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hwaightme · 1 year

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Avaritia

THIS IS 18+ ONLY MINORS DNI FOR CAPTAIN'S SAKE (nsfw tags under the cut) (masterlist)

⚫ pairing: ceo/sugar daddy!hongjoong x assistant/afab!reader ⚫ genre: smut... just smut really ⚫ summary: everything has a price, but sugar makes this truth so much sweeter. no matter what he says, hongjoong will buy that new purse for you, will flaunt you in front of his business partners, and will make sure you know you are his. ⚫ wordcount: 8.3k ⚫ warnings/tags: MINORS DNI, tried to edit - lost it - bon appetit, language, teasing, on a flight, a lot of money, wealth, first world, brand name dropping harder than San in the logs, hj is a sweetheart, mc is needy but in denial, full avarice mode lmk if anything else, nsfw tags and playlist rec under the cut ⚫ taglist: @doom-fics @layzfeelit @acciocriativity @justhere4kpop @honey-lemon-goose @byuntrash101 @shakalakaboomboo ⚫ network tags: @k-labels @ateezlovenet @kflixnet ⚫ a/n: Sometimes, I am calm. Other times (read 'all the time) I am getting wrecked by everyone in ATEEZ. Here is what Balmain Joong did to me. Any comments, reblogs much loved; we spiraled into madness (hail sucrose pop, glucose father joong lol)

⚫ nsfw tags: daddy/baby girl dynamic, sugar daddy, reader is a 'doll', soft dom!hj (literally cannot stay mad at mc), overstimulation (seriously what is hj doing to mc...), fingering, mile high club, blowjob, deepthroating, dacryphilia, possessiveness, dirty talk, sex on a desk, unprotected sex (wrap that before you tap that) ⚫ playlist recs: Five Star Hotels by RAYE | Sugar Daddy by Qveen Herby | SAD GIRLZ LUV MONEY Remix by Amaarae | Greed by Shreea Kaul | Mile High by Salina Killa | Do I Move You? by Nina Simone | Money Power Glory by Lana Del Rey

Why was it that when real business was being discussed, the location of choice was always the most extravagant, exotic, luxurious oasis? Everything about the resort screamed unaffordable. 'Exclusive' written in blood on the pristine white sands, only to be washed away by azure blue waves to colour sea foam you could swear was whipped up in a divine patisserie. A perverse flavour inaccessible to the majority but driving the decisions that ruled the world. It was challenging to not become partial to the taboo indulgence when it was handed to you on a silver platter together with a tailor-made career. Anyone would need to acclimatise to what most considered a distant fantasy, but a few flights on a private jet later did wonders in curing the delirium of the average and introducing an insatiable materialism.

Thus, you were not particularly bothered when your boss requested you book another retreat to a private resort in the middle of the ocean - considering the business's cash flow and offshore 'pocket money', this was not too different from your routine trip to the cafe down the street to get his 'coffee' - more sugar than caffeine but this was a secret that you were to keep to the grave; it was written in small print on your contract. It was easy to book when you just needed to send out a few messages to staff and drop a name to any external service people at the right time. Their reaction, stuttering and need for clarification never failed to be amusing; even the most outrageous demands gained appeal once the won, euro, dollars, whatever they wanted from the global wallet, began to stack up. Green bills, green trees - in a twisted way, these boys who liked to play the role of the all-seeing and all mighty were farmers too. And fruits of their labour were always the sweetest.

Sure, you worked hard and had your own path that you could have followed. Even had a degree to prove that you had at least an ounce of dedication. But what would it give you, in fact, what did it give you before your renaissance? Crumbs. Sheer crumbs, student debt and a chronic migraine. But as it turned out, a couple hundred k did wonders when it came to personal health and wellbeing. And on top of that, the myriad of other benefits that your current lifestyle had, had the ability to crush any argument and accusation hurled in your direction, of which you had many. You had figured out soon enough that diamonds were your real best friend, while those who you had considered your ride or die evaporated as soon as they saw you wearing designer. And that had been when the best you could ask for was old collections, and widely available products. You were not lonely. You had too many hats to wear, and a very demanding man, by the name of Kim Hongjoong, to entertain. And one who currently had his eyebrows furrowed, a couple of unruly strands of hair perking up out of his otherwise slick business ‘do, glasses barely holding onto the tip of his beautifully sculpted nose, and was leafing through the papers he had asked you to prepare for the duration of the flight.

For the CEO of a global company, and the heir to an even larger network, he sure as hell was incredibly young. You did not envy his turmoil and exposure to stress one bit, almost feeling sorry and in part guilty, since percentages of his spendings were technically lost on you. There had even been instances when you found yourself sat in a dark room, laptop screen aglow and on a blank page, with you wondering how one crafted a resignation paper. But once you and Hongjoong could have even a couple of moments alone, when he would ravish you, make and call you his and reveal to you all the things he had planned that could not be reflected on his calendar, that document would be promptly deleted and recycle bin emptied. Your ‘relationship’ had been this way since the one meeting, in his main office, on a bright and early morning.

He had called you up into his office and simply told you that he had another ‘job opportunity’ for you. At that point you had been desperate, with financial problems endlessly piling up, from debt to your family’s hospital fees to bailing your estranged brother out of prison. And to make things unethical – Hongjoong had known this. He had done his research – more specifically, he had asked some colleagues in his company, ones who you would never suspect, to snoop around and find out more about you. And as it turned out, you were the perfect candidate for ‘being treated right’ by him, while bearing the title and carrying out the formal façade of secretary and personal assistant duties. In his practice, as well as his father’s and partners’, this was probably the most stable relationship they would ever get in life, so might as well be picky.

Initially, you had simply become a receiver of gifts. Pretending like this was Hongjoong’s love language, you were touched and did not think much of it. Maybe through these purchases he was moving money in ways it should not be moved, but you could not care less – not your problem, not your area of expertise, you had the outcome, and the outcome was something like a crocodile leather bag or a dress fresh off the runway. Hongjoong had insisted on picking every single item out for you, letting his controlling executive side win over. He had explained that you had to look like ‘the prettiest doll in the world’ for him, and for that he needed to check for quality. After a couple of months, however, such sugary sweet presents had been reserved for special occasions, and for the rest, money was wired directly to a new, account, a platinum card he had opened for you and given you. To just step into the consultation room with his portfolio manager and private banking consultant had felt like you were cheating existence. You had been a lowly assistant to an assistant before. And now, decked out in Dior, were sat beside one of the most influential men in the modern era of this industry, letting him hand you eye-watering sums as if it was a couple of coins for a pack of gum.

Now, well, now you were conflicted. As months had turned into a year and were now approaching the two-year mark if you could remember correctly, your ‘relationship’ had started to feel more and more like a real one. Hongjoong had caught himself divulging details of experiences that he had never spoken about with anyone before. And nowadays, when you had sex, it felt less like a mindless fuck and more like making love, with the man expressing more than he ever could with every hot touch, press of his lips to yours, even his lustful intensity had gained a new colour. You could feel that he was confused, but would not dare let go of you – you knew that he put your name down on some very important documents, after all. As such, it was a rare but unbelievable pleasure to push Hongjoong’s buttons and get him all riled up for you, just so he could expel that pressure and that tension from a busy work day out on you. You were that caring of a personal assistant. And wanted him to keep on talking. Keep on telling you his deepest darkest secrets. You wanted to be a part of him, the hedonistic side, the one that seized the day and knew how to enjoy the earthly realm without counting and fighting.

For the flight to the resort and extended series of meetings with key business partners, you had chosen to wear an outfit that you knew Hongjoong was unravelled by. It was a black and white Prada poplin mini dress that did wonders to accentuate your curves and edges, and was paired with some classic, black leather, So Kate Louboutin heels and gold accessories to match the dainty little buttons on the dress. Really, this was dress number two since the last one had been quite literally torn off you by none other than your boss, but he did not want to ruin the night and as such, had promised to contact the house of fashion itself to get an exact replica of the limited edition garment. And this man kept his promises. But right now, even though you were sat in the private office in his jet, with the bodyguards safely outside, lounging and doing whatever bodyguards did to occupy themselves, he was not paying attention to you at all. Only winding himself up more with those compiled quarterly reports that you were now regretting having finalised them and bringing them at all. What was the worst that you would have gotten had you not done the task? A spanking? Oh, how scary… you have had it rougher on a casual and uneventful day. Now you needed to get creative to get his attention, and being needy would not do. So very slowly, gazing out of the window at the clouds your were drifting past, you crossed your legs, revealing the legendary red bottoms of the heels you were wearing, and reached for the notebook and pen that were just peeking out of your handbag. Unbeknownst to you, you already had his attention with your abrupt change of pattern. Normally you would be on your phone, or typing away on your laptop, even remaining idle would be more characteristic, so Hongjoong’s interest was piqued by the little planner that contained all your thoughts and actions. He slouched back in his seat, and raised he papers a little higher, so that he could steal glances at you more discreetly.

You were paying no mind to what your boss was up to, preoccupied by the cream pages and the visualisation of the figure in front of you, but in your mind. Sometimes, when work was slow, you had taken to doodling random people around the office, as well as sketching out a variety of landscapes that took your fancy. Though the main subject was always Hongjoong. You had gotten quite good at picturing his facial features and depicting them even in a few lines, catching his micro expressions and shift in body language. There were also a couple of drawings you had done with him as a live model, though he was asleep and in the nude, so no one was ever going to know about that – you had stashed them away in a safe hidden behind the drawers of your desk. It only made sense that he was in most of your drawings: after all, he was the man who had bestowed upon you such unimaginable riches and a quality of life so drastically improved, that you had no choice but to worship him. He had made you who you were now. A shining diamond.

And this shining diamond was a little too bright for him to keep on focusing on the profit and loss analysis. After about ten minutes of frustrating silence, he dropped the papers onto the table in front of him and leaned to put his elbows on its edge. You had still not raised your eyes at him – something that you normally did nearly on instinct since you were so in tune with his gestures, which made Hongjoong inhale aggressively. His previously neutral expression had turned into a scowl as he raised an eyebrow and gave you a onceover. His precious doll was up to something.

“What are you doing?” though the question was simple, his voice was dangerously low. But you could not be threatened by a good time. You kept your eyes trained on the page as your hand moved methodically to hatching the shadows of his, as of not too long ago, brilliant blond locks, ones you adored to run your hands through whenever you had the chance. Which was a rare occurrence outside of the ‘bedroom’, but still.

“Just noting some things down, Mister Kim.” Though he had insisted that you call him Hongjoong when you two were alone, it had been a challenging transition to get used to. But at least it gave you ample opportunity for… discouraging him further. He liked for everything to run like a well-oiled machine, with his eyes reading a business strategy in anything and anyone. You had no doubt that that was how he was scrutinising you now. Equal parts assessing the attitude and doting on you.

He was a sweetheart treating his favourite toy. Talking competitive analysis and takeovers in the morning, and clinking glasses with you at an exclusive Michelin star restaurant in the evening. And to think that you were the only one, aside from his family, who got to see more than one side of him was an intriguing notion. Actually, scratch that. Certain things you were sure to be the only one taking care of. Take his nasty habit of overworking, which you had called out even if it was just you feeling bored: all work and no play made Hongjoong a dull boy, and thus, less likely to compensate for your presently aimless sitting around.

