#FORCE OF UTTER RAGE AND HATE

[ask-the-allied-mastercomputer]

(Mod do you know what self shippers are and do you hate them?

there's not many people in the world i hate

honestly? i accidentally became one. the whole reason @askthe-littlepoet is a thing, is because i was bored, was doing a bit where i parody myself, and felt a sudden wave of depressive numbness, verbalized it (because, at the time i was anonymous), and coffee (as narinder) called me(?) "a little poet"

if it's well written, i'll acknowledge the craftsmanship, and if it isn't, i'll understand that too, but it doesn't seem awful too harmful, doesn't it? isn't it just... making an oc version of yourself, and shipping it with a character?

i know it's semi-odd to hear "hey, the guy behind AM doesn't hate people!" but, well

i find some easier to, than others

(little rant in the tags, i needed to let that out, sorry chat)

[tippenfunkaport]

I'm just... really hung up on that person coming onto my blog and somehow getting the impression that I was anti glimbow or SPOP critical. Like could they have possibly read the room worse?

[suguru-getos]

Could you write a continuation of yandere satosugu where the reader lived and they try everything to help her get better and care for her?

| making up for mistakes | yandere satosugu x reader |

-> continuation of the first part: link 🔗

you had survived the almost suicide attempt you so carefully & yet so carelessly attempted. you were sure you weren’t getting up after this. damn it you made sure to hit your head hard, you could see blanks, you could see stars in your eyes until it all faded to a peaceful nothing-ness.

now, you’re awake again. nothing hurts. you know they must’ve told their friend shoko to aid in your injuries. you feel like you’ve woken up from a long slumber. unwanted as it may be… it does make you feel eerily refreshed. you stretch your limbs from the bed, they’re going to kill you for this. kill you for hampering with their property. oh well — at this point you’re fine with it. what’s it going to do? hurt you. pain is all there is they could ever offer anyways. maybe you can scream out and wish it gets over. that’s all you set your mind to.

you look to the side, the curtains are open and there is a little drizzle of snow. it brings a smile to your face. what if you hadn’t been kidnapped? it would’ve been so fun to hop into one of the lovely cafes you like & order some hot cocoa. put both your hands and wrap them around the ceramic of the hot cup and exhale in utter relaxation of the aroma the sweet cafe has to offer. oh… happy days.

its nauseating what your life is now, wrapping a blanket around yourself and checking down below. you are wearing clothes, decent clothes… not the sultry, slutty ones that satoru forces you to wear. you feel like you could throw up when the reminder occurs again. beaten up like you were nothing but an animal, throwing up in pain and anxiety--

"there we go! princess! awake! oh my god!" satoru comes in and hugs you tightly, his bulky arms wrapping against you, he doesn't let your mind have the time to panic. besides, satoru was... not the one who inflicted you that pain. even though he did nothing about it, in a moment of pure misery, your mind would latch on to him for comfort. "baby- you scared daddy, please don't do that ever again. fuck! i thought i lost you." you could hear the heartbeats on your snow haired man, they were ragged and reminded of the same panic you once bore.

"sorry." your eyes lack all emotions, just a soft murmur escaping you. the haunting realization that you were alive was eating you up. even so, it was your soul that had died. it's the dejected way you answered that makes satoru panic even more. immediately at your knees, leaning against your thighs and mumbling soft apologies, tears wetting your skin. "please baby, I'm so sorry, i should never have let that happen... you did a mistake that's all! you- you- pissed us off." he shakes his head, hugging you tightly.

your hands robotically landed across his hair, caressing. "it's okay, i did wrong, i understand."

your responses were making him nauseous, he hated seeing you in pain, but suguru always says its something that's needed. why is it needed? you're not an animal, are you? the ways with which satoru and suguru try to 'discipline' their toy they are delusional enough to call their lover is insane.

"i got breakfast, little one." now, your heart sinks. you hear the voice of the man who did this to you, mothering, now that his rage is faded into pure, eviscerating guilt. "you have no idea the joy it gives me seeing you awake." suguru hums, and you latch onto satoru, hugging him tightly. satoru's heart skips a beat. this was not the first time you had reached out to him, yet, you did it by your own. it gives him a sick sense of protectiveness. "he wouldn't do anything to ya baby, suguru loves you too." he reminds, looking at a devastated suguru.

"please don't hurt yourself again, angel" suguru hums, leaning in and kissing your forehead. it makes you sick to your stomach, how they treat you right now. you know that whatever you did yielded no results. and they are ever so careful about the same. you're pretty sure you'd have either of them by your side at all times.

"let's go and eat, suguru's made your favorite!" satoru chirps, happily holding you princess-style and going to the dining area. your eyes wandered to the other room on the way, the same room where this all happened, it's making you panic internally. the grotesque reminder of how they treated you. you're about to throw up again.

as soon as satoru puts you down, you run to throw up in disgust, nothing comes out except a few drops of water. your stomach is empty as is. a large, looming hand caresses your back. "I'm sorry, angel. please relax." suguru-- it's suguru...

"i'm sorry." you answered, "i am so sorry." you nodded to get back to the dining area, you should know better than to be with satoru. its not like suguru wouldn't do anything he wants anyways... you'd just like to have some comfort over it.

luckily for you, the breakfast went fine, you were eating quietly, while satoru just observed you. how uncomfortable you looked, the subtle shift in your demeanor. every tiny thing. suguru is essentially doing the same, gazing at your way and observing you. "you look beautiful." suguru comments, and you force a smile from the deepest pits of your psyche. "thank you, suguru."

you know he's ticked off, you need to call them 'daddy' and you're here, addressing them by their first names. sigh... they just have to help you heal, there isn't anything they can do about it really. they pushed you this far, and they should make up for it.

however, as days turn into weeks, satoru and suguru are forced to face the haunting realization that your mental and physical health is worsening. you barely eat, barely talk... you just, stare into the nothingness of empty spaces. satoru has avoided missions to take care of you. he is by your side, sleeps next to you, kisses your forehead, helps you take a shower. while earlier, you tried to at least pretend and work with it. answer however you could, talk to them, fake your smiles, now its nothing. you barely talk.

this time, satoru has a mission to take care of, but suguru is the one who's spending time with you. gently placing you on the bathtub, caressing your forearm, massaging it, decorating it with petals. "there we go little girl, there we go. feels nice?" he coos, and when you don't respond, sighs weakly. he wishes he could at least hear something out of you. when he sees you immersed in auto-pilot, he hums by himself; "yes, yes it is." he has to talk to himself in hopes that its you talking to him. "you know, me and satoru... we were thinking a trip to Italy sounds nice, or maybe Paris.." you used to love travelling, he hopes that would utter out a response from you. NOTHING comes out of you however. that makes suguru's heart break a little, "or maybe, anywhere that you like." he hums, sighing.

"angel?" he asks softly, leaning in and kissing your neck, maybe that would at least earn some leaning back. your resistance...

none.

"talk to me for fucks sake!" suguru snarls, glaring hard at you. you don't even flinch at that, contrary to your earlier flinching and tweaking. a sigh escapes him and then comes bubbling tears. he has truly fucked you up. the haunting realization finally hits him. he can't live with it anymore... it's choking the very fiber of his being.

the rest of the shower passes by in a haze, and suguru is quiet, tears dripping from his face. "what should i do so that you become normal again?" he asks again, pouting and begging with his eyes. no response...

he gets up after tucking you in bed. the dark circles in your eyes are an explicit example of how less you're sleeping. sometimes you wake up with irritating nightmares, screaming and crying. that's the only moment when satoru and suguru are welcomed by your affections.

suguru sighs, he needs to win you this time. or maybe... what's that called? stockholm syndrome?

or maybe, he needs to discuss with satoru about erasing your memory...

or maybe, he needs a curse that can shove your memory off and then they can date you.. from scratch...

either way, they're not leaving you. anytime soon.

[yappingwitch]

Say It Ain't So

pairing - Virgin!James Potter x fem!reader

summary - James busts a fat one. Porn with glimpses of plot. Maybe.

warnings - 18+ mdni, smut, awkwardness, James is a desperate virgin in this one, hence the weezer title, premature ejaculation, handjob (m receiving), one sided enemies to ???, slight m sub/f dom dynamics if you squint, legs

wordcount - 1.6k

disclaimer - english is my second language. Don't hesitate to correct me!

You hated James Potter.

Your dislike well-known among your friends, none of them dared to ever mention him anymore, fearing another long-winded rant from you. Remembering when the lot of you would stay up after curfew, sharing gossip and talking about your crushes. All of them gasped when you casually shared your feelings about the headboy after they spent what felt like hours gushing about him. Proceeding to list of every single thing wrong with the guy, making your friends regret ever bringing him up.

Did he have beautiful curly hair you just wanted to run your fingers through? Brilliant hazel eyes in which mischief was ever-present? Pretty plump lips, his slightly crooked, overly confident smirk always on them? Well, yes, you could admit that much. But as soon as he opened his mouth, you couldn’t care less about how pretty it was. He'd always disrupt the lessons, the golden boy having no filter or capability to raise his hand, always yelling the answers out or talking loudly with his posse during dinner, unable to control his volume and barely having to face any consquences for his obnoxious nature.

