for even five minutes without his touch, you need him near you at all time. He was pleased with the outcome, loving the way you relied on him for everything. Sometimes, if you ruined the perfect wife image he had, he’d either physically hurt you, or simply leave you in the room on your own over night to teach you a lesson, forcing you into the mold of a woman who was long passed. Until you were practically her, and he was ecstatic about it.

You were happy as well, him hurting you or leaving you was very rare. He had also stopped calling “Koyuki”, and allowed you to pick your own kimonos and hairpins. He allowed you to be yourself when it came to appearance sometimes, but you had to keep your personality exactly the same or there would be consequences.

He was even happier when you were able to walk normally, and your illness was starting to go away. Though sometimes he did threaten to get rid of your medicine if you tried to escape. Last night, you needed help finding something but Akaza was on a mission. When he returned and you weren’t in the room, he was livid. He didn’t let you explain, and immediately put it as you trying to escape, even though you were just looking for him. He hurt you badly, and left you on your own. This was only the second time he left you, and it was for way longer too. So naturally when he left, you sobbed for hours.

When morning came, you had woke up to the sound of the door opening. “A-..Akaza?” You called out to him from in bed when you noticed he was finally back after leaving you over night. You were quick to get out of bed and hug him tightly, just as he expected.

“Good morning, love. Did you learn your lesson?” He asked, not giving you any physical attention until he was sure you weren’t going to mess up again. You nodded in response. “I thought about it all last night.. I won’t do it again, I promise.” You said. He smiled, placing a hand on your head with a small chuckle.

“Good girl.”

[chaifootsteps]

I think there's an argument to be made in favor of showing the reality of what Angel deals with on the day to day, both on the gear he wears and the SA he faces from Val.

but these kinds of scenes can very easily be exploitative; used for cheap shock value & end up fetishizing that abuse by presenting it as titillating. it's long happened to female characters where the violence becomes an excuse to show them brutalized or with their clothes ripped off and given how often Angel is sexualized it can just as easily happen to him.

Addict managed to communicate a whole history of sexual abuse committed by Valentino with just a forced kiss and a hard cut to Angel having a breakdown in his room. The scene focused on Angel's emotional distress rather than the act itself, so it avoided objectifying him further and was still effective

this is part of a wider pattern already established by Helluva Boss, where abuse is treated in the least sensitive, most sledgehammer blunt and cartoony way possible.

going by HB, abusers are:

always obvious and easy to spot,

they're complete monsters devoid of any life or interests of their own,

they have no inner lives whatsoever because they only exist to hurt the victim (Stella stays around the house despite not liking Stolas, Crimson wants to force Moxxie into a gay marriage despite being homophobic - to the guy who put his son in prison in the first place!!) - they're inconsistent and unknowable,

they abuse their victim openly in front of others everyone goes along with and tacitly approves of it (Stella's friends happily laugh at her jokes disparaging a demon prince who could kill them all despite knowing he's in earshot)

they cannot be easily stopped even when they have far less power, either in magic or social standing, than the person they're abusing (Stolas and Stella, again)

they hang around long past when they should despite the cast having ample reason to proactively do something to stop them (everyone leaves Crimson alive despite killing all his minions, Stolas knows Stella has ordered a hit on him but probably still lets Octavia spend weekends with her??)

they are fundamentally Bad People. None of the 'good' characters can every be called out for being abusive, what they do is funny - because they are fundamentally Good People. It doesn't matter how many traits Stolas and Stella have in common, he is Good and she is Bad. It also doesn't matter that Stolas sexually coerced someone for a season and a half, neglected his daughter and abused his servants, and barely feels bad about his own infidelity. He is Good so anything he does can be excused. Same with Loona - beating people is bad, but it's OK for her to give her dad a black eye and beat his head in with a picture frame, because she's one of the Good Guys. Same with Blitzo demeaning Moxxie constantly in the workplace - it's funny when he calls Moxxie fat, it's abuse when Mammon does it to Fizz

Abusers are fundamentally Other from Us, and we never need to examine our own behaviors as long as we know we are fundamentally Good.

like how is any of this making the world a better place? or advancing the understanding of abuse? it's an embarassingly dated and in places actively harmful depiction of what abuse is or isn't (I don't even want to get into the bad takes I've seen surrounding Stol/tz and what coercion is or isn't, but you can probably add that to the list too)

if the Angel scenes are as brutal as they sound then the rating should be an 18. I don't entirely blame Viv for that, I know sometimes ratings boards have a weird habit of treating works that have LGBT content as somehow 'more adult' than movies with straight up rape and SA scenes in them (though HH is both, so idk how literal bondage gear didn't up the rating), but I hope against hope there's some kind of trigger warning for this somewhere, and it isn't just dropped on the viewer's lap in order to shock them further with the world's bluntest and most graphic animated scene of SA it can

This. All of this, every word.

