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#and its done to ppl in prison
shattered-pieces · 2 months
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Anyone who has seen how russia treats its prisoners isn't shocked at the treatment of the terror attack suspects. It's is a common pattern: torture someone then film their "confession". Similar things are done to Russian political prisoners, foreign nationals, Ukrainian prisoners of war, Ukrainian civilians..... with other variations, sometimes not filmed, sometimes even worse torture, sometimes sexual violence...
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lemongogo · 9 months
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every morning i tell myself i wont be late 2 work this time and then every morning i sit here like rhis w my breakfast reading trimax like the morning paper
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themyscirah · 6 months
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Amanda... I miss her.
But I don't trust a single person to write her other than Ostrander/Yale. Like I don't trust them to do it right. Because like it's easy to write her being shady and manipulative and involved in secret government conspiracies. That's what she does. But it feels so hollow once you've seen her character in the way Ostrander describes it. Like she is a woman who is desperate and trying to do what she thinks is right. She has found a place of power (as a fat Black woman in the 1980s) and is doing anything she can to fight and hold onto it as powerful and ambitious men try and steal it from her. So she doubles down. She doubles down on the shady deals and the broken promises and the violence and she destroys her enemies, and loses a part of her soul in the process. And then some other ambitious politician rises up and the process repeats itself over and over and over again as each time she loses more of her morality and more of her soul and more of the respect her colleagues had for her. In place of that she gains more power, she gains fear, and an even more badass reputation. Until by the end of the book the villains begin to understand/sympathize with her more than the heroes ever will. Like THAT is who Amanda Waller is. It may happen subtly, it may happen over a longer period of time but that descent is a critical part of her character! She is a tragic character! And I feel like every perception of Suicide Squad I've seen outside of the original has her as this static villainous snapshot which is just untrue to her core imo. Like she is not a hero. But she is also not JUST a villain. She is a highly flawed character who is always descending farther and farther into villainy as she is led there by what she believes is right.
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blackmagictrait · 10 months
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this isn't gonna win me any friends but I won't pay a dime to see movies made by/starring people who signed the petition to free convicted child rapist roman polanski, and that includes guillermo del toro and wes anderson. you can love their movies all you want but paying to see them puts money in the pocket of people who publicly support rapists going free. 🤷🏾‍♀️
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dizzybevvie · 8 months
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Illinois is a more likable character than Yancy by a MILE but you guys wont believe me bc Yancy has a musical number <\3
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lobotomyladylives · 5 months
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I stopped talking abt this both bc people were being sociopathic to me & also bc I was admittedly being so annoying/overdramatic abt it BUT I still can't get over how terminally online that post that was like "normal people don't do drugs btw only losers do drugs" like it's just so fucking funny at its core bc how far removed must you be from human society outside of your own room that you think it's abnormal to do drugs. easily half of the worlds population drinks alcohol or smokes/vapes nicotine, or both. not to mention the many countries who use kratom or kava or kanna regularly. legal recreational drugs are in fact drugs if the 17 yr old straightedge(lords) were wondering
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berah-ronah · 2 years
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honestly at this point im committed to stanning the blood of eden no matter what shit goes down in Nona and Alecto, and 90% of it is bc of the people ive seen who are hand-wringing and talking about how “WELL ACTUALLY, dont you know that BOTH SIDES ARE BAD in this conflict”
#like yes the boe has done some shit#and clearly has some not great ideological beliefs#but by basically ANY metric of comparison theyre better than the empire both in their degree of shittiness and the scale of the harm they ca#*scale of the harm they cause#and the reason why theyre framed as bad is intentional!! every narrator/pov character grew up in the Empire#they saw the empire at its best and the BOE at its worst!!!#of COURSE they would see the BOE on a range between ''evil'' and ''misguided rebels/terrorists''#like yes the BOE doesnt want to treat judiths pain bc shes a necromancer#which i cannot stress enough is bad#but do ppl really think the houses are taking prisoners to begin with? let alone treating them?#yes its bad that at least one group among the boe burns necromancers alive#but those SAME NECROMANCERS drain the life from their comrades in a specifically excruciating way#or turn their corpses into hand grenades#basically every glimpse weve seen of the BOE indicates that theres more ideological and moral variety than the nine houses#and the violence they inflict is specifically a response to the violent colonization and destruction of their homes#even the ''good'' ppl from the nine houses talk about ''peacefully integrating them'' bc it makes economic sense!!!!!#it just drives me crazy that so many ppl frame the empire/boe conflict as one with No Good Guys#where all you can do is just throw up your hands and condemn them both#ANYWAY ill calm down and stop rambling about fictional fantasy politics#the locked tomb
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s-4pphics · 1 year
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tag, you're it! (e.w.)
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ITS PRIDE MONTH PUSSSSSSYYYYYYY 
omg this is kindaaaa…. yeah
imma lil proud LOL hope y’all like it 
wc;cw: 14.2k, ceosdaughter!ellie, tagger/artist!oc, ANGST!!, mentions of depression and suicidal ideation, illness, parental death & brief mentions of funerals, descriptions of foster care/homeless shelters and poverty, both oc n ellie have daddy issues, MOMMY ISSUES!!, brief mentions of drug addiction(coke), homophobia DURING PRIDE MONTH🤨🤨, internalized homophobia and misogyny, ellie is a horny touch starved loser n kinda stalkerish?, mentions of criminal injustice(police, prisons, etc.) i hate it here, rich ppl being demons, SMUT!!!!! MDNI!!!!, light descriptions of masturbation, potential dubcon!!, sexual tension😟, bratty subbottom!ellie, mean domtop!oc she carries her dick on her like a glock lol, slight fearplay, KNIFE PLAY/BLOOD, DIRTY TALK, finger and strap sucking, fingering, pussy eating, MOMMY KINK!!, nipple play, squirting <333 n creaming <333, riding, reverse cowgirl, slapping(FACE!!! ass titties), hitting it from the bbbbback, loss of virginity, masochism LOL, a lil ass play LOL, pretty taboo themes catch it
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“She’s… I genuinely believe she’s deranged, your honor! She’s… uncontrollable! Look at what she’s done to our city! Civilians can see her tracks everywhere they go, and it’s disgusting! Not to mention she’s a pervert!” 
You rolled your eyes as you listened to the high-pitched, ongoing shrieks of one of the wealthiest women in the state as she spat belittlements of you to the judge. 
You were… fucked. 
You adjusted in your uncomfortable chair, leaning back and crossing your arms over your chest, turning your head to eye your lawyer, arching a brow at him as you waited for his defenses for you. He looked… scared shitless, to say the least. 
Yeah. You were definitely going to fucking jail. 
Were these pieces of shit really going to treat you like Satan himself for pulling a measly, little prank? Has April Fools truly lost all meaning?
A couple of days ago, on April 1st, you took it upon yourself to spray paint ♡GIRLDICK♡ across the largest building in the city, which just so happened to be owned by the Miller family, if anyone even bothered to call their cultist bond that. Their wealth swiftly accumulated when the now deceased founder of the organization, Joel Miller, discovered some new form of AI technology… or whatever the elders at the shelter told you. His death shook your city years ago; You weren’t sure why it was so moving for people, but R.I.P, you guess. 
You assumed they were just another group of elitist fuckers, but he must’ve been decent at the most; You still remember his memorial broadcasting on the small TV at the shelter as the other residents mourned in solace. 
Regardless, you hope all their institutions across the nation collapse one day, preferably with the rest of them inside. 
The broad in the black, silk suit kept pointing her finger at you, and it took everything in your spirit to not get up out of your seat and rip it clean off her hand and shove it down her throat. 
Not every tag you’ve done around the city has been rooted in “perversion”. There’s nothing perverse about… loving girldick. It’s a way of life!
Fuck security cameras. 
Unbeknownst to them, you’ve already been coined as a hidden talent in the city, at least according to some people you know at the shelter. You’re faceless in the eye of the public, but that separation doesn’t negate their appreciation for your artwork. You even went viral for the mural you painted of your father for his birthday two years ago, even though the fucker that posted it on Instagram hadn’t included your signature. You could bet millions of people have seen it by now, and you gained absolutely nothing from it. 
But, of course, your form of creative expression was being reduced to a jizzing penis. You've created countless mosaics around the city that represent the purest forms of love and sex, and now you are being blasted for being some sort of corrupt sicko. You only drew what came natural to you, and if people felt a way about it, they could choke on the fattest girldick known to humanity. You hate rich people.
Your father didn’t sacrifice everything he had to teach you the complexities of sketching for your name to be attached to outlines of dicks. You didn’t grow up watching your father skip meals so he could get you a new water paint set for your birthday every year for your art to be lawfully ridiculed. The only comfort this situation brought was that you knew he would’ve found the sloppily drawn cock hysterical. You still remember his laugh after all this time. 
You miss him dearly. You probably could’ve been just as rich, if not more, as the bitch at the other table if he was still here with you. He would’ve ensured you didn’t stray off into the life you live now. 
Being in foster care was the dissipation of your joy. You were considered a problem child very early on: fighting the caretakers when they tried to calm you, cursing at them, stealing, and nobody wanted to adopt you because of that, regardless of your talents. You were set up to fail too early, and you despised the world because of it. 
Your record was horrendous, and you were going to jail. You fucking hate rich people.
… Except the Miller's eldest daughter. She gets a pass. 
And she keeps staring at you. 
Every time you caught her sparkly eyes, she blushed and looked forward, her freckles surrounded by a deep red that rushed down her neck. She was dressed much less… sophisticated than her mother: her hair tied back in a low bun and littered with black bobby-pins, a dark-blue sweater, rings on her thumb, black pants, and clean Vanz. 
You knew a lesbian when you saw one. You could barely hide your knowing smirk. 
“My child doesn’t need to be exposed to such… nauseating ideologies! Think of the children of the city and what they’re forced to see because of vile people like that,” she pointed at you again. You were this fucking close to stabbing her with that pen in front of you. 
Your daughter’s gay, Mrs. Miller. 
“With all due respect, ma’am,” the judge started. What kind of backwards shit was this; Wasn’t she supposed to be respecting him? “It’s important that we stay on track. You’re specifically suing her for vandalism— “
“Ongoing, unchecked vandalism! This is not her first charge, your honor, it’s her seventh! She’s… she’s— “
You tried to tune her out, looking around the congested space of the courtroom, and you caught eyes—shiny, green eyes— on you. Again. 
She was fiddling with her hands in her lap, her teeth picking at the dry skin on her bottom lip. But she didn’t look away this time. You watched her eyes trail over your face, down to your jaw, your neck, your chest, only to come back up to your eyes. 
You did the same, taking in the dots on her soft cheeks, her eyes, her pretty nose, and mouth, looking her up and down, biting your lip, letting her know you were gauging her. She was cute, you had to admit. 
“—sentenced to three years in federal prison— “
You looked up in shock, feeling like your body had been dunked into a tub of ice water and left to die, instantly stiffening at the announcement of your sentence, the sound of the slamming gavel nearly putting you six feet under. 
You couldn’t do anything but stare at the judge in disbelief as he organized his papers emotionlessly, your lawyer putting his hand on your shoulder. You knocked it off and glared at him. You looked over to the table, the family already up and taking their leave, Mrs. Miller’s hand tightly enclosed around her daughter’s wrist as she dragged her out the wooden doors.
Two security guards were already walking towards you with cuffs, gripping your arms too roughly to pull you up out of your seat and latching the metal around your skin. You started to panic as they walked you towards another set of doors.
“Wait, wait, my backpack, I need my— “
“You aren’t allowed to have anything on you. Your property will be held by the court until further notice.” 
“But— “
“No buts, and don’t resist,” you felt the security grip your arm harder, and your anxiety peaked, your panting breaths hardly leaving your body.
You didn’t resist. You couldn’t. Your life was shattering around you in slow motion, loose shards slicing through you with intent to kill. 
You allowed the brawly men to drag you… anywhere. You didn’t care anymore; You were tired, and no longer had the urge to fight left in your heart. 
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Ellie was brought up in isolation. 
Homeschooled, no friends, no purpose outside of being the vessel to represent her family name, creating the next line of heirs for her father’s company. 
The benefits of his successes had simply… appeared when she was fifteen. 
She remembered how he went from being present, gave her the utmost attention, played sports with her, taught her how to sing and self-defense with his past down switchblade, to not, completely cut off from society as he barricaded himself in his study and worked relentlessly on new forms of technology. Being an only child brought nothing but loneliness for her after a while. 
But then they were rich. They moved to an affluent neighborhood and into a two-story house in a matter of months, driving Porches and buying out stores. Wealth appeared, but the relationship with her family suffered because of it. 
Her father fell ill, and after a multitude of hospital visits, teary farewells, and a memorial, he was gone. Merely a memory that hardly seemed real. Her and her mother’s relationship became even more unsteady after his passing. 
Ellie’s mother swiftly took over the company in an almost authoritarian way. She interacted with society in a robotic, rehearsed manner. Mechanical, soulless, the only proof of her humanity exposing itself when she snorted white powder. 
Her mother had brought up the idea of marriage the second she turned eighteen, a year before her father’s passing, saying that there were multiple well-off men that were eager to be with her, willing to give her children. Multiple. 
Men…. children… having children with men. Money. The empire. Her mother.
It all made her nauseous. 
… But art didn’t. 
She’d always kept her journals secret. Left in a box on the highest shelf of her walk-in closet where the maids couldn’t find them.