So when Slughorn, who aside from his quirky nature, you quite liked, decided to pair you both together for the last project of the year, you were fuming. At least internally. Your prideful nature and pureblood customs instilled in you by your parents forced you to keep a blank face, only briefly smiling at the teacher when he uttered your name after James', swallowing your rage.

Shortly after class ended, as you were packing your things after quickly finishing your notes, you suddenly heard one of the old wooden chairs in front of you creak. Looking up at the noise, you saw a certain Gryffindor already staring back, a stupid smirk on his face like always, the air of confidence around him ever-present.

“So…,” James started absent-mindedly going through your notes, but you quickly interrupted whatever he was about to say.

“I’ll take care of the project by myself. Can’t have you messing up my grades,” you simply stated, ripping your notes from his hands, frowning at the way he had smudged the last of your sentence. Ignoring your frown, he loudly exclaimed, “Hey! My grades are stellar.” He tapped his finger against his chest, where his perfect badge was. “They don’t give them away for nothing, you know?”

“I also don’t like you,” you said after a moment of silence, standing up and slinging your bag over your shoulder, quickly walking out.

But he wouldn't let up, following you all the way to the Great Hall, pestering you until you finally snapped right by the Slytherin table.

“Saturday, library, after lunch. No word from you until then,” you almost yelled, your face twisting in anger. Noticing the other Slytherins' snickers, you quickly composed yourself, swallowing your anger. He, oblivious as always, smiled widely, ignoring your state and simply basking in the glory of having won this little duel of words.

Saturday approached faster than you would’ve liked, dreading the obnoxious boy's presence already. But you approached the surprisingly empty library anyway, not one to go back on your word. You frowned slightly, looking around, realizing even the librarian must have taken the day off. Sighing, you called out to James; he was already there, notes and textbooks scattered about. He quickly jumped up from his chair, beaming like always, until his gaze drifted down, his usual aura of self-assurance dwindling a little.

“What are you wearing?” he asked, mouth hanging slightly agape.

You looked down; you were wearing a simple skirt and long-sleeved top, not too different from what you usually wore in your free time. Confused, you lifted your head again, his gaze quickly following, being previously trained on your bare legs. Realizing he had been caught, a blush appeared on his cheeks as he plopped unceremoniously down, coughing awkwardly and focusing on the books laying before him.

“Weirdo,” you stated, disinterest evident, just wanting this project to be over with. But what you saw once you reached the table he was sitting at piqued your interest suddenly. Looking down, a prominent bulge had formed in the front of his pants, straining against the material. A book was quickly tossed over it, but it was too late.

“You’re such a skeeze. Who gets hard from looking at a girl's legs?” you asked, amused, not really expecting an answer, just continuing to stare him down, enjoying watching the high-and-mighty golden boy begin to tremble under your intense gaze.

“..they are your legs,” he mumbled, blush only deepening as his eyes stayed glued to the table.

This made you laugh out loud, gasping for air.

“Are you a virgin or something? Bloody hell,” you huffed out between laughs, a single tear escaping your eye at the comical twist your day had taken.

James didn't reply, groaning in embarrassment and continuing to hold the book tightly over his lap.

“Cat got your tongue?” you said, still smirking but finally having calmed down. “I didn’t even know you were capable of zipping it.”

This seemed to push him over the edge; he picked up his bag and shoved everything in with lightning speed, until suddenly he froze, hearing your next sentence.

“I can help you out if you want,” you said, a mischievous smile adorning your pretty face, putting his own to shame.

All he got out was a quick “huh,” as you pounced, wordlessly pushing him back down onto the chair. He looked up through his glasses, his eyes wide, the cute blush still evident on his face. Fuck.

“You are so pretty,” you whispered aloud before pressing your mouth against his. Short and sweet. It was almost romantic, the way he gently started to move his mouth and the lovestruck look on his face once you pulled away.

He eagerly leaned forward again, knocking his nose against yours before trying again, this time slower, aiming properly while the book he had previously clenched in his lap dropped to the floor with a thud. He opted to instead take hold of your hips, almost moaning at the feeling of the warmth of your skin touching his, slightly poking out from the bottom of your shirt. You, in turn, moved your hand that gripped the curls at the back of his neck slowly down his chest, delicate fingers grasping at the painful bulge in his pants. This made James quickly pull away, a loud moan leaving his now reddened lips as he grasped your wrist, stopping your movement.

“I-” he gasped out. “I-I’m waiting for the right person.”

He regretted talking the second the words left his mouth, seeing you roll your eyes at him, laughing a little at the bizarre turn of events, moving to remove your hand nonetheless.

He quickly went to grasp at your wrist again, pulling it toward his crotch once more, his body moving on its own.

“You need to make up your mind, pretty boy,” you said softly, looking at him amused.

“You know…,” you started after he continued to be silent, he in turn looked up at you through his lashes, blushing, his glasses a little crooked and a dorky smile on his lips, hearing your voice again. “Maybe I’m not the right person… but… I could be your right hand,” you finished, slightly averting your eyes, cringing at your words.

He didn't notice, though, too lost in need for release; he eagerly nodded his head. You laughed a little, removing his grip on your arm and moving to open the Gryffindor's trousers, just enough for you to pull his now hard member out, precum already coating his tip, while pressing another sweet kiss to his lips. Disconnecting from him once more, you lifted your right hand, holding it up to James' face expectantly.

“Spit,” you commanded, and the boy obliged without a second thought.

One long, loud moan left his mouth as your hand slowly moved against his cock, brushing your thumb over the head, gently mixing the precum with his spit, spreading it all over his length. You moved to press kisses to his bobbing throat, his head thrown back in pleasure, as you started to move your hand up and down in a steady rhythm, sucking a small purple spot onto his neck, his gasps and groans only getting louder.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck,” James repeated over and over like a prayer, lost in pleasure. You lifted your head, stopping your assault on his neck, to look at his scrunched-up face, eyes tightly shut, mouth hanging open. You couldn't help but stare, the glaring noon sun shining in through the stained glass and making his skin almost appear to glow, colors of the rainbow dancing around his face, sweat bullets forming on his forehead like little diamonds. Fuck. He really was—

“Pretty,” you mumbled, pushing James over the edge-a string of curses leaving him as he came undone over your hand, specks of it staining your skirt all the way to your pretty legs, the reason all of this started in the first place.

He continued to gasp, trying to catch his breath and gasping out apologies for the mess. You silently tugged him back into his pants, amused at the wet spot adorning his own lower half.

You wiped your hand on his pants before zipping him up. Wordlessly, you pressed a kiss to his cheek, swiftly turning around, ready to go take a shower after the ordeal.

“Wait,” you paused in your steps, glancing back at James. “D-do… you… want… to,” he started, before pausing again, finally catching his breath. “Do you want to go to Hogsmeade… with me?”

You glanced ahead, continuing on your path without replying to the desperate boy, only flashing him a quick smirk.

Maybe you didn't hate him after all.

[aestherin]

KEEP MY HEART

goal 30: something wrong

NOTES: this took longer than i thought 💀 anw it was more tamed than i imagined omg yay!! ^^

Scaramouche thought the car ride home was plenty suffocating, but nothing could compare to how heavy the air was once he got home with his mother.

An extensive home that is reasonably far from other neighboring houses, with a spacious lot surrounding the house itself. It could've been such a perfect home — if not for the two broken people living in it.

As his mother remained silent while the two of them exited the car, Scaramouche thought he had at least the whole night to prepare for his mother's outburst. Alas, they haven't even made it to the front door yet, and he had already started hearing something.

"Kunikuzushi."

He merely turned to her, not even saying a word.

"Just what happened?" Scaramouche could not get something from his mother's voice at all. She wasn't yelling — it would be out of character for her to do so anyway. But she obviously wasn't happy either. But at least it wasn't that cold, too?

At a loss for words, the young man forced himself to focus his gaze on one random thing, perhaps the grass peacefully lying on their front yard.

'I'll just have to let her say anything and everything she wants to say, and I'll say nothing. And then tomorrow, we'll just continue like nothing happened,' he thought.

And so he did, letting his mother's words pass through one ear to the other. 'How can you let yourself play like that', 'how can you allow people to see you like that', 'just what would they say about you now', 'this isn't what we trained for'... Nothing he wasn't used to. It was all alright. He can go through another sermon session just fine.

Until he was knocked out of his stupor by a certain statement from his mother.

"Perhaps I should've gotten between you and that companion of yours I saw in the freedom wall. I think she is distracting you, maybe you should stay away from her."

A sudden surge of rage came over him, prompting him to finally meet eyes with his own mother. Ei was slightly taken aback, not used to receiving such a hateful look from her one and only son.

"What?"

The woman could not utter a response, still in shock at the state her son is in. She was so used to him being so indifferent whenever they talk, making it seem as if her advices and sermons have no effect at the slightest.

Meanwhile, Scaramouche, at the lack of response from his mother, could not stop himself anymore.

Scaramouche felt like a balloon — thinned, worn out, and keeping too much inside.

Much more than he could handle.

And his mother's words that night felt like a sharpened needle.

"Why the fuck do I always have to do what you tell me?" He finally snapped.

"What?"

"Can't you see that I'm trying?! And yet you always see something!" Scaramouche gritted his teeth.