[ryuichirou]

Re: Gaslighter Rook. I wanna preface this by saying ofc people are free to hc whatever they want but I have some issues with what the other person said and how dismissive they acted about the whole thing. I apologize if this invites drama or discourse, that is absolutely not my intention, I moreso just want to share the other side's point of view for the sake of balance since you said you don't mind civil discussion even if we disagree. Firstly, yes a lot of the arguments for this come from the labcoat vignette. However, it is not all just because of one line. In the same vignette, Rook tells Vil he can't trust his own eyes because Rook knows him better than Vil knows himself which is a very common gaslighter tactic. He then further mentions that people will leave him unless he does what Rook tells him to and puts down the "me or everyone else" argument. Rook further tries to undermine Vil's ability to trust other people in Vil's dorm vignette by saying the other dorm members would never appreciate Vil's efforts for them even if they knew about them – a blatant lie that however still makes Vil withdraw from talking to them about it. During Vil's overblot, Rook refuses to give Vil personal space while he's having a mental breakdown and repeatedly asserts that Vil "doesn't deserve" it as well as claiming to be responsible for punishing him. After VDC, Rook not only claims that his vote was the deciding one despite having no way of knowing that but also claims it was the objectively correct thing to do as, again, Vil didn't deserve to win, simply because having a mental breakdown is ugly (since he was referring to the overblot, not the attempted cursing – which was never confirmed to be intended to be lethal by the way, that was also just Rook's assumption, one Vil, a character who already struggles to communicate with people especially if he feels they see him negatively, didn't fight but also didn't confirm). I also take issue with the claim that it cannot be abuse just because Vil respects Rook. Even ignoring how often irl abuse victims don't realize they're abused because of their warped perception of their abuser, we have examples of this even in twst. Mrs. Rosehearts wasn't a wonderful mother who suddenly became abusive when Riddle stopped making excuses for her behavior. Abuse doesn't stop being abuse because it isn't recognized and to a lot of us gaslighting victims, Rook's behavior is spot-on with things we went through, hence why we call him a gaslighter. Oh and a small note before anyone claims anything, according to multiple psychology sources, gaslighters aren't always aware of what they are doing. Me and others calling Rook a gaslighter don't automatically mean he WANTS to be evil toward Vil. Some of us see it that way while others don't but regardless, acting as though this headcanon comes from one single out of context line and not from a pattern of behavior Rook consistently displays feels very disingenuous and like it's trying to make us seem crazy when all we try to do is explain why we may not be comfortable with a character.

You don’t have to explain why you are uncomfortable. Neither me nor that Anon have made any judgment about it, and frankly, who cares why you don’t like a character. You don’t need reasoning for not liking him, a person might just think Rook’s hair is stupid or dislike characters with green eyes, and that’s enough. None of this makes you crazy, and this isn’t that deep.

If you look at the first ever reply I did on this topic, I said it then (and after that I said it time and time again):

Based on what you’re saying, your opinion is influenced by your past experiences. Which isn’t a bad thing, we all have our own biases, but it makes a proper discussion quite difficult, especially when there is trauma involved.

Because we love Rook as much as you hate him, and I fail to see why we should align our feelings and experiences with yours. This is not a public debate platform, this is not a discord server, this is my personal blog, and my opinion is always going to be prevalent here. I usually try to take the position “agree to disagree” also to avoid situations like this.

You’ve said that you just want to explain and share your side of the conversation, but in that case claiming that the other side’s opinion is dangerous or uninformed is a pretty shitty thing to do, just as it is shitty to completely ignore the points they were trying to make and put words into their mouths instead, alluding to them victimblaming and dismissing real victim’s struggles. What I’ve said multiple times at this point is that Rook Hunt isn’t a gaslighter. Not that it’s Vil’s fault for trusting him, not that if Vil respects him that it automatically makes Rook not an abuser (Anon didn’t say that either). Not that Rook is always right. Not that Rook has never hurt Vil. I’ve even said that we can’t say for certain that Rook’s brutal honesty is always helpful and doesn’t affect Vil in any bad way:

Maybe sometimes it would be better for Vil to just take it easy and relax instead of perfecting every single thing, but this isn’t what Vil wants for himself: he doesn’t want to be pampered, he wants to be appreciated for his hard work.

Just because this is what Vil wants doesn’t mean that this is what’s best for him. I still don’t think that it makes Rook an abuser, by the way (which is also a completely different topic from Rook being a gaslighter). You have ignored every single argument I’ve made in all of my previous replies, which is fine, but then I don’t really see the reason for you to explain yourself if you’re not even going to listen to me again.

No one tried to paint you as crazy, and even if I or Anon thought that this entire argument (argument, not you) was weird, it doesn’t concern you. If Rook Hunt hurts you, why would you even interact with any discourse about him? Why did that very first Anon confront me for not calling Rook a gaslighter, if all you (collective “you”) people wish for is to explain your point of view? I am not an emperor of Rook Hunt land; I am a rando writing hcs about dicks on the internet. And Rook Hunt is a character of a gacha game.

I’ll repost another thing from my very first reply.

Just ignore shit that you don’t like because while it might be traumatic for you, to us it might be one of the few things that bring us happiness.

