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demonicbaby666 · 4 months ago

Text

i. A late night text

Feelings Are Fatal Masterlist | Masterlists | ii

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Pairing: Jennifer Jareau x fem!Reader

Words: 5.4k+

Warnings: 18+, minors DNI, fingering, oral sex, alcohol mentioned

It was a single text.

‘What are you doing?’

It was nothing of significance.

‘What are you doing?’

It painted light on your blackened phone in the dead of that Friday night. When you should have been out with friends and not rotting in bed with Netflix pulled up on your laptop and a family-sized pack of Doritos nestled at your side. The city roared with life. The hustle and bustle of busybodies dancing, shouting and singing called so desperately for your attention. The universe begged you to live for once, not for anyone else but for yourself.

‘What are you doing?’

You knew what it meant–the true meaning behind messages sent after dusk and before dawn. They pulled uncomfortably at the muscles in the stomach, forced gooseflesh to pebble the expanse of your arms and raised the hairs on your skin to stand tall. They made you weak, ripped your resolve to shreds and forced the self-preservation you built for yourself to melt.

Regardless of the outcome always being the same, every night, you told yourself, would be the night you’d be strong. You’d put your phone on silent, place it to the side facing down, and recommence a wild evening of trash TV in which you would think nothing of debauchery.

‘What are you doing?’

Ten minutes. It was your max. Ten fucking minutes and the blasted, overpriced hunk of metal was in your hands as you nervously stared at the three dots that seemed to be taunting you, flickering back and forth until another grey bubble burst into light.

‘Case is closed. I’m back home.’

You were better than this; you had enough respect for yourself not to do this. You didn't need to answer someone’s beck and all.

The clattering of words typed out on your phone filled the sorrowful silence.

‘I’m outttttttt at the mo. Gimme 20 and I’ll make my way over.’

The necessary number of Ts needed was one, but it didn't hurt to overplay the whole ‘out on a Friday night’ thing, and it wouldn’t be the first time either of you had liquor running through your systems during one of your nightcaps, even if it was a lie this time. It was a needed lie. The tattered pyjamas you wore and the mess on your head wouldn’t paint the image you wanted in JJ’s mind. Dancing amongst friends and strangers, hot and horny, that was better suited to your dynamic–which, simply put, was emotionless fucking.

Time, it would seem, was not on your side. This was unfortunate because, even if your clothes were to end up on JJ’s floor, you still had to think through what to wear to both give the illusion you were flitting from club to club and impress JJ enough to have her distracted from the fact you were so quick to drop everything and come crawling.

It was exhausting–the need to make her want you more than she supposedly already did, the hollowness that accompanied every late-night visit you paid her, the following mornings you spent in a taxi crying on the way home, smelling the sweetness of her perfume on whatever article of clothing you'd borrowed from her. Most painful of all was knowing she’d never feel the same.

You needed it to stop. This needed to stop.

She was your best friend, for Christ's sake. You were, in plain and simple terms, your best friend’s fucking booty call. Your best friend with whom you were so stupidly and utterly infatuated, it’d been a miracle you hadn’t outright admitted you loved her amid a mind-blowing orgasm—which she had given you several.

All it would take was one text. Your fingers itched to type the words out as you stood over your unmade bed, teeth mindlessly nibbling at your bottom lip.

‘It's over. I can’t do this anymore.’

A single finger hovered over that blue arrow. You’d only have to click send, and all of this would be over. You could go back to pretending you were JJ’s friend, that it didn’t hurt when she was away on a case and most likely sharing a bed with a far more attractive woman than yourself, because needs must and all, that it didn’t affect you that she only looked at you with such fervency when she needed an outlet for her stress and that you most certainly did not want anything more than unembellished platonic love from her.

Your body’s need for her won out with the selection and subsequent deletion of the message.

The only dress available was one far too short for the evening air, and frantically searching for another was not an option when you were already lost in half sets of lingerie. So, you settled, even if it meant risking your legs to hypothermia. Even if it meant wearing a g-string in favour of finishing your makeup because that was the only pair of underwear you could find with a matching bra. It didn’t necessarily aid you in any way that the rightly impatient Uber driver outside was threatening to wake the whole block with a blaring horn.