She expressed everything that she couldn’t to her mother on paper. Her depression, her insomnia, her desire for death, her mourning, the need for sex with non-men, any form of physical connection, something—anything that made her feel human, normal.
She needed a fucking hug. A kiss. Sex. She wanted to fuck.
The first time she saw your artwork on an abandoned building as she chauffeured to the museum, she’d nearly fainted. 
It’d been two women on top of each other, the most intimate parts of their body covered with the other’s hands and skin. One had her head between the other’s legs atop blankets and flowers as the other… apparently in the middle of an orgasm. Her mother always made the point of sex sound so… stiff. Lifeless. Merely a factor of procreation.
But your art was so erotic. Sensual. So full of pleasure and softness and care. 
She’d almost jumped out of the car and onto oncoming traffic to get a closer look at every detail, but the car was too quick. She couldn’t even get a fucking picture. 
And she was soaking. How the fuck was she going to explore a museum when she was dripping like this?! 
You’d given her one of the strongest orgasms she’d ever had in her life when she returned home that day, and she didn’t even know who you were. She’d spent hours with her hand between her legs as she thought of your creation while her mother was out working, moaning and crying out as loud as she wanted, and she wasn’t even embarrassed. 
She would sneak out in the darkest clothes she had when her mother passed out on the couch, and just walk. Specifically in search for anything with your signature that she’d memorized like it was her own. She’d taken pictures of your content, memorized them, got off to the suggestive ones in secret, and appreciated your love and passion for your craft. 
She’d even started recreating her own depictions of eroticism. All with women. They never looked the same: different heights, all skin tones and body types, anything that she could think of, she drew it. She’d tried to envision what you looked like after only a few weeks, and she prayed her envisions were at least somewhat accurate. 
She never could draw self-portraits with precision, but she knew it was her. She was always in the middle of the raunchiness that she conjured up in her mind, being touched everywhere, tied up, beaten, completely ripped apart and forced to forget the suffocating world around her. Her reimagining's of herself would be drowned in pleasure, sometimes by you, by herself, by faceless strangers. Anything she wanted. 
When she saw you for the first time, she almost couldn’t control herself. 
She’d felt like a fucking creep as she ducked behind parked cars to watch you paint all over an abandoned freight train behind a trashed building. The streets had been silent as she watched you decorate the metal cart in floral interpretations of pussy, her heart in her throat. 
You looked gorgeous and focused and tired. So, so tired, only in sweats and a tank top with a hefty bag strapped to your back. She assumed you kept your art supplies in there.
Ellie couldn’t keep her eyes off you when she’d seen you during your court hearing. 
You were just as gorgeous as the first time she saw you, but, somehow, even more exhausted. Far away, not really present, but she couldn’t blame you. And she couldn’t stop staring, enthralled by you. Even in your grayest moments, you made her feel vibrant. And that brought her guilt.
But it also made her lustful. Hungry. 
And she couldn’t stop staring. 
When her mother dragged her out of the hearing, she was enraged, even more so when she degraded you on the way back to the car. 
You fucking stared at that whore the whole time!
Don’t ever, in your life, embarrass me again. 
I’ll throw you in the gutter with that rat if you ever disrespect me like you just did in there. Do you understand?
Ellie didn’t even know what she did to garner a response this aggressive, but she was used to it. And, for the first time in her life, she didn’t care. She didn’t give a fuck. 
At that moment, she knew what she had to do.
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It was your fifth day in prison, and you felt nothing. 
You didn’t cry, you didn’t plead, you simply succumbed to your destiny in silence. Your father would be so disappointed if he were alive. 
I raised a fighter, so you fucking fight!
But you couldn’t. You were tired, and you wished you could stay asleep, never to wake up again.
You’ve been working like a dog since you got here, and you accepted it. This was your life, and you felt nothing. 
Until your cell unlocked. These fuckers were probably here to shit talk you again. 
They cuffed your wrists and led you somewhere. You didn’t care where, keeping your head down as they encased your arms in a calloused grasp. You hoped this location would be your last forever. 
They led you into an empty room and uncuffed you. You saw the old sweatsuit that you’d received from the shelter, and your heartbeat sped up. You looked at the security in confusion. What the fuck were they doing? What were they about to do?
You could barely hear what the officers were saying, jumbled words of bail bond and cash payments molding together and sounding like a foreign language to you. They undid your handcuffs and pointed towards the clothes, murmuring for you to change so they could transport you back to the courthouse to retrieve your belongings. 
What the fuck is going on?
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When you returned to the shelter, you inspected your bag. After nearly scrubbing your skin off while showering. 
The contents were all in their original condition, each individual item wrapped in plastic with small notes attached to them. Except for your dick. You assumed the court had no comments. 
Your paint, your brushes, random hairpins, your notebooks. They were all there in their original condition. Thank god. 
What you didn’t expect to see was a new jacket, sweatsuit, and small note wrapped in the same plastic from inspection. 
You ripped the plastic open and retrieved the note, unfolding it and… confusion, arousal, and fear rushed through you, shocking your body as all your feelings shot down your spine. 
It was a sketch of… you. And a girl bent over with her hands bound behind her back as you fucked her. An… incredibly familiar looking girl. 
A freckled girl. A rosy-cheeked girl. The rosy-cheeked girl from a week ago with the psychotic, sadistic mother.
Her expression in the sketch was pure ecstasy. It looked like she was screaming, her cheeks shaded dark with water-paint and her hair a reddish-brown, thrown in all sorts of directions. Her eyes wild and erotic. Yearning. Teary. Her pleasure seemed dream-like.
And you looked just as gone. Head tossed back, sweaty with your dick shoved inside her pussy, your nails digging into the soft skin on her hips, small, but deep, bloody scratches following the painful glide of your fingertips that make the red blotches on her backside. There were small doodles of strap-ons and pussies smudged, erased, fixed to perfection that seemed almost manic. Obsessive. 
You looked at the bottom of the crumpled piece of paper, a small signature across the bottom of it. 
♡GIRLDICK♡
Come back home. Five days.
E.M.
… Come back home? You don’t have a fucking home. And who the fuck is E.M? Your heart was beating against your chest, climbing up your throat in an attempt to escape your body entirely. You couldn’t stop your eyes from flying across the sloppy penmanship. 
… ♡GIRLDICK♡
E.M.
M. 
♡GIRLDICK♡
M.
… Miller Enterprise. 
Miller. 
… Freckles. 
…. What in the fuck. 
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It was almost dark, and you were shivering as the wind blew past you. 
It had been five days. 
You were eyeing the large building in front of you from across the street, a giant M slapped across the top of it, windows galore, hoodie on your head and trembling hands shoved in your pockets. 
You could see the last bit of employees trickling out of the building, clad in suits and tight pencil skirts, heavy briefcases and clicking heels. 
You could also see the fresh white and black paint covering where your spray-painted dick used to be, and it made you chuckle to yourself. You were almost tempted to recreate it with your new snagged bottle of acrylic. It supposedly glowed in the dark. 
But then you saw a dark shadow in the corner of your eye, hurriedly moving past the glass of the entrance. 
Your heart raced instantly at the thought of being discovered, and you followed the body's movement. You could see it was Ellie the closer she got to the glass, dressed in a black sweater and comfortable pants, and her same shoes from the court hearing. She looked antsy, a bit on edge, but curious. She was anticipating seeing you. 
You could see her messing with the keypad on the door, the loud sounds of locks clicking over the bustling streets. Flashes of red, swiftly replaced with flashes of green shined through the maxi-glass, and she looked around at all the doors. What was she checking for?
She seemed satisfied with her job, and she slid the entry door open, leaving it slightly ajar so she could slip something between it. 
She gave one last glance at the system before bolting back inside and down the lengthy hallway before all the hall lights shut off. 
Did she… did she just disable all the alarms for you? 
Now, you were the one anticipating meeting her. 
You ran across the street the second you got a chance, hurdling through traffic before running up onto the sidewalk and treading the stairs. 
You looked down and noticed two pens taped together, holding the door open. You picked them up and inspected them, a glossy, silver M near the gel tip. 
You stepped inside before anyone noticed, the door automatically shutting behind you before the same green lights came on, a robotic voice confirming that the doors were locked.
You were inside the Miller Enterprise, and you were terrified.
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Ellie was so nervous. 
She’d been checking her Chanel watch all day, obsessively monitoring the windows to see if anyone that resembled your form had arrived, but she was disappointed every time she looked. No sign of you, yet.
The later it got, the more anxious she became. Did you see the note she left in your bag? Was it too forward? Did you think she was fucking crazy? Did you hate her for what her mother did? She prayed not. 
She was currently pacing around her mother’s—father’s—dark office, every step of her shoes echoing in the nearly empty room. She hasn’t been in here since she was seventeen, and it brought just as much anxiety as it did the first time. 
This will all be yours when I’m gone, don’t fucking ruin it. 
She hated everything about this space. Every aspect of her dad was completely gone. All his pictures, his vinyl, his pens and pencils, his nameplate. Everything. All of it, completely void of emotion. 
She hated it, she hated it. 
But then she heard a clang in the hallway, and her anxiety picked up even more before she could process it. 
She quickly made her way over to the exit, peeking her head through the doorframe and examining the hallway, searching for you. The noise had to be you! You really came! She could feel her nipples getting hard already.
But she saw no one. No one was in the dark hallway. 
… Fuck.
Why did she shut the system off? The lights wouldn’t come on!
Her hands instantly got clammy, her heart racing, and her knees shook. She hadn't felt like this since she was a kid, and she was horrified.
Someone’s here to hurt you, someone’s going to come in and hurt you!
You never leave doors unlocked! He always said to lock your doors, never, never, never—
She couldn’t stop the intrusive thoughts from taking over her entire body, reaching into her pocket and pulling out her father’s switchblade, pressing its latch down to expose the blade. She slammed the door shut and walked over to the large window and tried to steady her breathing. She looked out of the glass and inhaled harshly. 
Keep your grip tight when you strike! 
Calm down calm down calm down—
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“Boo.” 
You saw Ellie jump with a hard gasp before spinning to face you, a fearful look on her face and her switchblade in hand, pointed edge towards you. 
You could see her chest rise up and down with every shaky breath she took, her body trembling and cheeks flushed. You felt like your body was going to burst into flames, but you hid it, grinning slyly at her as you stepped forward. 
Deep breath. 
“Hi, Ellie.”
Another step forward. She took two back, nearly pressed against the glass. 
“Y-You,” she stuttered as her eyes darted around nervously, and you could see her cheeks flushing in the darkness, “How’d you get in here?” 
“I think you know how.” 
You shrugged, the contents of your bag shuffling on your back. You pointed towards the large, stretched windows behind her that oversaw the entire city, the hustling streets and lights beaming into the dimly lit room from the last bits of sunset. 
“View’s incredible,” your mockery littered in sarcasm. Don’t let her know you’re scared. 
She took a bold step forward as her brows furrowed, anger twisting on her doll-like face. You took two, as well. You saw her eyes dart to your feet before meeting your gaze to hiss at you.
“There’re cameras on every floor of this fucking building! I press that button,” She darted her small knife towards the enclosed, red button on the side of the wall, a large print of EMERGENCIES ONLY directly above it. “And every cop in this city’ll show up and take your ass back to the fucking gutter where you’re supposed to be.” 
… How the fuck was she going to threaten you when she told you to come here?! What was she playing at?
She pointed her weapon back at you. You ignored your confusion and raised an impressed brow before walking forward without pause, pulling her mother’s chair out from under the desk, the wheels squeaking against the marbled tile. You saw the grip she had on her knife tighten. 
You smiled at her. “You’re pretty good with a knife, honey.” 
“Fuck you. Don’t fucking call me that.”
“I dunno,” you scoffed, twirling on your heels as you took in the luxurious space around you. “I can bet my bottom ass dollar that you like it.” 
Her glare hardened, and your smile brightened. You finally moved to sit in the chair, the plush leather molding against your body and stuffed backpack. You scooted back under the desk and rested your elbows on the hand-carved rosewood, completely calm. At least outwardly. Your insides were jittery from adrenaline. 
You quickly inspected the contents of the desk: her mother’s matching rosewood nameplate, some loose paperwork with large sums of money scattered on them, dark pens and markers, and a signed restraining order. With your name on it. 
You’re apparently not allowed a hundred feet within the perimeter of the building. 
… Funny. 
“Press it.” 
Her scowl hardened, “What?” 
You pointed a lax finger towards the button as you looked up from the document, “I said press it. You want me gone so bad, right?” 
She didn’t reply, her fingers fidgeting around the knife as she adjusted her grip. Her eyes nervously flitted across the room, all over the white floors, back on you. 
“You’re not gonna press the fucking button.” You spat with a devilish smile. “And I know why.” 
“Fuck you, you don’t know sh— “
“You paid my bail.” 
You heard her release a shaky exhale when you sliced through her words, her eyes widening in shock like she saw through you, and you knew you had her. Your smile widened as your nails pattered where you tapped on the desk. 
“Uh huh. Why’d you do it?” 
Her throat moved as she swallowed, and you almost laughed. 
You reached into your jacket pocket and pulled out the piece of paper that kept you company in your small cot during your restless nights, unfolding it and holding up the explicit depiction that she left in your bag days ago. You pressed her as you swung the chair with your foot, “Think somebody’s got a little crush. Mommy’s gonna be so upset with you.” 
