#even if they don’t always understand the deep themes they don’t deserve to be receiving overly dumbed down versions of things

[scratxhed-cd]

do I feel childish watching an animated show for children? Absolutely.

Did seeing the heavily implied rarijack heal my inner pre-teen? Yes and it was worth it.

[satansapostle6]

The Man Who Sold The World | Luke Castellan

Spotify Playlist Link

Katherine. She was the one who started it all for Luke Castellan, the reason he did what he did.

Warnings: Mature themes/language. Violence. Smut. Switch dynamic. Praise. Rough sex. Oral(both receiving). Slight choking. Overstimulation. Spitting. Blood. Minors DNI.

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine: Coney Island Baby

After their return from Hades, Luke and Katherine slept for an entire two days. They were exhausted beyond understanding. It had taken Luke a while to readjust to mortal luxuries, like time and space.

Luke eventually woke one morning to sunlight pouring in through the window, a welcome improvement from their time in the Underworld. Katherine slept beside him in their shared bed, and all was well at the moment. He knew to relish in the present calmness, as it naturally wouldn’t last.

He was happy to wake up without anywhere they had to go, or a nightmare to recover from. Luke was pretty sure he’d had a nightmare some time in the first few hours of sleeping, but eventually, so much time had passed he’d since forgotten them. He laid in the hotel bed with his feet curled into his body as Katherine faced him, mirroring his body language.

“You okay?” she asked softly, a smile on her face for what felt like the first time in forever.

He nodded, genuinely able to mirror that smile. “Yeah. I’m okay. I feel a lot better.”

“Me too,” Katherine nodded. “I feel like the Underworld really fucked us up.”

“Yeah… I guess we have more to be haunted by than most people.”

“We should do something fun,” she sighed, “And not be miserable for once.”

“I think… that’s a really good idea,” Luke decided, his voice still deep from exhaustion. “I’ll take you wherever you wanna go.”

“Really?”

He nodded. “Mm-hmm.”

“I wanna go to Coney Island,” she said slowly. “I’ve never been. I wanna know what Lou Reed was talking about.”

“Okay,” Luke agreed, not needing any further reasoning. “Coney Island it is.”

It felt great to the both of them waking up at 2 PM. As Luke finished his shower, towel still wrapped around his waist, he heard Katherine speaking, but couldn’t hear the words. Opening the bathroom door, he emerged with wet hair.

“What’s that?”

Standing coquettishly against the wall, in only an oversized shirt that he’d lent to her, she didn’t bother to hide the grin on her face as she spoke.

“What should I wear?” she asked.

This was a question Luke never expected from Katherine. He’d always felt that she was a very confident sort of person, the kind of person who just always woke up knowing exactly what they wanted to wear. If anything, he would’ve thought she’d tell him what to wear.

“…What do you want to wear?” he asked, not wanting to overstep any boundaries.

“I don’t know. Something I wouldn’t usually wear,” she admitted. “Something you can’t find somewhere that sells fishing bait.”

“What do you like?” Luke asked, genuinely curious what she actually liked that wasn’t leather jackets or jeans.

“I don’t know,” Katherine admitted. “…Should I wear a skirt?”

“If you want to, yeah,” he nodded, kind of flustered. “That’d look nice.”

“Alright,” she shrugged, still looking at him even though the conversation had come to a conclusion.

Luke watched as her eyes slowly trailed downward, chuckling as he put his hands on his hips.

“What you looking at?” he asked.

“Your face,” she smiled innocently, crossing her arms as she met his gaze.

“That’s not my face.”

“Oops,” she shrugged, wandering off as he just shook his head.

Luke truthfully wasn’t really sure what was going on with Katherine, but he didn’t really question it. They were both having fun. He figured eventually, he’d figure out if she would be a friend, girlfriend, or something in between.

He decided to put on his nice brown leather jacket and a dash of cologne, putting in the effort that he felt someone like Katherine deserved.

“You ready?” he called, car keys in hand.

“Yeah,” she called, slowly coming out of the bathroom after putting on her makeup.

Luke had almost forgotten she was one of the prettiest girls he’d ever seen. She had the softest skin, the prettiest lips, and long, shiny hair. She was wearing a long-sleeved shirt, and what he could only describe as one of the shortest denim skirts he had ever seen, along with a pair of heeled leather boots.

He could smell her perfume, and it made him feel lightheaded with ecstasy.

“How do I look?” she asked, already knowing the answer.

“Like I’m gonna have to win you every stuffed animal they’ve got,” he said proudly.

He playfully threw his arm around her as they climbed into the Pontiac and headed for Coney Island.

“I’m gonna tell people you’re my boyfriend so they get scared you’re gonna beat the shit outta them,” Katherine said as she put on her lip gloss on the car.

“I’m gonna tell people you’re my girlfriend so they think I’m really cool,” Luke smiled.

For once, the voices in his mind were quiet. There was no screaming, and no pain or guilt. All he thought about was how much he really, really liked Katherine as they sang along to Smashing Pumpkins in the car. Wandering around Coney Island and going on the roller coasters with her was enough to make him forget about being anything more than a person.

For the first time in his life, Luke didn’t have to do anything. He wasn’t too busy saving the world to realize that his world might just be someone else.

As he watched Katherine genuinely laughing and smiling, he felt he didn’t deserve the chance to see it. It was so unusual to him, seeing her enjoying herself. It definitely felt strange that it was being with him that made her enjoy herself. But he loved every minute of it, whether it was exploring with her, or sitting next to her on rides, or standing behind her in lines so that she could live in peace.

“Oh, look. A basketball game,” Katherine pointed out.

“You wanna play?” he asked her.

“No, I wanna watch you play,” she grinned.

“Okay,” he sighed jokingly, “Which one do you want?”

“Surprise me.”

Luke examined the wall of various sizes of stuffed animals, trying to decide which one he liked the best. Eventually, he settled on a tiger, because in a strange way, Katherine reminded him of one. It didn’t take long for him to make enough baskets to win one. He’d gotten just about every single one, which Katherine admittedly found attractive in him as she picked at the pink cotton candy he’d decided to get for them.

Luke turned around with a goofy grin as he showed off the stuffed tiger he’d won for her. Laughing happily, Katherine excitedly jumped into his arms as he caught her instinctively, stunned and touched by the gesture. Luke gladly spun her around in a circle as he allowed her to wrap her legs around him, the two of them fitting in with the families around them surprisingly well.

Katherine pulled away as Luke held her in his arms, throwing her own arms around his neck as she went in for a big, romantic kiss in the middle of the boardwalk. In that moment, the one thought swimming around in Luke’s head was that he really had been to hell and back with this girl.

Neither of them were in any rush to pull away. The kiss ended very slowly as they separated, only to see one another’s smiles.

“I’d kill for you,” Katherine whispered, giggling as they seemed entirely wholesome to the people around them.

“I’d die for you,” Luke reminded her, setting her back down on the ground. “And. You deserve all the tigers in the world.”

She eagerly accepted the gift, taking the animal as she made it face him, playfully snapping her teeth in a joking bite as he admired her.

“Thank you. For today,” he told her.

“Why are you thanking me?” she asked.

“Because, you let me see you smile,” Luke stated simply.

“I’ll let you see it even more if we can ride the roller coaster again,” she incentivized.

“Again? I’m gonna throw up,” he groaned.

They had spent almost all of their waking hours at Coney Island before they decided to go. Luke certainly didn’t mind driving as he watched Katherine blissfully do nothing for once.

“So, what do you wanna do?” he asked her readily. “Today’s about you.”

“Wanna keep the fun going?” she asked, a mischievous grin on her face.

Luke raised an eyebrow skeptically. “Why? What’ve you got in mind?”

“Let’s find a dive bar,” she suggested, an array of ID’s in hand. “I’ll kick your ass at pool.”

“You’re on,” he accepted.

Playing pool with Katherine while they each had a beer at a dive bar would’ve been fun, if it weren’t for the men in the room. Luke wasn’t sure if it was how much he cared about Katherine, or how he felt he owed her for completing Ares’s ‘quest’, or just common decency, but he wanted to gouge out every wandering eye in the room.

It was all he could think about as they played and drank. He knew it was ridiculous, because Katherine could easily kill everyone in the room probably better and faster than he could, but he still wanted to ‘defend her honor’, or something. Perhaps he just wanted to murder anyone who looked at her the wrong way.

He knew she could sense it. She knew why he stood right behind her every time she leaned over the pool table to take her shot. But, what he didn’t know, was that she took pleasure in the way he would lightly brush up against her. The tension definitely made several hours go by pretty quickly.

“Hey, Katherine?” he said, wanting to be serious for a moment.

“Hmm?” she looked up.

“I, uh… I know we moved past it, but… I just wanted to apologize for the way I treated you that night. With Ares,” Luke reminded her. “I should’ve told you how grateful I was to you, for what you did.”

“You don’t have to,” she promised him, knowing it was bound to come up sooner or later. “I know.”

“Okay,” he nodded, feeling less guilty.

“Alright,” she smiled, taking his hand in hers as she squeezed it for reassurance.

“For the record,” Luke purred, leaning down and whispering softly in her ear. “I wish I could’ve killed them myself.”

She looked up at him in surprise, feeling as if Tartarus had changed him.

“You deserve that much,” he told her, lightly brushing a stray strand of her hair behind her ear.

“That’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me,” she remarked.

“You want another drink?” he asked, cautiously glancing behind her at the man leering as he sat at the bar.

“Why don’t we go back?” she suggested.

“Sure. You go out to the car, I’ll just be a second,” Luke told her.

Katherine took the car keys from him and disappeared as Luke headed to the bar, crossing his arms as he approached the man who had been hungrily eyeing her for the past hour.

“Hey,” he said, his tone rather confrontational.

“Hey,” the man grinned in response, not perceiving a single reason as to why Luke could be angry with him. “Quite the hottie you got there. What an ass.”

Luke made a face, at both the comment and its unfortunate phrasing, watching as the man’s friend seemed to also think it was somehow cool. Not appreciating the lack of common decency, Luke heard a voice in the back of his head that just said ‘fuck it’. He snapped and pulled a folding knife from his pocket, holding it inches from the man’s face as he slammed it onto the bar.

Everyone around him stopped, not quite sure how they wanted to react to the situation yet. Luke calmly held the knife to the man’s face as both he and his friend panicked.

“Ah! What the fuck?!” the man hissed, his face smashed into the table.

“Yo, we don’t want any trouble!” his friend blurted out drunkenly.

“Talk about my girlfriend like that, and I’ll cut your fucking tongue out,” Luke threatened, waiting for him cry.

Not having anything else to add, the man nodded quickly, begging Luke not to hurt him as he roughly shoved him, leaving the bar as everyone, including the bartender, just watched, fully aware that calling the police to that particular establishment would just be bad for business.

Luke eventually joined Katherine in the car, climbing into the driver’s seat as she looked at him calmly.

“You okay?” she asked coolly.

“More than,” he assured her, feeling as if he’d done his part. “Also, we can’t come back here.”

“Okay,” Katherine shrugged, fully aware of what must’ve happened.

Luke started the car angrily, starting to wish he’d followed through on his promise. She could definitely tell the mood he was in.

“I bet it was really hot,” she said finally, “Watching you make that guy squirm.”

Luke stopped, turning to look at her as he knew exactly what she wanted.

“That’s nothing. You should see me make you squirm.”

That was what did it. Never before had Luke ever seen two eighteen year-olds more determined to do anything. It was practically a race back to the hotel. Luke had to fight every urge to carry Katherine through the hotel lobby, elevator, and hallway. As soon as the door closed behind them and Luke’s jacket was thrown off, it was a free-for-all.

Katherine jumped into his arms, kissing him passionately as she felt his strong arms wrapped around her. He sighed heavily into the kiss, high on her scent as he set her back down on the ground.

“Are you sure?” Luke asked her, searching within her eyes.

“I’ve never been more sure about anything,” she promised him.

That was all he needed to know. They all but slammed into one another in a messy kiss, his tongue driving her insane. She helped him pull his shirt over his head, gasping lightly as she felt his cold hands underneath her skirt, kneading her skin, hard.

“I want your thong in between my teeth,” Luke said suddenly.

Katherine sighed. “I love ADHD sex.”

Her hands slowly ran all the way down his bare chest as he kissed her, still playfully groping at her ass.

“You don’t have to be so gentle,” she teased.

“Neither do you,” he promised her.

He slid her skirt down her legs in one swift move, watching, aroused, as she got down on her knees to get his pants off. She patiently pulled down his briefs, her response to which could only be described as a greedy gasp.

“I don’t fucking deserve you,” he gasped, his hand slowly combing through her hair.

Grinning up at him, Katherine’s eyes darkened as she only opened her mouth, tongue just barely sticking out as she silently told him what to do.

“Oh fuck, I could die right now,” he groaned.

He slowly inserted himself into her mouth, gasping at the sensation. His pace gradually picked up as he held onto the back of her head, thrusting as fast as she wanted him to. She looked up at him coolly, eyes calm and serene as he fucked her face, thrusting so hard he was surprised she didn’t choke or cry at all. She didn’t even seem fazed; she was enjoying it wholeheartedly. Luke groaned, enjoying every second of it.

“Fuck, your mouth feels so good…”

He hardly even felt the need to contain his excitement. But eventually, he couldn’t wait anymore. Pulling out of her mouth, Luke grabbed her by her face, pressing a hard, wet kiss to her lips as he forcefully pried her mouth open and spit in it roughly, gulping as she looked him in the eyes as she swallowed. He could’ve fallen in love right then and there.

“You’re so fucking nasty, I love it,” he said in a low drawl.

Katherine loved that he didn’t care if kissing her after she’d had his dick in her mouth was disgusting. She mounted him eagerly, chuckling as he impatiently started grinding against her as she peeled off her undergarments.

Before she could, Luke aggressively flipped her over, grinning in an animalistic fashion as he pinned her down, nipping at her neck as he made his way down her body.

“Fuck,” she gasped.

She pulled, hard, on his hair as his veiny hands pawed at her breasts, not sparing her the pain as he took each of her nipples between his teeth, encouraged by her pulling his hair. He whined hungrily as he moved downward, positioning himself between her legs as he dug his fingers into the soft skin on her thighs.

Luke hungrily bit down on her hip bone as she laughed maniacally. He bit down on her thong, slowly pulling it down with his teeth before taking it off.

“You’re a fucking goddess,” he moaned, burying his face in between her legs with greed as he just breathed her in for a moment. “I’d do anything for you. Fuck me, you’re so wet.”

Katherine sighed as he suddenly latched his mouth onto her clit, roughly massaging her hips as he strategically overstimulated her.

“Fuck!” she hissed, giving his hair a harsh tug as he moaned into her, tongue still lapping at her insides. “I’m gonna rip you apart!” she vowed in anger.

He pinned her down to the bed by her his, grunting crudely as he ate her out. He wouldn’t let anything interrupt him.

“Wrap your legs all the way around. Fuck my face. Let me make you come on my face,” he ordered impatiently, sighing into her as she sucked him into her.

He felt as if she were some sort of violent ocean that he couldn’t help but get sucked into. He flicked his tongue faster and faster, groaning as he felt her thighs shaking around him. His head was completely trapped, not that he even cared. He stayed out, attacking her with his tongue until he felt her finish. Even as she got even wetter, he didn’t stop, reveling in his accomplishments as she pulled on his hair.

He looked up at her, eyes wide and locked on her as she glared at him. When he was finished, he didn’t waste a second. Flipping her over and manhandling her like a rag doll, he made it so that they were both sitting up on the bed, as he slowly buried himself in her, as she still came, losing his mind.

He held her close to him by softly holding onto her throat, his big hand wrapped around her neck for balance. This was essentially his love language.

“Fuck, Luke! Holy shit!” she gasped, feeling how long it took for him to completely bottom out. “Luke…!”

“That’s it,” he groaned, squeezing his eyes shut as he lost himself in her, “Let everyone know my name… Please, Katherine, please,” he begged her.

She gasped as he picked up the pace, his cold hand on her neck somehow making her chest feel even hotter. He slammed into her harder and harder, making her groan as she impatiently pulled away from him, lying down as she pulled him down on top of her, kissing him hard.

“I wanna see the stupid fucking look on your face while you fuck me,” she hissed.

“Katherine!” he cried out, almost collapsing on top of her as he lovingly kissed all over her neck. “Fuck. You’re everything.”

“I’m gonna fucking destroy you,” she cooed mockingly as she shoved his face into her neck, her hands resting on his back.

“Go ahead,” he pleaded, “Make me yours. Fucking destroy me, just use me…!”

He moaned loudly as he penetrated, trying to control himself as felt her fingernails digging into his back. He nearly screamed like some sort of horror movie character as she clawed her fingers down his back so hard she started to draw blood.

Luke huffed excitedly as he thrusted in and out of her, completely burying his face in her chest.

“Shit!” he gasped. “Oh…”

He cried out, overstimulated as she scratched up and down his back. He knew there was blood dripping, but hardly even thought about it. He didn’t want to finish yet, but he also knew that he was enjoying being with her too much to really do anything about it.

“It’s okay baby,” she promised him, one hand playing with his hair. “Just come. Come for me,” she whispered.

“Tear me apart!” he hissed. “Fucking destroy me!”

He felt himself fuck like he never fucked before. He thrusted in and out of her so hard, she saw splotches of black as she dug her nails into his muscular back. She sighed as he kissed the side of her neck, refusing to stop worshipping her with affectionate little kisses. Just as he felt her getting so wet he knew she must’ve came again, he moaned softly as he braced himself.

“Luke,” she whispered, mouth agape as he kept going.

“Fuck, that’s so unfair, don’t say my name like that,” he whined.

Reaching a shared climax unlike anything either of them had ever felt before, he pulled out, coming all over her bare stomach with her nails still digging into his back. Panting hard, he collapsed on top of her, continuing his worshiping as he kissed all over her neck.

“Katherine, you’re so beautiful,” he gushed. “You’re a fucking goddess. I don’t deserve you. I love the way you hurt me,” he moaned, falling on top of her.

She appreciated the way he put his full weight on her, sighing in exhaustion as she worked her fingers through his hair. There was come and blood kind of everywhere, but to both of them, it seemed to feel right. That’s what they were together, just come and blood.

“I think I’m in paradise when I’m with you,” she murmured.

“I’d come in my pants if you told me you hated me,” Luke confessed, flipping over beside her to give her some room to breathe.

Sitting up, Katherine momentarily excused the come on her lower stomach as she looked at the old digital alarm clock on the bedside table.

“It’s 7:23,” she told him, her voice still breathy as she realized it was already light out.

“What time did we get in?” Luke asked in confusions staring up at the ceiling.

“I don’t know, 11:48?” she approximated.

“Shit,” he breathed, thinking hard. “Did we just fuck for seven hours?”

“Yeah,” she nodded, “I think so.”

Luke had forgotten that he was a demigod.

-

Chapter Ten

[hyunholights]

SKZ as the seven cardinal sins

content: smut, dni if under 18, dark themes, yandere themes, unprotected sex - proceed with caution; tw listed separately for each sin/member, but most are noncon - all of them are toxic in some way

idols: SKZ OT8 x afab reader

wordcount: 1350

a/n: this is my first post on this blog and i can't believe it's a dark & yandere drabble! i'd be happy to write longer fics for any of them if anyone wants me to and i'd be curious to hear your opinions on whether the members fit with each sin (some have been more of a struggle to place than others)!! smut under the cut

Pride - Chan (dubcon/noncon, rough oral m. receiving, dacryphilia)

You’re his trophy. He loves you on your knees, makeup and tears running down your face as you’re struggling to take him in your mouth, lips tightly wrapped around his length. The more you whimper and moan the better it feels for him when he relentlessly pushes down your throat.  

He knows you want it. And who wouldn’t want to choke on Bang Chan’s cock?

Even when you said you weren’t in the mood for sex, he knew you were just playing coy, weren’t you? You’re playing hard to get so you can get him even more worked up. He’s sure you’re soaking wet already only from sucking his cock. So he shoves it in all at once, and your cries are music to his ears as he thrusts in you from behind, deep and hard, splitting you open on his cock. You love it, how couldn’t you? It’s him after all.