It was pathetic. You knew it. The driver knew it from the second you tumbled into the car out of breath and dressed like a hooker. Still, he was kind enough to greet you with a grunt and murmur of your name, instead choosing to silently judge you through his rearview mirror and remain silent for the duration of the drive.

The city lights glinted defiantly against the blighting dark. You watched, mesmerised, as street lamps, neon signs, and lone candles swaying in closing restaurants bled into one. They morphed into one big blur until they were slowly replaced by the quiet stirring of TV screens and dwindling dimmed bedroom lights.

The area housing JJ’s apartment was quiet, eerily so. Only the hum of the engine, the distant shrill of a car horn, and the crunch of tyres against asphalt as everything came to a halt could be heard through the dense silence.

Another glare from the rearview mirror afforded you no extra time to prepare for what was to come. Your only comfort was a deep breath and a silent prayer that your emotions wouldn’t step out of line as you reached for the handle and pushed the door open.

Blonde hair greeted you as you exited the stuffy Uber, and immediately, you were pulled into a warm embrace so tight you could smell the familiar scent of JJ’s shampoo–honey and home. You’d missed this. You’d missed her. With hands at your waist eagerly pulling you in, you lost yourself in the feel of the warm body pressed against your front.

Occasions like these kept you coming; you were a scavenger, living off scraps. Pitiful was what it was, yet you couldn’t find the strength not to come running when JJ called. It was easy to pretend that evenings like these meant more than they did, that JJ wanted you more than just for your body, that you wouldn’t meet up with her in a couple of days for a coffee and act like none of this had happened.

When your bodies perfectly slotted against each other outside her apartment complex, your head nestled in her neck, and her lips hovering over your cheek, it was hard to think of yourself as anything other than made for one another. They were the type of thoughts you kept under lock and key, aware but discontent that they’d always exist for you and you alone.

You’d learnt to live that way because you knew your feelings were woven so deep into the fabric of your being that it was hard to imagine a life without them. Somehow, you knew JJ had always been there, rooted so deep in your heart, that having her infinitesimally, compared to how you wanted her, was better than not having her at all—even if it hurt, even if it turned your tears to acid as they burned your cheeks.

“You smell nice,” you mindlessly sighed into the warmth of JJ’s neck. It couldn’t be helped. Slips always happened when she was affectionate.

“You smell like vodka,” She chuckled.

So what if you had a shot or three before racing down to the Uber? After all, you had a lie to sell and were nothing if not committed to the gambit.

“Yes, well, I was out,” You muttered.

Shaking yourself out of your love-fueled daze, you attempted, and subsequently failed, to peel yourself out of JJ’s embrace. Her hands were stellar on your waist, refusing to budge. However, you couldn’t say you minded, not when she slowly walked backwards and spun the both of you so your back was to the wall. A thin smirk lined her rosy lips, and you settled on lightly slapping her chest when she wouldn’t release you in reprimand for her earlier comment.

“But then I got a tempting text from a certain somebody.”

“Pray tell, what was so tempting about this text?”

You reminded yourself why you were here and, more importantly, what you were here for.

“It wasn’t the text itself. It was how wet I got when I realised who it was from,” you replied, running your tongue along your lip.

“Fuck,” JJ growled, her pupils dilating. The release of your waist was quickly remedied by the grip of her hand sliding into yours and the eager jerk of her pulling you through the complex’s doors.

Unlike your own, JJ’s apartment was spacious. Despite there being a certain emptiness in the place, it had character. There was the mustard couch you’d spent many evenings eating ice cream on, binge-watching whatever JJ decided to throw on. There was the vintage coffee table you’d helped pick out and carry back from the local thrift store that had honestly seen better days now that it was marked with one too many wine stains. There were the pictures that dotted stone grey walls bright with happy memories—a couple with the team, some with just the BAU girls and the ones you most treasured, the ones with only the two of you.

In a delicately carved rustic frame was the picture of you and JJ at Sandbridge Beach. She was buried up to the neck in sand and had on her goofy smile, the one that showed all her teeth. You stood proudly above her, plastic shovel in hand, with an equally goofy smile of your own tugging at your lips. You looked happy.