“By colouring the entire page? Not good to lie to me, you know that.” Of course. When it came to matters of business, for example, this man had ears everywhere, had infiltrated every other competitor and had become a spider in the corporate world. He would probably find out someone was cheating on their spouse sooner than the spouse themselves. When it came to you, however, he did not have your intricate neural network mapped out just yet. He could only fluff up his feathers and put on airs.

“It is only ink, Mister Kim. And surely the ink to paper ratio is not more than the balance sheet on page twenty seven.” You purposefully moved away from his interrogation, subliminally reprimanding him from stopping his concentration. The ghost of a smirk was gracing your lips, hidden by hair that had fallen to perfectly frame your delicate facial features. Hongjoong still had not corrected you on using his ‘work title’.

“I should ask you to start drawing the spreadsheets out by hand then.”

“Maybe next time, as a special treat. In the meantime, we have what we have and must settle for it.” A lot more standoffish than usual, you were brushing your boss off as you continued the sketch. He could not exactly reprimand you, however. You were right in the fact that his suggestion was nothing more than white noise.

“Settle for less, Y/N?” the question rang loudly in your ears and translated itself to a reminder to know your place fairly quickly. You could imagine Hongjoong’s raised eyebrow and playful grin. In addition to him hinting at your arrangements, he switched to calling out your first name. Promising.

There was a customary mention of money and class even when it was not the main topic of conversation. Really, it was what had brought you two together, or rather the stark difference between what you and him had, respectively. Hongjoong enjoyed having financial control over you and ended up dangling it above your head in the form of his not so subtle first-world conduct. You preferred to imagine that it was him wrapping you up in the softest, silkiest Chanel ribbon, like the one you had seen in adverts and on the packaging that, alone, could have probably provided you with enough food to last a week in your life before.

It was not that Hongjoong did not try to ‘stay humble’. Based on your observations, out of all his financial peers, company clients and members of the executive board, he was probably the least likely to boast about the figures that his numerous bank accounts contained. It was possible that when the strings of digits began to look more like a phone number, one grew more tranquil. Money spoke louder than words. But you knew how to make Hongjoong get vocal. Or so you thought.

“More is never enough.”

“Having more takes a lot of work and being on your best behaviour, Y/N.” he may not know all of your thoughts and reasoning but knew that you got extra charming when you became needy. Trying so hard to get his attention that you would invest all your efforts into it. It was only fair after how much he had invested in you.

The Tiffany & Co necklace on your neck that he traced with his gaze was nothing more than a collar, a leash tethering you to him. An Elsa Peretti piece, a golden snake which had cost Hongjoong just under thirty million Korean won, was perhaps the best way to symbolise the chokehold you were beginning to have on him. You were there in business, there in pleasure, and he was contemplating preventing you from taking holidays unless they somehow involved him. It would be easy – just block all of your cards and you would come crawling. He was greedy for your reactions. The way your lip would curl when he would put somebody back in their place during a conference or a meeting. How you enjoyed it when he praised you for completing the challenging, soul-draining tasks that never ceased to pile up – he had never failed to continue scrutinising you through the glass walls of his office as you excitedly returned to your desk, a soft smile always on your face. How you were completely at his mercy when he wanted to give you an extra special present. He loved how the jewellery he had gifted you or sponsored for you to buy rocked back and forth as he took his time to take you apart. Piece by piece. His priceless game.

Hongjoong smoothed his lapels and adjusted his cotton jacket that he had bought in the colour warm khaki, tightening the knot of the wrap belt. Smugly, he took note of how your pretty, made up lips parted. What were you imagining he was doing now? He was not going to care, at least not right away. He demonstratively picked up the reports again, flipping through the bounded pages on autopilot as, what he could only decipher to be a disappointed gasp, reached his ears. It was a relief that the paper hid his growing smirk. Mister Kim was work-mode Hongjoong, after all. What did you expect?

Ignored and rejected, so be it. You knew this interaction well enough to be able to count, down to the minute, when Hongjoong would crack, or you would crack and still come sauntering over. He liked to be needed – the main reason why he had agreed to become the heir to the corporation in the first place, more than you liked to be needy. But sometimes, you were a little too impatient for your own liking – probably a side effect of having been transferred to a silver spoon lifestyle after experiencing hardship after hardship. As such, the dynamic between you and Hongjoong was a constant battle. You could almost taste his pride as he inspected the figures you had compiled for him, a lazy hand moving to adjust the collar of his white turtleneck. Through fluttering eyelashes, you feasted on the dangerously handsome man, determining that he really did look astonishingly captivating in Balmain.

It was frustrating, this ongoing game that you two played and would not quit despite the effect that it very obviously had on all parties involved, but much like with the drugs that made the occasional special appearance in the closed VIP-only events, it was too addictive. Even now, you knew that you should not pay attention to Hongjoong, but your eyes were not obeying you in the slightest. Over the time you had come to intimately know this man, if there was one thing you knew for certain, it was that he had an aura. An enigmatic charm, a magnetism that was so subtle to anyone who you now had the ability and first world clarity of deeming 'average' was unlikely to detect. However, before you knew it, upon locking eyes with Hongjoong, listening to his dulcet tone that would turn to orchestrate the music in your mind, you began to fall hard and fast into the abyss that was his power and control, trapped and even if you wanted out, forgetting the words. Once you fell in, the only words that mattered were the ones that he deemed to be so, and they were so heavily contextual and dependent on his mood that, usually, you did not dare oppose it.

It was fascinating to you how time seemed to pass differently when there was a price associated with it. Be it Hongjoong's net worth or what he was wiring into your accounts, it did not matter. What mattered was the bills that bound you together like the lace of your lingerie, one which was growing tighter around your body by the second as you kept on openly devouring Hongjoong with each shameless gaze, the thoughts cropping up because of the ghost of a smirk that he was wearing only fanning the flame. He was illegal. In all senses. No man should have the right to have such an influence over you as he did, and yet here you were. Working the role of his personal toy, so dedicated that you were on the verge of begging for him to play with you. You needed him. As much as you hated to admit it, since you still did want to retain at least a tiny portion of independence, this man had given you more than what you could ever wish for. Riches, connections, diamonds, sex. And you could not get enough, happily driven to madness by the immense pleasure of being a capricious diva with infantile demands for all the world's sweetness. Or, as your brother had put it, perhaps out of a sick gratitude to you for helping him getting at least a part of his life back on track, before you blocked him for good, you were getting off on being a pampered, prissy sugar baby. Though you saw no issue with simply doing what you were good at, and you still completed your regular duties as a personal assistant. It was just that your 'personal' was a little different from the commonly accepted corporate average. And the business that you carried out in the after hours was not just classified – when you had been faced with the decision of whether to agree to enter such a relationship with Hongjoong or not, you had naively placed your life at stake. That was the level at which you had to operate. But the thrill that it gave you, more than justified it.

Your internal clock was ticking away like a time bomb as you grew more and more frustrated, while Hongjoong, in a manner not too far from that of a cat’s, gave a soft yawn and made himself more comfortable in his chair, spreading his legs further apart under his desk and leaning back to continue his reading. Deciding that he had enough of having to repeatedly push his glasses up, he decisively took them off, and slowly folded them together, holding one of the temple tips very lightly with his lips. In a graceful motion, Hongjoong set them down to his right, beside a couple of pens. You recalled speaking with the designer over the phone, ordering for them to be customised and getting shipped over from the US in record time, and while you were not exactly sure as to why they were so important, the key stakeholders in the company had raved about them on multiple occasions, much to your boss’s delight.

You could feel that he was well aware of your present sensations, and purposefully was not acting on them, just to see you squirm. This was only making you more fixated on getting his attention, which you tried to do by letting out another soft sigh, quickly realising that if you were to get anything out of him, you had to be more rash, and act on instinct. In other words, act out of line. Taking the moment he dived back into the report as an opportunity, you rose from the couch, and slipped out of your high heels while keeping your eyes trained on your boss. A barely noticeable twitch of the eyebrow and you were struggling to fight off a smirk, feeling every bit seductive even though it was most probably a vision of your own design. But a little confidence did not hurt.

This time, you did not make a sound as you slowly moved towards Hongjoong’s desk in a straight line, using your strength to keep your adrenaline-ruined breathing as level as physically possible, and your steps measured out as the plane rumbled beneath you. Head and body in the clouds. All because of the heavenly ruin who was paying no mind to how you rested the tips of your fingers on the edge of the desk, before lowering yourself onto your knees and dropping into a languid crawl. As you inched past his lacquered black boots, and soon found yourself right between his legs, you could see Hongjoong stiffen, but resist the urge of responding to your bold movements. This only played to your advantage, as you let your hands rest on his denim-clad thighs before snaking up to tug on his coat’s belt, loosening it until the material gave way and exposed the waistline of his jeans.

Even as you, with practiced, methodical motions, undid his jeans, he did not spare you as much as a pat on the top of your head, like he usually did when you were being his ‘good girl’. The only sign he gave of his awareness of you was the obviously hardening member that your hands purposefully grazed as you attempted to pull the denim a little further down to give you better access. When the jeans, or rather, their wearer, did not budge to allow you to take them off, you growled in annoyance and gave up trying to be gentle, instead wanting nothing more but attention, not from Mister Kim, not from your boss, but from Hongjoong. From Joongie. From your one and only daddy.

Said man was resisting every urge to yank you from under the desk and to punish you for being such a vixen, but it was clear to him that his disregard of your efforts might just be more painful – a realisation that did little to subdue his arousal. It made him acutely aware of your nimble hand finding the cut in his Armani briefs, and pulling out his erection, giving it a few pumps at the base with your fingers. The sudden caress had made him buck his hips forward, encouraging you to continue admiring his length and running your fingers up and down, not a single bit escaping your touch. He gripped the papers in his hands until they began to get crumpled at the edges, and eventually dropped them to lean back and get a view of the scene unfolding at his feet. All just to catch you as you licked your lips, revealing a thick coating of spit, moved towards his dick, and while keeping it steady with one hand, ran your wet tongue from the base to the very tip, parting with a lewd twirl over the head. Hongjoong bit back a hiss as he locked eyes with yours, half-lidded – you knew all his sensitivities, his pressure points and guilty pleasures, and that was infinitely dangerous for a man like him to share, it only made you more attractive. You had memorised him as if he was your assignment. Your most important test and duty. Never leaving your mind and driving you to insanity as you drifted from wave to wave of uncontrollable desire for him, and him alone. You were his. And you looked so pretty, a queen all made up and dressed in gorgeous rare pieces, kneeling before him and taking in his member between your soft lips. Deeper. Deeper, until he could feel your hot inner cheeks, the back of your tongue and how a rumble emanated from you as you hummed in satisfaction, the vibration forcing Hongjoong to tilt his head back and sigh.