Greed - Hyunjin (noncon, noncon filming, drugging)

You’re so beautiful, splayed on his bed in that luxurious lingerie set he bought you. There’s no harm in this, right? It was just a bit of powder in your drink - you’ll wake up later none the wiser and he’ll get to capture these images for posterity. 

And well, he’ll be sharing them on that onlyfans account he created that you know nothing about. There’s no harm in it, is there?

There’s nothing wrong with wanting a bit of extra cash. How did you think he’s able to afford all the vacations, the expensive clothes and perfumes he buys you? All he does is for you, but he knows you wouldn’t get it. No one gets it.

Your whimpers are soft when he slides in his lubed cock and you don’t move as he fucks into you, as he grabs and gropes at your breasts and hips, twisting your nipples beneath his fingers. He pulls out just as he’s about to cum, painting your tits and stomach. He would’ve finished inside, but that’d be a bitch to clean up. Plus, the pictures wouldn’t look as good.

Lust - Felix (cheating)

He’s sure you’d understand. She is gorgeous and so incredibly sexy, he has to have her. Not that you’re not gorgeous, don’t misunderstand, he’s never seen a more beautiful and perfect woman than you, but she’s just different. And it gets his dick so painfully hard, the way her touches feel foreign on his skin and how her perfume is one he never smelled before, and the way she says his name is so unlike you.

You can’t expect him to just look and not touch when she is just so needy and willing. He’s only a man.

So he sinks into her body torturously slowly, enjoying the way his cock spreads her walls and how wet her cunt is for him. His eyes are fixed on her face as she cums, back arching and toes bending in the throes of pleasure. He’s enthralled. But he knows he’ll forget about her tomorrow when he comes back home to you. He always does, he loves you after all.

Envy - Jeongin (noncon, virginity)

What does your boyfriend have that Jeongin doesn’t? He is perfect for you. He brings you flowers on your birthday and he walks you home from your nights out. He listens to you, takes care of you. And you still went and got together with that guy. 

He is going to prove to you just how big of a mistake you made. Your boyfriend doesn’t deserve a girl as perfect as you are.

When he finally tells you how he feels, you invite him inside to sit down and talk. You tell him he should’ve known you can’t accept his confession, not now when you were in love with your boyfriend. 

Left with no other choice, Jeongin decides that if he can’t have you, then he’ll ruin you for your boyfriend, you were still a virgin after all. You cry and struggle as he rips the clothes off of you, fingers shoved in your mouth to shut you up, body pinned under his weight. He preps you though, he doesn’t want it to be bad for you. One finger and then another, scissoring them as he feels your walls loosen - he’s a gentleman after all. 

You’re just too stupid to understand, if you hadn’t rejected him, none of this would’ve happened.

Gluttony - Changbin (noncon, somno)

He can’t help it. He woke up with his cock throbbing and his fist just can’t do the job properly. He didn’t get a chance to talk to you about this yet, still he’s pretty confident you wouldn’t be opposed to it. You always tell him how much you love the way he fucks you.

Your gummy walls wrap around him in just the right way, no cocksleeve or hand could ever compare to the warmth of your inviting cunt.

He’s careful not to wake you as he takes off your underwear and positions himself, light touches and lube make sure there will be no pain. He slides in and you stir, but you’re still asleep. And you’re still sleeping by the time he fills you up with cum. But looking at your innocent expression as his seed leaks from your hole only serves to harden his cock once more. He’d be lying if he said it didn’t turn him on, having you helpless in his grasp, taking all he gives you without an ounce of protest. 

His cock slips so much easier now and he can’t help picking up the pace, fucking you faster and faster as he chases his high. He opens his eyes and sees you, eyes wide staring back at him just as he fills you up with cum. 

Wrath - Minho, Seungmin (dubcon, spit, breathplay/choking, scratching)

You are such a pain sometimes. You almost never listen to him and you always have a smartass remark to return to whatever he says. Why do you have to go and ruin your pretty face by opening your mouth? 

Sometimes he thinks that you see it all as a game.

He yells and you spit in his face telling him he can’t talk that way to you. It only serves to anger him more, he can’t have you act that way. 

So he pins you to the wall, fingers clasped around your throat as he opens your mouth and spits right back. Your eyes are still defiant, nails scratching every bit of skin you can reach, struggling to get out of his grasp. Why is his cock straining his pants?  He curses as he reaches inside your panties with his free hand, rubbing your clit as your panting turns to moans and slick covers his fingers, your contempt momentarily forgotten. The grip on your throat tightens and you can feel yourself getting lightheaded as the waves of pleasure wash over your, dark eyes locked on your helpless ones.

Sloth - Jisung

He feels your hands trace his skin as you plant kisses on his jawline. You can be so needy and annoying sometimes. Can’t you see he’s trying to watch something? So he pushes you away, turns off his phone, and closes his eyes pretending to take a nap, anything to get you off his case for a few minutes.

That is until you give up and leave the room, door closing behind you with a thud. He’ll deal with that later.

It’s not that he doesn’t want to fuck you, you’re hot and you managed to turn him on even now. He loves you and enjoys your body, but it’s so much of a bother having to take care of you, making sure you cum before he does. Sometimes you even want to cuddle after. 

Taking a peek at the bedroom door to make sure it’s closed, he turns his phone back on, volume low as he now watches a pretty girl bounce on a disembodied cock. His own dick twitches, hand fisted around it and pumping relentlessly until cum spills on his stomach. He wipes the mess on the inside of his pants and closes his eyes. Now he can take a nap in peace.

[slightlystupidhun]

Comforting My Confrontations-

Pt.1, Pt.2

Summary: Why would Darlin stay when it is made extremely clear they aren’t wanted? Warning: does contain confrontation, feelings and mention of anxiety, and themes of isolation.

Tanker, was a nickname given to them by their pack mates when they were teenagers. With how reckless they always seemed many believed they lived up to the names meaning. Just barreling through everything, waiting for the wall to finally break them.

In light of recent events that went on in the past year and a half, many of their pack mates were proven right. They had, once again, tried to barrel through a problem and put pack members in danger. When they first returned the glares and lectures they got seemed fitting to them. They believed they deserved it. However, no one was looking at what they did, what they meant to do. Sure they were going out to get revenge, but they kept it all a secret to attempt to keep their pack safe. Besides, it’s not like many of them reached out to them anyway.

Tanker had received consistent messages from David and Marie, checking in on them and seeing how they were doing, most of the time without getting a proper reply or even a reply at all. Milo and Asher would give updates on pack drama or inquire about how they were healing. After a while their messages also became less frequent. The other pack members texted Tank maybe once or twice after they left. They didn’t have any right to be reading them the right act about pack being family.

It was about two months since they returned now. The Quinn situation was quieting down but still at the forefront of the packs worries. Tank felt heavy waves of anxiety whenever the vamp was mentioned. The idea of more people being involved and at risk put them on edge. They felt like a heavy burden that David was obligated to.

Luckily for them, they had Sam. He has been their rock and someone who they desperately needed. He understands them and doesn’t press them for answers. He comforts them and gives them time and space. If he was at the pack meeting that Tank was about to walk in on he would hold their hand and walk with them into the stuffy room. They would feel calm and at ease. Unfortunately, he wasn’t their, so they got off their motorcycle and shoved their helmet on the handle bar. Quickly grabbing the bag of sweets they bought for everyone, they took in a deep breath preparing themself for whatever today would bring.

They gripped onto the door knob turning it open before they could back out. They began their walk passed the front room and down the hallway. When they were about to enter the dens meeting room, they froze. They could hear commotion as one of the pack members they didn’t know very well was yelling. He was always one of those members who would glare at them and make snide comments under his breath. The few times Sam went to the meeting, Darlin had to grip his hand tighter just to get him to calm down. Right now, however, he was pulling no punches and they could see him standing just a foot away from David Shaw, yelling at him.

“Their dangerous!” He yelled. “How could you let someone like that be associated with the pack! They are no good and have never been good!”

“That is my job to decide not yours Pablo,” David stared the man down.

“Well it might as well be. I mean, you aren’t using your head here David. Don’t you remember how they were as a teenager?!”

“Hey Man maybe you should calm-“ Asher chimed in as he saw Tank standing in the middle of the doorway to the room.

“ I thought they were getting better but no, they are still fighting with the same crowd and bringing the pack back in danger. They’re tanking our reputation. I don’t get why you insist on having them here. They’re gonna be the death of all of us.”

“PABLO-“ David yelled, anger souring his tone but he was quickly distracted by the sound of a bag dropping to the floor. The entire pack turned to look at the door frame, finally noticing the shifter standing there. They tightened their hands into fists and they pivoted on their heel, walking back down that hallway, bag of sweets now long forgotten. “Tank-“ David called getting no response as they opened the door and slammed it shut.

They felt cold and angry. They were getting better, they knew it, David knew it, Sam knew it. Everyone should know they are nothing like how they were, even three years ago. The audacity of their pack member got to them. Once again they felt isolated, unwanted, and angry. They felt foolish for letting anyone back into their life. They were an idiot for believing they could be a part of the pack.

They pushed their helmet on their head and started their bike when they heard quick footsteps behind them.

“Tank- Tanka hold on-“ it was Milo Greer, probably their best friend in the pack. He ran over beside the bike but was unable to get them to stop. They just wanted out and to leave. They didn’t need another lecture, another reason to forgive and forget. Not wanting to be around anyone from the pack they quickly pulled out and left, leaving Milo in the parking lot behind them.

Their phone was going off with messages and calls. They could feel it in their pocket but didn’t care to check what was happening. They just drove, needing to clear their head. That’s when it started raining. They knew it would come. They could smell it. They loved the rain. It was calming, cool, and rejuvenating. It was something that gave them a sense of nostalgia. The only issue was the rain made riding their bike ten times harder. They were an excellent driver, sure, but the rain made it hard to see and made the roads slippery. Then there was the added pressure of their pack of their mind. They couldn’t focus on one thing or another. It was all colliding with another thing. The rain, the lights, the thoughts, the sounds, the smells. It was overwhelming and they couldn’t breathe. They couldn’t focus, that was until a bright light came out of nowhere, causing them to swerve out of the way to miss it.

They quickly lost control of the bike, and went over the edge of the small hill the road was on. They landed in some shrubbery and just laid there. The wind was knocked out of them and no doubt they were going to be bruised as hell tomorrow. Not to mention that the way the bike tipped over left a burn on their ankle that was now more than likely fractured. They huffed as they got up, propping their bike up examining the work that needs to be done. They realized that they were around two streets from their apartment and their bike wouldn’t make the ride. Deciding to walk back, they gripped the handle bars of their bike and pulled it all the way to their apartment.

They arrived back at their apartment building leaving their bike in the spot they usually parked it. They headed upstairs to their apartment and quickly got into the shower. Once they finished they changed their clothes and grabbed their phone out of their now out of use pant pocket. They saw fourteen calls and thirty one texts from David Shaw 🖕🐺, Thirteen missed calls and twenty eight texts from Ash 🤡🐶, Eight missed calls and eighteen texts from Shorty 🖕🤌, and five missed calls and two texts from Cowboy Batman 🤠🌙. They were about to click on the messages from Sam when there was a knock on their door.

[xxdungeon-stuckxx]

Breath

Opposite:

Blood

Neighboring:

Hope, Life

Presides Over: 

Air, wind (the breeze), freedom, music, temperature, direction, escapism, distance, flight

Themes:

Breath players have a deep interest in the concept of flight

Personality:

Breath players are flexible and are able to mold themselves to a given situation.

They uplift those around them and bring positivity into the spaces they occupy. However, a breath player who isn’t feeling up to the task could very easily tie others down and bring forth negativity. How a breath player feels will change what they outwardly express, causing them to project their emotions onto those around them.

A breath player's personal goal will always come before helping others, but that doesn’t mean that a breath player won’t help others along their journey. If they have the time and the chance to, breath players will make sure that their teammates receive the aid they deserve. They are naturally helpful people. They are always striving towards what they want, and they won’t hesitate to break off from the group in order to do so if they are not needed. They are more likely to bring others with them on their journey than stop what they are doing in order to help someone else on their own path. They may appear selfish, but the breath player doesn’t see it that way. They simply have things to do and adventures to go on that are more important to them than anything else. It is more fortunate, for a player of breath, if they can help other people on their way forwards.

Other people look up to breath players and often aspire to be like them in some way. Breath players are typically shocked or confused when others feel this way about them because they don’t see themselves as anything particularly special. And that’s not to say that breath players are self-loathing. Typically, breath players have a rather neutral opinion about themselves. They are able to see their flaws and can think of themselves from a realistic perspective. However, this doesn’t mean that a breath player has low self-esteem. They don’t hate themselves and just understand that they have flaws like everyone else in the world.

Breath players underestimate their abilities more often than others underestimate a breath player. They don’t see themselves as particularly skilled in any way and they often make decisions based on this false perspective of their capabilities. If you told a breath player “you can climb a mountain”, the breath player would say “sorry to disappoint you, but I really can’t”, despite the fact that they could climb two mountains. They are humble and lack the ability to see their skill sets as something to be proud of.

Breath players are gullible in nature and easily believe lies told to them. They see the best in people and lack any ability to comprehend how terrible someone can be unless the breath player sees it for themselves. It doesn’t help that a  breath player is someone who believes in second chances for the people who don’t deserve them. They are likely to fall into cycles of abuse, believing that the abuser has “learned their lesson” and that they've changed for the better. 

Breath players can be seen as avoidant individuals. They steer clear of any sort of conflict between people, often wanting to smooth over a situation and walk on eggshells than confront a situation head on. They often remain outwardly neutral to conflicts, despite their internal opinions. They do this so that the conflict doesn’t get directed onto them.

They are also avoidant in the sense that they often can be found far away from others, doing their own tasks by themselves. It’s not that they don’t like people because breath players are very social. Breath players just prefer to march to the beat of their own drum and do things their own way, even if that means that they have to do it by themselves. They like the company of having just the sound of their own footsteps with them and they find it to be quite comforting to be alone. It is not uncommon for a stressed-out player of breath to take a step back and decompress by themself.

Breath players think in the present rather than in the past or future. They like to take things as they come and they are able to adapt to their surroundings thusly. They are still rather headstrong about their goals though, and they constantly move in the direction of their destination in some fashion. They have fun on the journeys they go on because of this.

Breath players are open-minded to new possibilities. They are like children when they are exploring the world around them for the first time. Everything is filled with wonder. They like to discover new things and they don’t mind if their worldview is shifted. They simply take any new perspectives that they are given and change their current perspective.

In Canon:

John Egbert (Heir of Breath), Tavros Nitram (Page of Breath), Rufioh Nitram/The Summoner (Rouge of Breath), Barzum Soleil (Player of Breath), Amisia Erdehn (Player of Breath), Bronya Ursama (Player of Breath)

[redbulltropical]

my gripe with heartstopper both as a concept and a show in general

While I do dislike Heartstoppper, it’s not for any deep or profound reason. I think it has bad acting, bad writing, no coherent theme, underlying message or much nuance. Objectively, it’s just a shitty show. Of course that doesn’t mean I don’t think it should exist or anything like that - queer people deserve easy to watch and just feel good series, particularly one’s aimed at teenagers and children. God knows there’s enough straight ones.  

My issue is the reception it received. I think most people can agree that Heartstopper definitely “blew up” so to speak. That’s whatever but a lot of people are definitely acting as if Heartstopper is some kind of era defining genius of queer representation, when it just isn’t. 

I mean c’mon man. We have an abundance of new shows featuring queer characters and you choose to stand with Heartstopper?? 

Heartstopper is good at what it is, a linear and easy to understand romcom about two British boys. And that’s fine, not everything has to be a work of absolute genius but acting like Heartstopper is the be all and end all of queer representation and that it’s completely new, original and progressive just isn’t true in my opinion.

I’m sure there’s millions of reasons why Heartstopper gained so much attention compared to other queer centred shows, but in my completely uneducated opinion I feel it’s because Heartstopper is very linear and easy to digest and understand for non-queer people. I mean the show literally spells it out, “that’s homophobic, Harry.” There’s no room for nuance or intricacies, which is great if you’re not queer.

Other recent shows like Young Royals and Our Flag Means Death very much centre queer people and are made for queer people. Young Royals doesn’t appeal as much to a non-queer audience because it doesn’t always spell things out in a way that’s easy to understand if you can’t relate to the characters personally. 

In addition to this, I really feel that most news outlets, award shows, instagram influencers and whatever else, just don’t want to deal with queer people fucking nasty and being weird and eccentric because, say it with me, it isn’t palatable for a non-queer audience. In Young Royals Wilhelm threatens to blow his cousin’s head off with a shotgun. Our Flag Means Death is literally centred around gay outlaws that blow people up for a living. I mean why navigate that when we can just talk about those cute white boys kissing at a party.

It sort of feels like Heartstopper is trying to sell a story about queer people for straight audiences. Young Royals has never shied away from explicit affection between the two main characters. Our Flag Means Death takes old, fat and hairy men and makes them the stars of a queer story. Of course you don’t have to show sex or swearing or drugs to make a good queer show and teenagers do deserve to see themselves represented, but in terms of breaking boundaries and being innovative - which a fuckload of people are claiming it is - Heartstopper isn’t really the best example. 

It should be said that anything featuring a queer relationship does push boundaries for the most part, as even just two dudes holding hands can rustle the jimmies of homophobic people. But it’s important to realise that Heartstopper is not the absolute pinnacle of queer representation, it is just one way queer people can be represented.

tl;dr: Heartstopper is not necessarily a bad show but at the same time it is not incredibly innovative piece of queer media that a lot of y’all make it out to be.

[cynettic]

I just read Kitsune reader x yan Scaramouche's fic, may I have gotten hooked on it? and of course, it's just perfect and that's why I'm here to lose a part two with nsfw, thank you in advance and understand if you refuse:3

Link to Part 1

Summary - Taking you captive, Scaramouche continues to see you as a pillar of support. Coming back home to have you there, always. Even if it meant chaining you up.

Pairings - F!Kitsune!Reader x Yan!Scaramouche

Warnings - Smut, slight noncon ( I tried to make it as consensual as possible but its difficult with yandere themes ), fingering, electricity play

Rating - NSFW

Penpal - Ahhh I'm actually beginning to get attached to this series, might end up writing a couple more posts with different hc and stuff. I hope you liked the post though, have a great day <3

A/N - The literal definition of the ‘stoic cruel boy who’s mean to everyone but you.’ Oh well, Scaramouche is ooc af, but I did change a few things in his backstory so its supposed to make sense for this story ;) Also- since we dont know Scaramouche’s actual name, I have the reader still… yknow, call him Scaramouche. Which is kinda weird cause its his harbinger name but oh well. Also, credit to @cycletr4in for proofreading it ;3

Taglist - @cursedraiden

Stay with Me pt.2

Scaramouche was a gentle captor.

In contrast to piercing eyes and harsh stares when it came to others, he had a soft spot for you. Like the ice that encased him whole melted at your touch, craving for the warmth only you could give him. For your arms around him, to play pretend and imagine he were a child, free, fearless, unbound. A child in your arms, safe and protected.

But you were held hostage, which meant that the chains around your wrists and legs held you down and secured you. Like you were bound to one spot like you’d always been, except this time you didn't have a choice.

You weren't waiting for the Kitsune Saiguu.

Hell, you didn't even have your vision.

This brought on resentment for the dark haired boy. You hated him, you despised him for holding you down under his own judgment. But at the same time, all you saw in him was a child, a little kid who hadn't had the time to grow up. The one who refused to do so because it was his only way to survive in the type of world he lived in. Hide behind that same facade he developed as a kid, snide remarks and unrelenting cruelty.

Just to come back to your arms, sobbing because he was still that child. Sobbing because he was still hurt. Sobbing because you were still his beacon of light, of hope.

He depended on you.

And as much as you built up harsh words to use against him, they dissolved in your mouth when you saw him. His vulnerability that he saved for you and you only. A deep part of you cared for him, a little too much.

Gentle fingers brushed through the locks of Scaramouche’s hair, twirling it around and playing with the strands. It was smooth, a small detail no one would have the chance to notice from the distance he put around himself and others. A quiet hum left his lips as he leaned against your chest, eyes fluttering closed against the soothing feeling of you against him.

The lavish silk sheets were soft against your skin, pillow pushing your form to sit up. Just enough to have Scaramouche in your arms, knees on either side of his body as his head rested under your chin. His chest rose and descended, almost on beat with yours, if not just a tad slower.