It was packed that day, but after the three-hour drive filled with 2000s tunes and an unhealthy amount of Cheetos that JJ demanded she be fed, you weren’t about to turn back around. She was adamant about that. So you pretended that no one else was at that beach, that the people next to you weren’t rolling their eyes at your childish antics, that the water wasn’t polluted with the masses when JJ lifted you, slinging your legs around her waist and died with laughter as she dunked the both of you under cold salty shores. You were happy.

There was something so bittersweet about staring at these memories built on friendship. The reminder of what your relationship truly was tugged at your chest each time you burst through those apartment doors. Of course, you wouldn't have it the other way. Your place was no better; if anything, it was worse; in the foundations of every nook and cranny, there was a memory of your and JJ’s friendship. No, being here was more manageable. At JJ’s, you could - as you always did - leave in the morning and find solace in your empty bed, find peace in soaking your pillow with tears, relish in the shame of knowing in only a few nights, you’d do it all again in a heartbeat.

“Tell me you weren’t out for long,” JJ groaned from behind you, hands mapping a path down your back, resting on the curve of your ass. You could feel the frustration bubbling in her chest. “Dressed like this.”

You only just about managed to say, “An hour or two,” before the blonde had you turned around, lips turning your brain to mush as she kissed you for the first time that evening. Though sudden, it was entirely welcome, and how could it not have been when she tasted so sweet?

The first time you sampled her was five months prior. It was after you hosted a small gathering at your place, where drinks flowed freely, and laughter was heard from every corner. She stayed that evening when the place wasn’t nearly messy enough to need help. With a bin bag in her hand and conversation light on her tongue, she collected cups and wrappers, wiped surfaces down, and when there was nothing else to do, she crept up behind you and whispered all the sinful things she wanted to do to you the second she saw you in that dress.

Garcia introduced the two of you five years before; for most of those years, you’d pined for JJ, longed for her, and loved her. It started small, like falling in love with how she looked after Garcia. Then, when the two of you began to spend more time alone, it was the way her eyes shone under low lights, the way her hair looked after it was windswept and slightly knotted.

After that night, it was the smell she left on your pillow, the tingling she left between your legs, and the smile she plastered on your face. Then, as all things go, because happiness was not a thing you got to experience for long, life took it away.

The following day, she was gone. The right side of your bed was empty and cold.

You didn’t think much of that morning. Bursting through Garcia’s door, sitting on her couch and crying your eyes out wasn’t a fond memory. The blonde was kind enough not to pry, kinder to let you stay the day, then night. By the following day, you’d built your walls back up and reminded yourself that what you felt for JJ was one-sided and what she wanted from you would never be what you wanted from her.

“I’ve missed you.”

This. She meant this, surely. She’d missed the sex. Not you, never you. Telling yourself that was supposed to help, yet it only intensified the sting of longing caged within your chest.

When JJ’s tongue pushed eagerly into your mouth, the small squeak that echoed in your throat morphed into a liquid moan, and you thought nothing more of her admission. If you did, with most things regarding JJ, it’d have driven you crazy. Instead, you focussed on the fingers skimming down the back of your dress, curling at its hem and delving under. Her touch was feather light at your thigh, and whilst you appreciated her being gentle any other time, now was not the time.

You didn’t want her to treat you like a glass figurine, like you were something she could break, because she’s already broken you, and her light touches and soft kisses would never be enough to put you back together.

No. Only crushing you over and over with an iron fist and sex-addled savagery would compensate.

With one hand firmly placed on JJ’s shoulder, you moved the other to her questing fingers. Tearing them away from their tender endeavours, you rose them higher and higher till they were ghosting over your sex, mere millimetres away from your soaked panties.

“Someone’s in a rush,” JJ laughed, nipping down the length of your throat.

“Well, I assumed I wasn’t summoned here for casual banter.”

“The kitten has claws,” the blonde mumbled, continuing her descent to your neck. There, her pearly teeth nibbled at your thudding pulse point while her fingers remained vexingly still.

“Stop talking.”