Please read this part carefully. And respectfully, let’s stop this. I don’t agree with any of your points/interpretation, I find them drastically off from Rook’s actual characterisation to the point that it’s almost baffling at times (I have read all the scenes you’ve mentioned and I disagree with your every single point.) And guess what, it’s absolutely okay. Like I, wow, have said time and time again, we all have our biases. Yours happens to be to read everything that Rook does in the worst way possible and to compare him to Riddle’s mom. Mine happens to be very different, and insisting on me just missing the point or thinking or feeling the wrong way or not being educated enough about gaslighting or abuse (something that I also experienced, and you are aware of that) feels pretty disrespectful. This isn’t what I meant when I said that I don’t mind a civil conversation. This doesn’t feel like a conversation. Because, you know…

Even if it feels completely off to how I view it, I can appreciate or at least respect it if they respect the way I do things. And don’t imply that I don’t get it or I am stupid.

I won’t write an actual rebuttal to your points because one thing hasn’t changed from my very first post about the topic: this isn’t about Rook Hunt. And I don’t want to discuss the so-called danger of fictional tropes that don’t even apply to the character in my view. Also, stating that the way I headcanon a character’s behaviour and share my thoughts with others is dangerous to other people in real life (because someone is going to take my opinion as a course for their actions, I guess?) is also ironic. Why isn’t me drawing problematic ships or writing dark headcanons dangerous then? It’s the same logic, I have heard this argument multiple times, and I fail to see how it’s different right now. Rook Hunt is not a real person, we see his interactions with others from all points of view, he has actual writers with their own intentions (none of which is to portray Rook as a terrible, atrocious person, he’s not even 100% a villain, he’s a character that helped the princess in the original story, and I believe that his writers keep that in mind, ffs), and it is drastically different from the way I would treat this situation in real life: exactly because I would have to base my opinion on the lack of other perspectives and not witnessing the situations myself, and a bunch of other factors connected to the fact that this is real life, and in those cases I would prioritise the victim of someone’s suspicious actions. What a surprise.

I also believe that Katsu and I did our part so you could easily ignore our Rook-centric posts that make you uncomfortable. So please do your part and don’t interact with our Rook-centric posts (this applies to anyone who is deeply uncomfortable with this character or any other character, for that matter). Coming up with ways to mention Rook in posts so it's easily mutable for you and only you and still getting treated like an abuse apologist who spreads dangerous ideas makes one feel kind of silly for ever trying to be considerate and respectful. You’ll have to come up with ways to deal with that on your own now. This conversation is over.

This is also the last post I’m writing on this topic, every follow-up ask or comment about it (from anyone, anywhere) won’t be replied to.

[goblinsofdiscord]

The Enneagram Explained ⚔️ Defence Mechanisms & Self-Sabotaging Behaviors 💣🔪

By Larissa

(This is an excerpt from a workshop I taught in 2023) If you want the accompanying "Unf*ck Yourself" mini workshop + pdf workbook join the membership and get it instantly. I apologize for how dry and cringe the names/descriptions are.

To watch/listen instead:

One of the main ways you can stop operating out of autopilot, quit the shit patterns and actually get what you want is by:

Being with the discomfort of not operating out of your personality trap + shadow (being conscious, making different choices, regulating your nervous system in the moment with breath, tapping, affirmations).

Integrating the opposite of your personality's "belief" (the shadow).

This sounds simple but it actually requires a considerable amount of bravery and determination. Which is why most people who learn the Enneagram don’t actually use it for self-growth. Because it’s more fun to chit chat about and study than to actually apply to our own lives.

The personality’s belief structure creates behaviors and defense mechanisms. These beliefs and behaviors create the shadow. 

The defense mechanisms come from Freud's psychoanalytic theories and have been correlated to Enneagram theory by multiple sources and evolved over time with other people's ideas (Fritz Perls, Oscar Ichazo, Helen Palmer, Naranjo, etc). I won’t be getting into any of that, I’m just going to apply them in how I see them as useful. I’ve also added behaviors that I notice in each of the types.

I’m not sharing these to shame anyone or be judgmental, because we’re ALL doing at least one, if not three or more of these patterns. I’m using the Enneagram as a framework to show you how to spot patterns, unuseful beliefs and shadow at a much quicker pace than if you’re just doing it from just generic journaling prompts or waiting for something to “happen” before you address it. This way you have a pathway to start looking at the problems before your life goes to total shit. 

Each type’s flawed belief (“If I am not ___ I don’t exist /I am not me/I am not safe”) manifests itself through behaviors and actions. 

This process is unconscious. Even if you were aware that you were doing some of this stuff, it’s not your fault. It’s what we were programmed to do. But by integrating our shadow and coming into acceptance and wholeness we get to make better choices, think supportive thoughts, feel better, more useful and aligned feelings. And you can also catch yourself in the act and check yourself before you wreck yourself.

ENNEAGRAM TYPE 1 - “DADDY”

1’s prefer to see themselves as being conscientious and above the degenerate riff raff. They’re proper, correct and in integrity, therefore they cannot see themselves as lazy, foolish, wrong, messy or "bad.” Of course, when going too hard into the personality type’s false belief, it creates a big ol’ shadow. 

1’s avoid outwardly expressing anger to remain “objective” and in control. Because expressing “anger” is “bad.” To be imperfect, incompetent, wrong or out-of-control is death to the 1. This mechanism reinforces the 1's ego because it assures them that they are right, proper, perfect, and correct. Therefore, their survival and identity continues. However, because the 1 is an anger/gut type, they’re constantly churning irritation factories.