“FUCK YOU!” She marched towards you until she was in front of the desk, her scent enclosing around you before you felt the incredibly sharp blade against the side of your neck, and you stiffened in terror. You looked at her in shock, studying her expression. She looked pissed, but you saw… something in her eyes that made your core squeeze tight. 
It was vulgar, needy, and you hoped she missed your body’s excited shudder at her crude rage. 
She didn’t. Curiosity shone behind her lust and fiery, her enraged shrieks shook your eardrums. 
“You’re fucking worthless! You really think anyone’s gonna care about you rotting in a fucking cell?! You’re… you’re nothing! You’re a low life! You’re… you’re! —“
You deadened your own eyes as you slowly moved to stand, but she pressed the knife deeper into your skin as she leaned over the desk, your faces closer together. You stiffened and felt a sting on your skin, and a drop of wetness. Your pussy squeezed, and you could feel sweat looking under your jacket. 
“Gonna kill me, Ellie?” You glared at her, your heart pounding with fear and exhilaration. 
Say you want me. Say it, sayitsayitsayit!
Her eyes were vengeful as she scanned your face, but you saw that glint grow behind the harsh overcast. Something you craved just as badly as she did. 
“Really want mommy to see her precious girl killing somebody on camera? Hm?” 
“She,” her breath shuddered. “wouldn’t give a fuck if it were you, I promise.” 
You barely whispered your reply as you leaned even closer, your nipples hardening under your sports bra and your underwear clinging to your wetness. 
“Then do it.”
The heavy breaths she released hit your face in a burning wind, and your core tightened once more. You could see the aggression on her face slowly dissipate, that giddy sparkle in her eye overtaking her pupils as they darkened. 
You felt the cold steel pull away from you slowly, her hand coming down on the desk, — unfortunate— and it threw you into action.
Your hand flew up to her throat and squeezed the sides, and you heard the clatter of the object as it hit the wood. You heard her suck in a choked breath as her eyes glossed over, suddenly desperate and wanton and scared like you’d been seconds before. She looked like a neglected kitten, and it made you hold her neck in tighter constriction. 
She whimpered aloud as she attempted to gasp, her hand coming up to grab your wrist, but you snatched it away with your free hand, and it limply dropped to the desk, her body submitting. 
You leaned in closer to her, and her eyes squeezed shut, lips puckered, silently begging for you to kiss her. You snickered. 
You let her neck go and slammed your palm across her blushing cheek, a loud crack! filling the room. 
She cried aloud, looking like she was about to burst into tears as she jumped off the desk and backed away from you, her hand pressed against her searing cheek. You rose to your feet and circled around the desk, rushing towards her until she was pressed up against the window. Tears were running down her face. You shoved her closer against the glass, grabbing her cheeks to force her to look at you. 
“You’ve been watching me, haven’t you? I got a little fan, is that it?” 
“N-No— “
“Yeah, I do. Fuckin’ stalker. Probably gotta whole shrine t’me in your fucking room. Does mommy know that you worship me? The lowlife who fucked up her building?” You snapped at her.
She flinched at your tone before she choked out a gasped sob, “I j-just liked what you m-made.”
“Stop crying, Ellie.”
She nodded as she sniffled, wiping the tears off her cheeks. You grasp loosened on her cheeks as you cupped her face, your thumb brushing away the wetness on her already bruising skin. You noticed how she leaned into your caress. It made your heart jolt.
“Look at me,” you whispered. 
She hesitantly met your eyes. 
“You wanna kiss me?”
She looked down at her shuffling feet, and you saw her fist clench. 
“Answer me.” 
“Y-Yes, wanna kiss. Just… just one?”
You hummed in satisfaction, inching closer towards her like you did previously. She stiffened but shut her eyes tightly, her plush lips poking out in a pucker once more as your noses touched. You chuckled and whispered, your lips brushing against hers as you spoke. 
“You ever kissed anyone, baby?”
She sighed out an uneven nuh uh, her mouth chasing yours. You grinned wider.
“Oh? M’gonna be your first kiss?” 
She whined out a needy uh huuuh! 
You stuck your tongue out, slowly running the wet muscle over her lower lip, and you felt her whole body tremble against yours. She brainlessly stuck her tongue out to lick yours, but you pulled back. She tried to follow you, but you yanked her head back by the small bun at the back of her head, the soft strands curling around your fist. 
She let out a moan, and your tongue licked up her exposed throat, leaving a trail of spit up her chin, all the way to her mouth. 
You relented and connected your mouths, and she let out a shocked noise into your mouth. You slipped your tongue in her gaping mouth, wet, smacking noises filling the room as you kissed her hotly. She couldn’t keep up with your quick movements, her lips and tongue moving sloppily against yours. Her spit was all over the outside of your mouth. 
You felt her hands come up to your hips to grip your jacket in a tight fist as she moaned into your mouth. 
The noises she let out were so sweet: little, excited gasps and whiny keens as she tried to pull you closer. 
You released her hair and grabbed her chin to move her head to the side. You kissed down her neck, and she jerked against you. Her breaths increased in pace as you pecked her sweaty skin, lapping your tongue all over the side.
You sucked into the skin under her ear, right under her jaw, pulling her sweater down to mark her collarbone. 
“Pleeease, pleaseplease, ah— “
You mumbled in between gentle sucks, “What, Ellie? Talk.” 
You felt her hands grab your hips tighter, but she said nothing. You pushed her hands off you roughly and looked at her with piercing eyes. She shrunk into herself when she met them. 
“When I tell you to do something, you do it. You understand?” 
She nodded quickly. 
“So fucking talk,” you gritted out. 
“Want,” she whispered with a sharp gasp. “Want you.” 
You smirked, “You want me?”
“Mmhm!”
You shoved your backpack off your shoulders, the thud echoing when it hit the floor. 
“Want me to do what?”
She paused before looking down at her feet again, twiddling and picking at her fingers as her face burned red. 
“Um…” 
You rolled your eyes and turned away from her, but you felt her hand grab your wrist and you stopped. You looked at her in annoyance. 
She looked at you tentatively, her breathing shaky. 
But then she slowly brought your hand in between her legs. 
She shivered as she placed her hand on top of yours, making you rub her cunt back and forth. She released pleased sighs as her lashes fluttered, her head falling back against the window as she looked at you up and down. 
“P-Please?” She licked her lips. “Wan’you here.”
You scoffed in shock, and her thighs squeezed down on both your hands. You pressed your palm closer against her, and her hips bucked into you. 
You moved closer to her, your clothed chests pressed together. 
“Move your hand,” you spoke quietly, just for her to hear even though you were alone.
She dropped it limply. You pressed your palm into her covered clit, and she moaned. 
You leaned in, your lips brushing her cheek as you spoke.
“Baby just wanted her pussy touched? That’s why you acted out earlier?”
She didn’t speak as she panted heavily. You brought your hand up to slap her cheek again, and she released a pained cry as her hips twitched. 
“Talk!”
“Yes! Needa… need t’be touched!”
“Tell me where.” You brought your hand back down to her pussy as fresh tears slid down her cheeks. 
She sobbed. “A-Anywhere!”
You leered at her soft face. “Yeah? I get t’choose?” 
She nodded quickly, her eyes screaming touch me, please! Make me cum!
“Open your mouth, honey. Stick your tongue out.”
She mewled softly, but did what you asked, her shiny, pink muscle glistening under the beaming city lights. 
You brought your hand up, rubbing your index and middle finger on her soft tongue. 
“Get ‘em wet.”
She hummed as she sucked them into her mouth with no hesitation. You felt her tongue messily swirl around your digits as she sighed contently, and you pressed an encouraging peck on her cheek. 
You slowly fucked your fingers in, pulling them out, only to push them back in again. You almost awwed aloud when she chased your digits every time you pulled out. She was already drooling for them. 
You pressed her tongue down as you fucked in, and she gagged on them. Her eyes shot open and they instantly watered, her throat tightening around you. 
“Bet you suck a mean dick,” you muttered before you could stop yourself. 
She moaned loudly as you fucked deeper into her mouth, pressing down on the back of her tongue. 
“Oh, yeah? Want mine down that pretty throat?”
She garbled and nodded as much as she could with your fast thrusts in her mouth. You couldn’t wait to fuck it open. 
“Snooped through my shit, didn’t you? Saw my fucking cock and creamed yourself? That’s why you bought me new shit?”
You saw her bring a hand down to touch her pussy, her hips bucking into her own hand, chasing any stimulation. You grabbed her wrist and pulled it away from her. 
You finally eased up on her throat and pulled out completely, lines of slobber connecting your fingers and her mouth together. You cut them with your own tongue, her spit clinging to the edges of your mouth. 
You planted a smacking kiss on her lips before you shoved your hand down her dark, flared pants and into her boxers. 
She squealed when you immediately found her clit with your spit covered fingers, the slippery bud sliding between your already drippy fingers. You watched her hand fly to the white windowsill for balance as your hand went wild on her cunt. 
“Such a wet fucking pussy. Feels good, baby?”
Her brows creased as she nodded, her body rocking with your movements. “A-Ah! —“ 
“Uh huh. You touch yourself like this when mommy’s at work? Hm?”
Her head shamefully jerked in confirmation. You could see her now: her pretty legs spread on her plush bed, her sopping pussy squeezing at the thought of you fucking her just how she needed. She’d be grabbing at her tits as she flicked her clit, desperate to cum all over her blankets for you. Your pussy was so wet. 
“You think about me when you do it?” You knew the answer, but you needed her to say it. Confirm that she thought about you just as much as you thought about her. 
“Yes! Yes, yes!”
“Fucking whore, no wonder she hates your guts.”
She moaned louder at your degradation. “S’c—coming! “
Your fingers were practically vibrating on her cunt, her clit thumping as her orgasm built. “Get my fingers nice’n sloppy, angel, c’mon— “
She reached down to grab your wrist as she jumped on your fingers, but before you could slap her, her body tensed, and her eyes rolled into her skull. You felt her clit pulsate under your touch, and you knew she was cumming.
“Fuckmemommy!”
You couldn’t stop the shock that appeared on your face as you watched her thrash on your hand, gasping out, asking you to please fuck me, mommy! Need you to fuck me!
You just massaged her through it, pressing your hips up against hers so she couldn’t run from your touch. 
“Wan’mommy to fuck you, angel?” you mumbled in your daze as your pussy dripped, your brain barely registering what you just said.
“Yespleasepleaseplease, gimme— “
“Fuck, baby, need mommy inside you?” Your heart was pounding in your ears. 
“M-Mhhm!—“
“Gimme your leg,” You lifted it up with your free hand, bringing it up so it came around your waist.
You slid your fingers down to her twitchy entrance and slipped the tip of your pointer finger inside. You almost moaned at how her walls clung to you, sucking you in deeper, milking you.
“Tightest fuckin’ pussy,” you mumbled to her, and she whimpered when your finger arched inside her. You prodded around until she slumped against you, pushing her hips down on your finger. You leaned in, your lips brushing her ear as you cooed right there? yeah? feels fuckin’ good?
She couldn’t even speak. She just plopped her head onto your shoulder and sloppily kissed your neck. Your cunt clenched and you flinched when her soft tongue licked into the small slit she made earlier. You heard her hum as her tongue swiped a line from your collarbone to your cut; She was licking your blood up like a fucking dog!
It made you punch that spot in her harder, and she cried out against your skin, her nails digging into your forearm. 
You slowly pushed your middle finger in, and she sobbed as she stretched around you. You arched your thumb out to rub her clit as you poked that spongy spot in her pussy; She was so loud for you. 
“Like when I touch you there?” 
“I like it, like it s’much!” You felt her nodding mindlessly against you.
“Gonna cum on me again?” you spat at her. 
“Fuck yes!” 
“Know you’re gonna cum hard, can’t even fuck you like I wanna, squeezing me so tight.”
You dug your fingers as deep and fast into her as her cunt would allow. Her walls were choking the fuck out of you, practically screaming for them to stay where you were pressed inside her. How the fuck was she going to take you fully?!
The thought of breaking her open made you shake, “Gonna make this pussy take me. Can’t wait t’give you this fucking dick.”
Then she started screaming out for you, trying to get you closer, wrapping her arms around you, her leg dropping onto the floor. “Ohgodohgodohgod, m’cumming, mommy, I’mcu—AH!”
You almost fell back when she went limp on you, her knees buckling as her slick coated your fingers, your palm, her panties. You used your weight to push her back against the window, her head thudding against the glass like before, but she seemed too engulfed in her desire to care. You almost brought your hand up to comfort her sore spot, anyway, but you stopped yourself. 
You took her in: practically dangling off you as she wailed from orgasm, her face beat red, the bun at the back of her head almost loose, her eyelids fluttering. You sneered at her, a nasty grin on your face. 
“Atta girl, so excited for cock, ain’t she?”
She could only grind out yesyesyes between her teeth, her fingers still squeezing down on you as you rubbed her clit, her orgasm slowing down. 
“You gotta make me cum first, m’kay?” 
“W’na make… mommy cum!” she nodded like a bobblehead as she slurred. 
“Yeah? Want mommy’s cum in your mouth?”
She wept desperately, “Yes, please, need it!”
You grinned, catching a glimpse of your desperate reflection in the mirror. You’re so glad she was too fucked out to notice.
“C’mon, honey.” 
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Ellie stood in front of you as you sat in her mother’s chair, her shoes kicked off. 