Somewhere between dragging JJ out of the longue and into her bedroom, she had managed to unzip your dress and gift it to the corridor floor. You were equal in your endeavours, ridding her of her t-shirt, unbuckling and pulling leather through belt loops. Between all the kissing, it was an impressive yet chaotic sight.

By the time you arrived at the foot of her bed, you both had quite the view, JJ more so.

The look she got in her eyes was something you’d never forget. It was as though she was trying to take every part of you in at once. You were the open spread at an all-you-can-eat buffet, and she didn’t know what to begin with. That look was scorched into the back of your eyes and ingrained into every late-night fantasy. This time, however, it was shadowed by a look of something darker.

“Were you planning on meeting someone?” she asked, taking a small step back and frowning.

“What?”

You looked down, admiring your lingerie set with great pride, until realisation dawned on you. Before coming to JJ’s, you were ‘out’ without knowing where you would end the night. The red lace cladding your breast and sparse over your cunt would have led anyone to believe you wanted to entertain a particular type of company, and whilst any willing participant would have no qualms with seeing you in such a set, the look in JJ’s judgemental eyes told you she was not partial to that thought.

“That is not a night out with the girls' set of underwear.” Her eyes were back to roaming your body, only now the attention seemed more desperate.

“Would you rather I take them off?” You tried to rid the room of tension with a sprinkle of seductive humour. Entertaining the thought she felt she had some claim over you was moronic.

Maybe it wasn’t the answer she was looking for. Or perhaps it was. Maybe this was all a game of chess, and she would always remain two steps ahead.

Whatever it was, you knew your part in it was a mere pawn. Your job would always be to heed and obey but put up a bit of a fight, come when called, but don’t let it be known you’re desperate, take and give pleasure, but don’t let any memories of it fester inside you and bring up feelings of true significance.

At the latter, you’d failed - even if love blossomed in your heart years ago - but you could do the rest.

“Or I could go put my dress back on. If the image isn’t to your liking?” You look over her shoulder into the corridor, where your dress lay in wait.

“Don’t even think about it,” she warned, voice low and gravelly, fingers pinching your chin to force your gaze back to her.

Her eyes were two glaziers, flecks of grey pebbling her irises like raindrops on a sheet of water. Surely, you committed a heinous crime in a previous life, and this was your penance–to be tortured over and over again by your own heart, to kiss this beautiful and kind woman, have opened the depths of your soul to her, and have her see nothing but a body in which she could use to decompress and view as nothing more than a friend come morning.

These evenings, blanketed by the cover of night and veiled under the guise of necessity, would be the most you would ever have of her. And, yes, it was selfish to take and take, trick her into believing you were using her in the same way she was using you, but your punishment came swiftly. It was delivered to you on a tray of coal the mornings after, and time and time again, you invited the sordid torment into your home with an enveloping hug and salty tears.

Fingers dipping into your panties drew your attention away from the tempests of JJ’s eyes, and through the lump in your throat came a gasp, morphing into a moan when JJ slid down to your sex.

“You weren’t kidding about how wet you got.” JJ tilted your head ever so slightly to the side to nibble at your earlobe, sending a single electric current running down your spine. It was joined shortly by a second when the blonde sucked her shimmering fingers to her mouth.

“When have I ever lied to you?” You asked, somewhat winded. Except a couple of minutes ago, alongside every time I pretend not to hold you in my heart. “This is what you do to me.” At least that wasn’t a lie.

While JJ was momentarily distracted by your admission, you took the opportunity to level your state of undress. Dropping to your knees, you tugged her trousers down and over her ankles, pressing kisses into the meat of her thighs. She showed no reservation or aversion. If anything, her fingers threading through your hair was a cue to offer her more from your auspicious position.

And offer, you did.

Moving her underwear to the side, you breathed in the sugared scent of her and felt saliva gather at the sides of your mouth as plain want turned to ardent need. Somehow, by some miracle, you were allowed to do this—taste the most intimate area of JJ’s body, hear her moan above you and watch the gentle push and pull of her chest grow rapid.