You hoped he wouldn't hear the way your heart thrummed against your chest.

Warmth, his body flushed against yours, the luxury of a bed and the small candlelight on your bedside. Different from what you’d grown into just on the side of the trail, sitting for decades. Or with your time with the Kitsune Saiguu, it was never this warm, never this gentle.

But this warmth ended at your beating heart, furiously blazing. Sending an urge of adrenaline through your body, whispering ‘run’ through your veins. A primal urge that would've had your hands around Scaramouche’s neck, till he was wrangling and dead.

Till you could escape.

Hand slowly sliding down his jawline, you let your gentle fingers ghost along the soft skin of his neck. Claws outstretched and ready, sharp and pointed with a deadly intent to kill. You could end him so quickly, overturn his trust and make an escape. You deserved it, you deserved freedom. Not a delusional boy who thought himself protector against someone who’s lived decades more than him.

Jolting at the sensation of a soft grip on your wrist, you watched with idle fascination as he simply cupped your wrist in his hold. Not stopping you, not restraining you, he simply brought your hand to his face. To his lips where he pressed the softest of kisses into your palm. So heartfelt and genuine that all you could do was freeze, not even considering clawing his face.

“I love you.”

You both stayed in that position for a few moments more, silence cradling the tension that slowly dissipated from your body. Forlorn eyes watching as he shift the angle of your wrist to kiss your fingertips. He wasn't waiting for an answer, basking in these soft moments where he could hide in your hold. Like a child, forced to grow up too quickly, yearning back for his foolish naivety, yearning for the childhood he missed.

You were that childhood.

Which is why he clung to you so dearly, showed expressions he didnt know he could make, hold you captive under the impression that it was ‘right.’ What he was doing was okay.

Claws retracted, you pursued your lips, holding back the tears of frustration that burned at your eyes. You hated him, hated him for the chains on your wrists, for the disappearance of your vision that you’d given so much value to. Hated him for the warmth he still made you feel.

You hated him.

You felt like a housewife in some respects. Not with the cleaning and cooking part, and of course no children were part of the equation. But in terms of support, you stayed rooted to that room, loose chains too strong for you to break or tug holding you down. Window was too far, and you were stuck moving around the bed and the desk that sat just a little farther away.

Attempts at having your vision back or more freedom in movement had been discussed with Scaramouche, but as childlike and free as he acted with you, he was not an idiot.

“I don’t plan on underestimating you,” was his answer, head resting on the plush of your chest. “You’re strong, always were. But I have to take extremes to make sure you don’t get hurt, some people out there are stronger than you.”

You wanted to point out that there were a ton of people stronger than him as well, but you kept your mouth shut. “Can I at least see the house? I’ve been cooped up here for so long…”

And he cant say no to such an innocent request as that right?

So he unlocks the chains, the vision at his side reminding you that he was strong. You solely knew that he’d been tough as a kid, and under the intensive training he’d seemed to endure, he was much much stronger. You werent willing to give it a go and lose his trust just yet.

Not like he really trusted you anyways-

At the very least, you’d hoped to get some sort of blueprint of the house, and all you’d received was confusion and your mind making up that the house itself was a maze.

“Didnt we… just pass through here?”

Glancing at the obvious frustration on your face, Scaramouche chuckled, pulling your arm through the hallways you swear you’d seen three times prior. “Nope, most of the hallways look pretty similar. The house wasn't built for dumbasses.”

You flashed him a look and were about to make some snideish rebuttal before you saw the smirk. You knew what he was doing, trying to comfort you with casual arguments you both used to have. Consisting of you telling him to work on his people skills, and him calling you a lazy ass. Of course you missed it, but you also knew you couldn't go back to it.

And then there was the issue when you learned that he was a harbinger.

A scene you didnt want to replay in your head, when a maid burst into your room, Scaramouche acting a tad more intimate. He had an awful tendency to do that, hug your waist and press his face against the crook of your neck. Press gentle kisses down the length of your shoulder that had you shuddering. You weren't used to intimacy, and considering you’d watched him grow up, it was just weird.

Stuttering, the maid had demanded that he was requested by the Tsarista. You’d seen the fear in her eyes when Scaramouche slowly turned to her, seen the unshakable immobility of standing under his gaze.

“Do not enter.” He said, “It’s on the door.”

That was the first time you’d seen Scaramouche kill.

You hoped it’d be the last.

But you’d seen death before, so much death in the time of the Kitsune Saiguu. And for a few seconds, you found yourself fearless as you yanked against the chains, yelling at his figure at the doorway.

“Tsarista?” You snarled, standing just a few feet away from him. His hand on the girls neck, clenching around the pretty skin of hers. Disgusted, the chains that held you back from closing the gap and throwing the girl away from him were impossible to overcome. “Why the hell does she need you?!”

‘Let go,’ you wanted to say. ‘Let her go, she’s going to die.’

It worked, because the ironclad grip was gone, the maid tumbling to the ground lifelessly. You’d been too late, and now her blood was on his hands, your hands. This was your fault and you had half the self control not to thrash against the chains with sharp claws, hands on his neck.

The hard steel gaze vanished in an instant, and like he’d regained his senses, he took a few steps to you. Hands clenching to fists before loosening to fingertips brushing against his palms. Confusion, regret and guilt clouded his features like a child waiting to be reprimanded. You didn't back away, stood firm and fierce when standing and keeping a tough front.

You wanted to cry.

“Its… its a long story.” He finally stated to your question, and when you didnt budge, he took a deep breath. In control again, he closed the distance between the two of you, “I’m sorry.” And that same thrum of electricity jolted through your body, sending you into a spiral of the girls lifeless eyes and Scaramouche’s childlike eyes. Till everything went black.

You woke up with the body gone. Scaramouche was gone as well.

You learned that Scaramouche liked to have things his way. Which meant that he was always in control, always had control of every situation.

Even in those short stretches of vulnerability when he rested in your arms, he still held something over you. And you had to adapt, shift for his wishes, coddle him and stay as his beacon. Because he was stronger, and even if you’d find some way to escape, he would find you.

It was odd, and you slowly let go of the image of him as a child, you knew he was a lot older. He’d probably reached the age your body was stuck in, and with every sweet kiss he pressed to your lips, you knew he saw you as some sort of lover. But as someone who wasn't in control, you simply had to play along, just until you found some way to make your escape.

Without killing him.

_-_-_-_-_

“Strip.”

Laying on one side of the bed, your eyes jolted open at the commanding voice. Slowly, you sat up, eyeing the dim figure at the doorway. Without the help of a candle or the moonlight at the window, you could distinguish Scaramouche at the doorway, taking off the large headpiece as he flung it to the ground.

“Excuse me…?” Your voice was soft, rusty after an evening nap.

“I’ll make you feel good,” was his only answer. Slowly making his way to the bedside till he could properly face you. His eyes were soft, but there was an odd sort of determination that you hadnt seen before. You held back his stare, confusion lacing your features when he suddenly started pulling off loose decorations that hung on his clothes. Just till he unlaced the vest and slid off his shirt. “Don’t worry.” But you didnt know quite what he meant until he leaned further to you, catching you off guard.

So you yelped when his hands suddenly slammed down on your shoulders, shifting you to have access to the buttons of your top layer. He was quick when undoing them, simply swatting away at your hands when you protested and tried to pull him away. Throwing it to the edge of the room when he was done, you could only thrash in horror when he undid your trousers just as quickly, pulling them down before you could grab them back up.

“Scaramouche? Hey-”

And then he threw you down on the bed, exposing you in your undergarments in the cool air of the room. Shivers crept up your spine and bristled across your skin, and before you could curl up to at the very least hide away, you felt a tug at your chains. Fear finally settled in when you saw Scaramouche attach the chain to the bedpost, until your hand was lifted up and he began to do the same to the other.

“Wait wait wait, stop and explain what you’re-”

Only then did he pause from what he was doing, slowly looking down to properly face you. His eyes slid up and down your body, and he took a step towards you. “I’ll make you feel good,” were his only words, and you were forced to take them as all he was planning on giving you. Only when he sat on the bed next to you did you realize what he meant, hand settling on your shoulder, waiting.

“Alright,” you said slowly. Painfully, the words bit your tongue, but you were merciless against someone who had control against the situation. You could say no and you knew Scaramouche would stop, he was gentle to you and you only. And even if he’d been firm just before, you knew that he’d still stop if you asked him to.

A part of you felt thrilled to have that power over him.

Another part of you just wanted to escape.

But you didnt have any hope to do so unless you were willing too give him everything. Because he expected everything and would do anything in his power to obtain it. You’d let him fiddle around with this delusion, thinking that he had control. Until he didnt.

Which is why you didnt flinch when his hand gently slid up your stomach, cold against the warmth you’d had under the blankets. Rubbing gingerly against your skin and drawing smooth shapes over before he slowly slid over your body. His eyes seemed to glint under the darkness of the room, lust filled and wanting.

You didnt shift uncomfortably, you pretended to be that doll he expected you to be.

Just staring up at him as he slowly leaned down to kiss you. His lips felt like snowflakes on a winters day, idly swaying side to side to catch one in your mouth. Jolting like electricity when they melted into your touch, red and swollen when he pulled back. You now vividly felt every touch, as if a current flowed and static jittered in the places he briefly brushed his fingertips.

“You always take such good care of me,” he breathed, lips slowly drifting down your chin. Just past your jawline and right on your neck. The space between your head and shoulder, a soft vulnerable spot that had your lips humming at the affectionate pressure. “Its my turn to take care of you.”

And then his lips were everywhere, collarbone, shoulders, cleavage. Just until his teeth were tugging off your bra, face nuzzled in between both breasts. Both of his hands now resided on your hips, grabbing both thighs to hold them up and against him. You could feel him hard, pressing so close to your heated core.

You managed to keep your reactions in check.

Just until he slowly grinded against you, mouth on your breasts as he again pecked the soft mounds, molding his lips against them as if he could remember the texture, memorize the feel. It was just to that point that mindless sounds slipped past your lips, turning to gasps when his hands on your thighs suddenly buzzed, and static rushed in. Your legs felt weak, entire body thrumming in response to the electricity he sent jolting.

He was using his vision.

The realization was numb against his lips on your breasts, hands slowly stroking the skin of your sides, travelling up. He hovered over you for mere seconds before mashing his lips against you once more, different. He was no longer gentle, and it was with the contact on your tail that you lost all control. When he gently moved it out of the way, backing up.

You were a mess.

Not that you tried to be, you’d been doing your best not to enjoy his touch. But it was hard when your core heated up so fast, mashing both legs together in hopes he wouldn't notice. You knew he would, any action beyond that was just you trying to save your dignity.

He sat there like he was enjoying the sight, the first time you’d seen him actually portray any visual confirmation of satisfaction towards the chains. He’d drink dry any ounce of control you gave him, and it was impossible not to give him it all when you were visionless and vulnerable.

But the dignity you struggled so hard to keep shattered when his hands brushed against your inner thigh.

Fingers slowly made their way to the padded fabric of your undergarments, two digits rubbing the area slowly with expertise. You bit your lip, muffling any groan of anticipation, hiding the way your hips tried to rock back into the gesture. Desperate, oh so desperate. Hiding back the whimpers as he slowly quickened the pace of his fingers against your garments. “Archons Y/n,” he murmured. “I haven't even put anything in and you’re already a squirming mess.”

“Shut u-up,” was all you managed, trying to shift away from the pressure against your clit. But his other hand was on your hip, holding in place. You could only watch and press your thighs tightly together as he slowly slid down your panties, resuming hovering over you. Distracting you with kisses, his fingers gently stroked your core, two fingers slowly sliding into your cunt using your juices.

He was gentle when pumping both fingers in and out, too slow when you thrust your hips to meet his fingers, pleading for him to go faster. But he liked hearing your cries, slowing down when you begged, quickening when you whined and just lay there, taking it.

You shuddered the first time electricity jolted from his digits.

It was when he had three fingers that he sent the static up your body, back arching with such intensity that it even had him chuckling. “Oh? You like it that much?” And then it is like something buzzed against your body, fingers vibrating against your clit as your thighs tightened around his hand. So much that you thought you’d crush it, but it didn't matter, not with the electrifying feeling against your body. It felt so odd, so overwhelmingly good that it had your legs sliding up and down the bedside, toes curling as the static grew and you fell paralyzed to his touch.

It didn't take long with his fingers thrusting in and out of you to cum. Moaning mess when he gave you the time to breathe, teeth biting your bottom lip and then mashing against yours. Your eyes grew fuzzy and most happened in a haze, and all you knew the entire time was that you’d given yourself to him, and that it felt good. You couldn't see the childlike wonder in his eyes anymore, not the need of a beacon or of support. No, the look he shared was feral, the smile tinting his lips almost scary. But it felt too good to care, and you let yourself enjoy his ministrations.

He pulled out and suddenly his own shorts were undone, boxers thrown to the side of the room just like all your other clothing. You didn't see how big he was, just felt his hard shaft against your throbbing cunt, pussy dripping and legs open wide and tired after your first go at it.

You expected him to be gentle like he’d been with his fingers. But he pressed the tip against your core, and in one full motion he was in. Teeth grinding against each other, you held back a scream, shock coursing through your body, overwhelmed with pain and discomfort. It hurt. But it was quickly overshadowed by his movements as he slid in and out of you, slow when pulling his hips back, and rocking himself completely inside you each time. A pattern that let you catch your breath and lose it all the same. Like he was continuously having a go at hitting the deepest parts of you, pulling back before fully thrusting into you and sending waves of pleasure and pain alike.

It was expected, but you couldnt hear yourself.

Not with your mind trapped in a haze of how he felt, body still buzzing after how he’d pulsed his vision through you. And now you were at the mercy of his member, hips swaying along with his, no energy for you to rock with him and try to push him deeper.

Archons, you didn't even think he could go deeper.

But you were proven wrong again and again as he kept the steady pace, hands clawing at your ass and hips. Stabilizing himself and trying to press himself against you, as far as he could go. Slowly, his hands drifted up to your hair, playing with the soft sensation of your furry ears. Pinching and rubbing, fingers coaxing the back of them like a massage. So gentle, but it paled in comparison to the harsh treatment of his dick.

You came first, gripping the chain with your hands in an attempt to stay stable. Walls clenching around him one last time before you got your release, your moans turning into cries when he continued to thrust into you. Your body felt numb, all nerves centred on the way he pounded into you, chasing his own release.

When he did, he pressed his head into your chest, his own breaths heavy with pleasure. Not pulling out, you could only lay there helplessly as his seed filled you, warm in contrast to the electricity he’d shot up your body just earlier. He didnt pull out, and laying in your chest, your heavy breathing didnt stop until he was asleep, collapsing on you and using you as support yet again.

Taking only a minute later to regain control of your senses, you shifted uncontrollably at his member inside of you, sending waves of pleasure every time you moved. Your wrists were restrained and you were stuck in this position till morning.

Achingly, you looked down at the boy, wondering how you would ever manage to escape.

[julesclues]

Helloo how are you? I was wondering if you could do a jj smut in which him & reader are having rOuGh seggs but it's from jj’s pov. It’s ok if you’re not comfortable with it<3

You’re Mine

Warnings: smut, rough sex, oral (f receiving), choking, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it please), jealous! jj, 18+ themes

Word count: 1.93k

Pairing(s): JJ Maybank x reader

A/n: this is my first time writing smut, so I hope it’s good!

Summary: JJ and y/n are dating but when she starts talking to some random touron at a party, JJ gets jealous and reminds her who she really belongs to. (JJ’s perspective)

I watched as John B twirled Sarah to the beat of the music. Kiara and Pope were at the bar drinking God knows what. It sure made them get drunk quick though. As for y/n, I watched her intensely as she danced alone, in the middle of everyone. A goddess was an understatement. I downed my beer and made my way to her. I felt myself getting hard by just watching her. The way she swayed her hips with not a care in the world made me wonder how I managed to find a woman like her. Why she would even think about being with someone like me.

As I made my way to her, I saw a man approach her. He had blue eyes, a bit darker than mine, and a bit of a stubble lingering on his face. He was obviously drunk, but y/n being the oblivious beauty she is, thought he was just being friendly. I felt my fist tighten as my knuckles turned white with jealously. He wasn’t touching her or doing anything to her, but his intentions were obvious. At least to me they were. I got closer to listen to their conversation, but made sure not to involve myself just yet.

“Ya from around here?” His hard accent asked her. I rolled my eyes at his cliche attempt to get into her pants. “Yeah,” y/n chuckled. “Born and raised.” Her answers were short and sweet, I knew she was just trying to be friendly. I trusted her to not cheat on me, of course. But I didn’t trust him to not make a move. “So, you single?” He asks, getting closer to her. I felt my blood boiling. “No,” you say awkwardly. “I- uh. I have a boyfriend.” He hums in understanding but still moves closer to her. “What he doesn’t know won’t kill him, right?” He puts his hand on her shoulder, and that’s why I finally interfere. “Y/n, baby,” I say, spinning her around to look at me. Her eyes lit up as she looked at me. God, she was beautiful.

“This the boyfriend?” The guy asks, and she turn to him. “Yeah,” she answers nonchalantly. “Come on, we’re getting out of here,” I say roughly. Before leaving though, I make sure the guy knows that she’s mine. “Don’t talk to her again, got it?” I hiss. He rolls his eyes and walks away without a word. I pull y/n all the way to her house and slam the door shut. She jumps a bit, knowing I was angry. “I hate that guy,” I admit, pacing back and forth. All she does is chuckle, making me stop and look up at her. “It’s fine JJ,” she says, trying to reassure me. But for some reason, that made me more mad. “You saying you liked how he was trying to get in your pants?” I ask, getting close to her. She blinks a couple times, her eyes flickering to my lips and back up to my eyes.

“N-no,” she stutters, squeezing her thighs together. I smirk, eyes roaming her beautiful body. She had on tight leather pants that I loved so much, with a deep v-neck shirt that was once mine. “I don’t believe you,” I whisper, as I start to kiss her neck. She moans ever so slightly into my ear, which sounded like pure bliss to me. I attack the other side of her neck now, pushing her slightly to trap her body against mine and the wall. “JJ,” she moans, but I silence her by kissing her harshly. She runs her fingers through my hair, tugging at it a bit. She drives me crazy.

I grab her hands and pin them to the wall, making her grunt with pleasure. “No touching princess. I don’t think you deserve it after what you did today.” She whines in disappointment which just fuels my need for her. I go back to kissing her neck just to hear those little whimpers I always longed for. “Up,” I command, and she obeys, jumping while wrapping her legs around my waist. I grab her ass, squeezing and carrying her to the bedroom. I throw her on the bed and she props herself up with her forearms, eyes scanning my body and I rip of my shirt. “You’re gonna be a good girl, right?” I ask, crawling on top of her and pinning her arms down. “Yes JJ! Anything for you,” she moans, as I grab her shirt and rip it off her body. I look down and realize she had no bra on. “I thought you were a good girl?” I question, as her face turns a bit red. I don’t give her time to respond though, as I bring my mouth to her breast. “JJ!” She moans in pure delight. As my mouth attacks her right nipple, my hand massages the left one.

She arches her back in pleasure, making her clothed core rub against mine, making me moan against her chest. The vibrations make her groan, causing me to smirk. Halting my actions, she whimpers as her nipples harden. I kiss down her stomach, leading to her core. I start to unbutton her pants and she lifts her hips so I had no resistance in taking them off. Her panties slip down with her pants, and I stare at her glistening pussy. I threw her pants somewhere across the room, not really caring at this point. I was painfully hard already, but had to make sure she knew who she truly belonged to. “God, you’re so fucking hot,” I admit and she giggles. “But you’ve been bad y/n. Talking to that excuse of a man. Not realizing he was flirting with you. I’ll show you who you belong to. I’ll make sure everyone knows who you belong to.” I lick my lips in anticipation and dive down to taste her.