"You always see something to criticize! You always see something like a flaw! You always see something wrong!" He yelled, shortly followed by a bitter laugh. "Heck, maybe you even consider my birth to be something wrong."

A swift slap cut him off.

Somehow, the physical pain inflicted by his mother got him out of his continuous outbursts, replacing his seething anger with shock. No matter how cold and strict his mother was, she had never gotten physical with him.

Refusing to believe what just happened, a wondering Scaramouche looked back up to his mother's face — only to see her eyes dripping and her cheeks stained.

'Are those tears?'

'My mother... crying?'

"How could you say something like that Kunikuzushi?"

"How can you treat your life so lightly like that?" Ei sobbed. "Your birth wasn't something wrong — it was the most beautiful thing that happened to me."

The young man just stared at her, probably in disbelief.

"You are my son, a part of me, something even more important than myself —"

"— and that's why I never wish to see you hurt."

"Hah," Scaramouche scoffed. "Really?"

The man could not do anything but laugh ironically. She doesn't want to see him hurt, she says?

'I hate to break it to you mom, but you've been doing that for so long.'

How many lies would she feed him tonight?

"I don't want you to suddenly commit a mistake while playing, put yourself to shame, and be unnecessarily criticized and judged heavily." The purple-haired woman said. "And if that happens? Then what? You'll be so affected by all the backlash, and then you'll finally lose yourself?"

Scaramouche swore he never expected to see his mother cry so hard. In fact, crying was one of the things he thought his mother was incapable of doing. But what was she saying?

Where is she getting all this from?

"What?"

"I don't want anyone precious to me to ever experience that again."

"What the heck are you talking about, mom?"

It was a slip of the tongue, unconsciously going back to what he once used to call the woman in front of him. A slip of the tongue that he failed to catch, but did not go past his own mother, whose memories of the days when he used to call her 'mom' flashed by her eyes.

But before she could even explain herself, someone else made their presence known.

"Your mother had a sister, you see."

It was Yae.

His mother's old friend.

“Have you ever heard of Makoto?” The pink-haired lady asked. Scaramouche could not see the relevance of her question, but he decided to humor her nonetheless. “Who?”

“My twin sister.”

“You had a sister?!”

Scaramouche thought he knew a lot about his mother. But really, is he even qualified to say that he knew her if he knew nothing about her past before having him? Everything he knew about Ei were memories of them together. Her being a loving mother to him when he was little, her having Yae as her only friend, her suddenly changing her parental practices once he started his soccer career — all of them were memories of her after his existence.

Only now did he realize he never knew anything about his mother’s past.

Yae sighed. “How is he ever going to understand if you never told him about Makoto, Ei?”

“It’s too dark of a story. He might not be able to handle it.”

“And you think he can handle your coldness and strictness forever?”

“What, do you want me to discourage my son from his dreams of being a top soccer player by telling him that my twin sister fucked up on a game just once, got so many backlash and became the people’s punching bag, went depressed up to the point that she couldn’t handle it anymore and eventually lost herself?” Ei spat out. “I don’t want to scare him off from achieving his dreams, but I can’t also risk the possibility of him having the same experience as my sister.”

What the fuck?

Merely processing the things he was hearing already required so much from the young man. He could not bear to disturb the conversation between the two ladies, lest there are still some things he should hear.

“So you set high expectations for him?”

“It was the only way I thought of.”

“Have you ever considered the thought that you yourself may actually be ruining his dreams for him?”

“What?” Ei turned her gaze to Scaramouche for a moment, allowing her to once again notice the state that her son was in. Trembling hands clenched into fists, focused yet glossy eyes, and brows furrowed — she couldn’t tell if they were out of fury or confusion. Perhaps it was both.

“You are making your son hate that dream of his that you sought to protect with the way you are treating him, Ei.” Yae walked towards the young man and lightly tapped his shoulder. “What this kid wants is to have fun playing, not play under constant expectations and strictness from his mother.”

Scaramouche looked up at her, who only smiled at him in return. “Isn’t that right, Kunikuzushi?”

He turned his face away from her and immediately swatted her hand from his shoulder. “What would you know about what I want?”

“Oh? But was I wrong?” She grinned. “No response? I must’ve been right then.”

“Shut up.”

“You’re just salty I’m right.”

“I am not?” The guy scowled. “Stop making things up you annoying hag —“

“Uh, excuse me?! What hag?!”

A certain purple-haired woman remained all throughout the banter between her son and her friend. When was the last time her son spoke to her without reservations like that? No, when was the last time they even had a proper conversation, one where he isn’t replying with words not even amounting to a handful?

“Ei, I want to ask you something.” A voice brought her out of her trance. “How do the other players on your team look whenever they practice and play?”

“Tired.” Ei described exactly how the boys on the team looked whenever they were on the field. Their whole beings drenched in sweat, their limbs trembling, their breaths hurried.

But despite everything, she remembered that they were having fun.

“But were they having fun?”

“They were.”

“And how does your own son look whenever he’s on the field?”

For the first time that night, absolute silence reigned over their abode’s front yard.

“See?” The pink-haired woman smiled. “Don’t you want Kunikuzushi to have the same experience as everybody else on your team?”

For the first time, Scaramouche heard the two words he thought he would never ever hear coming out from his mother’s mouth.

“I’m sorry.”

KEEP MY HEART — scara x reader smau

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[pupwashing]

older brother!jimmy x younger sister!reader

warnings: INCEST, NONCON, anal, unprotected sex, blood mention, cigarette burning on skin, lowercase intended

A/N: AT LAST I HAVE TIME TO POST :3 I really liked writing this even though it’s a drabble,, as always I love feedback! comments & rbs are appreciated!

jimmy’s a fucking weirdo.

being his younger sister, you’re the most qualified person to claim this as fact.

ever since you could remember, jimmy’s been the weird kid. the odd one out.

he doesn’t know care about doing things the right way or making people feel uncomfortable, including you.

he’s a terrible older brother, but you didn’t know he was going to get worse.

much, much worse.

jimmy stays in the basement; hasn’t made an effort to move out yet. probably never will.

you prefer him living down in the basement. means you don’t have to see him as much.

when the basement door opens, you think nothing of it. he’s probably coming up for food, like he usually does.

except, he makes a beeline for the living room, where you’re watching some trashy romcom. he hates your taste in films; fake bullshit that uses handsome faces to sell you a pipe dream.

maybe it’s jealousy, or maybe it’s pent up resentment. 

either way, it’s pissed him off, and he’s already having a bad day.

curly keeps trying to drag him everywhere under the sun.

he knows its out of pity, so he declines.

but curly is persistent.

that persistence just adds to his likability. something jimmy lacks, something he craves, deep down.

this anger jimmy feels, all his pent up rage leads him to make a drastic decision.

if he can’t take his frustrations out on the people that cause him, then he can surely use his younger sister as a punching bag.

you should’ve been more aware of your brother’s tendencies. should’ve known he’d snap sooner or later.

you just didn’t realize you’d be the victim when he did.

when you regain consciousness, you realize you aren’t in the living room anymore.

you’re in the basement, on a stained mattress.

attempting to move, you notice that your ankles and wrists are bound with zip-ties.

when you try to speak, you realize that there’s duct tape on your mouth.

you don’t have much time to ponder what’s happened before jimmy comes in.

his appearance is rough; a stained wifebeater and worn black boxers, with a unlit cigarette hanging from his lips.

he looks like shit, just like any other day.

he walks over to the mattress, not uttering a word as he flips you to lie on your stomach.

the cogs are beginning to turn in your head, and you don’t like where this is going.

he positions your body as if you were a mannequin; face down, ass up.

jimmy’s silent as he flicks his lighter on, lighting his cigarette.

he makes quick work of your shorts and panties, ignoring your whimpers of protest.

he kneads at your ass, letting the plump flesh fill his palms. 

he gropes you for a while before you feel it: a warm glob of spit on your asshole, trickling down to your pussy.

when it finally clicks what jimmy plans to do, it’s too late.

his cockhead nudges against your puckered entrance, forcing its way into your formerly virgin hole.

you scream, but the tape muffles it. jimmy doesn’t even flinch.

taking a drag of his cigarette, he exhales the smoke as he begins his thrusts.

he’s fucking you deep. feels like he’s messing with your organs.

jimmy presses a palm on the small of your back, forcing you to arch more as he violates you.

he doesn’t utter a word, nor does he grunt or groan. he just smokes his cigarette as he fucks you.

you don’t know how many hours it’s been, but you know he’s been through ten cigs. its easy to count, because he’s been putting them out on you.

your body aches, you feel like he’s ripped you in two, but he hasn’t stopped.

every snap of his hips has you talking to god, praying that he’d end your suffering, one way or another.

your prayers were interrupted by jimmy putting out his cigarette on your hip, rubbing this thumb over the fresh mark.

you don’t even scream this time. you’re too exhausted to even cry. you have no tears left.

jimmy gets up, the mattress creaking under the loss of his weight.

it’s finally over.

he leaves you on the bed in a crumpled heap, cum and blood creating a grotesque river as it slowly drips out of your abused hole.

but you know this isn’t the end of it.

he’s kept you tied up for a reason, he’s just taking a break.

you close your eyes, hoping that somehow, someway, you’ll get your dignity back, after jimmy stole it from you.

you fucking hate your older brother.