Your bag was tossed next to you as you stared at her, noting her fidgeting stance. She wasn’t looking at you, at all. She was looking down, specifically at your occupied hands. 
You’d picked up her discarded knife from the table, inspecting its rusty, scratched design, slightly bloody blade, retraction. You couldn’t stop fiddling with it. 
“W-What’re gonna do with that?” You heard her ask. 
You ignored it. “Where’d you get it?”
“It was my dad’s.” Her voice went sharp. 
“What kinda father lets his baby play with such sharp objects?” You said in between sarcastic snickers. 
“He’s fucking dead, who cares.” 
You finally looked up at her sharp tone, examining her tense face, and your playful smile slowly dropped. She tried to appear as if mentioning it didn’t bother her, but you recognized that look in her eye from anywhere. Grief fucking sucks, no matter how much time passed.
“… Hm.” 
You looked down at the blade again, then back up at her, “He taught you how to… handle it?” 
She shrugged, her brows raising as her arms crossed over her chest. You nodded. 
Your arm was suddenly incredibly itchy. “Mine taught me how to… draw n’stuff.” 
You looked off to the side awkwardly as you reminisced on the first pack of colored pencils he’d bought you. You remembered how particular he was about the art utensils and their conditions. You didn’t realize that he was trying to ensure their quality because he couldn’t afford another pack until you got older.
Always make sure these bastards are sharpened! That’s true precision!
“… Cool,” you heard her say, and you looked at her, “Were you guys, uh, close?” 
“Mhm,” You nodded stiffly, and silence surrounded the two of you. Ellie awkwardly nodded as she stared at the floor, and your lips twitched before you turned to stare out the window.
Some time passed in pure silence before you heard her speak. 
“… Still wanna, uh… D’you still wanna fuck?” 
You looked at her as she fumblingly scratched the back of her head. Her eyes met yours as her ears burned. You grinned as your shoulders rose.
“Up to you.” 
“Like… I still wanna if you do,” She nibbled on her bottom lip. 
You leaned back in her mom’s seat. 
“Ellie.” 
The deep tone of your voice made her look up, her eyes shining like crystals as her arms dropped to her sides. 
“Yes?” 
“… C’mere.” 
She moved, her sock-covered feet padding on the floor until she was in front of you. 
You looked up at her, your hand coming up to play with the hem of her sweater. 
You spoke softly, “Off. C’mon.” 
She grabbed the back of her top and lifted it over her head, her bare chest jiggling with her movements. She tossed the fabric to the floor. 
You eyed her chest like you were going to swallow her whole, her perky nipples urging you to reach out and pull on them. Her pussy is so fucking sensitive; Were her nipples just as bad? Worse? Could she cum just from you touching them? Fuck, she probably could—
“Are they… Do you like them?” 
Her soft whisper cut through your gawking. You met her eyes through your lashes as she squirmed in front of you. 
Your hands came up to grab her hips, massaging them gently. 
“Yeah, baby. They’re so pretty, fit you perfectly.” 
She sighed in content, “T-Thank you.” 
You planted a soft kiss to her tummy as you looked at your thumb around the elastic of her pants to pull them down. 
Her stomach jerked with every sharp breath as your lips moved on her bare skin. You felt her hand come up to your shoulder to grasp it as she stepped out of her pants. 
Your hands traveled upward to grab both her tits in a rough squeeze. She wheezed and arched her back so you could get closer. You heard her murmur a quiet fuckme, and you looked up. She was watching your every move with wide, curious eyes. You held her gaze as you licked up her torso, and she whimpered. 
You brought your hands back down to grab the back of her thighs, moving her closer to your lap. She placed her hands on your shoulders as she climbed on top of you, and you sucked her nipple into your mouth. 
She grinded down onto you and moaned, and your eyes fluttered shut. Your tongue made circular movements on the pert bud, and you hummed at the taste of her soft skin. Her head fell forward as she gasped right in your ear, and it made you suck on her hard. 
Her hips were jerking on top of you, trying to fuck down onto your clothed thigh as her nails plunged into your back. 
“Feels so… mmh!”
You brought your hand back up to her other tit and played with her nipple with your fingers. 
And then you slapped it. Hard. 
She let out a sharp squeak and mindlessly bounced on top of your leg; You could feel a slight dampness building on your jeans, and you scoffed at her, sneering when you pulled away. You hit her other tit just as hard, your spit transferring onto your palm. 
“Ah! Fuckfuckfu— “
Smack!
“Yes!”
SMACK!
She squealed. “M’gonna cum!”
You reached up to slap her face before pulling her hair to the side with a tight fist. 
You quickly grabbed her switchblade off the desk and unlatched the blade, the sharp edge popping up. You instantly pressed it to her neck, and she choked on a ragged pant. 
The lust in her eyes was accompanied by fear, and you grinned. 
“Don’t get scared now. You were waving it around earlier. So ready to fight, huh?” 
She shuddered, rutting down on your leg again, and you pressed the sharp edge into her skin harder. Her eyes shut tight, and two fat tears fell down her cheeks. She nearly bounced on you. 
“I could fuck you up right here, you know that, right?” 
“Please, mommy, needa cu—!”
You moved the knife away and released her hair, slapping her in the face again. “Shut the fuck up, you nearly slit my fuckin’ throat and now you wanna fuck. I should leave right now, fucking brat.”
She sobbed, “Nonono, please don’t leave, mommy don’t go, m’sorryI’m— “
“Mommy, don’t go!” you mocked. “Get on your fuckin’ knees.” 
You kept the blade pressed against her jugular as she clumsily shuffled to the floor, her cries shaking her body. 
“You wanna apologize?” She nodded jerkily, minding the silver edge on her vein.
“Yeah? Wanna make mommy feel better?” You said with a mean pout. 
“Mhm!”
You sloppily kicked your boots off and shoved them under the desk. 
“Take m’pants off, baby. C’mon.”
She moved quickly, unbuttoning and tugging your jeans and underwear down your legs as she sniffled. She yanked them off with a hard tug, and her eagerness made you giggle as you lifted your hips. You unzipped your jacket and pulled it off your shoulders, tossing it to the floor, leaving you in your black tank top. You could’ve sworn you saw a glimpse of a grin on her face as she eyed your breasts before she dived towards your cunt. 
You shoved the knife closer against her, and you saw blood pool at the edge of the blade. She looked up at you with an anxious expression. 
“I didn’t say you could touch me. Ask nicely.” 
She looked confused as she mumbled brokenly, “Ask you what?”
Your brows furrowed at her, “My mistake. You probably never had to ask for shit in your life.” 
Her bruised cheeks glowed red as she looked down in embarrassment. 
You grinned slyly. “Say, mommy, may I eat your pussy, please?” 
Shock overtook her expression before she rolled her eyes at you and looked to the side.
“You’re fucking cra— “
You yanked her dark hair back and pointed the end of the blade against her bruised jaw. Her ragged breaths hit your face.
“Say it.” 
“Y-You're not gonna hurt me,” she stated unsteadily. 
“You don’t know shit about me, and even if I did hurt you, you’d want it. Admit it.” 
She avoided your gaze and her lips quivered. 
You continued. “You’d let me do anything I want because you’re disgusting. A filthy fucking slut with a silver spoon in her mouth.”
You huffed at her with a frown. “And you like girls. You’d be just as worthless as I am in her eyes if she found out.” 
You nodded over to her mother’s nameplate, and her eyes shut like she was a child getting scolded for stealing candy at the store. 
“I’m right, baby? You don’t want a husband? Don’t wanna get bred for the empire like she wants?”
She shamefully shook her head as tears fell down her face. You didn’t even know if she was in that circumstance or not, but by her reaction, it seemed to cut her deep. You ignored the searing pain in your chest.
“Mhm, so,” you turned her head so she could look at you, her red eyes burning through yours. “Something you wanna ask me?” 
Her mouth dropped open in submission.
“M-Mommy, may I… May I eat your pussy, please?” 
You smiled in satisfaction, placing a gentle kiss on her wet forehead. 
“Yes, baby, you may.” 
You pulled the knife away from her and set it on the desk, grabbing her chin to plant a kiss to her mouth. She whined happily into yours. 
You pulled back and adjusted your position, leaning back with your legs spread, the underside of your knees hooked into the armrests of the seat, your cunt on full display for her. Your sopping pussy was right next to her face, and you saw her eyes flutter in delight. 
“Want me t’show you how?” 
She nodded intensely. 
You brushed away the flyaway hairs on her forehead, your hand planted on the back of her head. 
“Spit on my clit, babe. Get it nice n’wet.” 
She released a glob of spit right onto your pulsing bud,
and you sighed as it dribbled down to your hole. You tilted her head back, remnants of slobber collecting on her chin. You gathered spit in your mouth and pulled her lower lip down, her mouth falling open. You spat onto her tongue, and she moaned, tilting her head down to spit it out all over your pussy. You bit your lip so hard; you almost drew blood.
You reached down and spread your lips, your throbbing clit poking through. You could see her trembling as she eyed you. 
“Wanna taste, Ellie?”
“Yeah, please, mommy,” she choked out. 
“Lick me, then, honey.” 
She wasted no time, the tip of her tongue circling around the nub instantly. Your mouth fell open at the sensation. The pink muscle was so soft, the licks slow and gentle, barely there. 
“Doing so good, baby, take your time,” you sighed out. 
She keened at your praise; her lashes flitted like butterfly wings in Spring as she rubbed your clit in deep licks. 
“Fuck, Ellie, s’so sensitive,” she whined against you, eyes begging for your approval as she watched your expression. You caressed her burning cheek with your pointer finger, and she licked deeper.
“Fuck, baby, that’s it, making me so happy,” her eyes rolled shut as she tongued you, sliding her tongue all over your pussy in slow strokes. 
You moaned out every time she came up to lap at your clit. You guided her head down to your hole, and her tongue slipped inside, slurping up all your slick. You were gasping her name out as her tongue wiggled inside you, swirling all over your walls. 
“Such a good girl, fuck, El!” you groaned out as wet sounds filled the room. “Wanna make mommy cum?”
She hummed excitedly and nodded, her tongue moving back up to massage your clit. You tightened her grip on her head, forcing it to move back and forth her hums shaking your clit. 
She moved her head faster against you when she sucked your clit into her mouth, and your head fell back against the chair as your eyes rolled back. Your thighs were shaking, toes curled as you squealed out encouragement. You needed to cum, she was going to make you cum!
“Get me there, pretty, m’— gonna make me fuckin’ cum— “
“Wan’mommy’s cum, please?” she sloppily murmured against you. 
“Gonna get it, baby, m’right there! —“
She was fully moaning all over your clit, “Gonna fuck you so good, angel, fuck yes!”
You peeled your eyes open and looked back down at her when she released your clit to moan aloud. Her drool and your pussy juice were all over her pink lips as she sighed and whimpered in pleasure. You couldn’t see what she was doing, but her forearm was moving frantically as quiet shhlcks filled the room. 
“Ellie.”
“Mommym’gonnacum— “
“I swear to g— “
“S’so wet, oh god, please!” 
SMACK!
Her head flew onto your thigh at your hard slap to her face, and she screamed out as her body tensed up. You watched her with a scowl as she squealed out m’cummimgsohardmommy against your skin, a puddle of drool forming on your skin. 
You yanked her hand out of her boxers, and she whined in protest as her orgasmed died, her hips bucking back into the air. You stood up, pulling her up by her waist and bending her over the desk, holding her down by her neck. 
“Stop fucking with me, Ellie.” You pulled her boxers down under her ass, taking in the sight of her still pulsating cunt and her twitchy ass. 
She spat at you over her shoulder, “Or wha— “
SMACK!
She groaned out in pain against the wood when your hand connected with her asscheek in a fiery slap, your hand burning. 
“Motherfuc— “
SMACK! 
You hit her and hit her. And hit her again. And again. Until she was jerking away from you, her hips bucking against the desk and your handprints covering her ass in a cherry-red tint. 
You don’t even remember how many times you slapped her, but she was sobbing out apologies against the desk, asking for your forgiveness over her tears.
“You done fucking around?” Your hand felt like it was in flames when you dropped it on the desk.
“Yesyes, mommy, I won’t—sob— won’t fuck up again!” 
“I was actually gonna eat your pussy out,” you scoffed out nastily, and she only cried harder at the insinuation that you weren’t anymore. “You don’t want that, you don’t want me fucking nice.” 
You pulled away and walked towards your discarded
bag on the floor, digging through it and pulling your dick out, stepping into and adjusting the straps as you watched her bruised ass jiggle with each wail. 
Your dick stood up as you walked back over to her. You gave her one last hard slap on her marked ass and pulled her up by her arm, shoving her onto her knees in front of you so she was trapped between you and the desk. 
You could see her wiping away tears, but you grabbed her chin, forcing her to look up at you. 
“You want dick so bad? Get it wet so I can fuck you.” 
Shock appeared on her face.
“Y-You’re gonna fuck me with that?” You watched her inspect the size of you. The length, the girth, all the ridges. Her breathing got heavier the longer she stared.
“Now you’re fucking scared, really, Ellie?”
“I’m not sca— “
“Talk back again, and I’m leaving. You’re getting on my fucking nerves.” 
She glared at you, but looked down, straight at your tip, then back at you. 
And then she spit on it, a fat glob of saliva dribbling down the sides of your cock. Her hand came up to wrap around the base, rubbing her spit into the silicone. She held eye contact with you as she stuck her tongue out. You reached down and placed your hand on top of hers, slapping your tip on her slobbery muscle. 