I start to lick her folds, making her moan and shiver. “Oh, JJ!” I’ll never get tired of hearing her moan my name. My tongue swirls around her clit as she throws her hands in my hair and pulls a bit. As good as it feels, I throw her hands off my head and pin it above hers. “No touching,” I whisper and go back to tasting her. Using my free hand, I insert two fingers into her, but give her no time to adjust. “Fuck!” She moans loudly, arching her back. I thrust my fingers into her at a fast pace, while my tongue leaves wet circles against her clit. “Oh g-god! Pl-please don’t stop!” She moans and stutters. I felt her getting closer and closer with each thrust. Her legs start to shake and I feel her hands turn into fists. But before she could cum, I stopped completely and looked up at her. I removed my fingers and brought them to her mouth. “Suck,” I command, but she keeps her mouth closed.

I pull on her hair, making her gasp, and insert my fingers into her mouth, making her taste herself. “You said you were going to be a good girl,” I say in disappointment and lust. She twirls her tongue around my fingers as I keep talking. “But so far, you haven’t been. If you want to cum princess, then you better listen to me, got it?” All she did was nod in response, moaning just a little bit. I remove my fingers from my mouth and take off the bottom half of my clothing. Her breathing became more erratic as she stared down at my cock. I smirked, feeling confident. She grabs my cock in impulse, making me moan and throw my head back. “Shit,” I groan, but throw her hands off. “No touching,” I grunt. She whines and I get back on top of her.

I align my dick with her entrance, rubbing up and down her folds. “Stop teasing baby, p-please,” she begs. “What do you want princess?” I ask her, and she grinds against my cock. “Princess,” I warn, and she bites her lip. “I want you JJ.” I smirk and shake my head. “You want me to what, y/n?” She groans in frustration, just wanting me already. It was fun to watch her long for me. “I want you to fuck me JJ! Please, fuck me until I can’t walk.” My cock twitches at her words. “As you wish princess.” I roughly slam into her, not giving her time to adjust as I start to thrust in and out of her. She gasps loudly, grabbing onto my shoulders and clawing her nails down my back because of the pleasure. “Oh! JJ! Yes!” She repeats my name like a mantra, causing me to go faster and harder.

I put my hand on her throat, and she moans. “F-fuck yes! Choke me harder.” I moan at her words, pushing down on her neck harder. I make sure not to hurt her, but it was obviously she liked it a lot. I felt her pussy clench against my dick, which made me throw my head back. Each vein caressed her walls like we were made for each other. I felt her getting close, since I didn’t let her cum before. “Shit! I-I’m gonna cum!” She groans, but I squeeze her throat slightly. “Not yet princess. I tell you when to cum, got it?” She whines, not being able to respond. I loved watching her try hard not to cum for me. How badly she tried to obey me. “Be the good little girl you say you are,” I moan. She squeezes her eyes shut and opens her mouth. Her breathing became more erratic, making me only fuck her harder.

My thrusts started to become more sloppy as I felt myself wanting to explode in her. “Y/n! Fucking shit! You feel so good around me baby. Never going to talk to another guy again.” She moans loudly at my words, desperate to cum. I feel my orgasm approaching, as I stare down at her beauty. Her breast bounce with each thrust. This was definitely a moment I’ll think about while self-pleasuring.

“Such a good girl! F-fuck. Cum for me y/n. Do it baby. Cum around my cock!” Instantly, she moans load and claws against my back. I feel her milk my cock as her orgasm runs through her aggressively. My thrusts don’t stop though, as I help her ride through her orgasm. Though she had cum, I wasn’t giving up just yet. I started going faster, as the headboard of her bed shook violently. “JJ!” She screams, clenching her thighs together. I push them open though and hold them there. I don’t think she even knew she was that flexible. “Ah! O-oh fuck! I’m gonna cum again!” She screams, gripping the bed sheets with immense pleasure. “Cum with me y/n! Tell everyone w-who you belong to!”

I cum in her as she cums too, screaming my name. I thrust a couple more times, helping her ride out her high. After I hear her moans quiet down, I roll off of her and lay next to her. The room was silent, apart from her erratic breathing and my panting. “If I had known me talking to a guy would lead to this, I would’ve done it more often,” she jokes, making me look at her instead of the ceiling. I chuckle as she bites her lip. “JJ that was..” her voice fades, as she looks down and smirks. “That was fucking amazing.” I smile and climb back on top of her.

“I’m just getting started princess.”

[kurosukii]

𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞

pairing: iwaizumi hajime x f!reader

summary: teasing your boyfriend is one of your favorite pastimes, but it almost always ends up with him showing you exactly who’s boss.

genre: smut, slight fluff, established lovers au

warnings: 18+. daddy kink, degradation, praise, edging, overstimulation, dom/sub themes, traffic light system, spitting, hair pulling, choking, cumplay, creampie, sensory deprivation (blindfold), spanking, dirty talk, oral (f receiving), fingering, bratty reader, mating press, slight dumbification, slight pussyjob, slight aftercare, multiple orgasms, panty sniffing, unprotected sex, pet names

word count: 5.6k

author’s note: .........i literally have no words for this. it’s 5.6k words of fucking filth. the iwa slut club is open and my dumbass dived in. the iwa brain rot is REAL. will always salivate for this man. (if you understand what the title means then you have the biggest brain 😏) (unedited) (let me know if i’m missing any warnings!) (MINORS DNI)

[9:13 PM]

you have to admit that you went too far with your antics this time.

“accidentally” brushing your fingers against his crotch, making his cock tent in his slacks as he slightly stumbled on his words to his colleagues. making eye contact with him while quietly moaning when you took a bite of the delicious food served to your table. subtly rubbing your dress-clad ass on his front as he ushered both of you out of the restaurant, claiming that an emergency came up and he had to “deal” with it immediately.  

the teasing didn’t end there, though. you were riling him up on the way home, knuckles turning white as he gripped the steering wheel with half of his strength. you were duly expecting him to pull over and drag you to the backseat so he could pound your cunt until all you could do was chant his name like a prayer and finally cumming all over his fat cock. he didn’t do that though, and you were fairly disappointed.

you told him that and all he did was smirk at you, said you needed to be patient. his grip from the wheel loosened and he placed his warm hand on your thigh instead.

by the time hajime parked the car, you were reduced to tears because he  edged and teased you until you begged him to stop. you were so close to cumming. twice. his fingers were buried in your tight and wet cunt for the rest of the ride, lazily stroking your walls and thrusting them in and out, but never  grazing your sweet spot or your clit. the places where you needed his long and thick fingers the most.

as you walked to the door of the apartment, you could feel the slick from your bare pussy spread around your thighs and you shivered when the cold breeze caressed the mess down there. hajime chuckled, clearly amused at your predicament, one hand in his pocket rubbing and playing with the red lace that he ordered you to remove before he tortured your cunt.

“bad girls don’t have the privilege of wearing panties. take them off and give them to daddy,” he had said, and before you knew it, you handed your damp panties to him. he put the cloth to his nose and inhaled. your pussy gushed even more as your eyes rolled to the back of your head. “your pussy always smells so sweet for daddy, baby. fuck,” hajime groaned as his pants grew tighter. you were a fool to expect that he would make you cum by just hearing his praise.

you breathed a sigh of relief as you entered the apartment, clearly hoping for him to finish what he started, but this time with his cock balls deep inside of you as you spilled all around him. apparently, he had other plans for the night.

“get on the bed. hands and knees. now.”

he said in a tone that didn’t allow for disobedience, but you were never the type to follow him right away, and he knew that. it still didn’t stop him from ordering you, instead, it only enhanced his arousal, his heavy cock straining against his pants.

he untied his red tie from tonight’s dinner, and then he threw the narrow piece of cloth behind you where the bed was. looking at you in the eye, he slowly unbuttoned his white dress shirt, muscles bulging against it. he discarded the material away, making it land on a heap on the floor.

you were rooted to your spot, your mouth instantly watering at the vision before you. the planes of his chest and abdomen, the veins protruding from his arms, the golden brown of his skin glistening in the low light of your shared room. you let your eyes devour him and fuck, he looks so sexy with his face flushed red, both in anger and growing arousal. you have never seen a more beautiful being in this world than iwaizumi hajime. you were anticipating what he could do to you, what he was about to do to you.

“don’t make daddy wait any longer, baby. get on the bed. hands and knees. now,”

you didn’t mean to, but iwaizumi hajime just brings out the brattiness in you—he does a damn good job of taming you too—and you opened your mouth before you even thought of the words spilling out of it.

“make me, daddy,” you told him in a faux sweet voice as you looked at him in the eye, neck straining as you maintained eye contact. he was just so big, so tall, so sexy.

he raised an eyebrow, emerald eyes flashing and jaw clenching as he heard your challenge. instead of him granting your wish of bickering back at you and throwing you on the bed, he slowly walked towards you and on instinct, you walked back until the back of your knees hit the bed and you lost your footing. hajime smirked and took it as a chance to lightly push you back on the bed. you yelped as the springs made you bounce up and down before you settled on the soft and slightly cold sheets.

you felt the bed dip as he leaned over you, thick arms on either side of your body. his warmth from his naked torso enveloping you, you took in his smell, minty with a dash of vanilla, and you internally chuckled at the thought. the only thing vanilla about him is his scent.

he broke your train of thought, however, as he nuzzled into your neck, slowly placing open mouthed kisses onto it because he knows it drives you insane, it’s the most sensitive part of your body after all, other than the obvious parts of course.

“you’re being very brave and naughty tonight, bunny, what’s gotten into you, huh? does daddy need to show you your place, hm?” he said in a mocking tone as he bit your neck, slowly releasing the skin as he let his hot and skilled tongue soothe the dull pain.

you whined pitifully, head melting at his ministrations and intoxicating scent, making more slick slide down from your neglected cunt as you stopped yourself from begging for more. “answer me, baby. use your big girl words. does daddy need to put his bratty bunny in her place?” he moved his head from your neck to your ear, lips whispering his promise, knowing that he’ll deliver.

“yes,” you moaned, the sensations overwhelming you, naked cunt clenching around nothing as it tries to soothe the ache that’s been building ever since he edged you twice in the car.

“yes what?” he asked as he rubbed his  covered cock on your bare pussy, thin fabric separating you from what you really needed. you realised that you’re still wearing your little black number, the one that made you confident enough to tease him endlessly tonight.

you were about to fix your mistake but he hovered his mouth on your right breast and sucked on the nipple through the thin fabric, his fingers reaching up to pay attention on the left as he rubbed and rolled the nipple between his nimble fingers. you didn’t wear a bra because the dress didn’t allow you to, so that was the only barrier between your tits and hajime’s talented mouth. “i’m s-sorry, yes daddy. f-fuck yes, play with my tits more, just like that,” you mewled as you arched your back on the bed, hips slightly rutting the air to relieve the pressure in your pussy.

hajime pulled away and sat on his heels. you cried out at the loss of contact and was about to reach for him but he interrupted you. “you’re in no position to tell me what to do, bunny. take what daddy gives you and don’t be greedy,” he growled as he slapped your outer thigh, dress constricting your overheated body. fuck, can he just rip this thing off of me, you thought to yourself.

you were going to desperately beg him to do so but he was ahead of you, he rolled your pliant body, making you lie on your stomach. you gasped as he moved to straddle your thighs and bunched the hem of your dress all the way to your lower back, exposing your cunt and ass to the cold air of the room causing you to shiver.

“my baby’s cunt is so wet, so needy. and this ass—fuck,” hajime threw his head back and groaned as his large hands squeezed the globes of your ass. he was practically obsessed with it, and that was proven with your memories of him kneading and slapping it during the times when he told you to get on top of him, bouncing up and down on his cock as you gripped his thick thighs for balance, moaning like a whore because he was so fucking big and you could feel every vein and pulse throbbing in your pussy every time your thighs slapped on his skin—fuck, this is so not helping, you thought.

“your cunt’s clenching baby, what’s daddy’s girl thinking about, hm?” hajime taunted you in a mocking tone as he grinded his still clothed cock on your ass, hands squeezing the fat of it.

“thinking about your fat cock and how it feels so good inside of me, please, i need your cock daddy,” you cried out pathetically as you tried to roll your hips on the mattress,  pride flying out the window because all that matters is hajime getting a move on and burying his cock balls deep inside your needy pussy.

“is that so? you think you deserve to have daddy’s cock in your pussy? you’ve been so naughty tonight,” he taunted you as he inserted two thick fingers in your cunt, swirling around your walls. you whined and tried to fuck yourself against them. you’re dying for any kind of release, mind screaming for that orgasm that hajime has been neglecting to give you.

you heard it before you felt it. his warm hand connecting with your ass as he spanked you. “did i say you can fuck yourself on my fingers, whore?” you moaned and bucked your hips even more. he spanked your ass again, he knows you love it when he does this, he could feel it in the way your cunt squeezed and gushed around his fingers.

five more spanks later and your throat was already hoarse from moaning and begging him to fuck you. you know he’s torturing himself too with the way his breathing became heavier and the tell-tale sign of his pre-cum staining the front of his pants. “what’s your colour, baby?” hajime murmured, his hands massaging the marks on your ass, ever caring despite his previous actions. “green,” you whispered. he hummed in approval and opened his mouth to say something before you cut him off, oh how you’re going to pay for this later.

“p-please daddy, please fuck my pussy with your big fat cock, oh my god, please,” you begged, tears rushing down your face because it hurts. the pressure in your cunt was blinding, you needed your daddy’s cock and you needed it now. you never hated hajime’s iron restraint and slight sadism then and there, or so you told yourself.

you were still wearing your dress all this time and you wanted to yell at hajime to rip it off of you. you were about to, until you almost screamed in delight when you heard him unbuckling his pants and pulling his zipper down. you were going to flip yourself onto your back to watch his heavy cock bounce against his defined abs until he spanked your reddened ass again. “did i say you can move, whore?”

you moaned at his choice of words, yes, you are a whore for him, and you fucking love it. there’s nothing in this world you love more than being at his mercy.

you felt one hand move the zipper of your dress down while the other rubbed and soothed the handprints on your battered ass. “your ass looks even better with my marks, baby. such a good fucking girl for daddy,” hajime whispered against your back, soft lips trailing the path of your zipper.

he finally pulled the dress off of you and threw it on the floor along with his shirt. he rose to his knees as he stared at your body, hands tracing every part of you, making you moan at the soothing feeling as he massaged your back. his eyes roamed until he noticed the discarded red tie on the bed beside you and eyed it with interest. later, he smirked to himself.

he settled again as his sharp eyes focused on the glistening slick pouring out of your cunt from the way his hands were loving you. he tilted his head to the side as he brought his rough fingers to play with the wet strings between your legs.

“bet your pussy’s hurting so much right now baby, daddy’s been playing with it all night but he never let you cum, bet if i shove my fat cock up your wet cunt, you’re going to cum before i even finish the first stroke,” you moaned long and hard at the words coming out of his dirty mouth and bucked your hips again. he’s been edging himself as long as he’s been edging you. truth be told, he’s dying to slam his cock inside your cunt ever since the car ride but not yet, he’s still trying to teach you a lesson here.

both of you moaned as he slotted his dick between your ass, pre-cum wetting the junction and his slick falling to mix with yours, wetting the sheets beneath you even further.

before you could even say something, he flipped you over to your back and straddled your thighs as he loomed over you.

“here’s what’s going to happen, baby,” hajime whispered in his smoky voice, fingertips ghosting over your inner thigh, so close yet so far to where you need him. “i’m going to eat that slutty pussy,” he paused as his teeth grazed your lobe and gently bit it. this man. such a fucking tease. “and when i know you’re about to cum...i’m going to pull away,” he chuckled as he lifted his head from yours and looked you straight in the eye. you couldn’t stop the pathetic whine that came out of your lips.

“b-but daddy—” you whimpered. “but nothing, you little whore,” he growled. “you like to run that pretty mouth of yours, knowing just the right buttons to push to piss off your daddy. well, i have to punish you sometimes, don’t i?” he quirked a thick eyebrow, green eyes daring you to challenge him. even if you wanted to reply, you couldn’t, because his large hand was squeezing your face firmly, making your cheeks puff out and lips unintentionally forming into a pout. he released your face and placed both of his hands by your hips, just touching, not squeezing.

“now spread those legs, baby. show daddy his pretty pussy,” he said, and this time you followed him without question, despite the impending doom of him not giving you what you wanted, again. you spread your legs, putting them on either side of his strong thighs. you heard more than felt the squelching of your lower lips separating as you exposed your drenched cunt to the air, moaning and shivering at the oversensitivity. your mind slowly falling and falling until you could think about is him.

his eyes were trained on your soaking pussy, pink tongue wetting the bottom of his lips as he readied himself to go down on you. hajime took his time lowering himself, kissing and sucking your skin as he made red marks all over them, little moans spilling from your lips as more slick came out of your pussy, wet hole clenching around nothing.

“i wish you could see how slutty and messy your pussy looks right now, baby. so fucking wet, clenching around nothing. you really are my fucking whore, can’t wait to fucking devour this cunt, fuck,” hajime groaned as he ground his hips on the bed, cock aching and leaking.

you mewled and arched your back, gripping the sheets. every hot breath he released on your needy pussy making your head even hazier than before. hajime gripped your thighs for leverage as he licked one long and slow stripe against your slit. you don’t know if you screamed or not but finally, his mouth was on you. he chuckled at your reaction and the slight vibrations were sent to your clit, making you spasm until he took a hold of you again.

he spit on your cunt, not that he needed to, but he just wanted to watch his saliva mix with your slick before he tortures your pussy. you looked at him in wonder, a string of his spit connecting your pussy and his mouth. you couldn’t help but whine at how dirty and sexy he looks. he didn’t waste any more time so he parted your folds with two of his fingers and slowly sucked your clit into his mouth, tongue swirling and stroking around the bud. you screamed as your back bowed off the bed while his free hand pushed your stomach back down.

he moaned as he ate your pussy, the vibrations only amplifying your pleasure. the sounds coming from down there and your mouth were borderline pornographic as you pulled on his soft hair, rocking his face into your cunt as you tried to reach your sweet sweet orgasm. you moaned even louder, shame nowhere to be found as hajime inserted two thick fingers in your cunt while he licked and sucked on your puffy clit. the knot in your lower stomach threatening to burst if he continued like this any longer.

“f-fuck, fuck, fuck, i’m g-gonna cum daddy! yesyesyes don’t stop, don’t fucking stop ha-haji–” you mewled loudly, choking at the end of your sentence, tears flowing down your cheeks as you were going to peak and finally cum all over his skilled fingers and talented mouth. his fingers thrusting faster in and out of your pussy and lips sucking harder on your clit. you were so close, just a few more–

“have you forgotten what i said, baby? i said i was going to pull away before you cum,” hajime mocked you, rising from you while his mouth and chin are soaking with your essence. his green eyes glowing with mischief as he licked his swollen and drenched lips. if you could black out, you would have. you can’t believe that you forgot that this was supposed to be a punishment. tears were freely flowing down your cheeks now, pathetic whines and whimpers coming out of your mouth, legs shaking from the third failed orgasm of the night.

“don’t worry baby, daddy will make you cum tonight, so much that you’ll be begging for me stop because your little pussy can’t handle it anymore,” he ended his statement with him tracing your cheeks with his two soaking fingers, and putting them in his mouth, eyes shut as he moaned while sucking them. “taste so fucking divine, baby. i could fucking eat your cunt for hours,” he groaned as he rolled his neck to ease some of the tension in his body. “but that’s for another time, daddy’s got to fuck his good girl so well that she can’t walk the next day,” you shivered because hajime never ever breaks his promises. what he says will happen, will actually happen.

you studied him and noticed the trails of white on his abdomen. fuck, did he just cum? that makes one of us, you pouted. he noticed you looking at his cock, still so fucking hard even if he came, but you knew he’d only be satisfied once he’s inside of you, pounding your pussy until all your juices are running down his thighs.