You were greedy for Hongjoong, moving yourself at a slow pace to take in as much of him as you could, hands finding themselves clinging onto the legs of his jeans for support, and to allow you to try your best and continue devour him without his guidance. As you moved away for a couple of seconds to catch your breath, a salacious pop announcing the temporary loss of contact, you noticed a string of what you could only guess to be your saliva, mixed with his pre-cum hanging between his member and your progressively more swollen lips. Once again, you took the throbbing member in your hand and were about to resume its worship, when a strong grip of your hair, nails momentarily sinking into your scalp, alerted you and made your gaze shoot upwards. The sight made you cower, though the thrilling trepidation fuelled your yearning for the glowering man.

There was a demonic quality in how he stared down at you, every bit of the expression demeaning you and demanding your ruin. You knew you had overstepped by disobeying him and taking intimate matters into your own hands, but who could blame you when he was so breath-taking when wearing his favourite brand? When you lowered your eyes he tugged on your locks, sneering.

“Baby girl could not even wait until we landed, huh?” his dulcet tone dropped into a rough drawl as he could feel your breaths washing over the tip of his sensitive dick that was begging for you to finish what you had started.

“I couldn’t.” you purred, batting your eyelashes.

“And so, you resort to being naughty? Do you think that is the right thing to do, especially when I say that I am working, hm?” he was hooking the answers out of you, one of his eyebrows twitching in surprise as you did not respond immediately. He tightened his hold and made your head fall further back so that you were completely face to face, his member pressing against your cheek.

“It isn’t, daddy, but I couldn’t help myself. You just looked so pretty that I could not resist.”

“And I think you are being incredibly selfish, Y/N. Spinning these tales just so you can satisfy yourself.”

“No daddy, I want to make you feel good!” you insisted, a whine escaping you as you could feel your core beginning to grow warmer with the progressing conversation. Pressing your thighs tightly together, you relished at the friction, and bit your lower lip.

“Is that so?” he mused out loud, waiting for your to attempt to utter even a single word more.

“Yes Da-mmfph!” taking the chance, he pushed you right in, his member hitting the back of your throat, the impact making tears spring up. As you struggled against him, he held you in place and watched as you tried to adjust to him. Just as unexpectedly, he yanked you back, leaving your lips to kiss his tip, only to drag you down once more and thrust his hips once, twice against you until he could see the wetness in your eyes building until it was about to spill over.

“You said you wanted to make daddy feel good, yes?” he asked, lust clouding his brain as you mumbled utter nonsense, mouth pacified by the hard erection, “then do exactly as I say, baby girl.”

This was exactly what you missed. Hongjoong coaxing every unholy state out of you, sin setting you ablaze as you began to fail in registering the nuances of this demeanour, tears that were on the verge of rolling down your cheeks blurring your vision. This was how you pinched yourself for grounding, to assure that the lifestyle you had, the gifts which you had been bestowed with were all real and all yours. You did not search for forgiveness when the forbidden fruit was so damn sweet. So, you let yourself be used like an expensive escort by him, comforted by the thought that even though he could definitely afford having anyone else, he had selected you. And let you stick by him for almost two years. A true sweetheart who knew how to treat his girl right. You moaned into the pressure as the low grunts you elicited from Hongjoong let to the climbing of heat in your core. With the abuse of your throat becoming a rhythmic orchestration, you grew brave enough to improvise, and hollowed out your cheeks.

"Ah... fuck, baby girl..." the airy proclamation escaped him as your teeth just barely grazed his member, and he could feel his high building at an accelerated pace. He resisted your bobbing to catch a few seconds' break by pressing you to his hips, barely giving you a chance to breathe. But he knew you would take it. You always did.

Hongjoong's ragged breathing was sending you into overdrive, and you shut your eyes to allow yourself to focus on the lewd music. Barely audible over the jet engines, the loss of control was his primary expression of gratitude. The illusion that he was not, in certain senses, under your heel rapidly evaporated when the adrenaline shot him through the heart, and his frontal lobe shut down to give up the reins to carnal pleasure. Once the barriers disappeared, his one desire and need were clear. You. The one thing in his life that he would never be able to truly own, and as you unwounded him, he comprehended with an unprecedented lucidity. That was why, as you sensed his hold on you loosen and his orgasm inching closer than ever, and were about to give him the sweet release, Hongjoong snapped back to consciousness and nearly ripped you away from himself, your head barely missing the drawers under the desk.

With flushed cheeks and an adorable, innocent pout, you looked up at him, dribble accumulated at the corners of your mouth. He fell for this face every time. Your glistening eyes studying him as you appeared disappointed that you could not get daddy to cum, afraid that you made him mad. That you did something wrong. Oh, how far from the truth this was. Even though you had acted selfishly, and approached him on your own accord, nothing about you could be anything less than right. Right just for him. It was as if the heavens themselves had moulded you to fit him like a glove. Body and soul. And he will be a fool if he did not indulge in that every opportunity he had.

Taking both your hands in his, Hongjoong helped you up from under his desk, careful to not damage your dress - not that he cared for the price, but it was not particularly enjoyable contemplating the conversation you might have to have with dry cleaning. Or with the designers. Again. It was troublesome striking deals with strangers to keep their mouths shut. He rolled back on his chair, taking in your trembling form. Holding your legs together you were fighting your ache for stimulation, knowing full well that your panties were already ruined with your slick and were only serving as a fabric made for rubbing your sensitive clit. Every breath, every sigh from Hongjoong as he took off his jacket and carefully hanged it on the back of his chair, then fully undid his jeans and pushed down his underwear, was a reason for you to start begging. Couldn't he see how anxious for touch his little toy was? Evidently not, for Hongjoong took his sweet time with removing your dress, every button like a special prize that he wanted to cherish, while you were growing hazy as he peppered kiss after kiss with every new inch of exposed skin, crouching down to let the sensation build lower, feeding the knot in your stomach. His pecks stopped just about when he reached your navel and with a lazy smile on his face, he stood up to gaze into your soul with an unbelievable intensity. Hands running up your body, Hongjoong slid the magnificent article off you, hastily draping it over one of the chair's arm rests and not once glancing away from his favourite sight, a sultry oasis, within reach, and so beautifully hungry for him. He stopped your arms from resting on his sweater, muttering that you would mar it with your lusty filth, and rushed to take it off and throw it behind him. Then, there was no barrier for him anymore, and in one motion, his pelvis was against yours, member resting against your black lace-clad heat, and hands kneading your ass, moving closer and closer until they began to toy with the g-string the action turning to torture as he purposefully made the material dig into your pussy, enjoying how you threw your head back and bit back a groan.

"Please daddy, I need you..." you whispered as he increased the friction and proceeded to move his dick in and out between your full, closed thighs, teasing your erect nub until you writhed to seek even more proximity. This, however, earned you a sharp smack on your ass, the lack of anticipation making it sting. Hongjoong did not give you time to recover as he let the pins and needles work their magic and elevate your reception of his steady thrusts. You tried to grab onto him, the table, anything, but as soon as your fingers touched Hongjoong's chest, another hit echoed in your ears, eliciting a frustrated moan.

"You want to... make... daddy really happy and cum... right?" He panted, his nails digging into your flesh so violently that you could not help but wonder if Hongjoong was going to draw blood, but that brief musing only elevated your pleasure. “Then, you are going to be my pretty little fuck doll… understood?” there was only one right answer to the question, and you were not about to get on Hongjoong’s bad side by being a brat. You were too fazed to put up a fight, and merely mumbled a soundless:

“Yes… daddy…”

Hongjoong leaned closer to you, until his forehead was almost touching yours, and moved to wipe some of the lipstick and remnants of his precum from your lips with his thumb, while his other hand hooked the waistband of your panties, slowly pulling them down to reveal your wet core. You wriggled to let them fall and kicked them away with an impatient foot, earning a chuckle.

“So eager, baby girl… I almost want to forgive you for not listening to me. I just said you are to be a doll,” he peered into your eyes, his breath hot on your mouth as he ran his fingers between your folds, covering them in your slick. It was adorable how you tried your best to keep up appearances even now, even when you had signed yourself away to be what effectively was his servant. You trembled as the cool metal of the ring on his index finger hit your clit, and exhaled shallowly as he played with you, “and dolls don’t move, do they? Can you do that?”

As he asked, his fingers curled into your pussy, while a thumb traced rhythmic circles over the nub, the sensation electric, building your high. The lasciviousness flashing in your pupils as your eyes rolled back was a cry to Hongjoong’s darkness. Hands suspended in mid-air, you did not dare act out nor attempt to navigate the intimate act, submitting to your boss, your daddy. Letting him take care of you. As he sped up, watching your face contort as you battled the approaching climax, Hongjoong found you endearing, the corners of his mouth twitching as a soft, radiant smile surfaced. He could never stay cruel with you for too long. He was giving you more than you could ask for, and yet, he still wanted to give you more. Everything would not be enough.

“Oh, my baby girl, are you close?” he inquired, cooing as your breathing quickened in response to his accelerated pumps into your wetness, wild from the addictive sound it produced. “Fine, you can hold onto me, Y/N, daddy will take care of you,” you did not need to be told twice, falling into him as your orgasm was imminent, “doing so well for me, baby girl…” he whispered into your ear, kissing the lobe and pulling you into an embrace as he felt your high wash over you, your sex pulsing around him and muscles contracting uncontrollably. Brushing your hair back, petting it a couple of times before settling on having a hand rest between your shoulder blades, he praised you. But did not stop. Greed went both ways.

Your prior filters completely broken, you moaned and whined as you kept on unravelling, Hongjoong’s fingers abusing your overstimulated cunt. With his toned body, and your ass pressed against the edge of the desk serving as your only support, you draped your arms over his shoulders and wrapped yourself around his neck, rationality leaving with every tremor. As you could feel another scalding fire building in your abdomen, just before the release Hongjoong removed his hand and instead took to gliding his dick against your pussy lips. With the sensation being too much, you yelped and sank into an orgasm, sweet nectar dripping onto, and coating his cock.

“Such a good girl for me, well done… Come on my dick baby girl.”

You were not sure when, due to the fog that enveloped your fucked out mind, but Hongjoong had made you lie on your back on his wooden desk, surrounded by the financial reports he could not be bothered to clear. He wanted you now, and that meant no pauses. Without as much as a warning, the blonde gave you one final teasing flick with his tip before bottoming out, the fullness making you gasp. Your walls were still clenching around him from your climax, which made Hongjoong growl as he grabbed your hips and pulled you closer to him, spreading your legs further apart.

“So perfect for me, Y/N… only mine…”

He mercilessly pounded into you, chasing his own high while you were seeing stars. When you were like this, under him, hair cascading onto and off the mahogany, knuckles turning white as your grasped onto the desk as he thrusted, you were the closest thing to heaven that he could believe in. In a world that was drenched in materialistic attraction, sabotage in the name of another stack, and human lives turning into corporate statistics to improve key performance indicators, this was an ethereal madness that unlocked a primal bliss, untainted by present crises. The sweetest distraction, you took him so well that he liked to pretend that you had been made just for this. Just to become his possession. His gorgeous doll.