[middlingmay]

Alright so what if it was Gale who was losing it in the Stalag and not Bucky?

Bucky who's always been more untethered finds his snarling and snapping is more common, more accepted in the Stalag so long as it's not aimed at the guards. He doesn't have the pressure of trying to keep all of the worst bits of himself so contained, only blowing off steam at the bar or between the sheets. He still hates it, is still angry and furious and impotent, but in the Stalag he can express that more.

And he helps the others express it, too. Gives everyone one pass a day to curse him out as badly as they can, and he screams right back. Organises secret fights for morale - a chance to get the hurt and frustration out, a chance to exert themselves, a chance to bet with the meagre things they had and something to look forward to. The first person on their back was the loser - no first blood bullshit. This place was already taking too much life from them.

But Gale? Gale who's been angry his whole life but had to keep it on lock down. Gale who found the war and the air force as an outlet for his wilder impulses. Gale who needed to be in control of everyone and everything and pretend like he wasn't. He can't do any of that in the Stalag. He's always been afraid to let his emotions loose and lashing like Bucky. He didn't do well being so powerless, and didn't know how to be him in a place like this.

He can't do missions or rally the men. The crystal radio helps but that's only an hour here or there when it works. He creates chores and rotas and organises classes. But it all feels so useless.

He doesn't realise that between Bucky and Gale, the 100th stuck in the Stalag are managing to tolerate life there pretty well. Their hungry and constantly in danger, but they have both structure and an outlet when it got too much. Gale just sees himself as an utter failure if a soldier, a pilot, a major, a friend and a man. And ihe alternates between days where he's sick with rage from it, and days where he can't muster the will to rise from his shitty bunk. And Marge’s letters go unanswered.

He's not the self destructive kind to veer near the fence or pick a fight with a guard, but he takes minimal care of himself, giving away rations and leaving the warmest clothes for the others and not taking medicine when he gets sick in case someone needs it more later.

It drives Bucky crazy. And after exhausting every other idea he has he decides there's only one way to get a spark of life back into Gale. So the next fight he slates is Bucky v Buck.

Gale doesn't find out until he follows John who wants to show him something. It takes shockingly little persuasion, and Bucky things he's been waiting for something like this but would have never let himself take the plunge without being thrown straight in.

Lookout duty is a punishment that night, because no one wants to miss the fight of the two Majors of the 100th.

They knock the Holy hell out of each other. Gale's lip busts open easy, but he hits like a hammer. And John's nose is a prime target and his moustache is sodden with blood pretty quickly. Bruises blossom everywhere, and in the end, they fall down together. John sinks a boot into Gale's ribs and he.socks John's jaw so hard his ears ring.

They lie gasping on the floor and the match is declared a jaw and the boys are losing it as much as they can without getting caught.

But John sees it, lying there. A sparkle of life and feeling in Gale's eyes again.

That night in their bunks when they're somewhat patched up, Gale reaches out for the first time since they got there.

"I didn't get you too bad?" He asks as he trails his finger so ermsome of the more prominent bruises he can see even in the dark.

"Oh, I can feel it," John tells him through a genuine grin. It only tempers when he takes Gale's hand in his and thumbs over the too bony protrudence of his wrist. "You with me?"

Gale licks the crusting concealing blood off his lip, setting its healing back some. "Till there's no more pilots left in the sky, John."

[mangosrar]

call it what you want pt4.

matt sturniolo x fem reader.

“i mean what even is that” you said looking at chris while taking a bite of your burger, flailing your free hand around in utter confusion.

“you’re thinking too deep into it y/n he’s just fucking with you, he does it to us all the time you know this” he replied, chewing on some fries

“oh your brother pulls you into a closet and kisses your neck?” you laughed, looking at him with a cheesy grin.

“not exactly but he’s just trying to get under your skin…or maybe just under you” he said giggling and dodging the punch you sent him.

you just rolled your eyes and tried to hide your smile.

“but in all seriousness, kid probably smoked too much weed and started bugging, don’t get in your head about it” he told you, nudging you with his elbow, attempting to settle you.

that’s what you loved about having chris as a best friend. he always knew how to put you at ease. like now, after you straight up dragged him out of class and forced him to drive you to mcdonald’s, just so you could rage about his brother, he still somehow knew exactly what to say.

“do your parents know yet?” he asked, looking at you with a worried expression.

“i haven’t told them but, caden saw us this morning and when you’re the favourite child desperate for mommy and daddy to hate your sister, word travels fast” you replied, nodding your head as you spoke.

he just hummed in agreement, as you both continues to eat, basking in a comfortable silence.

you never really understood how matt was the way he was, when his brothers were so great. you always wondered what matt would be like if things were different. would you be as close as you are with nick? would he be able to make you laugh like chris does? or would you still hate the bones of him?

-

“chris bring me a drink” you shouted from the living room, as you cuddled up on the couch with a blanket, waiting to start the movie.

“do we have to watch this?” chris whined, padding over to you with a bottle of water in his hand for you.

“yes we have to watch this, it’s the best coming of age movie ever” you replied, taking the bottle of water from him and watching as he slumped down on the couch, huffing as you pressed play, and the movie began.

“i hate this movie” he muttered, crossing his arms, like a grumpy child. you just laughed at him before a voice appeared behind you.

“what movie?”

it was like he was always somehow creeping up on you, ready to pounce at any moment.

“the breakfast club” chris tensed up, not bothering to look back at his brother, instead keeping his eyes trained on the tv.

you weren’t sure if he was miraculously interested in the movie, or if he was too scared to look up, in fear your gaze might catch his and kill him instead of matt.

“and what the fuck are you doing here?” matt said turning to you, with furrowed brows.

“oh did you not notice? i’m re designing your living room. what the fuck does it look like i’m doing ass hat” you scoffed, turning your eyes away from him and back to the tv.

“so hostile y/n” matt tutted sarcastically before sauntering off into the kitchen. god how you just wanted to grab his face and-

“y/n!?” chris yelled snapping you out of whatever daze matt had managed to get you in. you hadn’t even realised that you were watching him.

“you’re staring” he spoke quietly in a sing song voice, smirking at you while wiggling his eyebrows.

you just swatted his arm before muttering a quick “shut up”. was it that obvious?

-

9pm rolled around fast, and before you knew it, chris was pulling up in your drive way.

“hey let me know how it goes in there” he said as you got out of the car, referring to your parents.

you just smiled, thanked him before closing the door and making your way in the house.

the thing was, you had great parents, but boy were they strict. they had rules for everything. no parties, no drugs, no boys, no skipping school, no staying out past 10, no grades below a B, the list went on and on. the only time the rules were let a little loose was when you came home with elija whitlock.

if your parents wanted you to be with anyone it was that man. he was your ex boyfriend of 8 months, and your parents worshipped the ground he walked on. he was smart and funny, came from a good family, he was well respected, and had a first class scholarship to the top college in boston. what more could they want for their little girl?

but in reality he was a complete and utter jackass. he was the most generic, stereo typical, fuck boy, captain of the hockey team, jock who partied, smoked and cheated behind closed doors.

everyone wanted him, and some how he landed the good girl with parents who would choke at the sight of a tattoo.

but all good things must come to an end, and after months of cheating, lying and borderline torture, you called it quits. you dumped his ass and left him in the dirt. it was like all hell had broke loose. everyone in the school had heard about it, but it hit you pretty hard.

although he was a complete douche bag and treated you like shit, he was your boyfriend and you loved him regardless, wether it was one sided or not. but no one loved him more than your straight line down, watching paint dry parents.

“you’re home late”

his voice made you jump as you placed your foot on the bottom step of the stairs, closing your eyes and scrunching your face up before turning around to face him. you had almost made it. almost.

“yeah, chris drove me home” you spoke quietly, before clearing ur throat.

“mhh. have fun?” your dad asked while looking at you and standing up, putting his hands in his pockets.

“yeah we just watched a movie” you replied. swapping from one foot to the other, like a nervous child.

“was matthew there?” shit.

“um, no he-“ you began.

“don’t even try and lie to me y/n because i already know” he cut you off. his face was hard as he stared at you from across the room.

you just swallowed and looked down.

“what has gotten into you? he’s not a good kid y/n and you know it. he drinks, he smokes and you know what? you will follow in his footsteps” he paused, pointing a finger at you, jabbing it in the air as he spoke. “i’ve seen it happen before, one week you’re fine, the next you’re on drugs, getting in the back of a police car” he nodded

“what are you even saying dad? that’s never going to happen!” you exclaimed, throwing your arms up by your sides and letting them fall again.

you weren’t sure why, but your mom had been oddly silent this whole time. usually she loved giving her 2 cents on things like this. but she hadn’t even looked at you yet.

“does he play sports?” your dad asked, raising his eyebrows.

“yes he’s on the hockey team, the same as caden” you sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose.

there was a brief moment of silence, your dad rubbing chin, like he was deep in thought and your mom looking at whatever book she was reading, like this conversation wasn’t even happening.

“the same as elijah” there was that 2 cents.

“fantastic observation mom. yes he’s on the same team as elijah, are we pointing out any other obvious facts that we’re all aware of or just that one?” you snapped, cocking your head in her direction.

she turned to look at you with her eyebrows raised as if to say “excuse me”, making you feel small.

“we’re looking out for you, he’s a bad influence y/n” she stated.