“you want this cock, baby?” he asked as his large hand lazily stroked his cock, thumb smearing the pre-cum on his head as he taunted you with it. “i’ll give you this cock, but on one condition,” he leaned over to your ear, one arm supporting his weight. “i’m going to blindfold you,” he whispered. you felt your sweaty body stiffen, now that was a punishment.

every time you and hajime had sex, you always had a perfect view of him fucking you. hell, you only like being fucked from behind if there’s a mirror in front of you. he was god-like every time he was balls deep inside of you, and you absolutely love watching him own your pussy. for him to say that? you bit your lip in apprehension.

hajime smirked, he knew damn well how much you loved watching him wreck your pussy every time, but a punishment’s a punishment, and he never goes back on his word. “do we have a deal or not, bunny? you know i can leave you like this right? panting and aching from being on the edge, never allowing you to cum. but me? i can stroke my cock to this vision then blow my load on your stomach, and sleep comfortably beside you after. do you want—”

“n-no daddy! i’ll let you blindfold me, just please please put your cock inside of me. fuck my pussy, please!” you cried out in frustration, you’d do anything at this point just to have his fat cock inside of you.

hajime’s eyes flashed as he smiled devilishly, hand reaching for the red tie. “i want you on your hands and knees, slut,” he growled as he slapped your mound. you whimpered as you got into position, limbs shaking from all the stimulation.

he rose to his knees as he elegantly tied the blindfold around your eyes, slipping a finger in between to make sure it was firm enough to stay on but loose enough for you to feel comfortable. “that’s a good girl,” he purred as he rubbed your ass, satisfied with your prone position.

the moment he settled back on his heels was the moment you felt every sensation around you increase by tenfold, that’s what blocking a sense does to you. you inhaled deeply and took in the musky scent of you and hajime’s fluids in the air of the stuffy room.

“you’re so beautiful like this, baby,” hajime said in a whisper, hands worshipping your body as you moaned at the praise. he rested his warm hands on your hips, keeping a firm grip, preventing you from moving. you opened your mouth to beg him to put his cock in you until you felt his heavy weight and warmth hovering in front of your gaping hole.

he guided his cock to your cunt, smearing the slick of your pussy all over the tip before he slowly pushed it inside of you. you bunched the sheets in your hands as the both of you moaned from the pleasure of finally being connected. your body trembled even more as he was pushing in slowly, inch by inch.

before you even had the chance to think, he slammed his cock inside your throbbing pussy all the way to his base. “fuck, daddy!” you cried at the sudden force, your limbs and body shaking as you felt your cunt clench all around him, wetness trickling out of you as you moaned his name long and hard.

“fuck baby, you’re such a cockslut, you came before i even got to move. fuck, that’s so hot,” hajime groaned as he squeezed your hips, your pussy sucking in him even more as you tried to even your breathing from your first orgasm of the night, your blindfold only serving to enhance your long awaited release.

“we’re nowhere near done baby, daddy’s going to fuck this slutty pussy until dawn,” he growled as he braced himself, slipping out of your pussy until only his tip remained inside. he slammed himself inside your cunt once more, slick gushing out and forming a translucent ring around his cock.

he threw his head back and groaned as he finally fell into rhythm, hips snapping against your ass as the sounds of skin meeting skin filled the air. “yes daddy, just like that, yes oh my god,” you couldn’t stop yourself from moaning, not that you even wanted to because he was filling your pussy so well.

he was setting a pace so brutal that your trembling arms gave out from under you, moaning with reckless abandon as your face was smothered by the pillow. you turned your head to the side so you could breathe and moan for him.

he took one hand from your hip, never pausing or slowing down from his thrusts as he gathered both of your wrists in one hand, large enough that his fingers enveloped both of them. it was a stretch on your shoulders, but it was worth it because the new position made you arch your back more, nipples rubbing the sheets, adding more stimulation to your body. you love this new position because his cock is reaching more spots inside of you as he thrusted in and out.

“shit, you should see yourself baby, so drunk on my cock,” he groaned loudly, relishing in the way your cunt squeezed and throbbed all around him. “so fucking tight, so fucking wet. fuck,” both of you moaned as he hit that spot. his thrusts growing faster and harder as he was chasing his orgasm.

he let go of your wrists as he placed both of his hands on your hips, grip so tight that you’ll see bruises tomorrow morning. he was pounding your pussy now, cock hitting your cervix as you cried out for him, using your hips as leverage to fuck your shaking body back to his pulsing cock.

he choked out a groan as he reached forward and pulled your hair from the roots. he tilted your head back until you could feel the strain and leaned down to whisper in your ear, “your cunt is squeezing my cock so hard, baby. you’re such a good girl for daddy. won’t you cum for me?” he said seductively, breath panting as he thrusted faster, harder.

you moaned out a yes, knowing what you needed, hajime released your hair as his hand snaked around your stomach, reaching down to play with your clit as you were nearing your end.

“i’m gonna cum daddy, i’m gonna–yesyesyes right there, play with my clit–fuck!” you screamed as he pinched your clit with two fingers. your vision under the blindfold turned white as you gushed around his cock, moaning incoherently. hajime rode out your orgasm as his thrusts became sloppy and moans became more high pitched. he loudly orgasmed with your name and curses falling from his lips as he spilled his warm cum all over your insides. you moaned at the warmth of his cum filling your battered pussy. he untied the blindfold and threw it on the floor, his fingers gently rubbing your eyes to adjust to the low light of the room after being in the dark for some time.

both of you were heavily panting from your intense fucking when he slowly pulled out of you, cum gushing from your pussy down your thighs. “that’s a good cumslut, look at all that cum spilling from that slutty pussy,” he said in wonder, finger trailing the falling cum and inserting it back to your twitching cunt. you moaned at his words and actions, pussy still so fucking sensitive from everything that happened tonight.

“colour?” he asked, finger still swirling the cum inside your pussy, “green,” you sighed, even if you felt quite exhausted. “good. now get on your back and spread those legs wide. show daddy your filthy fucking cunt,” he ordered as he moved back on the bed to give you space to flip yourself.

your eyes widened at his demand, mouth falling open in shock as you watched his cock harden again and twitch against his sweaty abdomen. fuck this man and his endless stamina, you thought to yourself. he raised an eyebrow, “what? didn’t i say that i was going to fuck you until you’re begging me to stop?  until your naughty and greedy cunt can’t take it anymore?” he mocked you as he grabbed your hips and easily flipped you on your back, sensing that you weren’t going to follow him immediately. you moaned at his promise, anticipating your soon-to-be third orgasm of the night. at least you get to see him in his element now with your own two eyes, the punishment is over.

when you were positioned right where he wanted you to be, he spread your sore legs wide and rested his wet and twitching cock between your folds. “daddy loves your pussy so much, you know? always so ready, so needy, so good for his big fat cock,” he said as he rubbed his cock between your slit, groaning at the sensation. he gripped his cock and slapped your clit a few times with his cockhead before he slipped inside with ease, cum from the previous fucking overflowing from your pussy, sliding down your ass.

hajime squeezed your tender hips as he rode your pussy, thrusts increasing in speed the louder your moans got. you held his forearms, squeezing them as your tits bounced up and down on your chest. he moved his hands to your thighs, squeezing and slapping them as he moaned from the pleasure of your cunt squeezing his cock. he held both of your legs and moved them over his shoulders, cock going even deeper inside your pussy. you could hear the headboard hitting the wall and mattress squeaking as his thrusts increased in speed and strength.

“fuck daddy, you feel so fucking good! your cock’s stretching out my pussy so well, oh my god my pussy is made for you, only for you,” your voice shook as you praised hajime, nails leaving red lines down his back as he moaned from your needy words, practically folding you in half as he kissed you sloppily, tongues and teeth clashing. he pulled away from you, a string of saliva connecting the both of you, he slowly licked it off with his tongue and spit it back inside your mouth, “swallow,” he ordered, his thrusts slightly wavering as you followed with a moan of your own and extra squeeze of your slutty cunt.

his breathing became more erratic, heavier as he brings one hand from your shaking leg on his shoulders to put it around your throat as he thrusts harder and faster, cunt squeezing his cock, making him lightheaded, “you like that, baby? fuck, you really are daddy’s little slut. perfect pussy milking my cock for all its worth,” he groaned, his hand applying slight pressure at the sides of your neck.

you were nearing your orgasm, legs twitching and your moans becoming louder and higher. hajime’s groans and grunts were getting louder and louder as his eyes were trained on where the two of you were connected, his cock going in and out of your slutty pussy. he removed his hand from your throat and leg, clasping your hands, fingers intertwined with yours.

your legs fell from his shoulders and you planted your feet on the bed as you met him thrust for thrust, the sounds of your skin meeting his like a clap of thunder. your eyes were open but you couldn’t see anything, mouth open wide as your tongue lolled out, moaning unintelligible words as his cock hit your g-spot over and over.

hajime moved your intertwined hands between the both of you, tangled fingers playing with your clit, tears streaming down your face as your battered and overstimulated clit was about to reach yet another orgasm.

“da-daddy t-too m-much, oh my god,” you cried in both pleasure and pain. “you can do it baby, one more, give daddy one more orgasm, yes baby, just like that, cum for me, cum for daddy–FUCK!” hajime moaned in your ear, hips slamming into you so hard that his cock teased the entrance of your cervix.

he stiffened as he spilled all his load inside your pussy, hips slowing down as the both of you rode out your orgasms together. he swallowed your moans with his mouth, lips and tongue languidly sliding over yours as your chests rose up and down from the intense orgasm that you just experienced.

he slowly pulled out and you whined at the loss of contact, used to being so full of his cock. he stared at your gaping hole with fascination, creamy cum pouring from your pussy and falling down to the crevice of your ass. his fingers gathered the excess cum and tried his best to put it all back in your spent pussy. “can’t let it go to waste,” he said with a mischievous smile as you moaned from the stimulation.

after hajime was done “not letting it go to waste”, he stood up and you watched his muscular and sexy backside disappear to the bathroom. he came out a few moments later, warm towel in one hand as he wiped your inner thighs carefully so as to not spill the sticky mess of your cum and his between your legs. he was murmuring praises and reassurances in your ear, kissing your temple and hair.

he kissed you softly and sweetly as you laid naked in his strong arms, dirty sheets piled on the floor. “i love you baby, thank you for tonight,” he said with his eyes closed, lips stretched into that beautiful smile you loved. “i love you too hajime,” you replied, slowly drifting off to sleep with a smile on your face.

as he promised, you weren’t able to walk the next day.

[10:53 PM]

[animeyanderelover]

Hello again! Can I have prompt 46 with Ash? Tnx

Recently I told my friend that I had a lot of requests about him and she laughed about it. She doesn't really like him, but she gives him credit since he looks good.

Tw: Yandere themes, unhealthy mindset, unhealthy relationship, possessiveness, obsessiveness, delusions, extreme paranoia, isolation, desperation, mentions of kidnapping,overprotectiveness, mentions of self-harm, Stockholm syndrome

Prompt 46: "Can I...can I kiss you?"

It was nothing less than a miracle that someone like you existed, someone who was cleansed from all the sins of this world and the corruption of humans. You were radiating with everything Ash had wanted for this world, a world that he wanted to give to you. It was the minimum from what she should and would do for you, it was his duty as your very own guardian angel. A role he was utterly dedicated too, devoted to his very own angel who forgave him his sins every time.

It was true, you had forgiven him his crimes already a long time ago as everything around you had started to fade away and you had lost count of how long exactly you had been stuck in here. Somewhere around one and a half years would be your expectation, looking on how the seasons had changed through the large and closed windows which symbolized your loss of freedom. But you didn't mind anymore.

You only needed and wanted Ash, your guardian angel.

There was clear tension in his body, you could feel how he stiffened up under your embrace. He had never really received that sort of affection before from anyone nor would he have ever wanted it from all those worthless lives walking around freely. You were the only person he actually wanted any sort of touches from. That was how pure you were, even causing someone like him craving something and falling victim to his own desires. And it was his own fault for being so weak-minded. He didn't deserve you yet letting you perish outside would be an even greater sin. He had to keep you safe.

"My Queen...what are you doing?"

Being able to keep his composure was important in front of you, though he remembered to have failed multiple times in the past already. Severe punishment was the only thing he could think of to atone for his failures for not being good enough, for proving himself to be so incredibly useless. Even now he could feel some unhealed wounds aching a bit, but you didn't have to know about his weakness and incompetence.

You blinked slightly confused up at him when he asked you such an obvious question, but it soon turned into slight giggling that instantly plunged Ash's heart into painfully warm emotions and forced his eyes to get wet. It had taken a while until you had been able to look so happy after he had quickly rescued you from all the evil waiting to devour you. The distress he had felt back then could never be put in words and no burns, knifes and broken bones had been able to make up for what you had been suffering under. Even now it remained as a anxiety deeply stuck in his heart. But looking at you now, smiling at him and not staring with wide eyes filled with fear at him, was worth much more than his whole life could ever repay you.

"I’m hugging you. It’s just that you always look so worried and stressed over my safety and never appear to take a rest. Just now you did as well so I thought this might help you a bit. A strong hug can be more worth than thousand words after all. That’s what my mother told me at least when I was younger.”, you replied softly, pressing your face deeper into his chest with a content look on your face.

There was nothing Ash could think of for a few moments, instead he seared the scene in front of him deep into his brain, how you were currently buried into his chest, looking so happy and peaceful. So stunning and precious.

Tears were quick to escape his eyes only seconds later, his insides stirring up with warmth that stung him and yet baked him with something he hadn’t felt in so long. Comfort and peace.

This was exactly why he had to protect you with his very own life, no one was allowed to snuff out the light you carried inside of you and that was able to even share it’s warmth with him. You possessed too much kindness to understand, but normal humans only destroyed what they touched, ruining it with their greed.

He wouldn’t let them do the same to you.

He would kill everyone who would even do as much as getting too close.

He just had to guarantee that you would live.

But first of all he had to calm himself down or otherwise he might worry you even more than he seemed to have done already. The tears were quickly wiped away with his sleeves before Ash was able to look at you again, still feeling like he wanted to continue crying. His heart felt like it might burst at any moment.

“You have so much warmth and love inside of you that I don’t think I deserve any of it. You shouldn’t even be concerned about me, I merely do what I have to do as your guardian. If you were to fall victim to this damned place, I would perish as well. What use is an angel who can’t even protect their chosen one?”

Pain was twisting his voice and face a bit when he dared to imagine how a world without you would be, a world filled with grief and darkness for him. Letting his guard down would be a fatal mistake, he had seen the worst of this world and the humans and he knew that it would happen again. That was why he had to be like this for you were his heart beating outside his chest. If something were to ever happen to you...

The angel hadn't even noticed that he had already started crying again, fist tightened and body shaking whilst getting lost in fears of losing the one good and bright thing this world had still left.

"But for me you're more than just a guardian angel. You're my angel and I want you to feel happy as well. I want you to feel loved as well. You do so much for me, but I feel like I only cause you stress and uneasiness. Shouldn't you be happy because of me?", you asked him in slight protest, feeling sadness whilst seeing the man you had come to love like this again because of you. You had never seen him truly relaxed nor had you ever been able to show him your feelings. He wouldn't let you, not thinking that he deserved you.

His reaction was instant, suddenly falling on his knees upon hearing from what you had said that he had disappointed you yet again, the visible look of your sorrow only stabbing his fear deeper into his very soul.

"I-I am so sorry! I didn't know that you felt this way only because I was so selfish to only think about myself like this! I don't deserve your forgiveness and accept any sort of-"

When he felt the soft sensation of your hands cupping his stained cheeks, he abruptly stopped his rambling, trying to not choke on his own breath that had gotten irregular.

"You don't have to apologize to me. I don't want to hear you saying such things about yourself. Don't you understand? I am unhappy whenever you are like this, seeing yourself as so worthless and not deserving of my love. That's what hurts me so much. You're rejecting my feelings. I love you, Ash. And I want to know if you do too. Because if you do, please stop talking like this and behave so distantly."

Your voice conveyed every bit emotion that was going on inside of you in that moment, something that Ash noticed with widened eyes as well.

Silence was cut short by him when he realized that you wanted something crucial from him which he would gladly give you. He had never considered that you would ever consider his love as something you wanted, consider him as someone you loved. When had been the last time someone had been truly kind to him and loved him? He couldn't remember anymore.

"Of course I do. You should never doubt my feelings for you. I love you more than you could ever imagine. It's impossible to function without you.", he managed to reply with a shaking voice as he grabbed both of your hands in his own.

"Then why are you acting like this? Everyone deserves someone who loves them. Without love it's a very painful life, isn't it? That's why I am hurting as well. Let me love you and I promise that you'll be able to feel peace as well.", you muttered slightly embarrassed out, leaning your head down so your forehead could rest against his own.

Slight sobs were starting to catch up to Ash as he was staring in pure awe at you.

"Thank you. I'll be better and make sure that I won't cause you sadness anymore.", he pressed out, tightening his grip on your hands only the slightest bit so he wouldn't hurt you.

"I'm glad to hear that.", you replied with a sincere smile on your face, joy stirring your heart up just by seeing that for the first time since he had abducted you, Ash was looking relieved and less tense. He just looked extremely grateful.

"May I ask you for a favor then?", you requested with a certain idea in mind.

"I'll do anything for you.", Ash replied, sounding very emotional.

"I want to do something for you for once since you normally do anything for me."

Hesitation and clear dislike instantly shadowed his face, the thought of him asking something from you going against Ash's belief in all the wrong ways. You shouldn't have to do him favors.

"It doesn't have to be something difficult. It can be a really simple thing. Just...something that I can do for you this once. Please.", you begged slightly, seeing the angel already struggling. You knew how he felt about such things, he hated letting you do something for him and he had never done it before either. Ash saw it only upon himself to serve you which was another thing that sometimes made you feel guilty. You wanted to do more for him as well.

"Can I...can I kiss you?"

Maybe that had been more a slip of his tongue, but he had been slightly panicking since hadn't want to sadden you again nor had he wanted you to do physical work for him. It was supposed to be the other way around.

So when he had stared for a moment at your face, eyes locked on your lips, he had considered somewhere deep in his mind possibilities which he had been fantasizing about a few times before, but hadn't thought that they would actually have a change of happening.

In his opinion they were still sinful, it would take a while for him to get used to the idea that you wanted to receive physical affection and love from him. The first impulse when he realized what he had said was instantly apologizing, only to be interrupted before he could even start saying anything.

You had already leaned down to fulfill him his wish before he could take it back again.

[the-nysh]

Did you see shiro ripping reddit a new one btw? Probably the only person in the fanbase brave enough to vocalise that Saitama’s be-all and end-all savior chara concept is problematic and other cast members have to suffer to maintain that image. Garou being the latest and most egregious example.

Oh yeah. :') Somebody over there has to do it. Ever since the redraw I've shared their same concerns (as in: willing to see the manga commit to its own thing, provided Garou’s core characterization & agency remain intact that is), and I'm pretty sure I've received several of their messages in concerned outraged solidarity too (so hi there), because I recognize the same strong language, and many of my own words from posts I've written, in support of their reddit arguments. They’re one of the rare few users over there who's always read Garou 100% in good faith over the years, so I know their care, trust, and dedication to his character and the understanding of his nuanced, beneficial narrative themes run deep. That's respect from me. However, holding back any shred of patience or pretend courtesy anymore vs reddit's continued bad faith idiocy (or blissful illiteracy) towards Garou's character, when now there's morally no excuse to try and defend the cruelty he's been made to suffer, is a completely different battle (that I don’t have the patience to engage), so godspeed there! :'D

In their unfiltered words:

Garou is the best character this series has by far and large. The only properly fleshed out character period. Robbing him of his agency by using a cosmic device to wank Saitama’s OP-and-so-heroic self shows that OPM at its core is just another isekaishit for self-inserters, with a rapidly forming MC stalker harem even. And that is not a Garou problem, that’s a fucking pattern already and a Saitama problem. He can only exist as a protagonist if the efforts and desires of other characters are constantly undermined. In the manga everyone is a victim of an absurd and explicitly evil cosmic parasite and only fucking Saitama is allowed to solve that shit with his magical punches. Garou is robbed of his agency and turned a damsel to wank Saitama, and S classes are just overdramatic punching bags also primed to start wanking their savior Saitama.

Which...I understand. Because on one hand of looking at it, it's true. In terms of the story's expanded real estate and narrative focus, imo Garou is best boy, no disagreement there.