If the 1 catches themselves in the act, or someone else does (gasp), it may increase the dissonance between the Shadow and Unintegrated Self if they don’t understand that it’s just their personality bs. Because the 1 utilizes “anger” they are unlikely to allow themselves to see themselves as incorrect, in the wrong, imperfect. 

How this manifests:

Reaction Formation: 1’s can express the opposite of their actual feelings and desires. They do this to reinforce their ego as “not being angry” (being perfect, right, correct, proper, good). Expressing anger is “bad” or what people who have no self-control do. 

Channeling unexpressed anger into physical activities - going hog wild on cleaning, obsessively exercising, restricting food/hedonistic delights, perfectionism fixations, taking a red pen to their life.

Criticality + judgmental concerns projected onto people around them, for their “own good.” To the 1 they’re being responsible, doing the right thing. 

Splitting: Seeing things in black and white under stress (this is good, this is evil). In super low health this can lead to extreme behaviors, like witch-hunting, finger-pointing, being the ‘voice of God’ / judge, jury and executioner.

Rationalization: 1's can rationalize to justify their self-righteousness. “This is the most correct, right, or efficient way to do the thing, therefore I am right and you are wrong.” If you don’t do what I say, it will be to your own detriment.

Hypocrisy: Projecting their own denied desires, feelings and even private behaviors by condemning the same desires, feelings and behaviors in others. They know the right way to be, and you are not being it. They can become preachy about whatever they take issue with, in order to unconsciously overcompensate for their secret bad behavior or naughty thoughts. This ties directly to Shadow Work, because 1's and 1-fixers can have a pungent Shadow full of all kinds of misdeeds and “dark” desires, but be totally blind to them while criticizing others for the same things.

Example: The anti-gay politician who is having an affair with a man, or the barbiturate-poppin' mom who wages a neighborhood campaign against drugs. 

OCD: Obsessively creating more order and rightness in their physical environment, relationships, or self. They can go into “perfecting” mode in order to feel in control of something they cannot control, where they exert order onto their surroundings and right wrongs (like becoming obsessed with cleanliness in their home or laying out ‘rules’ that others must follow). 

ENNEAGRAM TYPE 2 - “MOMMY”

2’s prefer to see themselves as being loving, nurturing, selfless, self-sacrificing, caring towards others, concerned and kind-hearted. Therefore they cannot see themselves as selfish, self-centered, giving to get, cold, heartless or "bad”. Of course, when going too hard into the personality type’s false belief, it creates a big ol’ shadow. 

2’s avoid feeling selfish or needy, by refusing to directly ask to get their needs met or receive what they truly wish from others. 2's unconsciously repress these needs and desires to reinforce their type's ego because it assures them that they are self-sacrificing, needed, good and loving. Therefore their survival continues.

If the 2 catches themselves in the act, or someone else does (gasp), it may increase the dissonance between the Shadow and Unintegrated Self if they don’t understand that it’s just their personality bs. Because the 2 utilizes “pride” they are unlikely to allow themselves to wallow or even acknowledge any wrongdoing or selfishness on their part. It’s the other person’s fault, the 2 is blameless.

How this manifests:

Repression: 2��s hide their needs and "selfish" desires from themselves in order to maintain their caring and indispensable self-image. They use Repression to AVOID feeling needy, unnecessary or rejected. Because of their type structure, they can't see how they are in need of anyone else's help or how they are anything other than self-sacrificing. They cover up these feelings with flattery, offers of help, being intrusive and overly nice. 

2’s prioritize others’ needs in the hopes someone will prioritize theirs. But then when that happens, the 2 goes into rejection mode and wants to get back into position as ‘the helper’ as that’s where their identity is invested.

The 2 projects their needs onto those around them by being overly helpful or intrusive. If they feel like they're not being appreciated or getting their needs met, they can move into covertly "punishing" behaviors to the person they keep giving to or subconsciously create situations in which the person might be forced to give back to them.

Example: The 2 wants help cleaning from their spouse, so over-cleans to the point where they become ill so that their partner is forced to pick up the slack or show them care for all of their self-sacrificing. This can also manifest in ways like them offering to do something and then making the other person wait to receive if they are feeling secretly resentful or not shown adequate appreciation or having their self-image adequately validated.

In low health, 2’s can use “Identification” to take on the needs and worries of those around them as if it’s theirs. They become fretful over other people’s problems. Anything that hurts their loved one hurts them. And it becomes covertly narcissistic, wherein they can make someone else’s suffering about themselves, but also their wins. “If it wasn’t for my help, they wouldn’t have accomplished that.” They can secretly (or not secretly) want undue credit for “help” they’ve provided (whether solicited or not).

2’s use “Reframing” in collaboration with “Repression.” They can reframe their intentions (to maintain a pride in their pure and loving intentions) and reframe others intentions too, lest it burst the sugar-coated bubble they’re desiring to live in or reflect back to them that they’re unwanted.

ENNEAGRAM TYPE 3 - “SHAPESHIFTER”

3’s like to see themselves as impressive, competent, successful and admired or valued for what they do or are. Therefore they cannot see themselves as losers, failures, or less than others. Of course, when going too hard into the personality type’s false belief, it creates a big ol’ shadow. 