With you, Hongjoong had begun to see purpose in his riches, being able to play dress up with you, making the office a private cat walk as you strutted in the latest collections and custom made pieces. Gucci, Versace, Prada… it did not matter to him so long as you were wearing it with the intentions of impressing him, seducing him, and only him. He was fully aware that, technically, you could be dating someone else alongside your so-called partnership with Hongjoong. As a sugar baby you could even have another ‘sponsor’ out there somewhere. Another person to make you cum, to provide you with a sensual paradise. But the notion sent him into an inexplicable rage as soon as he entertained it, and as such, he preferred to isolate visions of you from the rest of the world. In turn, this manifested itself into his real life attempts to do the same. Longer hours spent after work, an unspoken rule that the assistant should not leave until the boss does. Michelin star restaurants and exclusive rooftop bars to lure you into being in his company. And of course, sex. Or making love. However, one wished to call it when the lines began to get blurry. But Hongjoong could not care less. You made him comfortable. You were his, you had to be, otherwise what did the two years mean?

Skin against skin, breath joining breath, sight clouding, going dark. Hongjoong rolled his hips, and lowered himself to a stance where he was hovering directly above you, his piercing gaze not once leaving you. Getting drunk off every moan and gasp that he was the cause of, he relished in the feeling of your pussy taking him so well, the orgasm that he had not allowed you to ride out still making your walls clench repeatedly around his dick, pleading for his intimate, salacious demise. His thrusts got deeper as he slowed the pace, progressively losing his senses to the speeding high.

“Mm… baby girl you are… fucking priceless…” he uttered, words broken apart by each time he bottomed out in you, his balls pressing against your wetness as you could only let out a series of mewls in response, thoughts unintelligible as the repeated hits to your g-spot brought you closer and closer to total destruction.

“Daddy… please, I’m-”

“Going to cum?” he finished your sentence as your try at speaking was interrupted by a wave of pleasure, mixing with the tension from before and making the tears spring up once again. You were a wreck, impaled by Hongjoong’s member as he returned to standing up in front of the desk, thrusts rapid, sharp and finally making a droplet roll down from the corner of your eye. You yelped:

“Hongjoong… ah this is…”

“Is it too much baby girl?” he asked, without any intention to stop as he could sense himself faltering at keeping up the act for any longer. His own climax was within reach, and he was not one to deny himself any pleasures.

“No, daddy, feels…. So ah… yes…” you mumbled, at least you thought you did, but could not confirm for certain.

“Pretty girl crying for me… so cute.” Praises spilled out of him as he groaned into the tightness, and, unsteady, removed himself from your cunt, letting out a low moan as rivulets of cum shoot out from his cock and onto your stomach.

The viscous white fluid decorating you was more than what he could ever hope for. The final marking that you were his to use, you were there to serve him, and he would never get enough. A light shake in his thighs forced him to seek balance in having a hand on either side of you, while his pulsing dick rubbed against your inner thigh.

“So pretty, Y/N. Just for me.” He stated, more to himself, and lowered himself further to give you a soft peck on the lips, which quickly deepened as you responded with an elated sigh. In these moments, you wondered if it was money that you were doing this for.

As he moved away, and with practiced motions began to clean you up with some tissues which you had in your bag, you regained full ability of inhale… count… exhale, and in the clarity, drifted to a post-coital contemplation. Hongjoong knew how to make you do what he wanted you to do. But did he know you? Could he confidently paint the portrait of your desires beyond financial and sexual gain? A man made of sugar, with an alluring physique and a kindness which he showed only to you, but should he be your only one? This thought had been plaguing you ever since last month. An unexpected, shattering appearance of a business card, that was now hidden behind a card you rarely used in your wallet, with gold embossed lettering and an otherwise minimalist design. Tasteful, exclusive, expensive. When you checked the names of those attending the meet on the island, the object had grown considerably heavier, weighing onto your consciousness. Discreetly given to you amidst a kiss of the hand and the reception of a smouldering gaze, it served a similar purpose to a number at an auction. The person whose name the card bore had announced himself as a bidder for your attention and services, a bidder astronomically higher than Kim Hongjoong, at that. It was tempting. Very tempting. And you knew that the conversation would occur at some point during your stay, seeing as even in the business setting, the man would undoubtedly be sat across from you, and would stare you down, right to the avarice festering in your heart wrapped up in designer. But you were caught in a dilemma.

Your eyes travelled back to the graceful form tending to you, forgetting about himself, at least until his baby girl was well cared for. A sweet angel, his face finally rid of tenseness and agitation as his entire focus was on your body, on you. The one who, unknowingly to himself, had shown you unprecedented vulnerability and, endearingly, trusted you much more than he ever should have. A man who walked on people and money, yet wanted a woman who could play with his heart.

It was not that simple anymore, was it? After so many doses, could you give this up? Give up and betray Hongjoong in search for a stronger hit?

What was it that you were truly greedy for?

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sstardustt3 · 28 days

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ben drowned general hcs ☆

@pink_halley on insta for ben drowned art

II tags II Ben being a little shit II Ben being a troll II Ben and Nina being gossip whores II mentions of sally, Nina, Jeff, ej, Spamton from deltarune, ena from ena by Joel j II no nsfw ||

Ben because he’s is a virus has no actual age and can alter his appearance as he wishes

He has the worst mood swings especially if the electricity is sucky which makes him sick

He is the most annoying chronically online mf you will ever meet and he knows what he’s doing too but rarely is he being annoying to other pastas and it’s mostly just people on twitter

He has gotten into multiple arguments and doxing wars with barbs and k-pop stans over him trolling them

He rarely loses arguments but if he does or they just really piss him off he’ll basically just haunt them and scare them to the point they never log onto twitter again and he thinks it’s the funniest shit ever

Despite him having a dirty and crude sense of humour he thinks romance and anything to do with that is gross

He has gotten into multiple fights with toby on online video games and twitter

He is the definition of an angsty 13 year old he hates literally everyone with a few exceptions

He’s is an extremely messy person, a shit starter if you will. Which is why he likes nina, he gets to know drama and mess and he uses it to his advantage

He has fun annoying people to the point they get enough to try and kill him which is why he has a love hate relationship with ej because he has grown to have enough emotional self control not to hurt ben,

On one hand ben’s offended by this, on the other hand it excites him and motivates him to be his most obnoxious teenage boy self,

that being said he has gotten close to ej wanting to actually hurt him

Him and jeff bully kids on roblox. I have no further explanation on that

Ben and sally have a sibling relationship

“Thats a child.”

“And thats an ugly pimply bitch.”

Thats it thats all i have to say about that one i didn’t know how to fit that in there but i did and that’s all that matters

Ben hates heat because it overstimulates his senses and causes him to glitch out and he physically can not stand being without some sort of fan or ac

Adding onto the thing about him glitching it’s kinda like ena (pls watch ena if you haven’t it’s a work of art) with her mood swings and glitching

Also if he’s like somewhere were it’s extremely hot he’ll just like completely shut off and will have to reboot

He hates cats and dogs mostly because they tend to chew on his wires and cause him to short circuit which makes his process of infecting people slower

he reminds me of spamton from deltarune and because of this in my mind he talks like spamton

#creepypasta #headcanon #my hcs #ben drowned #ben creepypasta #toby rogers #ticci toby #creepypasta headcanon #jeff the killer #eyeless jack #ben drowned headcanons #ben drowned creepypasta #ben drowned arg #ben drowned hcs

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lovearthur · 2 months

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hi there! I saw that your requests were open and wanted to see if you could write this fic for me!

so, I was thinking, Javier Escuella x Fem/GN!reader who is really attached to their horse, like REALLY attached, and one day there horse gets injured during something (like fighting O'Driscolls or a wolf attack or sum like that) and needs to rest and recover. Reader is full of anxiety and has been all over the place since and Javier, the kind soul he is, takes it upon himself to calm reader down and comfort them.

feel free to ignore if it's too much or you just simply don't want to write it!

-☀️⭐️

𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒅 𝒂𝒅𝒎𝒊𝒓𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏 (𝒋𝒂𝒗𝒊𝒆𝒓 𝒆𝒔𝒄𝒖𝒆𝒍𝒍𝒂 𝒙 𝒇𝒆𝒎 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓)

𝓑𝓔𝓕𝓞𝓡𝓔 𝓨𝓞𝓤 𝓡𝓔𝓐𝓓! fem/afab reader . javier is a sweetheart:( . horse injury . reader being a huuge worry . google translations for spainish

cariño (dear) & mi nina bonita (my pretty girl)

u were attached to ur horse, beth. like.. REALLLY attached. u adored her with every fibre of ur being.

which is understandable since ur lover, javier was the one who bought her for u. and u were forever grateful for it, too. ur horse is a beautiful brown and white shire, u absolutely love her to bits. u were always seen brushing her, feeding her, cleaning ur saddle.. everything. everyone knew how fond u were.

but unfortunately, she got injured. ur precious beth got injured. u were riding away quickly as possible while being chased down by wolves, only for one to be much too quick, and biting a aprt of her leg. luckily, u both got back to the camp with no more problems. u were overwhelmed with guilt and anxiety, how could u let her get hurt? out of all the folk in this gang? u got her injured. u kept telling urself it was all ur fault because... it was. ur mind was going crazy... what if she doesn't recover properly? what is she had a life problem afterwards? what if she doesn't like u anymore? what if... u didn't want to even think of that but u couldn't help it, u were so so worried for her. she was ur precious girl.

here u were now, walking back and forth near the campfire while javier was leaning back against a log, listening to u while u were rambling on and on about how worried u were for beth. ur horse was everything to u, u treated her like a real person sometimes... even talking to her knowing u wouldn't get a reply. u were scared, anxious, fretting...

"i know javi but what if- i wouldn't know what t'do with myself, she's such a special girl t'me 'nd-" oh, i dont know i jus' hope shes alrigh'." u felt ur voice shake a little, u were beginning to get ahead of urself and he noticed."hey, hey, hey, mi niña bonita.. im sure she's gonna rest jus fine. okay?" he says, trying his best to comfort u.. the sweetheart he is. he placed his hand on ur shoulder, looking into ur eyes. "ella esta bien, im sure." u look away from him, wanting to believe him badly but u weren't sure. "i know but 'm worried fer her. I've adored her ever since u bought her, jus' fer me." u reply as u look at him with a small pout and yet, u feel so lucky to be with him. he was always so respectful and gentle towards u.

"i know, cariño. i promise you she's gonna be okay. with you by her side the most." he says once more as his hands begin to caress ur hips. His words begin to slowly calm u down, he was right. She was gonna be okay, just fine and dandy. she was one strong girl, after grounding urself, u wrapped ur arms around his neck before u leaned in to kiss his neck. a giggle escapes ur lips as u looked at him, a red stain left on his rough skin.

"'m such a lucky girl, yer always so kind t'me." u say with that sweet smile of urs as ur fingers mindlessly play with his hair. "no, i think im the luckiest man to have you, amor."

javier escuella... save me... javier escuella... i hope this wasn't so ooc or i would cry im so fond of him:((

#javier escuella #javier escuella x reader #rdr2 fanfic #rdr2 fluff #rdr2 x reader #rdr2 x you #rdr #rdr2 #red dead fanfic #red dead redemption 2 #red dead redemption

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she-posts-nerdy-stuff · 5 months

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Can you tell us what the answers to the six of crows color experiment is?