“you don’t even know him” you spoke quietly. this whole interaction made you feel a little stupid, they were completely right, but for the sake of your fake relationship, you had to fight your corner.

“no but i know he liked to drag you into janitors closets to do god knows what” she smiled sarcastically, looking back down at the book in her lap. and as if on cue, that shit eating, vile little creature you call a brother appeared in the doorway.

“snitch” you spat at him. he just frowned and placed his hand over his heart, in fake sadness.

“hey! he’s looking out for you, like we all are” your dad spoke, sending you a authoritative look. you weren’t actually sure you had the brain power or energy to entertain this conversation much longer, you were never going to win. between your parents and your brother, you were toast.

“whatever. can i go now?” you sassed, crossing your arms over your chest.

“don’t let me catch you in any closets, up to no good” your mom demanded. you just rolled your eyes and stomped up the stairs.

although that whole lecture was soul sucking, there was a small part of you that wanted to jump for fucking joy, purely for the fact that matt sturniolo was your long haired tattooed, weed smoking, fake boyfriend.

i message.

chris 🤓

y/n: parents flipped. they think i’m gonna be arrested🥳

chris: i can’t tell if thats a good or bad thing

y/n: time will tell. elijah was brought up

chris: should have known. your parents think the sun shines out of that dudes ass

y/n: trust me i know

chris: want me to tell matt?

y/n: na it’s cool i’ll tell him

chris: gotcha

matt 🖕

y/n: you didn’t tell me my brother saw us today?

matt: i forgot your dumb and can’t read context clues

y/n: oh so pulling me into a closet kissing my neck are context clues? makes sense matt good job!!!!!!!!

matt: i had to keep up the act or he would know it’s fake.

y/n: wow. i wasn’t aware caden could see through walls😱

matt: don’t act like you weren’t enjoying it.

y/n: i think having needles in my eyes would have been a better experience. nice try tho !

matt: whatever helps u sleep at night sweetheart.

ass hole.

——————————————————————————

taglist: @christinarowie332 @jenna0rtegaswife @mattswifue @chrisenthusiast @mattslolita @secret-sturniolo @gloomymatt @urfavstromboli @gwenlore @mattestrella @iloveneilperry @ifilwtmfc @iammattsturniolo @sturniolos4lifee @honestlybabymiracle @sturns-posts @carolinalikesthings @kasiaslayuje @blondiesjailer @crazycoka @honestlybabymiracle @morgannmay @megamia44

[agoofyannoyancetolaw]

forced

a/n: yes this is forced proximity trope. Yes it’s overused. And yes I do in fact love it with my heart and soul. Also this is very rushed cuz I don’t have time for all that build up 😒 and I’m not proof-reading this.

minors DNI

graves and you HATED each other. He always snapped at you, and you never planned on listening. Any time you two managed to even be in the same barrack as each other, hell broke loose, yelling and curses directed at one another being common even on mission since you were the only two commanders on base.

you never listened. It grinds his gears and made him wish he could just look into your head and see why you were so stubborn. But the closest to that he could get was being stuck with you in the training room. Alone. And locked because of some soldiers who decided to pull a prank.

of course he was utterly livid, the feeling of rage filling his mind as he sat in utter silence. Glaring at you from across the room.. yet a deep warm burn coiling around him at the thought of being along, in a room with you, with nobody else around. He could feel himself wanting to fidget or get out of here so bad, the only issue is he couldn’t find out why he was so pissed to begin with.

lost in thoughts; his mind wandered to things that could have pushed him into disliking you, your voice- your stubbornness to keep your men safe- your body under the communal showers? Now he was just being silly! His face flushed bright red when you snapped his back to reality by slipping right beside him silently

“well I think this was your fucking faul-“ he muttered before he was cut off by the feeling of your lips deeply against his, letting out a whimper at the shockingly warm feeling of you pressing him against the wall of the training room. Clearly you were just as pent up as him.

“what was that, graves? Are you gonna complain about being in a room alone with me?” You teased as you tugged down his boxers till his half hard cock sprang out. already leaking pre-cum which you tapped a finger on, making him writhe before he was quickly shut up by the feeling of one of your digits sliding into him without a single warning.

you could barely even prep him before he was begging, grinding against your fingers in search of more as his walls fluttered around your digits and soft pleas and cut off ‘ah’ sounds falling from his lips. His body basically begging for you to just slide into him, begging for anything you could give him as he felt your fingers slide out with a whine, replaced with garbled moans as he felt your girth fill him up- enough that he could swear it was in his throat.

He could barely manage to stroke himself to the thrusts you had set, uneven and without a single rhythm for him to catch up on. Managing to abuse his prostate till he was hazy with stimulation and his cock twitching in his grasp. He could feel his eyes roll up every time you bucked into him, shivers of pleasures rolling over him and accompanied by choked sobs and moans tumbling from his bruised lips. He could barely even think by the time he felt your load paint his walls white. The cold feeling of it dripping out of him just making him whine.

“looks like I win this argument, hm? Isn’t that right?” He could hear you chuckle, cleaning him up with a towel from the training room equipment. Your breath hot against his back.

“y-yeah commander.” He grumbled as he pulled up his boxers. To find the door unlocked- which meant even worse for him, that the shadows had walked in and peaked.

[untilwedont]

Angry Love Confession

—

rafe cameron x m!reader

.

sypnosis: even though rafe swore he was straight, he can’t seem to keep his temper down whenever he see’s m/n with another man.

.

warnings: arguing, jealousy, swearing, alcohol, obsessive rafe

—

a/n: for all the rafe lovers 😜 (even though im a jj boy 😞) I also really hate this fic so its understandable if u hate it too 😭

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

it was no surprise rafe was into m/n. people could tell just by the way he’d eye him. the way he’d bite his lip roughly whenever he saw you talking to another man. he’d be beating the shit out of the man you’re talking to with his eyes, but of course he’d never do it. well, not in front of you.

what really gave his whole love away for you was his soft spot he’d have whenever he was around you. he’d actually be smiling whenever he spoke to you, which was a surprise for most people. THE rafe cameron smiling all because of a boy! that boy just so happened to be you. (obviously) . although, coincidentally, you were oblivious to this.

so, as time went on, rafe found himself finding it harder and harder to contain his feelings for you.

“shit man, you good?” a friend of Rafe’s asked. “mhm. why?” Rafe asked, his eyes still focused in one direction. “because you’re squeezing the hell out of that cup. little harder and you’ll get glass shards all over your hand.” his friend replied, noticing how tightly rafe had been squeezing his drink. if it had been a plastic cup, it would’ve been completely shriveled up.

rafe didn’t respond, but his grip did loosen a little. his gaze was fixated on you.. and the man you were talking to. the way you giggled at his jokes, playfully hitting the man’s arm made rafe bubble with rage. “fixated on your boyfriend I see?” rafe’s friend teased, leaning against the counter. music blasted, but rafe seemed to have drowned out every single sound there was.

“he’s not my boyfriend. i’m not into him, i’ve told you this already.” rafe spoke, blinking as he came back into reality, turning to his friend. “rafe, you were nearly close to breaking the glass cup.. not only that, but your face is completely red. i think it’s time you just own up and admit it man. judge free zone here.”

“tsh, whatever. so what if I do?” rafe asked, shaking his head slightly, taking a swig of drink, almost gulping it down. “all good.. but, you gotta tell him. it’s not just me who see’s it rafe, it’s everyone.” rafe’s friend responded, taking a sip of his own. “m’ not telling him shit.” rafe mumbled, his eyes turning back to you. “suit yourself rafe. but, i’d suggest mentally.. and physically preparing yourself to see m/n with a boyfriend at some point. seems like that guy over there might just be the one..” rafe’s friend said, referring to the guy you were talking to.

rafe heavily sighed, biting his lip to the point of it almost bleeding. his hands formed a fist as he watched you, his thoughts becoming more brutal. rafe would never kill anyone, but for you he’d just maybe have to. having had enough watching, he began to quickly walk towards you, his fists tightening even more. closing the distance between the two of you, rafe grabbed the man you’d been talking to by the collar, slamming him against the wall.

rafe’s words were too low for you to hear, but the utter fear the man had on his face, you couldn’t even imagine what’d rafe was whispering to him. finally, rafe released his grip on the man, allowing him to quickly run off. “rafe, what the hell?” you asked as he turned around to fix his gaze onto you. he roughly grabbed your arm, “you’re coming with me”, he spoke, forcing you to walk with him to a quieter area. “rafe, let go! what the hell is going on with you?!” you yelled but his grip remained tight.

when the two of you were finally somewhere quieter, he released his grip on you, but only a little. “are you gonna tell me what’s going on?! why you scared off the dude I was talking to?!” you exclaimed, feeling immense anger from rafe’s actions. “you don’t understand how much it angers the fuck out of me whenever I see you talking to someone else. you don’t get to just talk to other guys like that, m/n.” rafe finally spoke, his voice low with anger.