3’s avoid feeling like a failure or worthless by adapting to external ideals, competing, and striving. 3's unconsciously use “Identification” to reinforce their type's ego because it assures them that they are valuable, worthy, admired and successful. Therefore their survival continues.

If the 3 catches themselves in the act, or someone else does (gasp), it may increase the dissonance between the Shadow and Unintegrated Self if they don’t understand that it’s just their personality bs. Because the 3 utilizes “deceit” they are unlikely to allow themselves to own their failings or true feelings if it interferes with the image they’re projecting.

How this manifests:

3's use "Identification" as a defense mechanism, by unconsciously assimilating with the "other." They use this to avoid feeling like a failure. How this shows up is that they take on the traits, characteristics, attributes, aesthetics, preferences, values and mannerisms of important people in their life, groups, people they see as valuable and those they admire or envy. They do this to create an image of success (to themselves and/or others).

Denial/Projection: 3’s can blame others for their failures or what isn’t working for them, offloading image fails onto others to distance themselves from shame. Just like they can take on others traits/behaviors/stories, they can offload those same things onto others as well. 

Deception: This collection of traits is their "self image" and where their ego and self-worth resides, and because their external sources and what is valued may change, it can give 3's a shapeshifter quality depending on who or what they're surrounded by, what they value, what they do. Underneath this layer of shiny baubles is still a 'shame type' and so without this sometimes fragile self-image being upheld they are but a raw, shameful nerve. Because of this, they can lose contact with their own internal compass, needs, desires and their authentic self. They prioritize what gets them those positive hits and bolsters their ego/self-image. They can be totally asleep to this inner incongruence, and be deceiving themselves, especially in lower levels of health.

Numbing/Workaholism: 3’s can use numbing so they don’t get stuck in the emotional swamp and become unproductive. They can power down the “I’m a failure, I’m upset, I’m emotional” aspect and power up the drive to override emotional slop that might get in their way. They might override this with going hard into working around the clock, substances, shopping/spending a lot or doing something flashy to bolster their self-image. 

Competition: 3’s can get caught up in competition, using others as a stepping stone or a way to boost their own image by comparison (“see how much better of a job I’m doing than Ted.”) They might do this to the point where they end up chasing someone else’s dreams and totally shooting themselves in the foot.

ENNEAGRAM TYPE 4 - “DISDAINFUL DEPRESSIVE”

4’s like to see themselves as separate, uniquely flawed, deep, and the special exception. Therefore they cannot see themselves as mundane, relatable, ordinary, adaptable, or even for many 4’s functional. Of course, when going too hard into the personality type’s false belief, it creates a big ol’ shadow. 

4’s avoid feeling mundane, ordinary, relatable, shallow, functional or happy. 4's unconsciously self-sabotage and focus on the negative and what’s frustrating, to reinforce their type's ego because it assures them that they are deep, different, uniquely flawed and unlike anyone else. Therefore their survival continues.

If the 4 catches themselves in the act, or someone else does (gasp), it may increase the dissonance between the Shadow and Unintegrated Self if they don’t understand that it’s just their personality bs. Because the 4 utilizes envy (what is missing) they are unlikely to allow themselves to see where they are functional, relatable, understandable or even happy. They subconsciously craft a self-image that rejects any "positive" information about themselves that comes into conflict with this existing "negative" image.

How this manifests:

Introjection: Introjection is presented as absorbing another person's identity or feelings (like a parent) and transferring it to themselves. However, it's more nuanced and specific than that for 4’s. 4's aren't just taking in any old information, they're unconsciously taking in evidence that they are broken, estranged, alien, fucked up and damaged - and this is great news to them. While the external world may be giving the 4 fuel, their experience has almost nothing to do with the outside world. The outside world is just serving to fuel the 4's internal narrative. The 4 weaves these evidentiary mementos into a story. They identify with specific negative traits that reinforce that they are separate, rare, deeply flawed so as to never quite be understood or capable of being happy and functional.

They do this unconsciously as a way to cope with the pain of feeling broken, unwanted, dysfunctional and different. They weave the negative narratives into their identity and shape it into a way that makes them feel in control of it, to project depth and meaning onto it vs someone or something outside of themselves creating their story and making it shallow. The more they associate into this negative state, the more dysfunctional they can become and the more it supports their type's ego structure. Without these narratives they feel naked and non-existant. Because their self-image is inherently negative, they are “positively” associated with being in a negative, frustrated, unsatisfied state.

Idealization: Idealizing people or situations as a way to generate feelings to pull the 4 away from the mundane reality/experience. This idealization is a frustration pattern designed to keep them in a loop of disappointment and longing because nothing will ever live up to what they hope, something will always be missing and the 4 can never truly actualize or be happy as a result. And if it is everything they’ve ever wanted, the 4 is likely to find something wrong anyway or create a problem where there is none.

As a result, the 4 might self-sabotage opportunities that would actually aid them in being functional, capable, happy, or get them what they claim they want. They may discard things, people, ideas, pursuits if they feel too easy, cheap, relatable, mundane. Or keep churning up issues and provocations that will lead to them being able to say, “see, I never get to have what I want.” Or “I knew no one would understand.”