In my words, his manga self is someone too fundamentally good and inherently heroic, that he literally had to be mindraped into corruption against his will for any of this to happen. (For him to 'go evil' as reddit dudes ~wanted~ simply for the surface 'edgy,' or for the sake of a flashier 'good fight' vs Saitama, at Garou's entire 100+chs of established core character's expense.) Because it was otherwise impossible for Garou to ever willingly lose his key humanity or put on a believable 'evil' performance to test the heroes anymore, unless some other Literally True Evil being ('god') forcibly did it FOR him. Trapped into a corner even after he refused, but still mindraped into a corrupted faceless void of his former real self, involuntarily turned into a victim to god's cruel agenda against humanity - its eradication, and now everyone has to unfairly suffer from that violation. Congratulations. (Where it's essentially become Saitama vs god’s agenda now, while throwing everything else of value and even the nuance to question what’s beyond ‘good vs evil’ anymore out the window~) And I can't believe some fans still have the gall to say that this was ever something 'good' for Garou to deserve. That this is ‘cool.’ To completely lose the best parts of what make him Him without his consent, and corrupted into enacting overkill nuclear wrath on the world (where it's no joke or pretense anymore) which had never aligned with what he ever actually wanted to achieve in the first place (fixing the biased injustice of the world, towards saving it). So please fuck right off with that abhorrently vile victim blaming bullshit towards him, or believing any of this 'god' stuff is a true reflection of Garou's inner will/desires, or you've proven you never cared for or had faith in Garou's actual character at all.

...But things are destroyed only IF the manga is actually going for that type of arc ending with Saitama solving everything for him though, which would yes, be terrible for all other characters involved (or well, unless Saitama has magic defenses vs radiation damage I'm unaware of, he's fine so there’s no need to worry about him) since then everyone else (but especially Garou) would essentially be sacrificed only to make Saitama ‘look good.’ (Which in my opinion of his performance as a good effective hero this time, he’s.....alarmingly come up short to properly earn the heroic title of ‘one punch man’ yet. Just as King’s lectured he’s not anywhere close to the ideal of ‘greatest hero.’ Pre-redraw he was much better and considerate, but not this route.)

Because remember how many posts I made expressing wariness and warning the danger of Saitama's (problematic) approach to essentially 'bully' and push Garou further? How I knew (from personal experience with a mentally unwell -bipolar- family member who was driven to....) how none of this would be helpful. It would only make things worse. Now we see why. Because if Saitama had taken Tareo's promise seriously without messing around, under oath/obligation -on the job even- as a reliable hero to actually help & save Garou, then all of this could have been prevented. But now? After indirectly pushing it to this point of no return, the same detached Saitama swooping in to simply 'punch' god's corruption out of Garou FOR him, would just feel foully unearned. Hell no. And again, doing all the work for him still wouldn't actually help Garou's psychological problems with his identity at all. So...thanks for nothing, I guess?

No actual Garou fan wants to see that happen, or made to feel like all their time and emotional investment in his story thus far has either been wasted by the author or suddenly thrown away in the trash, where nothing else but Saitama matters, as I said here. Because doing that, by elevating one character just to put down another - at the entire other’s expense even, only fosters resentment and spiteful dislike towards the former. So it’s surely made us Garou fans hate ‘god’!!! 8′D But under no circumstances do I want to start disliking Saitama out of spite either, as that would only unpleasantly lead towards the manga’s dropability. So is ONE sure he wants to do that to the Garou fanbase? By losing a huge portion of his most dedicated (eastern) readers? Esp if that’s all there is to look forward to at the climax of his arc? Really? There has to be more to it.

Where there’s some meaning or reason why, that ultimately works in service of Garou’s hero journey - where he can finally discover/realize/accept his real self’s potential, after discerning and rejecting the indiscriminate mass destruction he never intended, to assert what he’s always truly wanted instead (but could never fully believe in) deep down, towards his decision to become the type of hero he’s always denied himself. Not determined by the rules or expectations set by anyone, beyond even those controlled by ‘god.’ In which the ‘magic’ solution to this whole crisis also lies within himself, to somehow mentally overcome, overrule, or reverse. If there is any faith still left in Garou’s strength of character at all, to help him save himself. (Tareo, I’m counting on you~) Because Saitama can certainly punch things, but he narratively can’t solve something this integral to his character for him (esp if there’s any weird callback to Child Emperor’s mental ‘win’ over Phoenix Man’s corruption attempt, with Saitama’s ‘assistance.’) ...Otherwise where’s the catharsis? Then there’s really No Point for this ‘god’ development to happen to Garou at all. Beyond pointless physical fight escalation in which we already know the winner anyway.

So what else is there? It’s why I’ve made speculative posts like this. Where in all my highest hopium, if Saitama’s punch can’t directly solve Garou’s problems for him or save everyone from the effects of radiation damage, or even if Blast & friends have no magic solutions to it either (esp if they’re too busy trying to fix god’s dimensional seal)....then who else has the impossible magic power right now to change things? Garou. :) Especially if he succeeds in taking back his agency and turns that power around, from destruction into...? His own. To defy god and save the world. (Oh it’d be a miracle.) But by his own assertive choice of will this time. When saving lives (and the day) is a choice fully on purpose (just like he’s already done for Tareo & Bang), not by accident. He’d be just that good at it. 

[wyn-n-tonic]

Oceans in the Desert

Word Count: 1,176 Warning: This is a couple dealing with the loss of a child, that is the theme. It is softness wrapped in grief. I am including an author's note at the end because what I have to say can also be triggering and I don't want to put that just out here and potentially harm or isolate somebody. Anyway, if you're reading this I love you and if you continue on, I love you. But if this subject matter is too triggering? Guess what! I love you.

Gif by: @aomine-dajki​.

He’s…changed.

Since losing the baby, he’s changed.

It shouldn’t be shocking, there are two people feeling this sudden absence and it is a fire consuming the tangled branches of their lives. But she is, at first. The hard exterior he usually sported had begun to soften. It always was around her. But everybody else? He was no longer the strong Din. And in her arms? He was completely shattered.

She’s changed too. Resolute in the belief that a loving and full family wasn’t where her role was meant to be played. She expected his face to change when looking at her. Imagined him twisting away from her. But if it changed at all, it was only with the gentle understanding of shared sadness.

Their grief came in unspoken shifts. Hers flowing freely in the light, an open book adding new chapters to the pages he knew so well. His came softly in the night, the darkness veiling him in the same safety of his uniform, allowing him to become free.

Life pattered on in a four-four beat and so, too, did their graceful dance. Families are torn apart every day and the world doesn’t stop. The world won’t stop for them either, it can’t. To process is to work. To tinker. To lead, not to lean. It’s always been like that, the orphan and the runaway. But where they used to hold themselves, they now hold each other.

He became reckless, helmet tossed to the side. He traded the armor for vulnerability, seeking a different kind of anonymity in the eyes of the world.

“I think I’m done with this,” he whispered, “Ana, I can’t do this anymore.”

Her breath caught behind the ever-present lump in her throat, forcing her upward in shock. She looked towards the rough outline of him at the edge of the bed, heart leaping forward as the gunshot signaling the start of the race rang heavy in her ears.

This is it.

“Din, I—“ What does she say? She never was a beggar but this is different. She wasn’t losing him too. “I didn’t mean for it to all fall apart like this. I didn’t mean t—“

“What?” He turns suddenly and cradles her tear stained cheek in his hand, his heartbeat radiating through his palms. “Stars, did you thin—“

But she’s already nodding into his hand, holding his wrist in a vice grip refusing to lose his touch. He’s a space heater and that warmth’s not lost in the gentle laugh that escapes him now. It’s the sweetest sound the living quarters have heard in weeks.

“No.” He’s pressing that soft pout to her forehead. “Never.” The tip of her nose. “My sweet girl.” Her lips.

Water wells heavy in relief on her lids but, still, she says, “I'm sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, I—“ he pulls her to his chest and swallows hard, unable to keep looking into those big eyes still wild with the fear of fresh loss. “We are fragile. I should’ve chosen my words with care, I’m sorry. What I meant was that I can’t keep bowing out and acting like everything is normal.”

He stops, a ragged breath drawn into tired lungs.

“I don’t understand, Din.”

The quaking starts from somewhere deep within him, somewhere far below his sternum. Hollow where his soul should be, as if reaching in and seeking it out would produce nothing but empty air. The same vacancy has carved through her.

His tears fall like stars in the galaxy of her hair.

He waits five beats of his exhausted heart to steady himself before he speaks again, somehow softer, “I can’t continue to run and hunt and hide like this. I cannot keep living in transience and call that healing from my trauma and I won’t let you either.”

“You want a different life? With me?”

“I want a normal life. With you.”

“Din,” she’s pulling back, hands finding his face in the dim light, “What about the Creed? The Guild?”

He pushes a loose strand of hair behind her ears and when he speaks again, he is completely calm. Firm. Resolved.

“I will no longer be bound by rules I did not create.”

Her eyes are searching his, looking for a shred of doubt but there’s none to be found. His mind’s made up but, “Din, you’ve spent thirty-something yea—“

“Fuck the Creed, Ana. The only good thing they ever brought me was my family,” a ragged breath draws through him once more, “but they’re the reason we lost our son. I will not do this anymore. I will not do this to you anymore. We both deserve stability after what we’ve been through.”

The pad of her thumb runs across the curve of his cheek, the constant tears doing in weeks what usually takes years. Her man, her mountain of a man, has been reshaped in front of her. "Where will we go?”

“Where do you want to go?”

“Somewhere green. I think he liked green.”

He nods, sadder still. “I think so too. I wish I could’ve asked him.”

“I wish for so many things, Din. I would’ve waited centuries just to hear his little voice. What do you think his first word would’ve been?”

He laughs again and it fills the emptiness of the room, of them. “Well, he spent all his time with us so my credits would be on, ‘Fuck.’”

Her laughter bubbles up, lilting in time with his as they imagine their sweet boy, beaming up at them with his little teeth and wide eyes.

“And the thing is, Ana,” he’s settling down, chest rising and falling at a normal pace now, “I wouldn’t even have admonished him. I wouldn’t have denied that boy a goddamn thing.”

“No,” she brushes his overgrown curls to the side, “neither would I. He had us wrapped around his finger the moment he came into our orbit.”

His heart visibly sinks, “Laughing makes me feel guilty.”

“Yeah,” she bites her lip and pulls him into her, allowing gravity to take them both to bed, “it makes me feel guilty too."

“I keep wondering if this pain will ever end and then, in fleeting moments, I forget there was ever pain to begin with. Then it hits me all over again because I don’t want to forget him.”

“No, my love, I don’t want to either. They say forgetting is the ultimate loss. I won’t let you do that.” She takes a deep breath as her fingers tangle into the wilds that have claimed his crown. “Promise me that you won’t let him slip away from me either.”

He pulls her closer, wringing out what little space is left between their bodies. Lips finding hers in the gentlest kiss as salt water mixes in the shared space of home, he whispers, “I promise you.”

One day, the pain may subside into a dull ache. One day, it may even go away altogether. But for now?

The sobs that shook their bodies could’ve filled oceans in the desert.

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

This was one of the hardest, most cathartic things I've ever written. I lost a child when I was twenty-two and I did it all by myself while surrounded by people who said they loved me. I wrote this the way that I did because it's how I wanted my ex partner to behave, I wanted him to care and cry with me and he didn't. His reaction made me believe that nobody else would care or cry with me either. I stayed silent in my grief for years. I used to feel like losing that pregnancy made me a failure but when I finally opened up about it the amount of love and support I received was everything that I had been craving. If you are suffering through this grief alone, I promise you that you're not and I hope that the people you are surrounded by give you the love and the care that you deserve. I hope that the people around you cry with you. You're not a failure, you never have been.

[life-rewritten]

TRUE BEAUTY; TRUE TRAUMAS AND UNSETTLING REGRESSIONS

The anger, the anguish, and upset I feel from the last moments of episode 10 are unspeakable. I can not believe how flawed and disgusting some of the parents are in this show. And I'm not particularly eager to write when I'm emotional and entirely overtaken by anger and sadness, but I also wanted to address immediately because this essay isn't about the love triangle. I couldn't give a hoot about the love triangle; I don't care what side people are on, because I think it's ridiculous that, that's what people came out of this week's episodes and focusing on. Like really, we're still doing this Suho vs Seojun nonsense, like make it make sense? Like no one is perfect, no one is a monster, all of them are just characters and yes Suho is problematic, Seojun also is, Jukyung this week was even more so, everybody likes to focus on their bias and forget that it's not that deep, it's okay to call out Suho on his mistakes but to sit there and fangirl about Seojun as the best hero boyfriend or whatever, when this episode had so much more depth to it, that's ridiculous. Anyway everyone is free to have their own opinions, but I can't believe that this tag is still full of Suho hate, absolutely absurd.  Back to the actual focus of this essay, what can I say True Beauty has always been about PTSD, trauma and the pain and suffering of our main characters, how that has shaped them, changed their mindsets on themselves, hindered them from growth, love and happiness. In Episode 9 and 10 all our characters with masks apart from Seojun who just kept growing regressed and fell apart because of past reminders of their traumas. Let me explain more as we get into it.

First of all, one of the most critical vital themes of this episode is about Secrets, especially how secrets can cause disconcert, miscommunication and chaos. All of the characters hold some kind of secret from their respective partners, family, friends, etc., and in hiding these secrets, they lose their positive attributes because of how stressed they are by the secrets, how ashamed they feel from the secrets and how afraid they are about what the reveal of the secrets would cause. Most importantly, we see Suho, Soojin and Ju Kyung spiral into regression because of the consequences of their masks and secrets.

Ju Kyung: A flashback to the past

Truthfully I was very peeved of by Ju Kyung these two episodes, but I mean it's evident that this was going to happen as mentioned before, Ju Kyung has severe PTSD from her past with bullying and suffering because the world made her feel inadequate and worthless because of what she lacks. Although Kyung ends up with someone who completely sees her for who she is, is supportive and by her side completely, Kyung can't help but question this blessing as a curse. This is what self hate, and self-deprecation does, immediately she receives something good for her, Kyung starts to withdraw in fear because some part of her can't believe she deserves to be happy and satisfied with Suho. Now, as I said, I was annoyed, but also I saw her reasons loud and clear and I understood them because I related to them as well. Let's first look at the situation that occurs to cause her to spiral.

Her secret is that she's dating Suho. Pause. Now at first she's hesistant because of the fear of bullying and being noticed and being pushed into the spotlight because of his reputation. However, because of him being him, taking care of her, making her feel brave and loving herself (he does so much to show her she's okay being her self), she decides she doesn't care if the secret is out. Unfortunately for Kyung, another secret is revealed; Soojin her new best friend someone, who she's so close to has feelings for Suho. In fact, she also has really fascinating and important reasons for why she believes Suho should be hers. Now, this is what truly causes Kyung's trauma to appear again, and she becomes a mess of emotions because she has spiralled back into self-hate and self-deprecation. Let me explain.

Losses and Fears

In order to understand why Kyung's trauma is actually more profound than it seems because it does feel quite dramatic and unimportant with the reveal of other people's secrets and situations, her crying about Suho not understanding her and why she's struggling seems really overdramatic and not needed. But let me take you back to episode 1, Kyung has been in this situation before, and this situation led her to want to take her life. Let's review

In episode 1,  Kyung was confident and happy in her self; she had a crush on a guy who made her smile, comfortable, and one of the people who paid attention to her and cared for her. Now this guy she had feelings for, as she confessed; she discovered he had feelings for another person, someone more prettier, popular and matched for him as people put it. This led to her confession with this guy bringing out the worst side of him; it led to her also losing her best friend who she relied on because she went to the popular girl out of fear, it led to her being taunted and broken by people making her feel like how dare she even think she could confess. You have to realise what they're saying to her, one she's not worth having a guy pay attention to her because of her looks, two she shouldn't try even to get someone's attention because the right person will find that person and they'll realise their mistake in associating with her, three, friendship and people are fickle, and she'll always be alone if she tries to do what she wants.

So back to our situation, Kyung has finally found a safe space. The beginning of episode 9 she reveals one of her secrets (part of her growth) to Soojin who completely protects and stays by her side. Soojin becomes the best friend she could ever have, she relies on her and is happy because of her. So she's regained a new best friend, but also she's found, love. A guy has thoroughly chosen to be with her despite her looks and whatnot (she thinks), this guy is a complete package, he's a prince, he's too good to be true, he protects, he's warm, and he makes her feel safe. (Just like the other guy did), lastly, she's also now found a place with her peers, she's no longer looked down on, and everyone likes her. There's a lot in her mind at stake if she chooses to reveal to Soojin the truth. It just makes her vulnerable, and it makes her more likely to lose everything, she finally regained by wearing her mask. It makes her return to that mindset in episode 1, where she felt she was worthless, and useless, a burden, and she should take her life. So her trauma is ingrained in her and causes her to spiral into self-doubt, fear, and hate just because she's gone through this before.

Lies and Masks

Now the past situation made her feel one thing; people are fickle. No matter how much Suho is here for her and says he wants her, his love is fickle. It can change, he just needs to find the right person, the smarter person, the prettier person, the more affluent person who matches him. Soojin is that. But even more from what Soojin is saying to her, Suho is just exactly like how he is with Kyung. He's protective, he's apparently warm, and he goes out of his way to make Soojin feel safe when he doesn't do that for anyone. In her head, he just hasn't realised he wants her the same way he wants Kyung cause she makes him care. And we all know what happened when someone else found another opportunity where the girl of his dreams wanted him, the cruel words he said, the way he pushed her away, Kyung feels like Suho has every right to do the same because she feels like she's not in his league. Because people; her mum, her bullies, her ex-friends, even strangers have made her feel like she's not meant to be perfect for him because she's dumb, ugly and has nothing to offer apart from makeup. And that's just painful and heartbreaking. What is she to do in this situation, losing Soojin is already painful because that's someone who she also holds in high regards in her life, someone who she depends on as a friend.

But it's not just that. As I said, she believes people's love and care for her is fickle. Actually, Soojin is proving her right without her knowing, Soojin isn't being a good friend. She's going behind the scenes to manipulate Kyung, making her feel listless knowing she's dating Suho. But the issue is Soojin also knows her without her mask, her deepest fears, her deepest secret, she has a weapon if Kyung tells her she's dating Suho. If Soojin switches, Kyung reverts back to her episode 1 self where the whole school sides with the popular girl, and she reveals the truth about how she looks without makeup. She loses not just her best friend but also her new safe space and she regresses back into the girl on the rooftop broken and exhausted of being alive.

Real vs Fake

And that's the painful thing because the reason why Kyung believes people are on her side is because of her mask of makeup and beauty, Suho thinks he likes her because she is pretty with her makeup at least, Soojin became her friend because she felt she was different and prettier, and people in the school rate her high because she's pretty. It's all about how much her mask has helped her be reborn as she said to Selena. But because she knows her mask isn't real, these people's feelings, and loyalty, friendship also isn't real, she has to keep up this facade to keep it accurate, and to stay in this lie she's created as long as she's safe, happy and able to walk around freely being her self. Something people refused her to do before because she had no right to be satisfied being ugly and dumb. So you see it's actually genuinely traumatic and painful what she's dealing with.

However, the painful thing about the fickleness of feelings is that Kyung has Suho and Suho has been in love with her and has been consistent with his care for her from the time he knew her without her mask. Since they were kids. Suho spent the whole episodes being grateful that he had her as his girlfriend, wanting to show her to the world, wanting to be with her, and Kyung's need to keep secrets was pushing his feelings, and his fears and his worries aside because she was more focused on prevention and protection. Now Suho doesn't care for other people or see other people the way he sees Kyung, for him Soojin is barging into his life without needing to be there, he told her this, but he doesn't see it as a big issue to tell Kyung she's there because she's not important. But Seojun is important, Seojun has already told him how he feels for Kyung, and Kyung seems pretty reliant and close to Seojun who keeps crossing the line sometimes (like coming to her house and staying when her boyfriend is there, competing and what not) this is what causes him to get agitated and tell her the way he knows how. 

He's had no parental care, no training, no nurturing to know what's wrong and right, he's been forced to deal with his issues on his own, and he isolated himself from people, we can see he struggles with relationships, and he's trying to navigate it. So it's not okay for him to act possessive and controlling over who she should be with, but it also makes sense with his character when he doesn't know how to show emotions appropriately, and he's jealous and worried because she's being happy and close with Seojun in one corner and avoiding his calls and him in the other. It doesn't make sense. This is what I was peeved off at her for. Both Kyung and Suho are in the wrong in this situation, not just Suho.

Speaking of Suho, let's talk about this episode, his secrets as Leo and the reveal of how Seoyeon got set up.