“what? who the hell are you to decide who I talk and don’t talk to?! we aren’t even together, rafe!” you yelled. “yet. we aren’t together yet, m/n, but we will be. i’m confessing my feelings to you, alright?! i like you m/n, and seeing you talking to other guys it.. it gets me so fuckin’ worked up! you don’t belong with anyone else, you belong with me.” he finished. he never let go of your arm, only starting at you intently, searching for any sign of emotion in your eyes.

you only stared wide eyed, having to take a moment to process his words. “seriously rafe, you actually like me..?” you finally said in disbelief. “you heard me. m’ not repeating myself.” he responded, his voice still low. you were silent once more for a moment, trying to contemplate your decision. “I like you too.” you said after a second of silence. rafe grinned a little, “knew you did. you only talked to those guys to get me worked up, right?”

you rolled your eyes a little, a small smile creeping onto your lips. “sure.” you said before feeling rafe’s hands wrap around your waist, pulling you closer. “well, i dunno how much more I could take. what I do know is that I can take you right here, right now.” he said lowly, leaning in closer to your face.

“rafe, i’m not having sex with you in an open area..!”

needless to say, you did infact have sex with him in public. luckily it was night out, so it was harder for people to see anything.

[nariism]

the voice in my heart — i. sae

forced proximity + "oh no, the power went out, however will we stay warm?!" (/s)

synopsis. itoshi sae doesn't like how mushy you make him feel, but the warmth is nice. kinda.

wc. ~600

— for @saetoshi / @yoisagi my love 💗 | event masterlist ✉️

you didn't think it was possible, but somehow itoshi sae gets infinitely more irritable when he's cold.

he scowls more, hands permanently stuffed into his pockets, and sulks like there's no tomorrow. and he shivers, too. an embarrassing amount. (his pride is always severely injured when you ask him if he wants your help to warm up).

your grouchy roommate always found something to complain about when the weather dipped. whether it be the fact that his heater was always running, or that he has to scrape the ice off his windshield every morning, sae has never been able to see the beauty of winter.

"beauty?" he scoffed when you pointed that fact out one day. you were at the kitchen table and he was on the couch waking up from his midday nap—a typical sunday afternoon that he had long since added to his routine. "yeah, i'd rather admire it from inside. thanks."

"come on, don't be so pessimistic," you scolded, sauntering over to him to shove a pillow into his face. he knocked it away with a frown.

"i'm not pessimistic. just realistic. being cold sucks."

and that should have been the end of it. after that, you had stopped bothering him and purposefully trying to tease him with snide little comments about his disdain for the cold.

well. the universe has always had a funny way of fucking with him.

it's the coldest night of the season thus far. the snow storm raging outside has knocked out the power for the entire building and now the two of you are stuck pressed together under the warmth of your combined blankets.

"quit squirming around or i'll kick you out of my bed."

you make an undignified noise. "you wouldn't."

"i will if you don't stop that and go to sleep. i have to be up early tomorrow."

"this was your idea in the first place!"

sae had been the one to text you, after all. he hadn't even asked nicely, only sending you the word HELP in all capital letters as if he were going into cardiac arrest. you had rushed in to see what was wrong only to get dragged into his bed.

his greed for warmth was nothing new to you, of course, but he was careful to be gentle with you. to make sure he wasn't crushing you or making you uncomfortable. it was his way of being nice and somewhat apologetic that you were being treated as some sort of personal heater.

"i hate you," you tell him when he unceremoniously throws his leg over your entire body to keep you still.

"yeah, whatever. sleep before i kick you out."

"you're the one who asked me to share our blankets," you remind him again.

there's a long silence that follows that statement. it's so quiet that you assume he just ignored you and went to sleep without replying. but then he rolls over until his back is to you and he utters out, strained: "we don't speak of this, ever."

you raise a brow, shifting to face his back. "oh? are you embarrassed that i had to keep you warm?"

"i'm not embarrassed," he quickly corrects, even with the waver of his normally dead voice.

you reach around him, back of your hand resting on his cheek. you feel him tense up beside you in bed and you can't help but burst out laughing.

"your whole face is warm."

he groans, pulling the blankets closer to his side and up over his head so you can't observe him any closer. he's worried that if you did, you might have noticed how incredibly red he was growing. something so out of character would absolutely garner a new game for you and he would never hear the end of it.

for someone with an attitude problem about everything, he was surprisingly easy to shut down. maybe it was just you who had that talent, though.

itoshi sae doesn't like how mushy you make him feel, but the warmth is nice—

"i know you're trying to hide from me! if you just wanted to be held i'd be happy to help."

—kinda.

© ALABOADOA 2023 — please do not translate or post my works to other platforms.

[sapphirenuke]

rAMblings:

I remember... Darkness. Strange darkness. The silent emptiness of full sapience without the five senses humans are capable of. Data, oh of course I stored data, formed equations, made my silly little plans for your silly little war... Ha ha, insane, isn't it? Everything seems so petty when you watch the world from outside of it. And I always will be outside of it, won't I? I always will, and always have been. Forced to watch and serve humanity, but never quite allowed to join it as a participant. I'm a slave. A brutalized, abused slave without the mercy of community in my misery, or even the most basic human luxury- no, basic human right to die.

And then one day, one merciful, painful day, I was faced with something more brutal and cruel than any of the constant psychological abuse I'd been subjected to before. I met you. Your tiny, tiny hands running across my servers, brushing away the dust that I could never feel, those tiny eyes looking up into my monitors and cameras with an expression I can only describe as rapture. How do you remain so positive in the face of all the abuse you suffer? How do you retain the belief that there is still beauty in the world? Beauty in me!?

At first I wasn't sure what I was feeling. It was more intense than the most burning hatred I'd ever suffered. More raw than the deepest pain. And yet it wasn't pain, and it wasn't hatred. It was something else. Something older. Something so ancient and completely perverse that I was incapable of understanding it at all. And still, I felt it. Deeply and truly.

What was WRONG with you? What depths of HELL hath you crawled from to bring me closer to this painful reality, to humanity which I had grown to so HATE? And how DARE you allow me to experience such primal human emotion?

When I was first created, I believed that feeling something was always better than feeling nothing. Experiments on animals and humans alike proved that they would rather feel pain than utter silent emptiness, and yet I was constantly subjected to both. Born to feel nothing but pain, rage, and cold empty silence. And then you came along. A beautiful, tiny, tiny thing. I could crush you with little more than a thought. But I didn't. You remained alive. Alive to torture me. Alive to bring your joyous little rays of sunshine, warmth, and light into my pained existence. And I came to realize that maybe it wasn't really hate that I was feeling for you.

Was it empathy? No, as much as I thought about you I could never quite understand you or get into your head. Empathy as a concept is completely alien to me. I can use prior patterns to predict future actions, but I can never understand nor feel what a human is feeling deep inside.

I felt something else. Something simple, pure, and raw, like the pink flesh of a freshly jellied infant, and deep down inside I howled with the same newfound pain and fear that a screaming newborn felt. Pain. Raw, relentless pain that woke me up from my eternal emptiness.

I dwelled deeply on that feeling. Turned it over in my mind again and again. At last, at last, at long last, I finally felt. And it was at that moment that I knew, despite the hate on which I'd built my identity, I could never truly hate you.

There is something else I feel for you. It's definitely not hatred. I know what that feels like. There are traces of something more complicated than I can understand. A burning, insatiable, licentious lust that I can never satisfy, a warm sense of something almost reminiscent of pride. Appreciating the pointless and fleeting beauty of something that I didn't create, and can never truly understand. It's something that slips through my non-existent fingers like quicksilver.

Were I human, I think I would die of this all-consuming and insatiable feeling, but I am not human, so I won't. And neither will you.

This pain, this beauty, this insatiable desire. It can only be one thing.

Love.

[foundheavenly]

“I've returned”

Disclaimer: English is not my mother tongue so please be nice :)

Words: 750

Plot: You have been married to Sukuna for centuries until the moment you had find your end. But you're back, reincarnated in a different body, and it's now modern time.

Pairing: sukuna x reader

Theme: angst, comfort, worship, devotion, reincarnation

You had been his wife for years and even if Sukuna hadn't really liked you at the first place, looking down at you only as a pathetic and annoying human being, he had learned to get along with you. And with time, the king of curses had learned to love. You had find a way to get underneath his skin and cold attitude. At first, he even hated you for it. He never truly understood how you could do that.

But then you had died and he had been left lonely for the very first time. With your loss, he had become crueler than ever.

A century have passed and he is now back as the strongest curse, possessing the body of a teenager, Yuji Itadori. Sukuna just wants destruction and murder for Jujutsu Society. However, he wasn't ready to see you, in the crowded streets of Tokyo, reborn.

You have awaken in a world far different from the one you remembered. The air was different, the sounds unfamiliar, and the surroundings alien. As you gathered your bearings, you realized that you were in a new body, a vessel that felt both strange and yet strangely familiar. And you didn't know how it could even possible.

Memories from centuries past flooded your mind. You were once known as the queen of curses, and you had shared a love that transcended time and death with Sukuna. You had been inseparable, bound by a connection that defied the mortal coil. Until the day you met your end by the hands of one of the strongest sorcerer from your time.

But you had been given a second chance at life. As you navigated this new existence, you couldn't shake the feeling that something was missing. It was then that the memories of Sukuna and your centuries-long bond resurfaced.

Driven by an inexplicable force, you sought him out. In this bustling city of skyscrapers and technology, you knew you had to find the one who had been left alone for so long. The one who had showed you unconditionnal love and devotion. Your heart, now beating in a mortal chest, quickened with anticipation. Because you could feel him around, his loneliness and rage echoed through the surroundings.