Splitting: 4’s reject what’s “not me” and often find what’s not to their tastes or “not me” disgusting. Everything that’s not in the frustrated realm that the 4 approves of is superficial, shallow, ugly, vapid, horrible, etc. For the faceless masses, not the 4. Being at odds with reality helps reinforce their self-identity. I’m not like that, therefore I’m deep.

Because 4’s are usually creative or self-identify with the idea of being an artist/writer/creative, their tragically romantic, broken and disdainful views can be expressed through their art. They may overdo it in making it unpalatable or abstract. Or if they become popular they may self-sabotage their own success or self-image by being provocative, turning on their fans/the public, becoming moody, self-destructive or unpredictable. They’ll likely move away from what is expected or desired by their fanbase, even if they secretly desire an audience. Or maybe they’ll over-specify how they present themselves and shroud themselves in mystery in a way that others cannot easily relate to, they can only *bear witness.*

ENNEAGRAM TYPE 5 - “BRUNDLEFLY”

5’s like to see themselves as insightful, competent, self-sufficient, independent and objective. Therefore they cannot see themselves as emotional, human, helpless or dependent on others. Of course, when going too hard into the personality type’s false belief, it creates a big ol’ shadow. 

5’s avoid feeling dependent on others, helpless, depleted, or engulfed in the messy world. 5's unconsciously retreat inwards and withhold energy and information, detach, and compartmentalize to reinforce their type's ego because it assures them that they are competent, objective, smarter than everyone else and above the mortal coil. 

Because the 5 utilizes avarice (hoarding inner resources) they are unlikely to allow themselves to allow themselves to be put in a position where they are “needed” for anything outside of the scope of their specific interest/competency focus, or entangle themselves with hot messes (people or situations). Of all the types, this is maybe the one that is least likely to give a shit if they have a shadow, tbh.

How this manifests:

Isolation: 5’s retreat and protect their inner sanctum from being invaded or picked clean by the outside world. They use isolation to avoid dependence on others or having to be interlaced with their chaotic whims and needs which may disrupt what the 5 would rather be doing with their time (some kind of mind pursuit). They may design their entire lives to protect themselves against intrusion.

Detachment: 5’s use detachment as a means to cope when they feel overwhelmed. They disconnect from and retreat from their own and others’ unstable feelings. In order to feel competent and safe and conserve their mental resources, they can cut all contact or need for the outside world.

They use ‘rejection’ methods of cutting off and compartmentalizing to ensure they’re not swallowed up in the messy ass human bullshit of this humdrum existence. This may show up as minimizing their needs (physical, relational, financial, emotional). They’re the most likely to live in some secret, off-grid tiny home. Not the one with all the gardens and crops and goats, but the one that has the bare minimum to survive where they can focus on their studies or whatever their mental obsession is, far away from other people. 

They can have totally hidden worlds within worlds that others know nothing about. Each world dangerously close to being lopped off at a moment’s notice if the 5 sees no use for it anymore. They dump all of their energy into their main pursuit because it’s where they feel “safe” and valuable, and so the outside world interfering with that feels like an attack on their very existence. By overdoing this one area of “competency” they can actually make themselves unable to actually be independent or functional. So to them they may seem overly competent, but to the outside world they may seem bizarre and dysfunctional.

5’s use compartmentalization of emotions, energy, and relationships. Separating their thoughts from feelings, and putting people into boxes to be dealt with or utilized instead of truly connected to. This can have a dehumanizing effect on the people around them who don’t want to only interact with the 5 when they have the inner resources or only interact with them on narrow and specific terms. By doing this, the 5 effectively shuts out having to deal with whatever they don’t want to but also hacks off pieces of their own heart, spirit, and humanity which is the only true place to create and mine for the insights and independence they seek.

ENNEAGRAM TYPE 6 - “CITIZEN EMO”

6’s like to see themselves as loyal, hardworking, just a regular person, authentic, responsible, fair and connected to the family/community/tribe, etc. Therefore they cannot see themselves as bad, traitorous, pompous or “too good.” Of course, when going too hard into the personality type’s false belief, it creates a big ol’ shadow. 

6’s avoid feeling unsafe, uncertain or abandoned in their attachments and support systems (physical, group, partner). 6's unconsciously seek security/safety (and dangers), truth (and lies) and support systems they can trust and rely on to reinforce their type's ego because it assures them that they are accepted, part of the tribe, safe, secure, supported and prepared. Therefore their survival continues.

If the 6 catches themselves in the act, or someone else does (gasp), it may increase the dissonance between the Shadow and Unintegrated Self if they don’t understand that it’s just their personality bs. Because the 6 utilizes “fear” (and anxiety) they are unlikely to allow themselves to relax, ease up, stop hunting for discrepancies or what could go wrong.

How this manifests:

Projection: 6’s project their worst fears and worst case intentions onto other people. They’re always sniffing out danger in the world and in their connections. Who’s being disloyal? Who’s up to no good? They can engage in investigative, gossipy behaviors, seeking out clues of their worst fears. Sometimes they project their own behaviors, feelings and thoughts onto others and then fear being blamed or accused (which leads to projecting).  

On the flipside, they can project idolization fantasies onto “experts”, simping people who they can put all their trust and outsource their thinking to. They do this to create certainty within themselves. 