Restraint was not something your nighttime companion liked to exercise, so it came as no shock when she used her sturdy grip to urge you closer. Despite her silent request for more, JJ’s head still jerked back and let out a rather loud ‘oh my god’ when you followed instructions and sucked her clit into your mouth. But her reactions had never previously bothered you, and they weren’t suddenly about to.

You let them guide you.

When her moans became strained and whiny, you knew to slow down. When her left knee twitched ever so slightly, you knew to move a smidge to the right. And when one of her legs hooked over your shoulder, you knew to bury as many fingers as she could take inside her and pump till her throat was raw and cum was dripping down your chin.

“You’re too good at that,” JJ happily sighed, dropping her thigh down from your shoulder and mustering the strength to pull you to your feet.

Happy to taste herself on your tongue, the blonde leaned forward, slotting your lips together and letting loose a contented hum. You matched her vocal bliss, growing nosier with the removal of your bra and the playful tweaking of your nipples. Her touch was addictive, and your hips pledged to reveal as much. They slaved away, trying to locate anything to grind down on, first the sticky material of your ruined panties, then, with great relief, the toned length of JJ’s thigh.

The inner turmoil settled down, quieted by the hastening pumping of your heart. You welcomed the fall onto JJ’s bed with a mere squeak and watched enamoured as she rid herself of her bra and underwear, then moved onto the mere strip of material keeping her from seeing you fully and gloriously bare.

You smirked at the wolfish glint in JJ’s eyes, the slight parting of her lips as she let out a shaky breath and spread your legs–an invitation to fill the vacant space with her body.

It seemed that JJ had other plans. In one swooping move, she had you flipped on your stomach, manoeuvring your body till your cheek was pressed against crumpled sheets, ass raised high in the air, and ankles hanging off the bottom of her bed.

“You’re perfect,” JJ breathlessly whispered, crouching down and using the pads of her thumbs to part your folds. The casualness of voicing such a thought left you dizzy.

Why did she always have to do that? Take your breath away with words alone, and on top of that, act like it meant nothing. It meant something to you. It vexingly meant too much to you. She threw these compliments about, always sounding so sure, so firm in her belief that they were fact and not opinion.

“JJ,” you whined, growing restless with the influx of poignant thoughts, desperate for more than her warm breath hovering over your sex.

“Yes?” she feigned innocence, taunting you with her candied tone.

You grit your teeth, taking a deep breath to alleviate some of the tension growing taunt in your stomach. “I swear to god if you don’t-”

Your own drawn-out cry cut you off. JJ’s tongue was back on you, only now it was consistently moving up and down the length of your pussy, occasionally circling the bundle of your nerves waiting at the apex of your sex. Even if it had only been slightly under a week since you last tumbled under bed sheets with the blonde or two days since you stuck your hand beneath pyjama bottoms and tended to your own needs, you were convinced the releasing tension burrowed deep into your bones had been gathering for not days, but months or years, waiting to be granted this kind of attention.

Her tongue was insistent, steadfast on your clit from the moment she suckled it into her mouth like a starving baby to its mother's tit. She moved feverishly fast, then lulled her pace. The press of her tongue was harsh on you, then so light you barely felt the echo of it on your clit. Over and over, fast then slow, concrete then pillow soft until finally, she had you dribbling between whines and moans, your knuckles white with the force of your hold on bedsheets.

The fiery inferno intensifying deep within your gut was utterly unruly. Its heat burned from your core up to your chest, down to the tips of your toes, which hung precariously off the end of the bed. Every word leaving your mouth was incomprehensible. They came out muffled, embedding themselves deep into crinkled cotton, and honestly, you were thankful. Between your senses leaving your body the moment JJ touched you and the disappearance of any inclination to keep things platonic between you, you knew what you wanted to say, or rather were trying to say, would have thrown a wrench into this delicate dynamic you both shared.

A cry resembling JJ’s name echoed in your ears as she picked up her pace, ceasing her teasing touches and now favouring consistent flicks of her tongue.

Abruptly, she stood up, and you would have vocalised your annoyance had it not been for what she did next. Using the full force of her body, she slotted her fingers in and out of you at what could only be deemed a brutal pace. Each thrust ended with fingertips grazing your g-spot, something the blonde never failed to hit, edging you closer to the summit of your release.