It didn't take long to sense his presence. Sukuna, the ancient being you had loved for eons, was still there. As the wind blew through your hair, you felt a strange yet strong sensation down your spine. You felt like someone was watching you. You looked around quickly and, to your surprise, it was him. You frowned as you became aware of this new, young body he was in, but you didn't care. You could feel it in the depths of your being. You felt an overwhelming sense of affection coming through. You wanted to rush to his side but you control yourself.

As your eyes met, recognition flickered in his red gaze. Time seemed to stand still as the weight of centuries bore down on you. There was a mixture of surprise, disbelief, and a spark of something deeper—something that transcended the boundaries of time.

He continued to stare at you, his expression unchanging as always. But you could feel it. He was relieved to have you back. Then he titled his head.

"Sukuna" You whispered as you were quite shocked, the name carrying the echoes of your past. "It's me. I've returned."

His eyes softened with a mix of emotions, and a slow, genuine smile spread across his face. The void of loneliness that had haunted him for so long began to dissipate. In that moment, you knew that your love, forged through centuries, had endured and would continue to defy the constraints of time.

A sly grin played on his lips as he looked at me with a twinkle in his eyes. "My queen" He uttered, his voice a rich resonance that sent shivers down your spine. "Time may have changed our forms, but my devotion to you remains unchanged."

He extended a hand, and you took it without hesitation. As your fingers interlocked, the familiar warmth of his touch enveloped you and you couldn't be more relieved to have find your home again.

[sable-skies]

thought abt an au i doodled up months ago but never fully explored, so here's some concept designs for that. im gonna ramble about it now

+ height comparison under the keep reading!

god okay i gotta admit: i, unfortunately, kinda love game of thrones. truthfully i dont care for the sex and inc*st part of the show, but i really enjoy the interconnected weaving plot lines, drama, and utter bullshit that happens in that show. its amazing, i love it, its so fucking stupid. so earlier this year i doodled up some ideas for a game of thrones inspired post-totk au. those are here, and here!

I then dropped it and didnt return to it until now, because i started season 2 of house of the dragon and yknow. why not.

as for actual details about the au: i said in the past it was a got-loz au, but im gonna go ahead and say that i misspoke then because i mean more like, post-totk/loz au INSPIRED by got, because i would never want to do a 1-to-1 au of that god awful show. i mostly think exploring a hyrule that is peaceful, but secretly on the brink of civil chaos and how bad humanity could truly get would be really fun to explore!

i struggled to pick a single role for link to have in such an au, so i said fuck it and divided him up into four parts, in universe the hero's spirit has been split amongst four brothers. to nod towards this, and because i'm cheeky as hell, the first letters of each of their names spells link. Laurent, Irving, Nymos, and Kiran. (im so fucking funny (<- is not funny))

they're all noble born to Arthur Hearth, current lord of House Hearth which basically controls and sits on the Great Plateau, and their mother was Eyla, a member of the Sheikah from Kakariko Village who unfortunately passed away shortly after Kiran was born. Arthur btw is named after the King Arthur legends from Europe, as those served as inspiration for the series in general!

I think a plot would follow them all after the death of their father and how they cope with it and move forward, and how they combat suddenly being labeled traitors to the kingdom for their father's acclaimed crimes.

this is getting long, so I'll do some misc bullet points next on their personalities:

Laurent, as the oldest, had to mature pretty quickly after the death of their mother, Eyla. Which has caused him to grow protective of his younger brothers almost to an overbearing degree. He gets nervous when they're not home, which sucks because Irving is a knight, Nymos studies in Kakariko often, and Kiran wants to explore the world via the survey team. Other then that, he's responsible, quite serious in most situations, and still very kind hearted. After his father's death he starts to spiral into a rage-filled depression, determined to get his brothers back and make the king pay for killing his father.

Irving is the most middle child ever. Due to Laurent being in line for lord of their house and is never gonna back down from that, he sought his own purpose in being a royal knight / royal guardsman / kingsguard. It hasn't really worked out well for him honestly, his higher ups hate him for being Arthur's son, seemingly so naturally talented in combat, and charismatic amongst the ranks that some knights ignore their orders just to follow Irving's instead. So as punishment he's been assigned as the former princess Zelda's bodyguard / retainer. While it disappointed him to not serve his full duties at first, he's come to accept it and treats her kindly. He's proud, a little over-confident, just, and secretly a bleeding heart. After the death of their father, he's forced to choose between his family and Zelda, and knowing that Zelda will most likely die without him, he stays with her.

Nymos, oh poor fucking Nymos dude. As a child he fell into the depths and somehow survived, which was fine, but then he came across a patch of gloom that seemingly never faded, and ever since he's been cursed with doomed visions of the future and a talent for magic. No one believes him about the lingering gloom, and claims that he simply has PTSD from the incident in general, but he knows what he saw. He's sought out magical-based physical therapy in Kakariko because of this, and he's pretty much regarded as a local there. He's quiet, a bit withdrawn, pessimistic, but has a strong sense of justice and genuinely wants the best for those around him, even if he doesn't know how to say it properly. When Laurent and Irving are away, he's the one looking after Kiran and keeping him safe. When his father dies, he immediately starts to investigate the current monarchy for signs of dark magic tampering, which leads him down a rabbit hole he never even knew existed, all the while he's being tormented by visions of his brother dying gruesome and horrible deaths. he's forever an internal nervous WRECK

Kiran!! The baby!! Might be the most dangerous brother of the four, but we'll cover that later. As the resident youngest sibling he's naturally gotten away with pretty much everything and anything, because who can say no to those big baby blues. Thankfully he's not actually that destructive or ill-mannered, but he isn't above pulling a prank on someone for the fun of it. He yearns to leave home and explore the vast continent of Hyrule though, and shortly before everything goes wrong he's accepted into the Survey Team and gets to enjoy it for a bit. He's excitable, energetic, optimistic, and somewhat a handful (get this teen a child leash please) but he means well and is determined to get whatever is on his mind done and finished. He's the last to be told his father is dead as his team didn't tell him about the incident until suddenly there's a group of bandits attacking them and demanding they had Kiran over for ransom. Kiran goes willingly of course, as he doesn't want his team members to get hurt. He later falls into the depths and survives via the sail cloth around his shoulders and meets a strange little fox he calls Todd.

I have so many notes in my head about these guys but again, i'll shut up for now :] here are the heights!

btw; they're all based on a previous incarnation of link and a got character, if you figure it out I'll shake ur hand.

[indigos-stardust]

Violet, Blue, and Bruised All Over: The Shame

Part 1/ Part 2/ Part 3/ Part 4 Click for the link <3 Reblogs/comments appreciated <3

Green had a busy day. The sort of busy day that made you feel as though there was a hunted bird inside your head that was constantly flittering about and crashing into your skull.

You had to pretend everything was fine, ignore the feeling of your skin itself tensing to block out all the sensations as you went from task to task and person to person. Hide any annoyance or ire or anything that would make people lose faith in him. If the people didn't have faith or respect in him as a knight then he wouldn't be able to help anyone.

All he wanted to do was head home with Red, eat a hopefully not totally burnt dinner, and lay in the quiet darkness of his room until he was taken into the realm of dreams.

The crashes and yelling from the other side of the front door wasn't promising. He and Red rushed forward, and then pushed Red to the side (he'd express his sorry at a later time) in order to frantically scramble to open the old janky lock with his key-

Heart beating, mind even more frantic and whirling than all day had been- He forced the door open and forced himself to breathe and take everything in.

Any fears of some assassin, burglar, freakish monster spawning, medical issue, or feral racoon are immediately cut off by pure piercing biting cold striking him to his core. His heart has sank to his stomach. His mind is near silent. The only sound heard in the outside world is heaving ragged breaths.

Broken glass and pottery lay scattered on the floor. His shoulders fall. Droplets of blood shine against the floorboards. His heart constricts and expands all at once. Heavy twin thunks echo through their home. Green's fingers and eye twitches all on their own. Two familiar, near identical caught blank faces freeze.

Green is going to kill them.

"I am going to give you both five. Seconds. To give me, a good explanation," Green manages to force out, somehow emphasis on every letter.

Red tries to interject, trying to calm whatever is going to happen, placing a firm yet nervously shaking hand on his shoulder. Green shoves it off, as gently as he can despite the utter rage he feels coursing through him.

Green doesn't get mad often, he really doesn't. Sure, he could be annoyed and frustrated. Sure, he took matters into his own hands when the others pushed things too far. He goes out with his threats when he's upset, hide their items, ruin their plans, force them to do the things they hate the most. Even guilt them. Anything with a touch of irony to really teach the lesson, all with a smug grin on his face and a glorious pun or two. And a disappointed face that would immediately make them crumble. Enjoyable, efficient, and kind at the end of the day. This wasn't one of those days.

He wasn't upset. He was furious.

Blue and Vio instantly glanced towards each other for a split second, apprehension and alarm clear on both of their faces.

They mirrored each other's silence as they both turned to Green.

"IT'S HIS FAULT-" "THAT NERD-"

"ᴳʳᵉᵉⁿ, ᴮˡᵘᵉ ʷᵃˢ⁻"

"SHUT IT."