“Good fucking whore, good n’sloppy,” you let go to pat her still-red cheek with a heavy hand, and her pretty eyes hardened, her blush deepening. She dropped her mouth open, her lips curling on the tip as she sucked on it. You bit your lip as you watched her tongue swirl around you.
She moaned around the silicone, her eyes filthy. Her hand spread her spit up all over you as she took in your inches slowly, jerking you off and slobbering on you at the same time. She looked like a fucking pornstar, like she practiced for this, like she wanted to impress you, and you shook like you could actually feel her mouth. Your pussy was desperate to cum, but you pushed it aside and watched her. 
She released you with a wet pop, her tongue flicking around your tip like she was lapping at your cum, and you couldn’t stop the moan that left your mouth. 
“Nasty slut, goddamn— “
She smiled like you just called her the prettiest girl in the world before sucking you back in, her head bobbing up and down as she slurped you up. There was so much spit on your length that it started dripping onto the floor.
You bucked forward, your hips moving on autopilot, and she choked on you, her hand coming up to your thigh to squeeze it. You ignored her grasp and fucked into her mouth harder, pinning both her arms above her head on the desk. She gargled around your dick, and you could only imagine the tightness of her throat with each gag. 
“What, baby? Don’t like it? Want me t’stop?” You gritted out. And you thrusted deeper. She moaned and her mouth opened wider.
She was making wet noises around you, her head thudding against the top drawer of the desk when you fucked in. You fucked your entire cock down her throat, and she gagged hard. 
You pulled out and let her go.
She fell forward and coughed hard, her drool pooling down on the eggshell floors as she choked. You watched in irritation as she heaved.
“Get up,” her gasps slowed as she breathed in deeply, and she lifted her head to glare at you from her hunched position. 
“Get up.” 
“Fuck you,” she spluttered.
“I’m gonna. Get up.”
Despite her bitterness, she slowly stood and instantly bent over the desk with her scarred ass poked out towards you. You chuckled when you saw both her holes pulse in excitement.
“That’s how it is?” you slapped her asscheek, and her hips bucked back against your hand. 
“Uh huh,” you heard her crackly mumble dazedly. “Need you t’make me cum.”
“Seemed alright doing it yourself a few minutes ago.”
She ignored you, and you smirked, “Need your cock, mommy, pleeease, please— “
You reached out, running two fingers over her drenched slit, and she pressed back on them as she sighed in pleasure. You slowly slid your fingers down to her clit, and she moaned aloud, her thighs jerking. 
“Look at this fucking pussy, jesus.” 
“I-It’s pretty?”
“Yeah, baby, fuck,” your mouth watered when you saw her walls clench. “Can’t even be mad, you’re so fucking hot.”
“Then fuck me,” she whined out sweetly, looking at you over her shoulder. 
You leaned down until you were eye level with her pussy, her walls squelching and squeezing repeatedly. You bit your lip and kitty-licked her cunt, her slick painting your taste buds as her smell surrounded you, and she jumped at the feeling. 
“Taste like fucking honey.” 
“So do you, made me so wet,” she exhaled as she shivered in anticipation. 
“S’gonna hurt,” you whispered, more to yourself as you eyed her tightness. 
“Don’t care.” She pushed back on your face.
“Put your hands behind your back. Don’t move them.” 
She shuddered and obeyed instantly, her hands overlapping at the wrists at the small of her back. 
You pressed one last kiss to her pussy before standing upright, “You move your hands, I stop.”
“Not gonna move, mommy,” she whispered in between unsteady breaths. “Make me feel good, please. Please, please.”
“Shh. Got you, baby. Open your legs,” you caressed her back and she squirmed. You felt goosebumps rise all over her skin, and you smirked.
The gap between her thighs widened even more for you, her cunt on full display. You could hear her beckoning you to pop the tip inside her in tiny, desperate whispers, and it made your core clench. 
You inched closer to her until the back of her thighs pressed against the front of yours. You wrapped a hand around your wet dick and brought it up to her slit, soaking it in her gooey slick and sliding it between her silky lips. Her cunt was already soaking your entire length and you didn’t even fuck her yet. She was subtly pushing back on you, trying to get you inside her. 
You heard the enthusiasm in her voice when she keened, “Mommy, please, it’s right there!”
“Mhm, I know, I see it,” you mumbled wetly, her gooey cunt looked so pretty under the light of the city, shining like glitter.
“Making mommy so wet baby, such a pretty girl,” you brought your cock back up to her slit and pushed forward, slowly popping the tip in her snug opening. She squealed loudly, and you saw her fists clench at the end of her spine as her walls clung to you, pulling you in.
“Yesyesyes, oh god, mommy, fuck, uh huh!”
“Yeah, baby? It hurts?” 
“Nooo, feels s’good, oh shit! —“
You slowly pushed in another inch, gauging her reaction for any discomfort, your thumb moving on her hip softly. She tried to push back to take you deeper, but you held her hips down.
“Fuck mefuckmefuckme— “
“Gonna be my good girl, baby? Gonna take it nice’n deep?” 
“Yeah, mommy!”
You pushed in even deeper, and you could feel the resistance of her cunt the more you slid in. You couldn’t stop the moan you released when she said your name. 
“Y-You’re splitting me open, ffuck— “
You pressed in the last bit of your dick, her ass resting at the top of your thighs, your hands propping you up on the desk as you leaned above her, placed on either side of her head. She was sighing heavily in satisfaction, and you could see her glossy eyes rolling. 
“Feelin’ good?”
She nodded slowly, “U-Use me, mommy, please use me t’cum, fuck.”
“Gotta take care of my girl first,” you fucked out of her slowly before snapping your hips, fucking all your inches back into her, and she screamed. “Such a tight pussy.”
You bent down to kiss her pretty back, down her spine as you stroked her deeply. You’d barely completed your fourth stroke before you felt Ellie tense up under you, her body shuddering as she moaned quietly to herself. You snickered at her. 
“Baby’s cumming?” you licked up her spine again. 
You could only see her nod in jerky headshakes from where you stood, her cheek pressed against the desk. You looked down at where you were connected, and you could see how her walls struggled to choke your dick. You grabbed her wrists in one hand and fucked her through her orgasm, your free hand sneaking under her hips to rub her clit. 
The second her body relaxed, you saw the muscles in her back flex again, the arch in her back deepening, “Mommy, think—m’cumming again, oh god, motherfu— “
“How many are you gonna give me, angel?” you rubbed her clit faster, fucking in harder. 
“I feel it, I feel it, fuck!” She wasn’t listening to anything you were saying as she yelled in her pleasure. You could see how much she was wetting your cock, lines of her slick forming every time you pulled out of her. You angled your hips downward when you fucked back in, and she shouted your name out, her warnings of her orgasm echoing in your ears. You released her clit and pinned her down by her neck again. 
“Like it right there, baby? That’s the spot?” You could feel your core squeezing with every cry she let out, her voice completely broken, her squeals scratchy. 
She was babbling about something, but you weren’t listening, the squelchy sounds of her cunt increasing in volumes as you forced your dick in her, stirring her guts up. 
You looked down and saw her ass squeezing with every quiver of her cunt, and you licked your lips. You let her wrists go and brought a hand to your mouth, sucking your thumb in to wet it before rubbing her ass with it. 
She let out a loud slew of ah ah ahs before you felt a burst of wetness on your thighs, dripping down onto the floor. Her entire body was jerking back onto your, her rosy ass jiggling every time she hit your hips. 
But then you heard a slam above her shouts of pleasure and mommy!
You looked up to check on her unsteady form as she continued to drench your lap, her hand resting on the back of her mother’s nameplate, her fingertips digging into the wood as she screamed in her euphoria. 
It made you fuck her harder and pull her hand away from the dog tag. You didn’t even care about punishing her anymore, you needed to cum. You’d been riding that edge since you got here, and you knew you were going to cum so hard.
You leaned over her body and grinded into her, moving her hand away from the plate and sitting back up in its position. You grabbed her by her spit-coated chin so she could look dead at her mother’s name. She whimpered and tried to look away from it, but you tightened the grip on her face to keep her still. 
“Look at it, baby— “
She sobbed, murmuring how hard she was about to cum again, her eyes fluttering as she stared at it, her cheeks glowing like apples.
You bent down to her ear, “You embarrassed, angel? Huh? Wanna close your eyes? Gonna squirt on me again?”
She was looking dead at the plate, “You’re so deep, mommy, fuck yes, m’gonna!—“
“Nasty fucking slut, taking it so good,” You looked up at the clear window as your thrusts picked up pace again, the entire city shining through the glass in all its glory. Every light of every building, people roaming, honking, noises of construction. It was all beneath you, and it was all theirs. The strap was bumping on your clit with each thrust. 
“Look at your city, baby,” you lifted her weightless head by her wild, knotted hair and made her look into the distance as you groaned in pleasure. “Gonna be all yours one day, can do whatever you want with it soon.”
“Fuuuck— “
“Uh huh, you like having that power? You can get whatever the fuck you want— “
“M-Mommy!”
“Just need a baby, right? Gonna g-give her what she wants? Gonna give her that precious heir, that golden child?”
“Yesyesyes! Wan’your baby, ge’me fucking pregnant!”
You moaned at her begging as you babbled mindlessly to her, “Gonna cum in you, fuck, need it… t’catch— “
She was screaming about how your seed was going to catch in her womb, how hard she was going to squirt again, begging you to fuck her harder, hurt her, make her bleed, make her scream. You could feel your senses leaving as your orgasm built as she pushed back on you, and you moaned her name in her ear. 
“Fuuuck, Ellie,” your clit jerked, and you let her go, her head falling onto her arm in front of her as she yelled in euphoria. “Gonna make that bitch raise my fuckin’ kid while I’m gone? Huh?”
She didn’t even react to your slip of your departure, “Yeahyesyesyes! Fuck, I’m cumming!”
You felt another spray of liquid drip down your legs as you drilled her, and it triggered your own orgasm. Your clit jerked as your release rushed through you, your walls clenching as your body shook on top of hers, grinding against her to ride it out. You could almost feel the sensation of filling her up, her cunt sucking your cum deep inside her. 
She was still moaning above you, wringing the last bits of her orgasm out on your cock. You whined against her sweaty skin, the aftershocks moving through you. 
You felt her go completely lax underneath you, heavy sighs leaving her parted lips. 
You both caught your breaths in soothing silence. 
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After Ellie asked you to show her how to kiss properly, the pounding of your heart refused to slow down. 
You were seated in her mother’s chair once more, her wetness still coating you in stickiness as she straddled your lap, her arms around your neck as she gazed at you nervously.
“We just fucked, why do you look like that?”
Her brows creased, “Like what?”
“Like you’re scared.”
“I’m not scared,” she whispered, her eyes flickering down to your lips before looking back up at you. 
You only hummed at her, brushing your noses together before leaning forward, grabbing the back of her neck to pull her down to you. Her eyes shut tightly, and her lips puckered in front of yours, and you pulled back, grabbing her face to stop her.
“Stop doing that, just relax.” 
“… What’d I do?”
You mimicked her, poking your lips out stiffly before breaking out into a grin. She huffed with a tiny smile, shaking her head, “Sorry.”
You shrugged, uncaring. She looked down, “Where do I put my tongue?” 
You snorted, “Nowhere yet.”
You craned your neck up slowly and connected your mouth with hers gently, your lips molding against hers. She sighed and leaned closer into you, her arms tightening around the back of your neck. You felt a sharp sting in your chest at her delicate touch, and you pulled away. A soft smack filled the room when you separated. She smiled softly, “That was cute.” 
You nodded stiffly, murmuring a mhm, before looking down. Out the window. Behind her. Anywhere but her eyes. 
You felt her nuzzle against your cheek, kissing it gently, “Are we… uh, fucking again?” 
“You want to?” The pounding in your ears was giving you a headache. 
You felt her nod. Another kiss to your cheek. Another pull in your heart. 
Your hands planted on her hips, lifting them so she could sit on you, but she grabbed your wrists to stop you. 
Her hands latched onto the hem of your shirt, attempting to pull it up and over your head, but your hand caught her wrist. Not harshly, but stern.
Her eyes softened at your masked expression, releasing the gentle grip on your shirt, “I’m, uh… I’m sorr— “
“It’s fine. Ready?” you grabbed the base of your dick in your hand, and she mumbled a quiet yes. 
You felt her hand come on top of yours as she helped you guide it to her entrance, and your breath shook as you exhaled.
Her hips came down on you at her own pace, your free hand resting on her hip. She gasped when it slipped inside, her hands coming to support herself on each armrest. 
“Feels different like this,” she whispered huskily.
You smirked, “I know, take your time.” 
She nodded, slowly sinking down on you. You saw her eyelids get heavy as her walls caught on every ridge of you, her head falling back in her pleasure. Her soft locks disheveled all over her head, her bun nonexistent as her bobby pins stuck out from every direction. 
She slid in too deep, though. She let out a pained gasp as she caught herself on the chair, her brows furrowing. 
“Okay?” you checked in.
She nodded, her lip in between her teeth, “So deep like this, fuck… don’t know if I can go all the way down.”
“It’s fine, babe, make yourself feel good.” 
“H-Help me?” her breathing was picking up as her hips bucked. 
Your other hand flew to her hips, digging into her soft skin as you guided her hips on you. You eased her into a deep grind, and her hands flew behind you, landing on the headrest behind you. 