Yep! ☺️

I realised too late that I really should’ve organised it as a poll somehow, because I’ve had loads of responses (thank you all very much) and whilst a lot of them agreed with me there were a few I wasn’t expecting. My associations in the order than I wrote them in the original post:

Red - Nina

Green - Jesper

Black - Kaz

Blue - Matthias

Purple - Inej

Orange - Wylan

So generally speaking a lot of people either agreed with exactly what I’d said or swapped Wylan and Jesper, which makes a lot of sense. A few people also moved Jesper and Inej around, which I understand and I wanted to add on that point I always connect Inej to purple with the idea of her reclaiming the colour and its power in the same way that she referred to her knives as her “proper claws” to reclaim the image of the lynx. Purple is the colour that was used against her and the colour that represents Ketterdam (Stadwatch uniforms, colour of Kruge notes, and the Geldrenner Ketterdam suite being the main examples); with a part of what separates Inej’s journey and her ship from Kaz’s style of vengeance is the acknowledgement that the city itself is the monster she’s facing, she’s been forced to come to terms with the idea that what happened to her wasn't the result of one terrible person or group of terrible people, but a dangerous environment and society that was never going to see her as an equal go matter what she did in life (this realisation is particularly linked to the “Rare Spices” billboard, which I wrote a post on a while back so if anyone wants to read that let me know and I’ll tag you) so by reclaiming the colour she is not only reclaiming the power Heleen took from her but the city as a whole. I hope I worded that all okay I worry that my point doesn’t come across properly it feels unclear please let me know and I’ll try to explain it differently. However I also understand the perspective a few people raised in their responses of wanting to separate her from that colour because she should always be seen as more than who she was forced to be, it’s just my personal interpretation that part of her pathway to healing is reclaiming the symbols used against her as a symbol of power to use against the system and people that put her in her position.

With Jesper and Wylan, I can definitely see it going both ways and I guess it also depends on what shades of the colours you’re imagining for each of them. For me, Wylan is orange because it can be a quiet, beautiful sunrise but it can also be fire and rage, it can be dark and deeply lonely but it can also be bright and blazing, it can be the first light of home in the dark but it can also be the flames of righteousness. “You were angry. I needed you righteous” “well, you’ve got me”. I realise all/most colours have a natural dual nature but I think orange does particularly and I think that it compliments him wonderfully. I connect Jesper to green for brightness, fun, the “lime green” clothes and vibrant plaid, but also for the farm and the card tables and the painful difference between them - the way his life split in two like a log cut down the middle (I don’t have my book with me so not quoting, but he says something along those lines in Crooked Kingdom when talking about how he ended up moving from the university to the Barrel).

I think the one’s who were always connected the same way were Nina to red and Kaz to black, and I wanted to add a couple of reasons I didn’t see anyone mention yet and that would be Nina being the “little red bird” and Kaz wearing black, mercher suits to mock them and to look, by Ketterdam’s colour-represented social hierarchy that I could talk about forever, like he fits in with them in the upper echelon of society.

And most people also maintained Matthias with blue, connections to water, ice, storms, but I think also it’s worth emphasising his blue eyes that Nina finds so beautiful

I will go through later and tag everyone who has responded so far in this post so everyone can see the results if they want to, thanks to everyone who responded ❤️

#grishaverse #six of crows #crooked kingdom #leigh bardugo #inej ghafa #kaz brekker #nina zenik #jesper fahey #wylan van eck #matthias helvar #kanej #Wesper #helnik #save shadow and bone #save six of crows

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beauspot · 9 months

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See ok this was my worry about this whole coffee miracle theory thing.

This 👇🏾 Google Doc is floating around and it’s just so…

Essentially if you don’t want to read it they said that season 2 had bad writing but actually it’s bad on purpose because neil is setting up something for season 3, that something being the metatron rewriting the book of life in the most obnoxiously arrogant way possible.

Now the theory on its own is fine but i take massive issue with calling the writing in season 2 “bad”. Especially when one of the examples they gave was maggie and nina not ending up together when that’s what was set up. It makes me wonder if this person actually watched the season or listened to it if they were able to with their head so far up their own ass.

why do people dislike this season so much? i genuinely don’t understand. it hurts but that doesn’t make it bad. it has some of my favorite aziraphale and crowley scenes, the new side characters are so fun and interesting. the plot is concise and lovely and it’s slow on purpose because as neil said this is the quiet before the storm. this season was setting up season 3 which is where the novel would have started off at.

some people need to log off seriously

#very quickly delving into plate of corn territory #good omens #good omens 2 #good omens season 2 #good omens spoilers #good omens 2 spoilers #aziraphale #a z fell #crowley #anthony j crowley #aziracrow #ineffable husbands #nina good omens #maggie good omens #nina x maggie #ineffable bureaucracy

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muriel-not-the-dim-one · 1 month

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Journal Entry - Muriel 37th Scrivener

I’ve been thinking a lot about Mr. Fells Journals. I had to look up some words again after talking with Maggie and Nina. “Private” came up a lot and something Nina called “NONYA”.

Private: belonging to or for the use of one particular person or group of people only.

Maggie said NONYA was an “acronym.” I haven’t figured out for what.

I really thought long and hard. What group of people would Mr. Fells Journals be for? Of course they would be for Mr. Fell since he wrote them.

I’m the Assistant Bookkeeper to Mr. Fell, and in actuality, I’m also the 37th Scrivener to the Supreme Archangel Aziraphale so I wouldn’t really be in the group. I would be the keeper of the journals.

I decided the other people in the “group” would be someone mentioned in the journal. But it couldn’t just be anyone.

I decided to flip through one of them and see who was mentioned the most.

I saw Gabriel, Michael, Uriel and Sandalphons names but only a few times. Job, Sitis and their children. A few others I didn’t know…………

But Mr. Crowley……in the first journal I looked into, Mr. Crowley was mentioned over 200 times.

I knew then, it was Mr. Crowley and Mr. Fell that were the group. The group of the two of them.

Luckily Mr. Fell dated and numbered his journal entries, like he taught me to do. Now to put them in order and begin to log them into my journals for safekeeping.

I couldn’t decide if this was something that the Supreme Archangel Aziraphale should be bothered with, being he’s so busy and all.

So I did what Mr. Crowley liked to do. I flipped a coin.

@secretdiaryofcrowley it came up tails.

#crowley #aziraphale #ineffable husbands #muriel not the dim one #Muriel journals #go rp

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phoen1xr0se · 8 months

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New Fic on AO3: Don't Fall Away From Me

Thought I would be brave and post my post S2 fanfic - it's set shortly after the TRAUMATIC events of Season 2 and throws Crowley and Muriel together into an adventure neither of them expected when Aziraphale goes AWOL. Lots of angst, very fluff, a few giggles. Feedback welcome.

Image credit: @mistysblueboxstuff (AMAZING ARTIST)

Don't Fall Away From Me - Chapter One MURIEL

Today is my fortieth day on Earth as a human bookseller. It seemed important to keep records of my time here on Earth - after all, record-keeping is what I do best - and I was inspired by Mr. Fell the traitor the Supreme Archangel's own personal records. I discovered a whole heap of them at the back of the shop on my second day, and although I am unsure who "Diary" is, or what the purpose is of describing how a demon's hair moves in the breeze, I do very much admire dedication to accurate record-keeping. I will be keeping a log of my activities and the things I have learned about humanity.

Here are some of the things I have learned so far:

1 - There isn't much book selling that goes along with the job. Or interacting with humans, really , which is a bit disappointing. Rather, I sit in the shop all day and wait for customers that never come, and read. I like the reading, and I'm used to being alone after millions of years as a scrivener, so it's not all bad.

2 - Books are brilliant! They hold so much information, and somehow make you feel as if you are another person for a little while. I am learning so much about humanity by reading all their funny little stories. I still haven't quite figured out why humans do it, create wild stories and put them in print, but it's jolly good fun.

3 - Maggie (a human) is very kind. She comes in every morning and asks me if I want anything from the coffee shop. I always say no, of course, but she comes by anyway. She is always helping me to understand things better.

4 - Nina (another human) seems less kind but is actually nice. There is a human saying that says "don't judge a book by its cover" and I discovered that it doesn't actually describe books, but people who behave differently than their appearance might suggest. Isn't that funny? But it is a good description of Nina. Nina doesn't speak to me much but did give a bag of clothes to Maggie to pass on to me, which was super kind of her. After all, my human police officer outfit was no longer suitable, and I was a little unsure about miracleing myself a new outfit in case I got it wrong. As it turned out, apparently putting on every item in the bag was also a mistake, but Maggie helped me to fix it.

5 - Every night at sundown, a large black car drives slowly past the bookshop. I always try and wave to Mr Crowley but he doesn't seem to see me, which is odd as I believe he used to spend a lot of time here. This behaviour seems suspicious, especially for a former demon, which is why I am noting it.

Muriel closed the leather-bound journal with a satisfying clap and looked around the bookshop. The sky was darkening outside, and as if by magic, the flickering low-level lighting around the bookshop sputtered into life, casting Muriel and the books into a warm yellow glow.

"Three, two, one..." whispered Muriel, and, just as expected, they heard the low growl of an engine approaching. A black Bentley pulled into view, going as slowly as a car could. As always, Muriel approached the window and waved cheerily. From behind the wheel, the driver gave no indiciation that he had seen Muriel's wave - his face was set like stone and kept on driving, out of sight.

Across the road, Muriel saw that Maggie and Nina had also been following the car's movements from the coffee shop. They were exchanging words. Maggie shook her head and Nina's eyes met Muriel's. She raised her hand in a wave. Muriel went to wave back when they realised that Nina was actually waving at them to come over.

Muriel froze, flustered. They hadn't actually left the bookshop since being appointed to be its protector - they took the responsibility of protecting the Supreme Archangel's personal property very seriously indeed. But why shouldn't they venture out and interact with these humans? After all, they had been so excited to get out of the office and onto Earth, why waste an opportunity? It would look more suspicious to avoid them, Muriel decided, so they left the shop and crossed the street, smiling brightly at the two women.

"Hello Muriel," said Maggie, smiling. "I like your outfit today. Very... bright."

Muriel looked down at their choices for today, green knee length socks, a yellow corduroy skirt, a sparkly purple belt and a rainbow poncho. "Thanks! I love how much colour you... we... humans have to choose from. Colours are the best."

Nina and Maggie exchanged a look. "Hey, come inside for a coffee," said Nina. "We need to talk."

Muriel's face flickered with panic at being offered a beverage, but Maggie gently touched their arm. "It's alright, Muriel, you don't need to drink anything if you don't want to. It's just what... we... humans say sometimes as an excuse to sit and chat."

Muriel beamed. "Oh, well, of course, I knew that."

Muriel followed Maggie and Nina into Give Me Coffee Or Give Me Death, and let their eyes wander over the brightly painted walls. Sometimes it felt like their eyes couldn't take it all in, all the colour, all the EVERYTHING, everywhere. It was so vastly different from the infinite, empty whiteness they had been accustomed to in Heaven.