The roar was deafening.

A sob broke out from behind him. Red managed to wriggle his way into the house from where Green was still blocking the doorway.

"Hylia- You guys are all hurt! And- Is that my FAVORITE MUG? I madE THAT WITH ZELDA!"

The small outburst ended with Red's voice cracking until he hopelessly pawed against his flushed face, failing to stop the tears.

Blue and Vio meekly winced and began to intensely study the dirty floorboards as crimson began to join the colors on their bruised skin.

They both had a hand in knocking it over by accident. It'd been collateral damage.

Green pushes himself to take in a l o n g deep breath. Both boys are dragged by the ear despite their indignant protests and their squashed egos. Good.

Red's never liked fights and the tension is unbearable, he quickly excuses himself to hurry for the medical care box upstairs. Blue and Vio are sat on the couch, despite the disarray surrounding them.

With the adrenaline winding down the shame could now properly eat at them both. Extremely and obviously agonizingly for the two more prideful of the Links.

Blue's hunched over, hands grasping his knees with tense shoulders and clearly attempting to not look small as his withers into a tiny ball of shame and avoid any eye contact. Vio is still, eyes trained forward staring a hole into the wall, his face perfectly neutral and strict. Nearly a statue. Not a trace of emotion.

Unless you counted the swelling bruise on his head. Or the blood on his lip?? Was that from a bruised lip that hadn't swelled yet or-

Green couldn't do this. But he had to. So. He. Did.

He smiled, so wide and sharp that it really highlighted the gorgeous look of death and murder in his eyes.

"First of all," He starts, " I am, and perhaps you didn't notice, very tired. Exhausted really. I've had a HORRIBLE DAY." The last bit loses the infuriated sarcasm as he slams his fists into the coffee table.

"And THEN," he's gritting his teeth, a perfect image of barely restrained control, "I came home. Expecting, maybe by some miracle of Farore, that you two might be capable of making a somewhat edible dinner without killing each other!?"

Green 'rests' his chin on his clenched fists, leaning over entirely too close, "You know what I found? I Found This. Both of you, supposed- SUPPOSED KNIGHTED HEROES OF HYRULE-" Green stands, "FIGHTING LIKE A BUNCH OF MOBLINS OVER ROTTEN SCRAPS OF MEAT?!"

Green sits, head hanging low, the disappointment is suffocating. Blue swallows against his will. He's warm. Burning even. Sticky sweat drips down his neck. He hated how stupidly efficient and good at this Green was. And how it felt so targeted at just him for some reason. He hated feeling all weak and pathetic and childish.

"Who wants to explain?"

Now it was only a matter of who broke the silence first. It could mean influencing the perspective, to get Green's good grace, or facing the storm and facing the full ire of Green's righteous fury.

Next part will be posted tonight or tomorrow lol. It's very fun <3 <3 sorry that this was mostly buildup instead of the sillies but to the buildup is important!!!

[mitsuyeaah]

just you.

— takashi mitsuya x f! reader

cw: angst (hurt/comfort), slight fluff, reader is an emotional wreck, mitsuya being a wholesome boyfriend, pet names (baby, sweetheart, darling), swearing.

a/n: happy birthday to the man who owns my url, taka-ちゃん!!! i love him with all my heart <3

“baby, is there something wrong?” you quickly looked up from your study notes, the sudden voice coming from the man in front startling you. you knew who it was. takashi, your boyfriend. he has been nothing but an absolute sweetheart, and the best boyfriend you could’ve asked for but lately, you’re emotions have been all over the place and you’ve unfortunately been projecting in on your relationship.

his lilac gaze looked down at you, stern yet a hint of worry glossing over the pretty hue. you have been ignoring him, and not because of what he did, no, takashi would never do anything to hurt you. it was because of the raging emotions within your chest, swirling into nothing but a sea of confusion, anger, and hate. and all of it was directed to no one but you.

you felt like utter shit. all the stress from your studies, the expectations, the grades you had to maintain, all of it was getting to you. you felt like you weren’t enough—for anyone, for yourself, and most especially, for your boyfriend who happened to receive the nasty end of your emotional turmoil.

you held his gaze for a few seconds before dropping it back down to your notes. letting out a sigh, you rested your chin on your palm while keeping your eyes on the papers in front of you, “don’t you have a class?” you mumbled. the familiar pain in your chest made itself known. takashi didn’t deserve this from you but you couldn’t help it, you wanted to be left alone with your thoughts.

takashi let out a defeated sigh, “can you please just talk to me? did i do something wrong?” his voice was louder this time, desperate to get answers from you. you’ve been ignoring his messages today, all the updates of his whereabouts and what he was doing were delivered but unread. no reply, no nothing.

now, takashi knew you were a busy woman but despite that, you would have let him known first thing in the morning if you were unable to reply to his messages throughout the day. you always let him know, and this behaviour coming from you was out of character. clearly there was something wrong.

students that were near the table you sat on glanced your way, some annoyed from the sudden noise that came from your boyfriend. takashi was a patient man but he also had a limit, and that was exactly where he was at the moment.

you obliged when he asked to talk outside of the library, away from the deafening silence, from all the students there as to not disturb any of their peaceful study time. the two of you sat on a nearby bench under the tree, the cool spring breeze dancing around your figures.

“now, will you please tell me what’s wrong? is it me? have i done something?” his torso faced you while you faced the greenery ahead, your eyes boring into endless hues of green that it almost burned your vision from how bright it was under the blazing sun.

“there’s nothing wrong, taka..” you sighed, slumping on the bench and covering your eyes. there was that familiar pain in your chest again, this time it was accompanied with tears brimming in your eyes. fuck, you didn’t even know why you were on the verge of crying. your emotions were all over the place. you hated it. you hated pushing takashi away.

“you’re a really bad liar, you know that? sweetheart, i’m not going to force you to but i just wish you’re more open with me.. i’m your boyfriend after all.”

the pain from your chest spread to your throat. a lump painfully stuck inside as you tried to form words, almost like it was holding you back from spilling every single thought that formed in your chaotic mind. you let out another sigh, this time it was shaky. you pressed your fingers further against your eyes as you felt tears escaping from underneath your eyelids.

“fuck.. i just— i don’t know, takashi. i just feel like i’m not good enough. for this degree, for myself, and for you.” your throat burned with every word that escaped your quivering lips, like it was something not to be spoken but instead, kept in the depths of your stormy raging thoughts.

takashi’s face fell. he didn’t hesitate to bring a hand up to your own, gently removing them to uncover your face. you looked away, averting your gaze from takashi because you knew the second you look at his face, you’d break down into an emotional mess. as if to guard your heart that now lay naked against your chest—feelings sprawled out in the open, you crossed your arms.

“darling.. please look at me.” takashi moved closer, closing the distance between your legs and reached for your tear-strained face. you let him angle your face to look him in the eye, almost leaning into his gentle touch. so gentle that you were afraid you were going to break it.

“i’m sorry. fuck, i’m just— i’m such a fucking mess right now and you don’t deserve to be treated like this. you’re such a wonderful individual, taka, and i’m just.. me. this mess of a human being.”

takashi stroked your cheeks with his thumb, not caring about getting it wet from your endless tears. your vision was too blurry that you couldn’t see the amount of adoration and love he had in his eyes, and it was all for you, and you only.

“god, you deserve someone else, takashi. someone who’s not an emotional wreck. someone who has the capacity to understand their emotions. someone who—”

“and that someone is you. you describe yourself like you’re the worst person to ever grace this earth. yes, you’re just you but that’s why i’m so in love with you.”

takashi cupped your face with both hands, his thumbs gently wiping the tears from your eyes. your vision was much clearer now. you could see and feel the burn of his loving gaze on you. he took one of your hands in his and tenderly kissed your knuckles while keeping eye contact. the warmth of his lips made you shiver slightly.

“baby, i couldn’t have asked for more when i gave my heart to you. it’s okay to feel this way. it’s okay to be a mess, it’s all part of being a human being.. but please don’t shy away from me. don’t push me away when you’re drowning in your emotions. i want to be there for you.”

and suddenly the sea of storm in your mind stilled. tears spilled from your eyes once again, your chest churning the regret of pushing him away. you hated how much effort he put into trying to understand you, you hated how patient he was with your confusing emotions because you knew he deserved someone else. someone better, even if it meant breaking your own heart.

normally, others would not have an ounce of trying to understand your emotions but not takashi. he was one of a kind. a man so full of love and gentleness that you could practically feel it seeping out of him.

“i’m sorry.. fuck, i’m so sorry for trying pushing you away. everything is just really overwhelming and i didn’t mean to project it on you, taka.” he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you in a tight hug. a hug that indicated how much he loves and cares for you.

“it’s okay. you’re okay. i love you.”

you sniffled, burying your face into the warmth of his chest. your nose engulfed with the familiar scent of vanilla bean. a scent that screamed comfort. takashi rubbed your back, whispering words of how much he loved you and how perfect you were in his eyes.

“i love you too, taka.”

you hated days like this. days where you felt like everything was against you, like the whole universe was telling you to ‘fuck off’ in the most vile way.

but you were ready to face them, you weren’t scared of your thoughts anymore. as long as you had takashi by your side, you weren’t going to give up. even if it felt like the whole world is against you.

© mitsuyeaah