Her head rested in the crook of your neck as she followed your movements, her wet moans hitting the side of your neck. The sensation of her breath on your skin made your pussy clench. 
“Am I—gasp—doing good, m-mommy?” 
“Fucking me so good, baby, shit,” you whispered in her ear, and she moaned aloud in yours. She sped up on you, the harness digging into your clit with each swivel of her hips. 
Your hands moved down to grab her ass, spreading her cheeks before slapping them, grabbing the plush of them in your hands. She fucked you harder, and you felt her spit drip on your neck as she wailed into your skin. You threw your head back on the headrest when she sucked on your neck, right on your open scar.
She lifted her head up and looked at you with gentle eyes, her hands moving down from the headrest to grab your cheeks in a soft touch. She was panting on your mouth, her lips brushing against yours with every jump on you. She was so close and she smelled so good, her lips soft. 
She whispered dreamily, “Can’t stop cumming— “
Your eyelids fluttered, “Then don’t. Give it to me, m’so close— “
She grinded harder as she leaned down to connect your lips in a honey-sweet kiss. You reciprocated against your brain's desires. 
Push her away. She’ll never be yours! This is all she wants from you!
Tears built in your eyes as your peak approached, her moans increasing in urgency against your mouth. You sucked on her bottom lip, biting it hard. This is the most eager you’ve felt since you touched her. 
“Cum with me, pleasepleaseplease— “
“I’m gonna, baby, fuck me hard!”
She was going crazy on your dick, full-on bouncing on you, taking it all despite her protests earlier, and you felt yourself tipping. Your pussy squeezed and soaked the harness as your orgasm pulled in your gut. You looked down at your cock, and it was drenched in her white, sticky substance. She was creaming all over your cock as she used you. It made your eyes cross in your skull as your euphoria hit you. 
You were so loud as your nails tore into her skin, your moans matching hers in volume. You felt another splash of fluid on you, and you came harder, another wave crashing through you. You would’ve curled in on yourself if she wasn’t on top of you. 
You felt her tongue slide into your hungry mouth, swirling around yours as you shouted through your high. She was making you feel so good, and you couldn’t fucking think. 
You felt like you were cumming for minutes before the harsh pulses slowed into soft twitches, her hips slowing, and she bent down to kiss you. The touch was soft, sweet, undeserved. You stiffened, on guard immediately. 
She was close, she was too close. Her soft caresses on your face snapped you out of your intoxication, pulling away from her mouth and grabbing her hips to pull her off your dick. 
“T-Turn around, Ellie.”
“Huh?” she asked softly, her eyes teary and delicate. 
“T-Turn around,” your voice trembled.
“O-Okay.”
She was too fucking close. 
She lifted off you, planting her feet on the ground and you spun her. You pulled her down on your lap, her ass in front of your cock. You grabbed your tip, pushing it past her entrance, and she mewled. She took it with ease, mewling out as her back arched into you, swallowing you whole as she sunk down again. 
She planted her hands on your knees and immediately bounced on you, her toned ass meeting the base of your harness with every jump on your cock. 
You could see her pussy suck on your inches, suffocating your girth, her walls clinging to you. 
You grabbed her neck and pushed her forward slightly, and she cried out in painful pleasure. You planted your feet on the floor and fucked up into her. 
“Fuck! Your dick feels so fucking good! Oh my—agh!”
You saw even move cream spread over your dick with every fuck inside her squishy walls. You were moaning with her, fucking her harder, faster, the hand on her neck moving up to pull her hair hard. The sound of wet skin slapping accompanied the sounds you both made in your pleasured state. 
You were going to cum so fucking quick, “Fuck, Ellie, shit— “
“I’m gonna cum so hard, mommy!” your hand in her hair flew down to her hip, grinding her down harder on you. You moaned at the feeling.
“Yeah? Already?” You were right behind her, those euphoric waves pulling in your gut.
“Fuck—fuckyes!”
“Want it so bad, get it all over this fucking dick, baby— “
Her hand that'd been playing with her tits flew down on top of yours on her waist, her fingers lacing with yours tightly as she shouted, screaming your name. She met your harsh thrusts as she bounced, and she squirted on you again, and you watched it gush out of her, wetting your stomach and harness and the chair beneath her, the sound of splattering liquid on the floor making you cum the hardest you ever had. Your vision whitened as your orgasm crushed you. 
She kept cumming on you, and you kept cumming for her. The pleasure didn’t stop, and all you could do was scream her name out like she did yours, hold her hand tighter as your brain melted. She rocked back and forth on you, prolonging your orgasm, making you cum harder. It just kept building in intensity, the aggressive pulses wracking through you, your toes curling as she milked you, and all you could do was take it.
You blacked out in her mom’s chair, the last thing you remember seeing was her pulsing, squirting pussy, pulsing ass, and the auburn stars that painted her entire back. 
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Some time passed, your lashes fluttering open as you felt soft touches on your face. 
You were met with delicate, green eyes, Ellie looking at you with a softness you hadn’t seen in years. It felt foreign, deep, and it made your heart pick up in panic. 
You pulled away from her touches and looked around unsteadily. 
She was too close. Too fucking close.
The office was a mess: clothes everywhere, the floor was soaked, the whole room smelled like sex and pussy, desk askew, its contents thrown everywhere, Ellie’s tears and puddles of spit all over the surface. You could even see splatters of… her on her mother’s restraining order against you. 
You were suddenly terrified, moving into action and guiding her off your lap so you could stand. You undid the straps of your dick and stepped out of it, cringing at the drying stickiness, and throwing it into your backpack.
You heard her speak from behind you, “Hey, hey, you okay? What’s wr— ‘
“Nothing’s wrong, I’m fine, I gotta go,” you said tensely. Unwelcoming. Guarded.
“Did… did I do something?” She sounded too soft, too gentle. 
“No, Ellie, I just, I gotta go,” You dressed erratically, pulling your underwear up and jeans on, wincing at your cum sticking to your garments. 
You could hear the crack in her voice, “Can I… do you need help or— “
“Ellie, I’m fucking fine. I’m fine, okay? Forget it.” You spat over your shoulder as you repacked. Don’t look at her, don’t fucking look at her. 
She sounded just as anxious as you did, “W-Why are you so upset with me all of a sudden? What’d I do— “
“You didn't do shit! Can you fucking drop it please!”
Her breath shuddered, “I thought… I thought we were… okay?” 
You whipped around to face her, an incredulous look on your face. Your heart shattered when she flinched, but you yelled at her anyway. Why the hell did you look at her?
“Why the fuck would we be okay?! Did you forget how we fucking met in the first place!” You pointed behind her to the soiled court order, “We’re never going to be fucking okay! Get that through your fucking head.” 
You reached down to grab your heavy bag, throwing it over your shoulder in a hurry. You felt like you were going to suffocate. You needed to go. Right now. You turned towards the door. You hadn’t even shut it all the way when you came in. 
“I’m never going to see you again, am I?” 
Your own tears fell at the dejected acceptance in her voice. She sounded so broken, and it was all your fault. 
But you knew this was for the best. The two of you could never exist together in bliss, even though meeting her was the most human you’ve felt since you were a child. Since your father was alive. 
But you were too different, too damaged. All you would do is hurt each other, you would resent each other, grow to hate, to regret. The world was too cruel, and she was not prepared for its harshness. You were barely prepared, and you lived it every day. And you promised yourself to never go through the despair of loss again. You walked towards the door and heard her release a quiet sob. 
“No,” you pulled the knob, the spacious hallway being another reminder that you didn’t belong. Not here, not anywhere. Her mother was right. 
You were worthless. Held no value in this society. 
In another life, you could’ve been something great. Your cards could’ve been different, better. You could’ve made your father proud. The two of you could’ve been happy.
“You won’t.” 
You left the same way you came, moving in urgency before her sobs lured you back to take her in your arms, against your will. 
Maybe in another life. 
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hi lol OOOOOOWEEEEE 
this was heavy sorry gworlies i love sad shit 
don’t hate me too much? 
omg tell me what y’all thought or whatever *looks away shyly 
thank u 4 reading if u did :3
hi taglist love yall @cherriessxinthespring @ellieswifee @elliespookie @belovednanami @sevikasimp @saturnsellie
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1K notes · View notes
ravel-puzzlewell · 7 months
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can we talk about shadowheart tho. her writing absolutely baffles me. like. when she admits she's shar's cleric, she gives u a speech about how shar is misunderstood and that like she's all about exposing bad ppl, toppling corrupt governments, using shady methods to get shit done, etc.
cool, so she believes that shar achieves good goals, so like. to me it seemed that her arc would be about realizing how it's not true, becoming disillusioned in shar, cue good old thats me in the corner losing my religion etc etc
and it just never happens? like we see a lot of evil shit shar has done all over the place and shadowheart never questions it, never even tries to rationalize the answers to keep her faith, its like she just doesn't care. and we as a player can't confront her either, we can't say shadowheart do you think shar successfully utilized girlpower when she cursed entire region with radioactive shadows and split it's spirit in half? instead we find like. shar's torture device secret chamber and shadowheart goes awww i wanna be a dark justiciar so baaaaaad
and then. then at culmination, at scene where she's deciding to kill aasimar or not, you can't give her arguments. you can't be like look at everything that shar has done all over this place, do you still believe this is for greater good? what greater good can justify this? what higher purpose is there in senselessly killing a prisoner again and again?
no you can only say like. you can't allow your goddess to control you! what do you meeean. like??? this isn't how faith works. clerics supposed to like. BELIEVE in the same things their god does. so far shadowheart was pro-everything shar-related she saw. she's like. enthusiastically into it. even if she's brainwashed, she still very much WANTED to be dark justiciar. and now it's all - oh, its shar "controlling" her. like. Shadowheart even said that shar's head nun or whatever told her that she isn't ready to become dark justiciar. This is very much shadowheart's own initiative. Why is it framed around like listening to yourself, instead of changing BELIEFS?
and THEN. after she doesn't kill. aasimar says. "Don't you find it oh so curious you would spurn your Dark lady? Perhaps you feel a stirring of the truth already" and then later reveal that shadowheart was like. selunite kidnapped by shar ppl. and this is why she didn't kill aasimar. WHICH??
like apparently shadowheart is the first to show mercy in a century not because she had a chance to live outside of cult for a while, meet and befriend new people and broaden her worldview, realizing her cults doctrine is false. no no no. she did it bc she's just INHERENTELY a good person. she just like. had intrusive thoughts urging her to be good. she just needed listen to herself. bc she's actually a selunite and not sharran. and like, all other dark justiciar apparently are just inherently evil and it was never possible for them to choose not to kill.
like how do you take a perfectly serviceable narrative about cult member escaping brainwashing due to being able to socialize outsife of her cult and instead make it about Selunite essentialism.
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soulcandi · 1 month
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𝐩𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐲 | 𝐛𝐥𝐮𝐞 𝐣𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬
synopsis: on your fifth day at the lennox house, blue jones called you his puppy. and to the amusement of everyone else trapped inside this glittering hellhole, it stuck. it stuck like glue.
warnings: written with afab!reader in mind, fluff, heavy petting, mentions of sex, no explicit smut (yet), pet-play-ish, puppy!girl vibes, mentions of human trafficking (blue literally owns you), mentions of drug use, you smoke a cigarette at some point.
a/n: i actually published this on ao3 like...a long time ago, but i feel bad not posting anything here and also I'm re-watching this movie (sucker punch 2011) and it slaps so hard and i need to pressure you ppl into watching it too. go go go.
word count: 2,932
blue playlist, anyone?
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Blue loosened his tie and listened for his office door to click shut behind him. He could feel the black makeup melting underneath his tired eyes that were still swimming from the two whiskies he downed at dinner with his potential client; the very same client he ended up losing by the end of the night. To top off that great show of success,  he also had to fire one of his best men for trying to tamper with one of the dancers. She was new enough not to understand one of the most obvious rules at Lennox:
No one fucks with the merchandise without paying for it.
He would even go as far as to say they might have been a cute couple. If only one of them wasn’t lying in a ditch somewhere off the highway with a hole blasted through their skull.
While Lennox was just a front for his real business —the arms dealing, the coke smuggling, the gambling, all the fun stuff— taking care of his girls was often the most taxing part of Blue’s day. But he was sure that someone else could handle breaking up a few petty girl fights and settling disputes between dancers for a few hours. He was a promised man from now until sunrise. 
He felt the weight of his day slip off of his shoulders as he slinked into the apartment. Being near you always had that effect on him. It was addictive. 
Of all the girls that made up Lennox House, your name came the easiest to him. He nearly gave in when Sweet Pea started calling you Crybaby during your first week. And he had to give it to her, it was a fitting title at the time. But by the third day when you came to terms with your situation and those beautiful wet doe eyes finally dried up, you only ever pointed them at Blue.
You clung to him like he was your lifeline in an ocean of fierce eyeliner and suffocating hairspray fumes. And to make matters worse, he let you. He was the only one who didn’t glare as you walked through the dance studio, but he sure as hell wasn’t smiling either. Unassuming? Maybe. Bored? Absolutely. But bored was the closest thing you’d gotten in the way of kindness since you were booted through the front door. It didn’t occur to you that you should be afraid of the man who not only bought you from your family but who kept you hostage in that dark, lonely place for days on end. 