Suho; A memory of regrets

Now the frustrating thing about this situation is; I can't fathom humans that do this, I can't understand how cold and heartless someone can be that he drives someone to take their life, and he still acts nonchalant and cold about that person because he doesn't care about rookies. Suho's father is incredibly disgusting as a human, and I completely can't stand him. The reveal that Seoyeon's demise was because he wanted to cover up a dating scandal, his son's best friend, who his son is literally suffering PTSD because he believed he was the reason his friend jumped. It's so disgusting when you think about it. This episode does an excellent job in showing us how much Suho has struggled with emotions and life because of his father's reputation, personality, and upbringing. And that's why I don't understand how people can come into this episode and come out with hate for Suho. Make it make sense.

The first thing episode 9 shows about Suho, which was actually foreshadowing the final conflict in episode 10 is his lack of a fatherly figure despite the fact he had a father. We see him interact with his father when he goes to have dinner with Soojin's own disgusting family, and we realise this is all his father does for him. He makes little quips about why he and Suho can't spend time together, and we all know Suho holds resentment at his father for cheating and sleeping with women, but also the trauma he had from dealing with paparazzi because of his father's fame, and the fact his father was barely in his life to show him emotional support and care. This is even worse when you realise again why Seoyeon got set up because his father wanted to protect his reputation, to sleep with someone, and because he didn't care about people's emotions and wellbeing.

Warmth and Comfort

Now the only thing that helped him deal with his father at first was Seoyeon and Seojun; it's making me cry again. The thing that got him through his tough upbringing was his friends, they brought purpose through music (another secret he's Leo), they brought happiness and care through friendship, and they brought comfort through their presence. They were loyal, close, and ready to help each other no matter what. His father took that away from him. Not just took that away from him but broke his mindset about how he views himself, damaged his relationship and trust with people, and pulled him into a spiral of self hate and self deprecation and regrets because he set Seoyeon up. How messed up can someone be? It's even worse because he knows he's the reason why Suho lost his friend, and he still had the guts, the confidence, the heart to plagiarise the person he ruined's song. Even not knowing that his son is the one he's plagiarising from.  His father took it all from him. He made Suho think he's a burden, his reputation is a curse, and he's doomed to be alone to protect people away from him. It's funny because this is how Kyung also feels in her own regression. Both Suho and Kyung believe that they shouldn't be worth interacting with people because they're burdens and problematic for just being born. For Suho it's being born into his family, for Kyung it's being born with her looks and brains.  It's incredibly heartbreaking and frustrating.

That's why it's even more painful because episode 9, Suho gets to stay in a lie for a while with Kyung's father staying with him, showing him the warmth, care and support he didn't have with his father. That's why we got that scene; it was to make you compare how different Suho's father is to him, compared to a flawed father like Kyung who's a headache but is also a good source of comfort and love. Suho finally got to feel that care that he was lacking. But still, Suho's father's coldness and heartlessness also shadow to let us know why Suho is the way he is when he has a go at Kyung and tells her to stop hanging out with Seojun; when he is posessive and protective over her without listening to what she's saying. He hasn't had a significant role model/ influence to look up to. He also became like his father on the surface and withdrawn from emotions because he doesn't receive that. It's honestly upsetting. I am so angry at Suho's father.

Regrets and Resent

But let's talk about the regression. Suho finding out his father is the one who caused Seoyeon's demise. First of all, just think about how much Suho has suffered the past ten episodes because of this issue, he's had PTSD, actual PTSD, panic attacks, depression, anxiety, isolation, just because of this issue, because Seojun told him repeatedly he was the reason for why Seoyeon jumped. Because his reputation could not save Seoyeon, because he didn't answer the phone because of his callousness and also because he fought with the very reason for why this happened; his father.

Seojun made Suho feel like he was a monster, and he was never going to be any different because his father was his father. And the thing is, this has been going for a long time, Seojun kept showing up in Suho's life ensuring he never got to be happy (at the beginning not now), he never got to feel worthy of peace, love, friendship because of what he did to Seoyeon. In a way, if you actually think about Seojun's role in Suho's life for a while, he's been like the bullys who ensured Kyung didn't feel happy being her self the way she was because of how she looked. Now he's not as bad because he's not doing it purposely with that intention of psychological harm and breakdown, because he also doesn't think Suho feels any guilt or issue with Seoyeon's demise. But it's pretty messed up that the person everyone is hailing to be this perfect specimen was literally playing the same roles as the bullies you claim to hate in Suho's life.

Like I keep repeating all these characters are flawed, have made mistakes because they're human, but the hate and the bias towards some of them is insane and makes no sense to me.

But now Suho has entirely as Kyung went back to a flash to the past, he's spiralled again into self hate, self deprecation and trauma because he found out the truth. If he's already been struggling with not answering the phone to help Seoyeon; imagine how much of a monster he'll feel because it's his dad who set Seoyeon up to fail. Imagine the pain and suffering, the self-hate, the same things Seojun kept telling him will keep repeating in his head, his reputation hurts people, his dad hurts people, and his lifestyle hurts people. He shouldn't be loved, have friends, or have people around him because he doesn't deserve that when they can end up like Seoyeon. All of his bottled down secret; self-hate is now released because the reason is connected to him from the start, it was his father. So Kyung and Suho found themselves with their masks unveiled, broken and scared and terrified about the consequences of choosing to be happy and free. Now, both of them hold this burden and weight making them feel like they don't deserve to want to be happy, in love and confident in what they deserve because of what society has done to them. And that's insane.

Soojin- A journey of a villain 

Before I stop, we also need to speak about Soojin and her regression. Her regression is very fascinating and upsetting. I have been on edge about her character, and it was excruciating to see her become manipulative, sly and a full second lead this episode. But what can I say. It was going to happen. Soojin's secrets revealed this episode to Kyung is about the abuse she suffers, we also see a snippet again of her fathers sexist, heartless mindset about controlling her to ensure she makes the grades. We also see her regress back to hand washing and self-harm because of the news that Suho is dating Kyung. Now, her mindset in the last episodes have been noticing the warmth, and comfort Suho brings into her life. There's no one else who sees her, knows her, and can protect her without her mask. Suho has known her for ten years. They've been each other's support system to deal with their family, now for Suho, he cut the importance of her presence in his life because he pushed everyone away after, but for her, Suho has been a consistent person to rely on.

A safe space

Kyung showing up and making Suho open and caring made her feel fear and anxiety that the only source of happiness and warmth was being taken away from her. Suho is the only thing that makes her breath, everything else is a mask that makes her feel suffocated, even her friendships; she's not been her real self with them, she's been a perfectionist. Even her revealing her truth to Kyung this episode wasn't for friendship but for emotional manipulation, and it wasn't right. Like Kyung, Soojin regresses because she's afraid to go back to who she has to be without Suho's presence, which is protection, warmth and care compared to her actual home, cold, harsh and volatile. She had to latch onto something to stay sane and to stop breaking down. Suho, unfortunately, is what she latched onto. And it is a regression on her part because Kyung is her best friend, she's emotionally manipulating and hurting her best friend to make her self feel good and get what she wants.

Still, she's not even getting what she wants because Suho isn't going to pay attention to her apart from protecting her from her father as someone should do. Soojin has been a girls girl, supportive, protective, and kind to everyone she meets but now she's regressed to being petty, conniving and mean to her own friends because she can't lose her own safe space. Kyung regressed not to lose her safe space and for Soojin her safe space became Suho. Her regression is really unsettling because how far would she go to keep her safe space, and how far will she sacrifice Kyung's wellbeing and emotions for her own gain. She's dangerous because she knows Kyung's secret, she can unload the truth about Kyung pettily and get some kind of one up on her, which is sad because she's slowly regressing into those bullies that made Kyung's life hell.

Volatile Mindsets

In fact, she shadows like I said the popular girl in episode 1, she wants to get her way, and she feels slighted by Kyung taking it away from her. Also her self esteem, her ego is being bruised because she's meant to be the one for Suho as society keeps telling her, she's the prettiest, the smartest, his equal, why would he choose Kyung who is so far not that close to her level in any way. These are the kind of thoughts that happens when trauma makes you regress. Whilst Suho and Kyung are regressing into self-hate, and self deprecation Soojins regression is the opposite direction, it's regressing into self privilege and self-obsession, it's unfortunate.

There's so much more about this episode that we can discuss like I said everyone has a secret, but when it comes to these three, their secrets and unfortunate reveals causes them to spiral into a whirl of self-hate and pain, trauma and suffering. This has been building up for a while because their mindsets have been shaped and made this way because of all the hurts and attacks by society to them, not just society that affects them this way; with these three family affects them this way, Kyung's mum, Suho's dad, and Soojin's dad their nonchalant, and cold attitudes towards their children cause them to feel unstable and worthless, and also friends also causes them to spiral this way, For Kyung, Soojin has brought back a lot of fear and anxiety about where her life is going, and Seojun's past problematic actions have returned along with Suho's guilt to make him also spiral into self-hate and regret. Kyung, Soojin's best friend, has caused her to lose her safe space. These characters have been pushed into this by people they thought they could rely on, and that's what painful.

Anyway, if anyone wants to know my opinions on this love triangle,  I appreciate Seojun he's a great second lead. Still, he's not the one for Kyung or the right person as people keep trying to say, he and Suho are still equal on terms with who she should be with. The person she cares about is Suho; the person she loves/wants is Suho. She's not thought of Seojun in that way so respect it. There is so much more going on in this show than this love triangle, so much more to discuss and fight for, each character is human and makes their mistakes, but they're all so understandable and relatable, and the pain they suffer is just insane, the psychological trauma they all hold is too much to bare, and I really hope they find their way out of this. Because right now, Suho is not going to be okay, and Kyung is in danger of her past finding her.  I'm scared for them so much. This stuff may seem overdramatic and chaotic but with trauma and pain, and self-hate and psychological distress, it's not easy to overcome emotional abuse, trauma and mindsets that make you feel you're not meant to be alive, and all these characters are going through that. And it's so painful. Let's hope we find a way out of this: love triangle or no love triangle.

[unlikely-course]

The tl;drs of this very long post, which is about Gideon’s arc and her relationship to Harrow:

-Gideon’s arc in gtn is a corruption arc because tlt is not just goth but Gothic

-Gideon “forgives” Harrow because of Trauma and that’s definitely not the endpoint of how she feels about Harrow or their past

-The narrative knows what it’s doing

When Gideon says “For the Ninth!” as she dies, and thinks “this is the loyalty they always said I lacked, this is me making good” that’s not growth, that’s part of the tragedy of the moment. Like, the Ninth does not deserve her allegiance! It is, as Gideon was the first to remind us, rotten to the core. When she dies, it’s for Harrow, and her saying it’s for the Ninth does represent on some level that she’s come to new understanding about who Harrow is and how Harrow views herself *as* the Ninth, but like this is, I mean. Bad. Harrow herself does not deserve Gideon’s loyalty! Gideon gives it to her because it is a relief. Gideon is very good, yes, but the forgiveness is a response to trauma. The second Harrow shows even the slightest vulnerability or regard for Gideon, Gideon is eager to make amends because she has been starved for any positive association to others for her entire life, and Harrow was literally the only peer she ever had to associate with. She correctly identified that resistance to Ninth society was vital to her survival and selfhood, but also that shit is exhausting. That resistance is also partially formed by that society conveying to her: we have no place for you, we have no use for you as you are, and that makes you hateful to us.

Her response to Harrow and the cavalier role then is pretty classic! It is a relief to have a place, to be able to stop fighting, to give herself over to a structure sold to her as one in which she can support and be supported, to resolve the central conflict and most complicated relationship of her life. I maintain that you the reader are also supposed to feel initially relieved and even cheered by Gideon and Harrow growing closer and then gradually unsettled when Gideon embraces cavalierhood and the increasingly invasive demands of the trials, and has her mindset adjusted in increments toward sacrifice. To feel her thoughts turn in this direction is alarming! This is purposeful, and it is purposefully mixed in with good feelings, the same good feelings that Gideon is getting, to distract from and inoculate you against what is happening just as Gideon is inoculated against it.

In addition, Canaan House is a very particular crucible. This is not only the first time that Gideon has ever been bombarded with new people and experiences, but also the first time she’s faced these unknown external threats, which pushes her to unite with the familiar (Harrow) against them. Her past and present environments have made it so that the compassion she comes to feel for Harrow gets bound up in the idea of being loyal to her house, the ‘contract’ of her new role, and the positive interaction it gives her until the idea of her offering her life to Harrow is not simply necessary in the moment but good and right. Redeeming, even, when we as readers know she has nothing she needs redemption for. 

Gideon is so very angry when she comes to in htn, and it is not merely anger at those who have wronged Harrow or anger at Harrow for endangering herself. On the First, she made a simple deal: her life for relief from the emotional state she had to live it in. Forgiveness for some kind of peace. And when she wakes up that exchange is refuted. Gideon frames Harrow’s actions as a rejection of herself out of low self-esteem but also in an attempt to deal with unresolved anger she has towards Harrow, anger that cannot fit into the cavalier role she wants to embody, anger that she attempted to trade away but in actuality can’t. Because the role she was sold, the type of relationship the cavalier and necro is supposed to be, is ultimately false. It encompasses very real and deep relationships, as we have seen, but the framework uses these real elements to its own ends, the Empire’s ends, and despite its proclamations of mutual care the relationship is always at the cavalier’s expense.

This is what it means to say Gideon’s arc in gtn is a corruption arc. It’s not that she becomes “bad,” it’s that the corrupting forces of the narrative have reached out and altered her, worn her down, seduced her even. This is Gideon’s first contact with the wider Empire, in the seat and seed of its wretched power, and it has used her goodness, her capacity for connection (and yes for forgiveness as well!) against her to further ensnare her, to draw her in line with itself. And then she dies for it, as it demands! Wow. And the we have the other side of that, which is when Gideon says “For the Ninth!” she’s signaling to Harrow that she has come to value what Harrow values, just as Harrow herself, watching in horror, has come to realize her values are very fucked up.

And Harrow has indeed realized that by that time! Harrow really does travel such a distance in gtn, but this is largely obscured from us just the same as plot details are in the book, by the limits of Gideon’s perception. And let me be clear: this is a feature, not a bug. It is not a weakness. It is vital! Integral! To the above, and all it entails for Gideon as a character and the overall themes of the series, that Gideon forgive Harrow without Harrow having “earned” it or made real amends. The fact that she does conveys to us everything I’ve just been talking about!

Furthermore, this story is in conversation with a rather particular type of Christianity, but Gideon’s Jesus parallels are even more widely applicable. Forgiveness is kind of a whole theme with that guy, and the book is also plenty interested in what it costs for a human to forgive as divinely as scripture demands (to forgive as the bond demands, as the empire demands). In some ways there are good things that may come of it, sure, but it is not a purely redemptive force for the giver or receiver. It does not necessarily resolve.

I myself can’t say that I ship Gideon and Harrow in the way people traditionally think of shipping, nor as I have traditionally shipped other characters. Still, I reject the notion that that way of relating to each other is not a central part of the questions the book is asking. Like before, when I was talking about Gideon finding something to believe in in the way the adept/cavalier bond is sold to her—although we see that bond encompass many different types of relationships it is in Gideon and Harrow’s case speaking to how romantic love (much like that forgiveness!) is not immediately and entirely redemptive. I mean, Muir does say the series is about how love can be redemptive, but I think can be is the operative phrase here, in that it’s also first demonstrating the ways it’s not, or at least not always the way we think it will be--the limits and then the power. Trying to set that aspect of the relationship aside (like a “sisters” route or something similar) is a weak and queasy side-stepping of the issue.

Remember that interview where Muir says something along the lines of like, she didn’t write it as necessarily romantic but definitely homoerotic? Yeah. 

Despite all that I do want to make it clear that I hope Gideon and Harrow work it out in the end. Just don’t assume the narrative does not understand what working it out might entail. And who knows? I might have the read all wrong. Maybe Muir doesn’t understand what she’s doing. But I feel pretty compelled by the textual evidence.

[katzkinder]

Tarte Tatin

[Here's the follow up to "Strawberry Madeleine" I said I'd do! 🥳 Feat: Tsurugi getting all the presents. All of them. And a very special gift from Freya.]

Tsurugi can’t remember the last time he was so excited for his birthday.

Actually, that’s a lie. He absolutely can. The last time was when he turned twenty and had gone out, ID in hand and stupid grin on his face, to buy as much beer as Yumikage’s credit card could handle as the first official adult of their little trio (or as much as the clerk would let him purchase). Two bikes, three idiots, and three cases of cheap beer, all pedaling towards the ocean on a beautiful, moonlit night, not a cloud in the sky.

The only thing that had dampened his mood then was the heat of Yumikage’s back against his as he stared up at the sky, at the moon, and recalled the promise he had asked his friend to make, and the offer of freedom he had turned down.

Neither of those things were a problem anymore.

Never again would Hod have to worry over killing Baldr to save him from himself.

~~~

The venue is, of course, Yumikage’s apartment. The walls are thick, the living room is large, and there’s no one there but him to bother if they get rowdy (aside from the neighbors, but Tsurugi never cared much for what they thought).

Most importantly, though, it’s a familiar place. Every year, ever since Yumikage started living in the high end apartments, each of them would have their birthday there. It was also the place Tsurugi went to when he no longer had a home, his best friend opening his own to him, and Tsurugi had felt so guilty, had been so worried, about what that change would mean for them.

As it turned out... It didn’t mean much at all.

Of course, with his weird sense of boundaries and how touchy he can get with people he likes, other people might not agree. --Especially when he and Yumikage still shared a bed.

~~~

All the guests had arrived. First, of course, were Jun, Takuto, and surprisingly, Jun’s parents. Tsurugi had hefted Takuto onto his hip, chirping at them all to come in, and led them to the living room where they had prepared snacks, drinks, big, big bowls of pretty much everything you would need for a party. Chips and dips and little trays of veggies, big two liters of soda and a store bought cake chilling in the fridge, hard candies and caramels, even a crummy cheese platter with little tiny sausages and crackers.

Next had been Freya, Iduna, and the two subclasses Takuto had taken to calling his uncles, much to their delight. Opening the door, he’d been met with three party poppers being set off in his face, Iduna, Gil, and Ray shouting their congratulations at him while he had stood there, stunned, trying to process the colorful streamers and confetti now decorating his head, shoulders, and the entry hall. Soon, though, he was laughing, dragging them all in by the arms while Freya shook her head and tried not to look too fond, a gentle scolding on her lips while C3’s ace inventor promised to clean up the mess herself.

Four presents joined the pile, and four more members of his family joined the festivities.

Finally came the Sloth pair, Kuro and Mahiru, and the gift he had been told to open immediately. The one that almost made him cry. So small, so little, so… Perfect.

Turning to bring them back to the group, Tsurugi thought to himself, All these people… Are happy I was born.

At that point, the tears he had been holding back started to overflow, quickly dripping down his face and onto the floor, much to the Sloth pair’s worry. Even Kuro, as blank faced as he normally kept himself, was clearly startled. Clearly worried. About him.

It only made the tears come faster.

“Uwah! Tsurugi-san?! Why are you crying!”

A watery laugh, quickly wiping his face on the back of his hand while Mahiru crowded closer to fuss. “I’m just glad you’re all here is all…!”