Worst Case Scenario: Projections can also show up as “predictions” where the 6 may anticipate the worst and then by overfocusing on this negative outcome, they manifest it into reality. Their worst case scenario becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy. (“See! I knew the basement was going to flood!” Or “See! I knew you’d cheat on me!”) This churning distrust has them always on the hunt, and never feeling safe. 

Splitting: Like other types they can see things in “black and white”, good or bad, you’re with me or against me. 6’s can be tribal and overly-identified to their “side” - whether that’s ideologically, politically, religiously or just in their general friend groups.

Outsourcing anxiety: They can overdose on anxiety in order to reach equilibrium. They project their internal anxieties into the outside world in the hopes that someone else will solve the problem for them. Like constantly bringing people’s attention to the negative or what could go wrong. They cannot rest until someone else validates and matches their concern. They want help to deal with the problem (real or imagined) and for someone else to assuage their fears. 

Redirect overwhelming fears from one source onto another source that they feel is easier to manage (like a loved one, peer, boss).

Rebellion: 6’s can get anti-authoritarian when their trust is broken, they’re disappointed, or they engage in “splitting.” They can be mega social justice warriors and fight for what is “right”, but in doing so they can totally lose perspective and go so hard in fighting for justice that they actually become the bad guy.

6’s can also be hypochondriacs with their anxiety. Excessive worrying, creating symptoms and scenarios out of the ether. They can circle the drain, fixating on problem after potential problem. They can literally bring forth a potential health catastrophe into reality with constant focus on it. This paranoia can manifest in many ways, but sometimes they’re right!

Self-deprecation: They also may use self-deprecation or humor, or presenting as an “underdog” as a way to deflect being targeted or being seen as too big for their britches. They can project this onto other with a ‘tall poppies’ or ‘crabs in the bucket’ mentality.

ENNEAGRAM TYPE 7 - “MAD HATTER HEDONIST”

7’s like to see themselves as interesting, exciting, innovative, individualistic, creative and fun. Therefore they cannot see themselves as boring, normal, part of the grind or a downer. Of course, when going too hard into the personality type’s false belief, it creates a big ol’ shadow. 

7’s avoid feeling trapped, limited, stifled, cut off and bored. 7's unconsciously seek new, interesting people/things/situations/interests to reinforce their type's ego because it assures them that they are fascinating, buoyant, original and compelling creatures. Therefore their survival continues.

Because the 7 utilizes “gluttony” they are unlikely to allow themselves to stagnate for too long, moving onto the next thing and the next thing and the next thing.

How this manifests:

Rationalization: Which means the 7 can subconsciously (or consciously) rationalize away shitty behaviors and dodge responsibility. They are usually averse to their specific flavours of what is “painful” and will reframe reframe reframe themselves up up up and away from whatever that source of “pain” is. Whether it’s the guilt of doing something awful, or the fall-out of saying something flippantly, or the consequences of a thoughtless action. They’re especially prone to rationalizing if making the pain conscious means they’re not able to do, be or have something they desire. 

Distraction: They go into distraction seeking mode via hedonism, intellectual stimulation, adventures, extreme sports, partying, being totally manic and creating for 3 days straight, shopping, etc when they want to avoid discomfort, pain, boredom.

Repression: They use repression to bury negative emotions (in whatever flavour they despise) and push away anything that makes them feel like they’ve been victimized. 7’s can be emotional and melodramatic but it’s in the flavour they find the most interesting. They’re not here to be a boring victim or cry themselves to sleep every night over a loser.

Anticipation/Planning: They can over idealize an outcome to the point where they are more about getting the dopamine hits off anticipation than actually doing the thing or seeing whatever their harebrained scheme is through to completion.

Entitlement: 7’s can be massive brats about getting what they want. As frustration types they’re often focused on what they don’t have and what they want, but because they’re assertive they’re more likely to chase after it, expect it to be given to them, or push people out of the way to get it.

Pleasure-seeking/Hedonism: 7’s reject that which is not pleasurable because there’s nothing in it for them. When 7’s get into this “thank you, next” pattern it can become impossible for them to actualize or stick to something long enough for them to enjoy the fruits of all their initial excitement. The sparkle fades and there’s nothing tasty for the 7 to stick around and lick, so they’re likely to start looking for something else.

Rebellion: Like 6’s, 7’s can also be rebellious, but their reasons for rebelling are likely centered around freedom (literally or freedom of expression), anti-censorship, pro-individuality/individual choice. They can also just rebel for the hell of it if they’re bored, or if there are hot people associated with a cause.

ENNEAGRAM TYPE 8 - “FINAL BOSS”

8’s like to see themselves as powerful, invulnerable, independent, intimidating IDGAF leaders. Therefore they cannot see themselves as weak, under someone else’s heel, being controlled, powerless or soft. Of course, when going too hard into the personality type’s false belief, it creates a big ol’ shadow. 

8’s avoid feeling weak, vulnerable, powerless, small or allowing anything to threaten them. 8's unconsciously deny vulnerabilities and weaknesses to reinforce their type's ego because it assures them that they are indeed powerful and no one can or will fuck with them. Therefore their survival continues.

Because the 8 utilizes “lust” they are unlikely to allow themselves to put themselves in a position where they could be steamrolled, deprived, slowed down or made small or powerless.