It didn’t take long for boredom to melt into mild curiosity, which soon took the shape of vivid fascination. His thoughts were consumed by the girl desperately eager to earn her place amongst his best dancers, who didn’t know it but somehow got anything she wanted from the few girls who took pity on her. 
His pride forbade him from immediately giving in to your gentle begging and pleading looks. He wanted to spoil you rotten from the very beginning. You had a natural talent for getting what you wanted and you would have done numbers on his clientele. It was a shame he could never bear to share you with his customers. 
On your fifth day at Lennox, Blue Jones called you his puppy. And to the amusement of everyone else trapped inside this glittering hellhole of a prison, it stuck. Like glue. 
“Puppy?” he called expectantly, a relaxed smile already making its way up to his lips as he loosened his tie an extra inch. The space was everything he could have ever needed —his office, bedroom, and living quarters— all without ever having to leave the building. He’d arranged for CJ to have you delivered there while he finished up his schmoozing, but you weren’t in your usual spot at the foot of the bed when he passed through the entryway.
Blue’s smile instantly tightened into a silent snarl, his eyes flickering around the small, warmly lit room. Evidence of your presence only lingered from the countless nights he had called you there for his own selfish reasons. Your perfume spun through the air in faded ribbons and his eyes fluttered shut as he savored the scent that seemed to follow you everywhere around this dirty place. 
If you weren’t sitting there waiting for him, at least he knew you’d been there recently. There was at least some comfort in the image of you planted on your knees, pouting as you watched the clock mounted on the wall opposite of his desk, watching the minutes tick away into restless hours. 
God, Blue knew he didn’t deserve you. He told himself that every time he came home like this just to sink against your warm, pliant body. He didn’t deserve you. But lord knew he needed you. 
A soft noise drew his attention to the bathroom door, held slightly ajar by a mound of thin fabric that Blue immediately recognized as the costume you’d been wearing in the theater that night. He memorized the look on his potential client’s face when you bounced into the room with a tray of tequila shots balanced carefully in your hands. 
“Close your mouth, hotshot,” he’d wanted to say, but there’s no fun in calling off the dogs before they start wagging their tails. “She’s spoken for.” 
Blue pushed the bathroom door inwards with the back of his knuckle. The hot steam fanned his tired face and he bit back a desperate whine even before he ever saw you hidden there amongst a towering array of bubbles. 
“Who said you could take a bath without me?”
He didn’t mean to startle you, but he certainly wouldn’t apologize for that delicious panicked expression on your face either. You were a shy little thing. A little less than a month at Lennox still hadn’t beaten that out of you. Blue had seen all sorts of girls in all sorts of states of undress, but you did something special to him. He had yet to decide if this was something to be wary of. 
Your back had been to the door when he first entered. Blood rushed to your face and you moved to cover yourself with a small pile of bubbles that you’d accumulated as Blue swaggered closer to the tub, eyes shamelessly drinking in every inch of you that he could see. You felt caught, avoiding his gaze like the black plague. 
He played with you too much. One of these days you were going to bite back and he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t looking forward to it. Setting his glass on the edge of the claw-footed tub, Blue kicked off his leather shoes and made a show of jutting his throat so his cigarette wouldn’t mar the red silk tie as he pulled it up over his head. “Just teasing, precious. Make room.”
The heat of embarrassment never left your face and you could only stare down at the iridescent bubbles as Blue undressed in front of you. You’ve only ever seen him bare from the waist down. Or rather — from button to fly. 
Blue took it upon himself to teach you everything he thought a Lennox girl should know and he was generous enough to take the time out of his busy schedule to let you practice on him. You’ve memorized every pulsing vein and tender inch of his cock, just like he instructed you to, but it didn’t make you any more willing to unshield your eyes as your boss slipped underneath the veil of hot water beside you. 
Was this your divine punishment for wandering out of the bedroom and drawing a bath without his permission? You could only lay upside down and count the ceiling tiles so many times before getting a headache. 
Your hair was still pinned up from your time on the floor and Blue watched carefully as specks of glitter rivered down your bare collarbones. He was content in watching you manipulate the bubbles with your hands, stacking them in short towers and swirling your fingers through the water. He took a long drag from his cigarette. Those thick Cuban cigars were reserved for his highest-paying customers only. Besides, he never got used to the taste. Like aged paper and stale earth. 
Blue watched you closely, his eyes trailing up and down the pale scars that littered your delicate fingers. He hated how eager you were to work alongside your friends in the kitchens. He made it very clear from the start that you didn’t have to do anything like that as long as he was around, but you persisted with those perfect little puppy eyes of yours. 
One day he would have to say no to you. But that day was not today. 
He found himself watching the security footage like a hawk whenever you had kitchen duty. After the cook’s little fuck-up with one of his girls a while back, he was hesitant to let something as dear to him as you anywhere near the backrooms. 
But the pig seemed to have learned his lesson. If anything, he appeared to be under the same spell as he was. Poor little fucker. The only difference was that the cook never got to see you like this — stage makeup smeared from warm bathwater and perfumed steam. 
Blue sunk lower into the tub, two fingers pinching his cigarette millimeters above the water’s surface. You were completely bare to him. The only thing decorating your body was a white leather band – just as wide as his thumb was long – secured around your neck. He studied the golden heart-shaped pendant nestled between your soapy breasts, tracing the letters with his half-lidded eyes.
PUPPY
A smug smile wrestled its way onto Blue’s lips, knowing that his name was printed just as bold on the opposite side, right after ‘property of.’ It was one of your first little treats after he became completely and utterly infatuated with you. 
He made it a habit to bestow most of these treats upon you in the crowded dressing room or dance studio. He loved watching the lights in the other girl’s eyes flicker with raging jealousy as they studied your newest gift, knowing that while they shunned you for the next week or so, you would spend all of your time pouting in his bed while he worked from his desk. Once he got a taste of that view, it became impossible to focus on anything else.
“Can I try?”
Your voice rang out in the silent room like a bell. Your arms crossed over your concealed lap and the charm around your neck jingled from the movement. Your eyes were glued to the cigarette between Blue’s fingers and when he held it higher above the water to readjust his weight, you licked your lips hungrily. 
You’ve seen the men on the club floor smoking them all the time as they watched the dancers perform. They smelled god awful and the smoke always clung to your hair even after you shower at the end of a shift, but you couldn’t help but wonder. 
Blue chuckled, unable to hide his growing amusement. The water rippled as he reached across the tub. “Two fingers, there you go.” He instructed you on how to hold it properly, sitting back to watch the show with a snicker.
You wrapped your lips around the papery cylinder and breathed in deep, just like you’ve observed. The bitter smoke rapidly filled your lungs and you leaned forward to cough into your wet elbow, gingerly handing it back out to Blue who was barely containing an understanding chuckle.
“Nah, Nah, Nah, you’re doing it all wrong. C’mere.” He tapped his thigh underneath the water and you recognized it as one of his more casual commands, immediately abandoning your bubble creations to crawl across the floor of the tub until your back was resting up against his slippery bare chest. Your wet hair tickled his jaw as he took another inhale, worshipping the taste of you all along the mouth of his cigarette.
“Here,” he grumbled, skipping the part where he handed it to you just to pin the off-yellow end between your lips. A hand traveled up your throat and his thumb stroked the underside of your jaw encouragingly. “Suck in. Deep.” 
It’s a command and he growls it, watching your chest rise and fall with the glowing of the embers. When he wants you to stop, he taps your cheek with the back of his finger. “Hold it.” And obediently, you do. 
With the fresh, mind-clouding smoke swirling around in your lungs, Blue leans down and slowly kisses up the column of your throat, beginning his journey right above your white leather collar. Such a good girl, letting him pet you like this. He marks you with his lips all the way up to your earlobe, ending your torment with a harsh nibble.
“Okay,” the word leaves him in a regretful breath and he clings to the lingering taste of your skin on his lips. It’s the first time you’ve bared yourself to him like this and he wasn’t going to let you get away without memorizing every curve and dip of your flesh. “Let go, puppy.”
The smoke fans from your parted lips without a single cough or wheeze of discomfort. As soon as the last of the vapors were expelled from your lungs, you turned around to project your proud beaming face at Blue, which he returned tenfold as he let his eyes roam your face freely. Look at you, doing just what he asked.  
He took the opportunity to hike you up taller in his lap until your stomach was pressed flush against the underside of his hardening cock. He groaned at the way your thighs instinctively tightened around his torso. Your eyes grew wide as you smoothed your hands over his chest. Blue smirked, chin jutting upwards in a shallow nod. “Kiss me.”
Like you’d only just been waiting for spoken permission, you instantly captured his lips with yours, allowing his firm hands to rock your hips against his lap in painfully slow circles that made you whine softly into his open mouth.
He allowed his hands to travel freely over the landscape of your body, his hands gliding over your wet skin. Your soapy breasts felt like heaven under his fingers and you let out a desperate little pant as the rough pads of his thumbs rolled over your untouched nipples. The pleasure caught you off guard and you giggled into his kiss. Unbeknownst to you, Blue was memorizing the feeling of your smile and how it molded perfectly against his. 
The drugs did nothing for him. But this — you — he could see himself easily becoming addicted to. 
A heavy knock shook the door to Blue’s office. He hadn’t thought to close the bathroom door when he was still clothed and he could make out the silhouette of one of his henchmen behind one of the stained glass panels past the entryway. 
“Mr. Jones?” 
“Yeah! Just… One —One minute!”
He wasn’t quite done navigating your body, but you seemed put off by the presence at the door, already trying to sink deeper into the protective bubbles. He doesn’t like that—how you try to hide yourself from him.
You’ve turned yourself to face the door now, eyeing the silhouette although you knew whoever it was couldn’t see a thing past the pictured glass. Blue was the only man in Lennox House who didn’t look ready to eat you alive at a moment’s notice. Other than CJ, who always seemed like he would rather be someplace else as he trailed behind his boss and dutifully cleaned up his messes. 
Blue accepted this new position and began assaulting your neck with hungry kisses that made you yelp and melt back into his arms. The knocking starts again, turning thunderous just as he decides to explore the territory that you’ve kept hidden underneath the canopy of soapy water. 
His fingers traced your outer thighs, rolling his fingers in loose circles as he inched his way closer and closer to your core. Blue could nearly feel the tips of his fingers tremble with anticipation before another series of knocks broke his nearly religious concentration. He glared at the doorway as he pulled away, bringing both hands up to clutch your jaw and turn your face to the side so he could plant one last parting kiss against your cheek.
“Dry off,” he barked, a little peeved at himself for letting his workday anger seep into this one moment he had with you. His other hand came up and patted your cheek. “I want you on the bed when I get back.”
The fresh towel he haphazardly secured around his waist did very little to obscure his growing erection and he cussed under his breath. Gathering his clothes into a pile, he heard the water stir behind him and peered over his shoulder to see you leaning halfway out of the tub, looking up at him compliantly. “Okay, Blue,” you chirped, only sounding slightly dejected by his brief dismissal. 
It was like hearing his name for the very first time every time you spoke it. Blue huffed, now glaring sharp daggers at the figure standing just on the other side of the door. Whatever required his attention so desperately better be worth it. Because if it wasn’t, he wouldn’t hesitate to drop another body into that ditch.
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henrysglock · 7 months
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Hi can you plz help me to understand. My feed is mainly talking about Palestine, showing the atrocities happening, wanting Palestine to be free and I agree the Palestinian civilians should be safe and the bombings and attacks should stop. But I’m failing to see why people aren’t caring about the Israeli civilians as much? They are also being killed, many innocently at a music festival only to never return home again. But it’s like no one cares about them bc they’re they enemy! But they’re not they’re innocent people. Just like the Palestinian people are. And I kinda get the war between both but also what happened was over 70 years ago most of the people living there now weren’t there 70 years ago so why should they still be talked about as though they’re the enemy when living in Israel is all they’ve known? It shouldn’t be just swept under the rug no and I know everyone isn’t just going to stop and make up and hold hands singing songs but It’s 100% the governments problem I just don’t understand why people now are failing to sympathise with the Israeli victims? And why some Jewish people/celebs are being made out to be bad people just bc they speak up on what’s being done to their fellow Jews? Not sure if you’ve seen Brett’s ig but he’s been very vocal and if I’m honest does seem quite extreme but ppl like Noah just seem like he’s upset and worried and doesn’t want harm to come to either side but ofc he’s going to show support to Israel when he’s been there to learn more about his religion? Idk what to believe in terms of news anymore bc some seem very pro-Palestine and others pro-Israel and some switch between both every other day. It’s just all very confusing but it has made me a little sad to see not many people talking about the innocent Israelis who have lost their lives and are still in the middle of all this too… sorry if this is too much I just needed to say it to someone :/
Okay, anon, I think I know where the disconnect lies: scale.
1,400 were killed in the attack on Israel, and that’s a horrible thing. Loss of civilian life is never a good thing.
However. Over 5,000 and counting Palestinians have been killed by the Israelis just since the Hamas attack. That’s not including the 70+ consecutive years of occupation and mistreatment continued mistreatment enacted on them by the Israeli government (It’s not something that “happened 70 years ago”, anon. It has been constant). They have been and are being driven out of their homes; their lives, livelihoods, and land are being stolen out from under them. 70 years’ worth of children have been and are being murdered or left as orphans.
Here are some numbers just since 2000:
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And there is no “both sides”, here. There is no “war”, Anon, because Palestine has no army, while Israel is backed by the governments of most western countries, the US army included. They have the backing of the most powerful army in the world…against a people with no army. Palestinians, anon, are defenseless. Israel is bombing their hospitals and schools. It’s an unceasing massacre. Gaza is an open-air prison. The Palestinians cannot escape the violence.