"Right," said Nina, after making two coffees and sitting down at a table in the empty cafe, "we need to talk about our friend Mr Crowley."

Muriel flinched. "He is not MY friend, I barely even know him. I mean, I arrested him once, but not really... and he's a de- de-" Muriel faltered, trying to think of a cover for her mistake.

"A... demon?" suggested Maggie softly.

Muriel let out a very unconvincing laugh. "A... what? A... no, don't be so... I mean, what are you... we humans don't believe in... in..." Their eyes flicked between Maggie and Nina wildly.

"It's okay, you don't have to lie," said Nina with a wry smile. "We may be human but we're not stupid. We know about Heaven and Hell and all you... lot," she finished lamely. "I mean I can't even believe that these words are coming out of my mouth, but here we are. I'm having coffee with an angel! I mean, I'm assuming you are, anyway - you don't strike me as the demon type."

Maggie smiled at Nina whilst Muriel struggled to find a reply. On the one hand, they were meant to be inhabiting Earth discreetly and it was entirely possible that they could get into a lot of trouble for having their identity revealed. But on the other, it would be so nice not to have to lie anymore... and Maggie and Nina had been so very kind to them so far.

"You don't need to worry, Muriel, we're not trying to cause trouble for you. I rather think we may have done too much of that already," said Maggie, her blue eyes clouded with worry. "Do you know what happened between Mr Fell and Mr Crowley on that day?"

Maggie didn't need to remind anybody which day she meant. Muriel shook their head. "No. Crowley said that he wanted them to have some "us" time at the Ritz, whatever that is, and then Azira... uh, Mr Fell, came in to tell him about his big promotion."

"Promotion?"

"Yes!" Muriel beamed, remembering. "You see, he was talking to the Metatron - that's the voice of God, you know - and he was offered the job of Supreme Archangel! Since, you know, Gabriel decided to go off with..." Muriel trailed off. They found the whole thing rather puzzling still. "So that's why I am here now, looking after the bookshop, and Az... I mean, Mr Fell, is, you know..." they pointed upwards. "Up there."

Maggie and Nina exchanged dark looks. "So... he left, then. And... how did Mr Crowley take this news?" asked Maggie. "After all, it seemed as though they had known each other for quite some time. Was he... okay?"

Muriel shrugged their shoulders. "I don't know. Apparently Metatron had told Mr Fell that he could restore Crowley into an angel and return to Heaven... but I don't see how that could have worked, after everything he's done. I mean, he is a demon, after all. I don't really see how any of this works. Mr Fell isn't exactly the first person I should think of when I think of a Supreme Archangel. I mean, he spends time with demons and humans, and... ingesting things..." Their eyes rested on the half-drunk coffee cups on the table and wrinkled their nose.

All three of them were silent for a moment.

"Well we know Mr Crowley didn't take him up on that offer, and we know that he's been coming by here every night since," said Nina matter-of-factly. "I think we can probably assume the poor man is heartbroken." Maggie nodded sadly in agreement.

"What... what do you mean?" questioned Muriel, looking quizzically at Nina.

"You know, Mr Fell and that Crowley. They're in love. We were trying to help them work it out so they'd stop hopping around the issue, but I feel like we were probably too late."

Muriel's eyes were wide as saucers. "In... love?"

Muriel felt a strange feeling pass through their body. They had read lots about love already, and not the celestial peaceful kind of love but the human kind - complicated, confusing emotional love - to Muriel, it all seemed a bit far-fetched but humans seemed to be totally mad about it! They'd read dozens of stories where humans did all kinds of incredible, unthinkable and unexpected things, and all for this very abstract concept of love. With a sudden sinking feeling, they recalled how many passages of Aziraphale's journal were devoted to describing the demon Crowley in painstaking detail. The description of his flame-red hair being tousled by a sea breeze and how the light would catch his shining yellow eyes. They recalled seeing Crowley drape across an armchair with barely an inch between him and Aziraphale. The way Crowley had called Aziraphale "angel" without a hint of irony. The way Crowley now stayed so close to the bookshop once owned by Aziraphale but refused to look directly at it.

Blinking, they looked over at Maggie and Nina, who had fallen into bickering over whether or not they had helped or hindered the couple, blithely unaware of the revelation Muriel was experiencing.

"I... need to get back to the bookshop now," said Muriel, standing up abruptly. "Thank you for inviting me for the 'coffee and chat'."

"Oh, okay... I also wanted to let you know that it's the monthly Whickber Street Traders and Shopkeepers Association Meeting tomorrow evening, I've had my arm twisted into holding it here. You'll come?" said Nina.

"It'll be a nice opportunity to meet some of the other traders," said Maggie with a reassuring smile. "If you're going to be sticking around a while, it'll be good for you to get to know the neighbourhood properly. And we'll be there in case you..." she paused briefly, "I mean, to help you if you need it."

"Er, yes, if that's what a human bookseller does then I will be there," said Muriel, pasting on a smile that didn't quite reach their eyes. They thanked Nina and Maggie again and returned to the bookshop, locking the door behind them and making their way to the small bedroom, the soft yellow lights extinguishing themselves as they walked by.

Muriel had taken over the bedroom that had been formerly occupied by Gabriel the amnesiac Archangel, and a small miracle had seen the tiny room turn a vibrant shade of lavender, and pictures of random things that Muriel had drawn lined the walls above their bed. Muriel changed into an oversized Back To The Future T-Shirt and climbed into bed. They had no need to sleep, but they had begun to spend their nights lying in bed reading and feigning sleep to keep up appearances. Tonight, though, Muriel's mind was whirring with brand new information, and they weren't sure that they would be able to concentrate on the unfinished copy of Persuasion on their bedside table.

After a few minutes of staring blankly at the ceiling, Muriel got up from bed and crept back into the bookshop. From Aziraphale's desk, they picked up a book bound in green leather and padded quietly back to bed. They held the book carefully in their hands and, despite having already skimmed through some of it, somehow realised that reading it this time would be quite different. What Nina and Maggie had unintentionally revealed to them, they knew, deep down, somehow changed... everything.

Taking a deep breath, Muriel opened the first page and began to read, and for the first time, also understood.

#good omens #crowley #aziraphale #neil gaiman #aziracrow #david tennant #ao3 fanfic #ao3 writer #muriel #ineffable husbands #ineffable idiots #ineffable bureaucracy #writing to cope with trauma #seriously season 2 destroyed me #but i guess im a writer now #good omens fandom #crowly x aziraphale

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narrativelysignificantturtleduck · 5 months

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zuko has a daddy-issues desire to impress piandao and prove his skills so whenever he's at piandao's and he loses spars to sokka (since WHEN was sokka so distractingly handsome???) he feels terrible. piandao must be so disappointed in him! little does he know that it's actually making piandao like him more. he's watching zuko stumble over himself like awww i've been there :) i love my awkward gay son

#nina's personal log #zukka #piandao

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popstarryeyed · 4 months

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happy fool's gold by lucy dacus day

#nina's personal log

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spoogster · 7 months

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Tobias.

(This is literally just rambling, please don't get mad for any of this. Hes literally me (fictive, but talking from a viewer point of view))

silly goober skrunkly skrunkle squishy guy (literally me)

Headcanons and what not.

-Doesn't work for slenderman. Never wanted to. It was Slenders mind control, his heavy influence. The people he killed? Not as many as you think. But the people he did kill, it wasn't his fault.

-Hates Slenderman. Like absolutely despises him. The only thing Slender was good for was giving him a place to stay, even if it wasn't much.

-Slender mansion? Slender manor? No. Abandoned campsite? Log cabins in the woods? Yes. He shares a cabin with Cody (X-virus), and Jeff used to be there until he got kicked out (literally) for trying to cut a smile into Cody and Tobys masks and faces. They got Liu to replace Jeff.

-Decent friends with: Cody (has to because they live together), Nina (she likes him more than he likes her but its okay), Natalie (they've always been chill), Liu (they're buddies, not like besties, but still friends), Helen (they do art together), Kate (guitar + mission buddies).

-Meh: E. J (has helped Toby recover(multiple times)), any of the animals (some of them bark too loud(one tried to bite his finger off)), Ben Drowned (gaming buddies), Jane (shes nice but doesn't really talk to him), Puppeteer (from their very few interactions, he's alright), Sally (forces him to have teapartys, though sometimes he enjoys it).

-Get away respectfully: Jeff (many reasons), Nurse Ann (shes pretty but too tall and scary seeming), Smile hd pinkie pie (sometimes fun but a little too murderous for him), Splendorman (a bit obnoxious sometimes).

-Get away. Like now.: 0ff3nd3rman (uhmm), Slenderman (ruined his life), Sully (no), Laughing Jack + Jill (too loud, annoying, jack gave him poisoned candy one time).

-No opinion: Sonic. Exe, BEN, Dina, Trendorman, Candypop, Jason, Lulu.

-Music taste is The Front Bottoms, Mindless Self Indulgence, System Of A Down, Panic! At The Disco, Get Scared, Bring Me The Horizon, Greenday, Blink 182, Lincoln, Three Days Grace, My Chemical Romance, Pierce The Veil, Lovejoy, TV Girl, Mitski.

-Clothing is usually whatever he has that still fits him. Some of it is from an emo era he went through and is still in. So like, band t-shirts, studded belts, raccon tail clips, chains, ect. But sometimes he goes for more casual which is usually sweaters and baggy pants.

-Appearance. He had a fringe at one point but grew it out. Never cuts his hair, so it gets in his way a lot (ponytail is the solution). Curly hair but straightens it a lot of the time. Piercings galore. Hazel eyes ((note: sometimes I give him heterochromia cause it's cool)). Pale skin but not like the original Toby kind of pale. Has always been tall for his age but stopped growing around 18-19 because he was going through a tough time and food was hard to come by, he was too scared to steal, the food Slender gave him could have been poisoned, who knows? So hes left as about 5'10-5'11. Hes pretty thin but is slowly building muscle as time goes on. Has some chub in the stomach but he isnt too worried about it.

-His mask is made of a thick fabric on the outside and has metal bars on the front of the mask to almost represent a mussel (canon).

-Doesnt actually like turtlenecks, they make his neck feel trapped and weird. But he wears them anyways because they hide his proxy symbol that was permanently engraved in his skin (by Slender).

-Fingerless gloves? Yessir. They help cover his scared hands. As well as they just look cool. And whenever he kills someone it's less likely he'll get his dna on the body.

-Raccoon person. Collects things he finds that others would consider trash. Like pop tabs, broken glass pieces, shiny things, rocks, ect. Messy hair. Just like his personality gives off raccon.

-Cheek gash is because he chewed the inside of his cheek so much that the skin tore. And he didn't really care so the hole kept getting bigger until eventually he got himself to stop chewing it. But now the gash is too big to heal.

-Has a couple guitars that he stole from music shops. The only one he didn't steal was one he got When he was first taken in. Slender gave it to him as "something to do" when he's bored. At first he didn't want it and never touched it. But he soon realised that it was really boring there. He tries to forget that Slender gave it to him. It's really beaten now, has worn down spots, and a bit of old blood dried onto the wood near the bottom of the strings because he strums too hard.