Ah. How embarrassing.

~~~

As it turned out, they didn’t need that second, store bought cake at all. The one Mahiru had brought with him, had made himself from scratch, was more than enough. There were even leftovers, sitting happily in Yumikage’s fridge and waiting to be devoured the next day.

And, of course, after cake came presents.

Jun’s parents had given him a new set of chopsticks, glossy black ones patterned with colorful paper cranes, and a matching paper crane shaped ceramic rest to go with them. From Gil and Ray, he’d received a new wallet, smelling of leather and, frankly, making him too nervous to ask if it was genuine or not. Such an expensive gift was… Not something he deserved, he felt, but he’d accept it gratefully nonetheless. From Takuto, he’d gotten the most adorable little wolf themed coin purse, as well as a handmade card. Jun gave him a new to go mug. Yumikage had grinned, sliding him a little box containing earrings that sparkled and showe and Tsurugi very nearly leapt at him if it weren’t for his idiot friend clarifying “They’re fake, dumbass. You like sparkly stuff though, right?”

“Don’t scare me like that!” he had complained, swatting Yumikage on the chest while the other man had snickered to himself. Really, he should have known better.

And now, he is here, with Iduna thrusting a misshapen gift into his arms with the biggest, most excited grin.

… He hopes it doesn’t blow up.

Tearing the bright, shiny paper away reveals a pillow shaped like a strawberry, red fading into pink and green leaves at the top. The smell immediately slaps him in the face and he wastes no time burying himself in it, a reverent, “It’s so soft…!” on his lips that make the people around him giggle. “Jun-chan, feel how soft it is!”

“I modified a pillow I bought for you!” Iduna gushes, and Tsurugi’s attention snaps to her, her cheeks just as rosy as his no doubt are with elation. “Freya helped me add a little pocket with velcro so I could put a scent pack inside! Also it’s made with memory foam so you can squish it as much as you want and it’ll always go back to it’s proper shape! Oh, and, here’s the remote, cuz I added a temperature change feature, too, so it’s never too hot or too cold and…” A hand on her shoulder has her chattering trailing off and she peeks at Ray, who seems to be holding back laughter. “Ah, oops! Sorry...” A sheepish chuckle, the girl wilting ever so slightly. “I just got so excited from your reaction…”

“I love it,” Tsurugi assures her, squeezing the gift tight. “Iduna-chan’s so smart! I’d be excited to give this to somebody, too!”

Iduna perks up once more, back to her beaming smile, and Freya… Nudges her present forward. For some reason, she looks nervous, and Tsurugi reaches for it curiously.

“Lately, I’ve been… Looking into making jewelry,” she explains, arms folded across her chest and black gloved fingers digging into her skin, awaiting Tsurugi’s response as he slides back the cover on the box. “Iduna showed me how to work with some of her tools, like things for cutting metal…”

“Freya…” Tsurugi breathes, cutting what he now realizes are anxious ramblings over having an overlapping gift short, “You made these?” In that little aqua colored box, with its white ribbon and bow so cutely done on top, are a set of earrings. Where Yumikage’s had been studs, these would dangle, little seashells carefully connected to ribbon by a simple loop of gold and a single bead, the same yellow as his eyes. Picking one up, the deep, navy colored ribbons, satin finish, flutter delicately. “They’re beautiful…”

He glances away from his gift just in time to see Freya start to turn pink. He swallows, wets his lips, and carefully, carefully, brings the box closer to his chest. “I can really have this? Like, really really?”

“Of course you can,” Freya answers, relaxing ever so slightly. “I made them for you.”

Right. That’s right. These were… Made especially for him. Him, Kamiya Tsurugi, twenty seven years old today. This gift… Is his. It’s his alone.

… Oh. That’s right. Back then… Freya had asked for…

I don’t have anything I can give to you…

You have two of these. Maybe you can give me one.

We… Except this body… Have nothing else to call our own. Aside from that… There is nothing I can offer.

In this world… Exists things that you should share and bear the burden of with other people, as well as things you yourself must treasure. You must… Understand which is which.

A… Are you angry...?

I am.

Back then, he had told her… That he had given up. Back then, what she had wanted… Was for him to take her hand. In the end... He hadn't. But they were happy.

“... Freya. Are you proud of me? I finally… Grew up!” I finally got angry. I finally fought back.

“... I am. Very, very, proud.”

[whumpingcrow]

Pt. 23 "Darling Boy Self Destructs"

CW: whump aftermath, PTSD/nightmares, conditioned whumpee, self harm (graphic), injury description, blood, whumpee refusing to eat, dehumanizing language/themes, discussion of past abuse/noncon, tourettes/ticcing, panic attack, past foster care mention, lots of angsty caretaker, cute little bandaging up fluff (let me know if i missed anything!)

Leo had to keep reminding Tyson that recovery wasn't linear, that sometimes it got worse before it got better. And most days it seemed to be getting far worse. Tyson was patient, for the most part, he understood that what Elias was working through was painful and confusing and it was going to take time to adjust. But there were some days that patience was spread too thin, and Tyson found himself breaking his own rules when he desperately needed a quick fix, bitterness lingering on his tongue for hours after he said the things he hated saying to Elias. He was in love with him, and it disgusted him to have to speak to him in the patronizing way that people often spoke to dogs. The way that August spoke to Elias. Quite a few times he had to call Allen or Leo over to help him when he couldn't handle it himself, and he felt guilty for not being able to help Elias on his own. It was stressful, but it worked, and usually the situation de-escalated before there was any harm done.

Usually. Today was an exception.

It was going to be a rough morning, Tyson could already tell when he woke up and Elias wasn't next to him, but rather asleep across the room, back pressed against the wall and all of his limbs tucked close to his body to protect himself. When did he get there, why didn't Tyson wake up when he left? With a huff, he stood from the bed and knelt in front of him, looking at him for a moment. In the rare moments that Elias was sleeping like this, Tyson just wanted Elias to sleep for as long as he could so he could watch him. He looked so at peace, his face serene and his body still.

It was getting late though, and Tyson figured it would be better to wake him easily now than to wait for a nightmare to do it. Apparently, he was wrong about that, because the second Tyson's hand brushed against his shoulder, Elias was bolting upright, eyes blown and panicked. Tyson didn't know he was only used to being woken up out of a peaceful sleep to receive punishment or to be used, but the horrified look on his face said enough.

"Elias, it's ok," he grumbled tiredly, wiping his eyes to try and wake himself up a little. "It's time to wake up, love."

Elias pulled his knees to his chest, looking up at Tyson like he had no idea who he was and was afraid to be near him. This was customary now, Elias always woke up disoriented and confused, no recognition on his face, only fear. It made Tyson sad, sure, but he had been getting used to it, and it only lasted a minute anyway. When the minute passed and Elias seemed to relax a fraction, Tyson allowed himself to stretch and yawn a little.

"Why were you sleeping on the floor?" He asked him, keeping his tone light and conversational, so Elias wouldn't feel like he was in trouble.

Elias was silent, so silent that Tyson glanced at his shoulders to see if he was breathing still. Finally, he cleared his throat a little, looking down at Tyson's hands. They weren't balled up into fists, weren't shaking in anger, weren't even reaching for him. He was safe.

"It's...the bed is too nice." He knew that was the wrong answer from the way Tyson closed his eyes and took a deep breath. But it was the truth! At some point in the night he woke up and realized it, and, through his tired haze, thought that it only made sense to go sleep on the floor like the animal he was.

Things like this had been happening a lot since he'd been home. Tyson didn't understand what caused it, but Elias would suddenly start acting the way he was forced to with August, no matter how many times Tyson told him that he was home and safe and he didn't have to do any of that here, he could be himself, not August's pet. Tyson was too upset at the thought to ever admit it out loud, but he was starting to think that Elias didn't know how to be himself anymore.

Tyson decided the argument wasn't worth it right then, Elias was too freaked out to understand and he was too tired to explain. "You wanna help me make breakfast?" He asked him. Elias seemed glad he wasn't going to pester him about being on the floor again, and he stood up and followed close behind Tyson to the kitchen.

It was alright again for a little bit, Elias was rather quiet and low energy, but he did everything he was asked to help with cooking, otherwise he stood poised, a few feet to the side of Tyson in case he needed him again. It was sort of bumming him out that Elias didn't realize that "help me cook breakfast" really meant "spend time with me in the kitchen, stand close to me, and make jokes and messes, like we used to do."

When Tyson looked over at him, his heart melted at the way Elias perked up to await instructions. His tired eyes were focused on him, he was leaning forward expectantly, clinging onto the words that Tyson hadn't even said yet. He smiled at him, setting down the spatula he was holding.

"Come here, Eli," he mumbled, holding his hand out toward him. Elias only shuffled forward a few steps, suddenly his posture was dragged down to what reminded Tyson of someone headed to execution. "You look so beautiful over there, I just want a hug."

Now, Elias smiled sheepishly at him, nodding to himself before walking into Tyson's arms. He pressed himself close, breathing in his scent as he hugged him.

When Tyson set breakfast on the table and instructed Elias to sit with him, things went downhill again. Elias did sit down, only because he was told to, but he couldn't force himself to touch the food in front of him. He tried to tell himself that Tyson would be upset with him again, like he was every time Elias couldn't convince himself that he deserved food, and that Tyson wanted him to eat, but each time he almost picked up his fork, he heard a nagging voice telling him that he wasn't deserving of the food in front of him, he wasn't a person, he hadn't been good enough to be rewarded with a warm meal.

"Baby," Tyson tried, his voice strained and on the very edge of irritation, "why haven't you eaten anything yet?"

Elias sat straighter, guilt turning his blood icy. "I...I'm sorry..."

"No." Tyson grumbled. Elias flinched at the firmness to his usual soft voice, then again when Tyson pushed his plate closer to him. "You have to eat, Elias. You've been home for days and I haven't seen you eat one time."

He really wasn't supposed to, this had to be some sort of test. But Tyson sounded more frustrated with him than he had been the whole time he'd been back, and he was pushing the food at him, maybe it was a test to see how well he could listen? He reached forward and picked up the fork with his shaking hand, stabbing a potato onto the end of it. It looked so good, he found his stomach aching against his ribcage as he looked at it. And he was so hungry, and it looked and smelled simply amazing.

Much too amazing for him. Giving food this good to him was wasteful, the equivalent to throwing it on the ground. August had told him that once, when he'd asked to have some expensive looking dish at one of the parties. He told him that, then told him that if he was really hungry to go do another line of coke so he didn't feel it anymore.

Tyson looked over when Elias's fork clattered back onto the glass plate, loud enough to almost cover the pitiful whimper he let out. The food was still untouched, apart from the single bite still on the fork that Elias never allowed past his lips. Tyson didn't want to be angry, he knew that this was hard for Elias, he could hear Leo telling him that this was just a small setback, but how could he not be frustrated? He wanted his Elias back, not this ghost who couldn't even have a meal with him. Why wasn't he willing to work towards that? To try, at the very least?

"Christ, Elias, come on." He groaned, dropping his fork as well. He didn't exactly feel hungry anymore, either.

"I-I am so...so so so sorry-" Elias began to choke out.

"I don't want you to be sorry!" Tyson snapped at him. Regret slammed into him immediately, he hated himself when Elias's hand flew to cover his mouth so that his strangled, terrified sob wouldn't be so loud, it made his chest ache with guilt. "Eli... I don't want you to be sorry. I just want you to get better."

Elias didn't seem to hear him, frozen in his seat with tears streaming down his cheeks and onto his fingers that were pressed tight to his lips to mute himself. He couldn't make himself look anywhere but the abandoned plate of food in front of him. He was sheet pale, like he was about to be sick from his fear. Tyson wanted to punch himself for making him that scared.

"Baby I'm sorry. I shouldn't have yelled, I'm sorry." He reached out and brushed his fingertips against Elias's shoulder blade, frowning when he nearly threw himself out of the chair to get away from the touch, stumbling away from him on wobbling legs. Tyson couldn't get a word in before Elias was shooting off down the hall, the sound of the bathroom door shutting and locking told him that Elias needed to be alone, at least for a moment.

That moment somehow stretched into half an hour. Tyson cleaned the kitchen, then realized Elias was still hidden away, and he went to check on him. All he heard when he knocked and asked if Elias was ok was a few mangled sobs and some sniffling. He didn't pry anymore, didn't want to set him off more than he had already. But then the half hour turned to a full hour, then two, and after nearly four hours of radio silence from Elias, Tyson was seriously losing hope. So he finally decided to swallow his pride and call Allen.

Another 25 minutes passed, and Allen finally showed up, surprisingly alone. He always came with Leo, and Tyson prayed that the two of them would be able to do this without him. Elias was still locked away in the bathroom, Tyson felt like he might vomit out of worry. He leaned against the wall across from the bathroom, watching Allen push himself close against the door before he tapped his knuckles gently against it.

"Elias?" He called out softly. "It's Allen. I brought you some cigarettes." There was no answer, just as Tyson was expecting, and they both deflated a bit. "Come on, pal, you've been in there a long time. Open up now."

Even though his voice was gentle and coaxing, there was no luck. Tyson rubbed the frustration out of his face, doing what he could to calm himself down before he kicked the door open. Allen looked back at him with a hopeless, worried frown, and it didn't ease Tyson's fears. He didn't want to scare Elias even more by breaking down the door, not when he was already so afraid, so he instead stood next to Allen against the door to try and lure him out.

"Elias I want you to open the door, baby," he pleaded, voice on the edge of breaking. "Open...open the door, sweetheart."

Allen turned to look at him, obviously surprised. Tyson never said that, usually if the ruined nickname had to be used, Allen was the only one who could do it, the only one who could handle seeing Elias slip easily into the conditioned pet of a person August made him. It must have been bad, he realized, if it was enough to make Tyson pull out that trick.

But it worked, just like always, a tiny click of the door unlocking telling them that he was allowing them entry, and they looked at each other in astonishment for a second, in disbelief that it was so simple. Four, almost five hours of begging and bargaining and all it took at the end was for one of them to call him sweetheart.

Before they could revel in the relief of being allowed in, they were hit with another, worse, bout of panic once the door was open. There was Elias, propped up only by the wall, his legs tucked under him so that he was on his knees. His whole body was pale and trembling horribly, he was only able to make out tiny, panicked gasps, wide eyes pouring tears as he looked between Allen and Tyson.

On top of it all, he had soaked himself, his clothes, and the area around him in blood, spilling out of several gashes up and down his arms. One of Tyson's razors was on the ground next to him, and he felt so fucking stupid for not hiding them after the last time Elias found one and used it.

Elias said nothing, looking up at Tyson with his horrified gaze, trying his best to even out his breathing. No matter how much effort he put into it, though, he could only inhale in short spurts, and exhaling seemed near impossible. There was so much blood, it was all over the place, what had he done? What had he done?! He began choking out broken sobs again, squeezing his eyes shut as Tyson moved toward him quickly.

The towels were slightly rough against his skin, and Tyson whispered out an apology when Elias grimaced a little. He slowly convinced himself to open his eyes, and he felt sick when he saw the pale blue hand towels stained a deep, velvety red from his blood. So instead he tipped his head up to look at Tyson, his eyes hooded and hazy, mouth slightly open through his unsteady breathing.

"Allen," Tyson said suddenly, "there's um...a first aid kit in the hall closet, could you grab it?" His voice was shaking slightly, even as he tried hard to keep his composure. He didn't look away from Elias as he spoke, and surprisingly Elias was able to hold his gaze, through the foggy cover of blood loss.

When Allen returned to the bathroom with the box of bandages, Elias felt so much worse. He watched Tyson's face fall into a disappointed, focused glare as he cleaned and bandaged him up. At some point, Allen asked if he should call an ambulance, and Tyson had to seriously consider the idea before looking up at him and shaking his head, telling him in a hushed voice “not yet, just give me a second.”

The amount of blood was misleading to how bad the injuries were, Tyson couldn't find any that might need actual medical attention. He wrapped the worst of the damage up in some gauze, and then gently pressed down bandaids on the smaller ones.

"Why did you do this, baby?" He asked Elias, looking back up at him to see the tears pooling in his dulled down blue eyes. He frowned at how broken he looked, how sad and hopeless his stare was.

"I wa-was being...being horrible. I made you upset. Had to be punished-" a weakened sob cut his sentence off, and Tyson sighed heavily with how pitiful he sounded.

"No, love. No, you're a good boy, Eli." This time it came off of his tongue surprisingly easy, probably because of the simple knowledge that Elias was covered in blood and it would make him feel better. He was right, Elias's eyes fluttered closed and he whined desperately in response. "You're so perfect, Elias. I'm so sorry I was short tempered with you." As he spoke, he reached up and gently wiped away some of the tears streaming down his pale cheeks, holding him close.

Elias must've lost a lot more blood than he'd thought, because the next second he was waking up on the couch, a heavy blanket draped over his shoulders and a slight throbbing behind his eyes. He was freezing cold, shivering, even, despite the blanket, and he found himself looking around for Tyson anxiously. When he finally found him, he reached out a trembling hand toward him to try and get his attention. He was sitting at the kitchen table, a few pieces of paper splayed out in front of him and his brow furrowed in concentration.

"Ty," he breathed, his voice weaker than he was expecting it to be, "can you please come here?"

"What is it, darling?" Tyson answered, already standing up and crossing the room to Elias. Once he was standing in front of him, Elias reached up and grabbed the bottom of his shirt.

"Cold..." He whined, his cheeks flushed beautifully from just waking up, much more healthy looking now that he wasn't bleeding on the ground.

"Do you want another blanket?"

Elias leaned closer to him, until he could rest his face against Tyson's stomach. "H-hold me, p..." He trailed off as Tysons hands snaked around his shoulders gently, then finished with a "please", just as sing-song and precious as always, so Tyson sat down with him.

He was gentle as he pulled Elias close to his chest. He placed kisses into his hair and stroked his arms over the blanket until he couldn't feel Elias shivering anymore, and then he simply held him. They were both quiet, simply enjoying being close to each other, wrapped up in the others arms. But it didn't last long before Elias was sucking in a pained breath and sitting up. He faced Tyson, sitting cross legged, lost in the huge blanket slung over his shoulders. He was only able to meet Tyson's gaze for a split second before he dropped his face down and instead focused on the only visible bandaid that was on his wrist.

"I'm sorry I made you mad," he mumbled, "and I'm sorry I hurt myself."

Tyson reached out to adjust the blanket for Elias, mostly so he could have an excuse to keep his hands on him without outright touching him, and sighed. "Eli, I need you to know that absolutely none of this is your fault."

"But-"

Tyson hushed him, tilting his face up so that they were finally looking at each other. "August is a monster. And I know he got into your head, I know he forced all of these awful ideas and fucked up rules on you, but that's not your fault. What he did to you was...it was evil, Elias. It was senseless, unprovoked evil."

He could tell that Elias didn't like what he was saying, that some broken version of him, the version that had to wear a collar and sometimes sleep on the floor and wasn't allowed to eat a hot meal, wanted to argue the allegations. There was a dense pause, and then Tyson was proved right, because Elias finally shook his head just a little, face twitching into a frown. "It wasn't unprovoked Ty, I deserved-"

"No, Eli. You have done absolutely nothing to deserve what he did to you. Do you understand me? You've done nothing wrong."

Elias's eyes were huge and tearful at the words, and Tyson grew worried that he'd spoken too harshly, that he'd said the wrong thing. His anxiety worsened when Elias began to actually cry, letting out weak, pathetic whimpers and allowing his tears to slide down his cheek and onto Tyson's hand that was holding his face.

"Shit, Eli, I didn't mean to upset-" before he could finish his sentence, Elias was tossing the blanket off of himself and throwing himself at Tyson. He wrapped his injured arms around his neck and pressed himself close, with more strength and vigor than he'd had since August got a hold of him.

Tyson didn’t know that no one had told Elias that in his entire life. In his early years he was made to feel like it was his fault he couldn’t sit still, it took him years to convince himself that it wasn’t. And he blamed himself for his parents handing him over to the state, abandoning him without a second thought, told himself every single day that he deserved to be left like that. No one ever corrected him. Really, August and all of his torture was just another thing to add to the list of things he felt deserving of, reprimand for some heinous act he didn’t know he had ever committed.

Tyson didn’t know how fucking relieving it was to hear those words, that it wasn’t his fault, that he didn’t do anything wrong, after an entire lifetime spent thinking that him simply existing was wrong.

"Thank you, Ty," he sniffled, his hands finding Tyson's hair and using it to try and hold him even closer, if that was possible. Tyson was overjoyed at how Elias didn't seem like he was panicking or in pain, and he was holding onto him so tightly, like he used to.

Of course, Tyson didn't hesitate to hug him back, reminding himself to be careful, that Elias was injured and sore. He ran his fingers through Elias's soft hair, down his back, then back up again. "What are you thanking me for?" He asked softly.

"You're perfect, Tyson. Thank you for saying all of that." Elias began to place soft kisses against Tyson's neck in between his tiny sniffles as his crying came to a slow stop. Then, he pulled away just enough to look at him, a small, wavering grin on his face despite the tears glistening in his eyes. "I love you."

Tyson smiled at him, tears suddenly in his own eyes as he said it right back. Elias ignored all the familiar doubt that usually came when anyone said that to him, because this time it was different. This time, he could feel that Tyson was telling the truth.