So yes, it’s deeply unfortunate that Israeli civilians were killed, and I sympathize with those who were hurt by that attack, emotionally and/or physically…but they are not victims of genocide, here.
Palestinians are.
That is why we’re more vocal about Palestine, anon. The scales aren’t even close to the same.
This isn’t even going into the fact that Hamas was founded and funded to destabilize Palestine. To quote Avner Cohen, an ex Israeli official: “Hamas, regrettably was Israel’s creation”. Meanwhile, the current PM of Israel, Netanyahu, has said “Anyone who wants to thwart the establishment of a Palestinian state has to support bolstering hamas and transferring money to hamas. This is part of our strategy—to isolate Palestinians in gaza from Palestinians in the west bank.”
Israel’s blood is on its own hands.
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jellyfosh · 8 months
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Chosen is built like a brick shithouse and honestly ur correct for drawing your interpretation of em like that. More ppl should draw the sticks looking like they could crack skulls between their biceps tbh it adds character
Truuueee and honestly
I wanted to give The Redemption Squad more character. Since I put the ask redemption squad, theres very little about them, which I’ll try to focus on as well, each of them will have their own lore. Starting by my interpretation of their figures. This also follows up with that one ask of why Chosen is so big and bit funny looking. I haven’t grown buff guys in a while.
Chosen - Yes, he is big. A freaking walking Bulldozer. He’s most likely an OP TANK. I gave him a prison/Miguel O’Hara/Captain America bod. A powerful beast but a gentle soul (sometimes) He already gone past his hatred to Alan and tries to live peacefully and redeeming himself along with three others. This doesn’t mean he’ll stop using his powers and fight when a cause happens and CG needing him. He mentors Second with his powers once a week. His preferable weapons are his fists and powers. Even though MT and Dark made him gauntlets so he wont feel left out.
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Navy - has a veteran/gladiator figure. His body is a bit similar to Chosen but smaller. Lost his arm in one battle (after he left Pink and Purple) so he uses a prosthetic that makes it look like he didn’t lose a limb in the first place. If noticed by few text from previous posts, he mentioned he was in a clan, and that he also has powers. Not powerful like the Hollowheads, but enough to help him in battle. He has gotten over of trying to force Purple to be strong, but he have not talked to Purple as he feels he’s not ready to face his son yet. His choice of weapon is a Great Sword. And the name NAVY is his alias he goes by, His real name is Royal Blue.
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Mango Tango/King/MT - I see him having a tall but bit skinny figure. He’s not buff like Navy and Chosen, but he is exceptionally strong. He’s already intimidating by his height alone. He still feels guilty of what he done to the CG and to Purple despite them saying they forgiven him. He just feels the need to redeem himself, he and purple are in better terms and now have a father - son relationship. Purple calls him Baba and Mango spends time with Purple once a week. Sometimes when talking, Mango will kneel down by one knee to hear better and he feels guilty since the person he’s talking too aches their necks (He does it to Dark and Red sometimes). His choice of weapon is the Minecraft staff, Dark had it made for him through his blueprints and altered two Minecraft blocks by coding. He’s somewhat the Mage/Jack of all trades of the group.
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Dark - his body reverted back to how he was created by Alan at the beginning. Smallest of the group but tallest to Purple and CG. He doesn’t remember the Showdown and the progression to the point of the Virus (Like Amnesia). He’s most open and got along to Mango and Navy very quickly. Although to Second and CG not very much. Despite his amnesia, Dark still has his love of bugs and coding, which explains he got close to Mango faster since they shared interests. His powers a now a mix so its new change for him as it does not make the same outcome when he had his powers. His choice of weapon are Vira blades/Kusarigama, he recreated his bracelets (muscle memory) but did not include the Delete Code property. As I said, the powers he has are new.
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johnmalevolent · 11 months
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ive been like having visions of how arthur feels about human connection and what it has to do w his griefs (parents wife daughter) and this part just fuels it more. like we know that he's not the type to reach out to ppl HE FUCKING MISSED HER FUNERAL. yk. where a lot of ppl would mourn the dead and console the family left behind. but arthur couldnt bear to see his wife go, especially after what he'd done (or lack thereof) to her. meanwhile daniel was seeking for a connection, and its not unreasonable that daniel being there was part of why arthur didn't attend. but arthur never went to see daniel. he spent his time working and left his daughter to tess. after faroe's death he talked with daniel but then drove him away once again. until parker reached out to him. and we know he's persistent, and it took some time for arthur to finally open up. arthur never reached out to people, people reached out to him. bella was the one who first took a liking to him too.
and then we have john. the resident entity living in arthur's eyes. suddenly arthur loses his privacy (and remember the prison - "that's not for you." "what?" "my thoughts.") and their situation leaves arthur very vulnerable but after some time they open up to each other etc you get it you've listened to the podcast. its like. john isn't just persistent, he's nagging for arthur to tell him stuff. parker intended to help so he knew topics he could touch and the ones he shouldn't, but i doubt john had the same purpose.
anyway that wasnt my visions i talked at the beginning. my visions are very loosely based on canon, setting place in an ending (or part of the story maybe) where john gets his own body. i see your "arthur misses john and they're touchy all the time" or the touch starved arthur things and i love every single one of them with my john shaped heart but consider. arthur who has not had much deep connection in his life, who felt wrong to live with his wife or have a family, who keep his fil miles away, who has gotten "more scars in a few months than [he does] in a lifetime." imagine him being scared of touch but desperate for a connection. he doesnt have a lot of experience of physical intimacy but he's able to open up to people (james, parker). being separated from john changes a Lot of how they interact because they are in a way touchy with each other but also not really?? also arthur was the one to bring it up so cheerfully like "maybe you could get a body of your own!" but you know what happened to everyone around arthur who isn't john. they leave. even john came back (REMEMBER THE MINEEEEES. "john :'( you remenber :'( you have your hand back :'( let me shake it :'(" insane cinema). he feels bad for feeling bad that john has his own body. he doesnt want to feel like he wishes john were less free/confined in his mind still but he does wish that john were still with him. despite john being in front of him listening to him just as he always did. SORRY FOR BEING INSANE ON MAIN I NEED TO FUCK OFF TO A DESERTED ISLAND WITH NO INTERNET SOMEWHERE IF YOU WANT THIS BLOG TO BE NORMAL ABOUT MALEVOLENT. WHICH IS NEVER
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time-is-restored · 8 months
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oh shit i forgot here's another one, this time its an old neal caffrey analysis rant (this one fueled by insomnia, and written much earlier into my first watch of white collar - i think early season 3??):
im gonna be weird about white collar but the thing is so many people are weird about white collar in the wrong direction
like woobifying neal to hell and back or inventing whole new personalities for el or . i don’t even know how to describe what they do to peter
like the thing about neal is he Is a magpie he’s just a surprisingly loyal one, he flits from shiny thing to person to ideal, sure, but certain classes of ppl can fully hold his attention
peter holds his attention bc he is good as in skilled (it’s borderline canon that no one else can catch him, or even really come close), and extremely principled w a cunning streak which neal basically approaches as like. a puzzle box, bc like none of their principles line up so he’s curious how the apparent closed system rube goldberg machine of his morals work LOL
then it becomes a dedication through loyalty, in that peter sticks his neck out multiple times due to faith in neal, and neal is EXTREMELY weak to loyalty/consistency (gestures at the mess of his childhood)
and due to generally low self image (morals wise, he kind of thinks he sucks? like he’s competent and cool and charming and everything, but he also tends to consider himself a nuisance, w how he’s disruptive to ‘normal’ / ‘good’ people) that dedication can become disproportionate
we see through kate (and later, adler) that the easiest way to con neal/get him acting against his own self interest IS to cultivate that loyalty
there’s an easy archetype to it, even, in that u present him with a competent, smart individual (bonus points if they’re a conventionally attractive woman), but have her off limits in some way (uninterested, taken, stand off ish, whatever), activate his thief urge to ‘take’ what he wants, then when they are friends/partners whatever, his inadvertent guilt over like. corrupting/endangering this person/tricking them about who he ‘really’ is will loop around into VERY strong loyalty, and a commitment to being whatever they want him to be x2, bc he Cannot handle being left behind LMAO
peter simultaneously feeds into + challenges this framework, bc he clearly has the least biased opinion about who neal is, even though he’s still wrong about a lot of things. and beyond that, he REALLY likes neal, thinks he’s interesting and funny, but at the start of the show can’t deal with even 0.01% of his chaotic neutral methods
WHICH IN TURN!! actually breaks through some of Neal’s shit bc:
peter picked him out of prison before neal had changed at all
he essentially sees his role, from as early as ep 1, as tactically breaking the law where peter can’t/won’t, in ways that help them close the case faster
after peter (more or less) gives a thumbs up the first time he does this, neals puzzle box brain goes ‘oh?? morally grey bestie??? CRIME BESTIE????’ and now he’s trying to ‘solve’ peter’s moral code
this is actually almost in complete opposition to elizabeth, who is compete open and clear about her affection and friendship w him basically since they meet, and apparently has no prerequisites for it. which, again, pointing to the low self esteem, triggers the ‘oh god what have i done to deserve this i haven’t even CONNED her yet’ so he’s low key more invested in + comitted to elizabeth in a specific. 'i want to be on good terms w this person' targeted way than he initially was w peter (since their mutual obsession manifests so fucking frequently as 'what, you're gonna hit me? you're gonna hit me with that big bat? better make it hurt. better kill me in one shot!' style antagonism)
HENCE the constant check ins w their relationship, reminding peter about anniversaries and dinner times etc, though that’s also due to a general fascination he has w stability + permanence
we learn in s2 he was seriously considering proposing to kate, and that he genuinely wanted to take the ‘true love’ way out of the conman life, even though he wasn’t quite sure whether it would stick, hence we see a lot in s2 his fascination w peter + els marriage, along with june (crime aunty <3)‘s relationship w her passed husband
a lot of his dedication to peter circa s2 is, by my reckoning, explicitly because peter is so determined to stick with Neal, and doesn’t give up on him/their deal even when it would be entirely reasonable (neal admits to crimes, gets put back in prison, constantly breaks rules and goes looking for kate) which is like. neal HATES being trapped, but he also REALLY values consistency + competency
hence the complexes, y'know?
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declanscunt · 1 year
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saw another complainy post about succ s4 re: tomgr*g and also how the tone has been off in general and i wasnt gonna rant ab it but im watching queencharlottebridgerton and im very bored so yeah. anyway
i DO think the tone of this season has been kind of different ish BUT there are many reasons for that and i dont think its necessarily bc of bad writing or mischaracterization. 1) logan is dead and that leaves a big gaping hole the rest of the characters can never fill. thats actually kinda the whole point etc. 2) it has never been so explicit or obvious that they are highlighting the cycle of abuse caused by capitalism. this season imo has a heavier handed feel because it is the culmination of all events of the previous seasons, and all the events of their past that they dance around and mythologize/misremember, it is these ppl digging themselves deeper and deeper into the tragedy
and OF COURSE u can be critical of this heavy handed portrayal but i think a lot more ppl are simply mad that theyve sidelined greg/tomgreg and that is what annoys me like. the writers have always known exactly who greg is. a social climber nepotism product of his environment who is both outsider and audience insert. the entire time we’ve known greg he has tried to attach himself to someone more powerful and imo everything he has done in s4 aligns with this (and yeah, i think they COULD have done more with his character from the offset, but with an ensemble cast they have to figure out what story is most compelling and he simply didnt make the cut. boohoo. also we all know nicbraun does not have the range)
also (and ive seen ppl talk ab this before so all credit to them) throughout the first three seasons tom projected his shiv issues onto greg — and as we’ve seen repeatedly in s4, his betrayal of shiv opened the floodgates so to speak and allowed him to express his frustrations directly with her instead of using greg as a psychosexual outlet. also tom and greg are no longer in criminal cahoots because the DOJ investigation has boiled over and tom isnt going to prison, so theres less tension there. and yeah, tom IS probably still bullying greg. but like. IDK ABOUT YOU BUT ID RATHER SEE KENDALL DROWN HIMSELF IN LOGANS LEGACY THAN SEE TOM EMAIL HIS ASSISTANT A BAJILLION SLURS. like. how does tomgr*g serve my interests!!!!! lol
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loving-n0t-heyting · 2 years
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Radfems stand out among broadly left-leaning ppl on here in reacting to anti-carceral posts with vitriolic rage instead of unreflective adulation but I think much/most of the work in the latter case is getting done by cognitive dissonance absent for the rad shits. I can remember one appallingly popular post spreading the contact info for a judge to punish him for being too lenient in a particularly dramatic case, another that got plenty of libfem leftists asking how to send money to the prison commissary of a murderer to reward him for carrying out the extrajudicial execution of two fellow inmates, and one response from a big name anarchist to a widely circulated anti-registry post about how “‘registries are queerphobic nightmares’ and ‘it is an outrage most ppl to commit sexual violence will never face justice’ are two ideas that can and should coexist (:”
The incoherent abolitionism has its virtues ofc in that it inspires ppl to activism and electoral commitments and individual abstentions from the criminal justice system, but it still ticks me off. Tεrfs continue to act as a sort of funhouse mirror thru which more mainstream social justice advocates can see their own faults for what they are
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