-Acoustic guitar: The really old musty beaten up one that Slender gave him. Almost turquoise in colour. Electric guitar: Black guitar that almost looks like something a rock star would have. Also kind of old. Doesn't use that one as much.

-Likes singing but gets nervous around people that arent in his cabin or Nat.

-Likes cuddles, hand kisses (platonically), head pats and pets, people playing with his hair. But he doesn't like asking for it because he finds it embarrassing.

-Not as childish as people think. Just clingy to people he enjoys.

-Drawing is something he really enjoys doing if he's not playing the guitar. He'll draw people from the other cabins, characters from movies and shows he likes, and even characters from the Slenderverse. Not really that good at drawing anything else.

-Always too nervous to show people his drawings or things he likes.

-Doesn't like being called "Ticci" Toby. He never liked it. Will probably get mad if you call him it more than once.

-Has terrible memory. Not even from Slenderman, he's just always had bad memory, and Slender didnt help at all. He will probably to get basic things like birthdays or people, even his own sometimes.

-Has never met anyone from the Slenderverse. But wants to.

-Feels bad for the others affected by Slender and the Slender sickness. But also enjoys the series. Even if the people go through literal hell.

-Would like to meet:

Tim, Brian, and Skully

Evan, Steph, and Jeff

Patrick and Michael

Chris

Milo/Mr scars and the Observer

-Things hes interested in include other muderers, weapons (has a journal for writing the information), horror (analog horror + args), music, art.

-He really enjoys watching the old slasher movies and he probably has them for cd and vhs. But also enjoys Tim burton movies. As well as Spider-man movies and series.

-As for shows. South Park (enjoys the humour), Superstore (enjoys the humour), and just any paranormal show (finds it interesting).

-His favourite weapon (axe) is a Tactical Axe or more widely known as a Tactical Tomakawk Axe. But theyre too expensive for him too buy. There was one time where he stole one. But someone from another cabin stole it and he hasnt gotten it back.

-Food. He likes pizza, usually cheese or pepperoni (or cheese with black olives, tehe). Also enjoys fruit, like watermelon, baby grapes, apples (galas or green apples), and pineapple.

-Smoking? Vape? Drugs? No. Alcohol? Sometimes. Its just for a relief sometimes or cause he needed it. But he's not an alcoholic and never will be.

-Knows how to use bow and arrow

(Im probably gonna hate this in like a day or two so yeah)

#creepypasta #toby rogers #ticci toby #ticci toby headcanons #ticci toby hc #tobias rogers #tobias erin rogers

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bloodyknucklesforme · 6 months

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Maybe I'm Afraid of You | Carnal XI

Carnal(adjective) : relating to or given to crude bodily pleasures and appetites

Simon was born with what his father called 'The Curse'. A wanton craving for taboo meat. Since meeting the similarly cursed Johnny, the two had formed a bond. They didn't just fight together, they ate together, slept together, and shared everything.

When a favor to Price reveals another cursed person, Simon worries she could destroy everything.

Masterpost

CW: cannibalism, gore, parental abuse

This is very much a horror fic mostly based around the films Raw (2017) and Bones and All (2022), if you sit through those you should be good here. This is my first horror fic.

Chapter Title Credit: Bite the Hand - Boygenius

Nina had always been good about texting or calling him back. Always within an hour if she wasn’t asleep. He’d been talking to her more than normal since the Arthur incident. His car had been found but not his body.

No mention of Nina in any of the articles. Seems he never told anyone about her. His parents seemed content in blaming anyone not English for his disappearance. Their lack of closure didn’t weigh on his heart.

The link to the house’s camera feed did weigh on him. He’d resisted up until this point. It was a last resort. He couldn’t invade her privacy like that. She’d never forgive him.

He tried to understand her. Anyone would have gone a bit off living in that house with a father like that. They never discussed any rules for her response time. She wasn’t one of his men whom he could order around. She didn’t owe him.

Yet one hour turned to three and then eight and then twelve and sixteen.

He sat in his office, cigar in hand. His cursor hovered over the icon.

“Just click it, sign in and you’ll have full access to the cameras,” Gaz said, handing him a slip of paper with the log in. “They’re already labeled by room but you can also see all of them at once.”

He called again.

“Sorry, I missed your call John. Leave a message or text me. I’ll call you back soon.” There was a high pitched beep as the recording started. He was the only one who called her so she personalized her voicemail for him. He didn’t leave another message.

It took a moment for the cameras to load up. He didn’t see her. The bedroom was empty, the living room was empty, the dining room empty, the kitchen…

There was blood everywhere. On the floor, on the butcher block and leading in from the front and out the back. He dropped his cigar into the ashtray on his desk. He reversed the footage.

A body, Nina was dragging it from the kitchen and out the back door. It was mutilated. He went back further. It had been resting on the butcher block. Further back.

Simon walked in. What the bloody hell was Simon doing there? He took food out of a pan on the stove, ignoring the body entirely. John followed him through the cameras.

The foyer was covered in blood. He reversed till the night before. There wasn't a sound. He watched Nina fly down the stairs and out the front door. She came back in, a body in her arms.

MacTavish.

They fell onto the floor and she flipped him over. He was bleeding. Price couldn’t make it out very well but it looked like he was stabbed, the knife still in his side. Nina was trying to stop the bleeding. She looked terrified.

Simon ran in, took charge of everything. MacTavish seemed stable and they moved him. Simon appeared again and dragged a different body through the house.

Price shut his laptop.

He called MacTavish and then Simon. He called Nina again.

He texted Nina one last time.

“I’m coming over”

A thirty minute drive gave him time to think. He grabbed a rifle just in case.

He never should have brought the boys into this. He cursed himself not just handling it on his own. He could have protected her better. Protected her from them, from herself.

“I’ve given up on trying to help her myself.”

John knew it was strange for him to be so protective of her. They had no blood ties and Godfather was title she’d bestowed on him sometime after her father’s suicide.

She had endeared herself to him over the years. Many dinners at her father’s table with the rest of the unit. She was never invited to these dinners, always eating beforehand or at the small table in the kitchen.

She’d watch from the top of the stairs as they moved to the sitting room to smoke and drink. He was the only one to stand in the foyer and talk to her. She was funny and always read any book he recommended. He guessed she didn’t have many friends.

She was always a little strange, looking at him like they were two different species. Big brown eyes flicking between him and the archway to the sitting room. He quickly learned she was listening and watching for her father. The one arm chair would creak and she’d pick up her skirt and slink away without making a sound. He missed her when William sent her away to school. A fancy boarding school run by nuns. They weren’t Catholic but it made more sense when John heard about how strict it was. They still rapped rulers on the girls' knuckles for talking in class.

William had invited the unit to his house for another dinner. A regular celebration anytime one of them was promoted. They’d all stay at an inn in town and the next morning set off pheasant hunting. William still complained about the fox hunting laws. The house was always quiet but it seemed quieter without Nina.

There was the sound of gravel crackling as a car pulled into the driveway. They all stopped and looked at each other, no one was missing from the table. Banging on the door, almost as loud as the thunder outside. William waved it off.

“Ignore it. Anyone worth answering should know it's rude to visit during dinner.”

More banging, two fists on the wood.

“Let me in! Dad! LET ME IN!”

John was closest so he stood up to answer.

Nina was there, still in her tartan skirt, navy sweater and brown loafers, soaking wet to the bone. She shoved past him.

“Are you all too drunk to answer the phone?” She asked angrily.

“Nina, go upstairs.”There was only one rule in that house and that was not to embarrass her father and she had done just that.

“I need to pay the cabbie.” She snapped, dripping onto the carpet. John fished his wallet out and went outside. He gave the man a stack of pounds, more than covering the cost, and grabbed her suitcase out of the back.

There was arguing coming from the kitchen when he came back inside. A trail of wet patches leading from the foyer and through the dining room into the kitchen. The rest of the men sat awkwardly at the table. William was gone. John went to take his seat again, it wasn’t his business.

There was the clattering of chairs. William screamed at her followed by Nina yelping in pain. John jumped up and rushed in.

Nina was on the floor, clutching her face, mouth bloodied. William’s arm was bleeding, in his hand was his belt. They stared at each other like two predators about to lunge at each other again.

William was seething in a way John had only seen on the battlefield. He moved before John could react, striking Nina’s arm with the belt. She flinched, turning to shield her arm and face and he struck her side. John grabbed his arm.

“William, stop!” He put himself between them.

“Get her out of my sight, John. Now.” He pulled his arm away and turned his back to them. John knelt and hooked his arms under Nina’s and pulled her up. “Not through the dining room!”

She was shaking out of anger, he could tell from how she stared at her father’s back. He took her upstairs through the servants' staircase.

“Let me look at ya,” He said, once he sat her down on her bed. There were bruises on her face, arm and side. Her lips were bloodied but she had no cuts. He ignored it for the time and got her a washcloth. “I’ll get your stuff and some food. Just stay here.”

He wasn’t going to leave her there. If he wasn’t his superior, John might have beat him with that belt.

Everyone was leaving as he headed downstairs, William apologizing at the door.

“She’s very ill. A seizure disorder. She gets disoriented and very frightened, and doesn't know where she is. Her mother suffered from the same. I apologize.”

John stood on the stairs till the last man left and William shut the door.

“She doesn’t have seizures,” he said.

“She has whatever I say she has.” William turned to glare at him. “She fucking bit me, John. She can’t stay here.”

“She can stay with me.”

“No.”

“William, she can’t go back to school and she can’t stay here. She’s seventeen, you can’t kick her out. She can stay with me.”

“I’m going to have her sectioned.”

“No,” John shook his head.

“She needs help, John. I can no longer provide it. She is a danger to herself and to others! I need her out of my house!”

“You’re going to send her away. You beat her, William! Of course she fucking attacked you.”

“I still outrank you, Price! My family is none of your concern!” He swung the front door open. “Get out! Now!”

When they returned the next day for hunting, Nina was gone. He never got to bring her food or her things. It would be almost a year before he saw her again. She was subdued, thinner than before. It was her father’s retirement party. He reasoned she was there because her absence would draw questions and William was nothing if not a posh cunt obsessed with appearances.

“I’m sorry,” He whispered as he hugged her. “Are you okay?”

“I’m better,” she said with a forced smile. “I’m going to kill him.”

He didn’t believe her. She didn’t have it in her. Then a little over a year later he got the call. William had killed himself. He didn’t question it, especially not with the note he left. She was a good girl who’d been raised by a cruel man. He never asked what happened to her over that year or where she’d been sent. If it was anything as draconian as the school he sent her to, he couldn’t blame her for her hate.

Then there was Arthur. But he’d hit her so it wasn’t her fault. She was defending herself.

Now there was this mess.

Simon and MacTavish were killers for work.

He’d known Simon for ten years or longer. He’d done things but he wasn’t a killer without cause.

MacTavish?

There was a time he looked at Simon like he was God. He was a good man though, some anger issues but not cruel.