How this manifests:

Denial: 8’s use “Denial” by rejecting their own vulnerabilities or weaknesses. This can show up as denying emotions, fears, thoughts that don’t serve the 8’s ego identification of being powerful. They can also completely deny the existence of any perceived weak points that an “enemy” could use against them. If possible, they will lop off anyone or anything that causes them agitation (people, situations) or seems like a threat to their inner or outer sanctuary that they’ve created.

Rejection/Coldness: They can view softness and receptivity as death. If they weaken for a moment, they’ll get screwed over or tricked.

Reaction Formation: 8’s can express the opposite of how they feel. So they can feel really hurt but act like they’re emotionally impervious. You have no effect on the 8. You don’t matter. If you’ve wounded their steel heart, you’ll pay the price. Like the 7 they can deny victimhood, but they might personally feel quite slighted and seek revenge to get the ball back in their court, the power back in their hands, for how the person made them feel.

Aggression/assertiveness: 8’s can take up space and project an air of confidence in order to pre-defend against would-be attacks. Showing up with big bear or chaos demon energy ensures no one will fuck with them and that they’ll get what they want. Therefore they can be domineering, bossy, straight-shooters. My way or the highway.

Control/conquering: 8’s can be hyper controlling and even paranoid, depending on their position and the situation. They can take on the role of puppetmaster or dictator, to ensure things happen according to their plan and they’re not at the whims of someone else or underneath someone else’s thumb.

Justification: 8’s can be impulsive with their anger and feeling absolutely justified. The desired effect can be to crush whatever is pissing them off with their brutality and force.

ENNEAGRAM TYPE 9 - “SOOTHING SQUISH”

9’s like to see themselves as chill, empathetic, caring, supportive and deep. Therefore they cannot see themselves as provocative, disruptive, thoughtless, aggressive or selfish. Of course, when going too hard into the personality type’s false belief, it creates a big ol’ shadow. 

9’s avoid feeling in conflict and stressed out. 9's unconsciously seek to be in harmony and flow with those around them and their environment to reinforce their type's ego because it assures them that they are chill, harmonious and connected.

If the 9 catches themselves in the act, or someone else does (gasp), it may increase the dissonance between the Shadow and Unintegrated Self if they don’t understand that it’s just their personality bs. Because the 9 utilizes “sloth” they are unlikely to allow themselves to just get after it, make demands, make bold moves.

How this manifests:

Narcotization/Dissociation: 9’s use narcotization which means to numb, to ease discomfort. This can manifest in multiple ways, falling asleep at the wheel of life - outsourcing decisions, independence, physical needs, to others. It can also show up as losing yourself in mindless side-tasks instead of just dealing with problems. They can dissociate from problems by numbing their heart and mind to what’s in front of them, or to just hope it resolves itself without any involvement or disruption to the 9’s existence.

9’s repress their anger in favor of keeping peace. They can be really annoyed and not able to verbalize it until it reaches a crisis point for the 9. The other person may be totally shocked when it happens, especially if the 9 kept telling them that everything was fine.

Passive Aggression: 9’s express how they feel indirectly and hoping the person picks up on their subtle cues without them having to generate conflict. This can also just slip out subconsciously through offhand comments, looks, tone or behaviors. And when confronted with it, they’ll likely recede into a mist and say nothing’s wrong.

9’s can also use “positive reframing”, not unlike 7, but theirs is more used as a numbing agent, smoothing out a dire situation or other people’s malintent, rudeness, or shitty behavior so it doesn’t result in conflict or upset.

Outsourcing: 9’s often give their power away, instead of asking for what they want or expressing themselves without being prompted. They can become disappointed when others fail to mind-read or intuit their needs without them having to assert themselves or vocalize it.

Self-Forgetting: Because 9’s can dance around their location in order to keep the peace and not lose connection, they can forget what they want or how they really feel about something.

Merging: Like 3’s, 9’s merge with the people around them, often taking on their interests, aesthetics, values and even mannerisms. However the 9 isn’t doing it to become an ideal and compete for validation, they do it because they over-identify with the idealized other to create harmony and melt into them.

7’s and 9’s can both procrastinate and get lost in multiple fantasies of possibilities, but the difference is that the 7 is likely taking an active, assertive approach and throwing spaghetti at the wall, whereas the 9’s dreams can fade away if they don’t have another person holding them accountable or a job to show up for or something external. 

Ghosting: Instead of just saying “no,” often 9’s will be vague or give a “maybe” or “sure” if they don’t know their location in the moment or don’t want to rock the boat. And then they’ll disappear when followed up with.  

SELF-REFLECTION PROMPTS (FOR JOURNALING)

Did you cringe at any of the behaviors listed? did you recognize any of these in yourself?

write out which ones you recognized. no judgment. it's not "you", it's just behaviors Created out of your personality's false belief. Unpack them. go back to the situation. what were you feeling at the time? what was running through your mind?

What did you need to know in that moment to feel totally safe and make a different choice?

What different choice can you make next time?

What would be the worst thing someone could say about you or make you feel? 

Is there anything in your life that you can see as you trying to avoid this being said about you, control people's perceptions, or avoiding feeling?

Can you accept this behavior in yourself right now, forgive yourself, and choose to be more consciously aware?

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