He still went to the front door with the rifle in hand. Heavy footsteps towards the door.

“Good to see you, Simon.” He said flatly. Simon without a mask was rare. The man’s brown eyes dug into him like dull blades. The shadows under his eyes were so dark that probably didn’t need the grease paint.

“Sir.” He blocked any view into the house.

“Where’s Nina?”

“Upstairs.”

“MacTavish?”

“Also upstairs.”

“Are they alive?”

“Why wouldn’t they be?”

“Simon, I saw what happened.” He nodded his head up towards where one of the cameras should be hidden. Simon glanced up and chuckled.

“Guess we need to talk then.”

“Yes, we do.”

Once again, sorry this took forever. I have two more chapters lined up that I wrote while writing this one that I hope to finish soon.

Tag list: @gogh-with-the-flow @queen-ilmaree @cathnoneofyourbusiness

#Carnal #simon ghost riley x oc #simon ghost riley x john soap mactavish #ghostsoap #modern warfare II #modern warfare #call of duty fanfic #call of duty #john soap mactavish #John soap mactavish x oc #soapghost #simon ghost riley #ghost x soap

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killinggamebusters · 3 months

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Alright the humors worn out and now I'm gonna roast this anon entire manifesto before blocking them, TW under cut for lots of nastiness and mentions of torture and death threats and abuse, I shouldn't even give them this honor but honestly I want to be able to roast them forever and have something to point back too and also with my memory I'd start to question if this even happened and that's no fun!

"If you fully admitted that you ship abuse as a coping mechanism and DIDN'T glorify Ouma, didn't reblog shit about how "actually he and Gonta were totally good friends, even though Kokichi constantly abused him, drove him to despair and savored every moment of his execution". Kokichi is a subhuman monster and the only person in all fiction that ACTUALLY DESERVES to suffer through Gold Experience Requiem's infinite death loop. You are a disgusting piece of human garbage that fully deserves to die"

Incredibly funny of you to fucking put a jojo reference in you saying about how awful kokichi is, Dio is worse, I am shipping you with the anon who won't stop calling Kaito a rapist on one of my other blogs. Anyways he's a kiddo in a killing game with a murder total of like 2, he did bad things but, like, saying he's the worst character in all of fiction when making a jojo reference is fucking wild, Dio is right there!! Literally kicking dogs!!!!! Kokichi doesn't kick dogs and is thus an inherently better person

"Have you ever heard of a torture called scaphism? Here's the lovely description: "The king decreed that Mithridates should be put to death in boats; which execution is after the following manner: Taking two boats framed exactly to fit and answer each other, they lie down in one of them the malefactor that suffers, upon his back; then, covering it with the other, and so setting them together that the head, hands, and feet of him are left outside, and the rest of his body lies shut up within, they"

Wow you are so bad at actually explaining things within an ask, you could have summed this up in like 15 words, "its where they shut everything but your hands head and feet in a boat" get to the fucking POINT

"hey find his flesh devoured, and swarms of such noisome creatures preying upon and, as it were, growing to his inwards. In this way Mithridates, after suffering for seventeen days, at last expired." This is what you deserve. "Shou Tucker is totes a good father to Nina that loves her so so much and he TOTALLY HAD to turn her into a chimera because he had no other option" that's what you sound like. Kokichi is a worse person than fucking Junko, because at least Junko forced her classmates and"

God you took so many words to say "you should be eaten and suffer for 17 days" who caressss about the history oh my god im bored to TEARS. Also at least Kokichi's plan worked, Shou Tucker is the shittiest alchemist in the series. I'm also not even sure if this method would work, i would simple manage to get loose, i am built different mithridates.

What did this dude even do im curious now, PFF LOOKING IT UP YOU DIDN'T EVEN GET THE DETAILS RIGHT BITCH WHERE'S MY HONEY AND MILK, ITS NOT EVEN A REAL BOAT IT'S HOLLOW LOGS, there's no even real proof this torture even existed god you're bad at this you might as well shut me in an iron maiden , also the guy killed a guy i guess, I don't actually care, but anyway you wouldn't even do it right I'd be fine

"sister into a killing game BECAUSE SHE GENUINELY LOVED THEM and killing them and making them suffer was a way to bring herself as much despair as possible. Kokichi, however, is just a sadist that enjoys everyone's suffering and doesn't even feel despair when others die. Everything he does is for his own amusement, not for ANY altruistic motive. He PURPOSELY drove Gonta to despair just to see him suffer. He made him kill Miu just so he would see Gonta's despair when he's exposed and executed for"

Did she end the world because she loved them? did she have her sister murder an entire middle school out of love? Did she pluck a guys eye out of love and make him eat it out of love? Did she have the entire student council massacred out of love? Junko deserves better don't drag her into this, she wants to be seen as evil and despairing stop woobifying her it's hurting her. Kokichi's motive was survival, and even if you disagree with that, he says multiple times and in his final words how he was lying to himself to survive. However, even if that WASNT TRUE or it was ALL A LIE his death count is once again two whole people, Maki got two people killed out of sadism as well but I don't see you yelling about her. Even if he was the most evil person ever, he again, only got TWO PEOPLE KILLED, that's NOTHING. Even if he was a sadist who only wanted to torment and hurt people, he ain't the mastermind, and he didn't get to actually do a lot of tormenting. Everything you are saying about Kokichi, is just Junko, and you seem to love her. Hypocrite.

"for killing her. He ENJOYED EVERY SINGLE MOMENT of Gonta's suffering and anguish. Kokichi's crying for Gonta was so obviously fake it is sickening. And don't mention the DRS. They flattened Genocide Jack and Tenko's characters into "bYaKuYa!!!111" and "fUk MaLeS!!!!111" and portrayed Junko, Monaca and Kokichi as almost normal people and not the monsters they actually are in canon. So don't even talk to me like this somehow proves that Kokichi would be friends with Gonta outside the killing game."

Buddy who even brought up Danganronpa S? Wasn't me, they don't even have many interactions in DRS, everything I'm talking about here is straight from the base game don't worry. Also Monaca is like 10. You have got to get better at formatting this it's so hard to follow. Even if Kokichi enjoyed all that suffering, Mikan is right there, having her kills actually be about despair, and yet you only focus on Kokichi like this is a unique sin, curious.

"You deserve to rot in the garbage, eaten by maggots. You don't deserve to be treated as a human being, to have human rights. You are a piece of garbage. You deserve to have your bones shattered and left to rot in a garbage container.You are an abuse apologist and a victim blamer.Kokichi just used Gonta as a tool because Gonta's nonexistent social skills, his low self esteem and desire to do ANYTHING to be useful, to finally be able to help his friends made him a perfect target for Kokichi."

I am at MOST an abuse apologist by your logic as I have never once said Gonta deserved to die, just that Gonta made his choice and even afterwards of getting caught he didn't regret it. It's not abuse though, it never was abuse, abuse is a PATTERN of behavior, one incident, two if you count the meet and greet, is not enough to set that pattern in stone. Especially when Gonta already got his revenge for the meet and greet.

While Gonta was the perfect target, it's not abuse, that's not what abuse is. Kokichi flashed Gonta with the light and told him his plan, while he definitely was manipulative, that's not abuse. You're just spouting buzzwords at this point. Also incredibly funny to call ME the abuse apologists when YOU'RE sending me graphic death threats, like buddy, I don't know how to tell you that you're the aggressor here

Kokichi never cared about Gonta.You deserve to die a slow, agonizing death by getting your guts pulled out. Everyone would be happy if you died. Everyone. Your father, your mother, your siblings, you are just a burden for them. They would be really happy if you died.

HA that's so fucking weak, you don't know me or my situation, you don't know my friends. Sorry you have friends who would disown you for shipping something they don't like, my friends enable and care about me. While my parents are incredibly patient and kind with me. Getting my guts pulled out is kinda erotic though can you do it tenderly for me? I mean not like I'd ask you, I know exactly which friend I'd go to if I wanted someone to hold my guts tenderly.

Gonta himself said that he doesn't trust Kokichi anymore after Chapter 2's events. Most likely, he doesn't even consider Kokichi his friend. I don't know where you the idea that they were "FRIENDS UWU" in any way. They weren't. Kokichi's tears for Gonta were clearly COMPLETELY FAKE, only meant to give his evil rant more impact to maake others believe that maybe he did care about Gonta after all only to make his reveal more painful. It very clearly ISN'T genuine in any way.

Boy howdy I love how things are up to interpretation in this series and how people can have rational discussions about how they perceive the same event. Just kidding, you're unhinged! Anyways you can not trust someone but also still care about them Gonta did not want Kokichi to die, Gonta cares about all of his classmates, Gonta cares. To assume otherwise goes against everything Gonta stands for. He's not a toddler, he can have nuance about people. He's a smarter lad then you give him credit for.

Gonta was groomed and manipulated into becoming a murder weapon. He's not to blame for Miu's death AT ALL. Gonta was manipulated. Manipulation isn't just forcing someone to do it with a threat. Kokichi wrongfully convinced him that it was for the better, taking advantage of Gonta's low self-esteem and desperation to help others. You've never been manipulated or abused in your life if you're saying Gonta could've just declined. It's not easy to just decline your abuser. Abusers can pressure you

Not what grooming means in the slightest but thanks for trying. You're just repeating yourself at this point, pathetic. Everyone was desperate that trial, what happened is a tragedy, but to deny Gonta any blame is to deny Gonta any agency he is not a helpless toddler. He is AWARE Kokichi is a liar, he is AWARE of what Kokichi does, and even if he is manipulated, he categorically does not regret as alter ego gonta, he's so sad it happened, but he still thinks its for the best they don't know the truth. Gonta agreed with Kokichi that there is no happy ending with the knowledge of the outside world.

And as for when Gonta says "Don't blame Kokichi anymore", you'd be a complete moron to trust GONTA in this situation. Gonta is THE LEAST VALID PERSON to trust in this case. Have you ever heard of Stockholm Syndrome? Many real-life cases of abuse have similar patterns of victims. While Stockholm syndrome is commonly associated with a hostage or kidnapping situation, it can apply to abusive relationships, when the abuse victim begins to express love for their abuser.

Stockholm Syndrome isn't fucking real, it's a fun trope, but it was not, and never was real. Please do research. It's basically the modern day hysterical woman, oh my god. Even if it was true, that's not how it is even theorized to work, the plan took place over like, less then an hour, that's not enough time for ANYTHING to set in. For what you're theorizing to even have a chance to be true they would have to be locked together in this scheme for DAYS. Please google fawn response as well, you'd have better luck making a point with that.

Gonta says to not blame Kokichi because Gonta knows he made his own choice, and would make it again, and most importantly, he wants everyone to GET ALONG. He doesn't want Kokichi to be hated, he wants everyone happy. This isn't him being "omg kokichi is so special rawrxD" its "im going to die, and all i ever wanted was everyone here happy, so please, don't hate each other"

And then I guess the spam filter or whatever stopped them from sending anymore because that's a weird place to end it. Anyways this was very cathartic for me and I may do a research paper on this in the future.

TLDR; we should like, have kids and see what they think of gonta and ouma that'd be fascinating

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