“Touch yourself,” JJ panted from behind you, sounding almost as wrecked as you felt.

You let out a hiss, your nipples so very sensitive as they brushed against cotton sheets in a desperate attempt to work your hand down to your clit. It was an outward struggle to maintain a repetitive pattern, the slip and slide of arousal making it impossible to work the set of nerves for any longer than a few seconds, but your efforts were not in vain.

The flutters of pleasure rolling around in your stomach were hastening, the shuddering of your canal walls around slender fingers was intensifying, and all the while, JJ’s misshaped voice echoed in your ears, becoming more and more muffled.

Pinpricks of light burst behind your eyelids, a fire roared in your stomach, and your hips caved to carnal need, uncontrollably rutting forward and back with the careful aid of JJ’s unoccupied hand.

Your body was being ripped apart. Every inch of you stretched so thin that you were sure this would be when you’d break with ‘Jennifer’ on your tongue and adoration heavy in your heart.

JJ did not let you lose yourself as you plummeted into the fiery pits of your orgasm. Her fingers, still tucked inside your twitching cunt, swept back and forth, hell-bent on prolonging the undulating pleasure coursing through your core. Her lips, pressed against your neck, moved lower to your arched spine where she lay kiss after gentle kiss. And her words, a second ago, hot and demanding, were now kind and coaxing.

She tended to do this–piece you back together without having ever known she tore you apart, often until you were spent and your limbs immobilised. That night was no exception. You gave as good as you got, ignoring the orange and yellow hues painting the horizon outside the window and the cruel reality they brought with them. It was when you could no longer keep your eyes open that you succumbed to the pull of sleep.

—

Most mornings, you’d wake up alone. Whilst it was a depressing reality to some to turn and find your sheets cold, it was what you’d learnt to prefer. There was, of course, merit to opening your eyes and being greeted by the luminous sight of blonde hair and copious amounts of nakedness. The sight would always be welcome, that remained undisputed. It was the urges you quarrelled with in the early hours of dawn that you had an issue with. You’d think that months of sleeping together would teach you some restraint. Alas, whenever you woke up to the sight of JJ, all you wanted to do was curl into her, wake her with soft, affectionate kisses and beg her to make you her signature chocolate chip pancakes.

That wasn’t written into your invisible contract. What was agreed, or what you decided was non-verbally agreed, was that you’d have sex, sometimes you’d stay for the night, and in the event you did, you’d be out of her hair before she started her day, so both of you and JJ were spared from any spontaneous love declarations.

Still, it didn’t make it any easier to remove JJ’s arms from around your waist, to quietly slip out of bed and force yourself not to look back lest you fall right back into her arms.

There was no chance you were returning home in the clothes you’d worn the night before; comfort was always essential for your walk of shame. So, you tip-toed over to JJ’s closet and slowly pulled the doors open. No matter how gentle you were, the hinges refused to allow you a peaceful exit, sending a painful squeak out into the morning quiet.

“Where are you going?” JJ grumbled, and you tried so fucking hard not to fall more in love with her when she did that. When she acted as though it was weird for you to leave before breakfast, like she wanted you to stay. It was helpless; when her droopy eyes locked onto yours, you felt your heart race and your stomach flutter. How could anyone look so perfect, having only just woken up?

“I’ve got a thing,” you muttered, throwing one of her sweatshirts over your head.

“A thing?” She gave you a cautionary look when she once again managed to catch your attention, her disbelief cutting a crease between her eyebrows. “It’s too early for a thing. Come back to bed.”

Why did she have to do that? Force you to break your heart by denying yourself the very thing you’d yearned for since the moment you met her.

“I’m having coffee with Pen.”

She begrudgingly sat up and levelled you with another condescending glare, “At this time?”

“Well, you see,” you said, staring back at JJ unstirred as you pulled on a pair of stolen leggings. “I have to go home and do this thing called having a shower so I don't meet our beloved friend looking and smelling like I spent a great portion of last night between your legs.”

“But-”

You strode over, bending at the hip to cut her off with a chaste kiss, ignoring the pull of your heart to fall back into bed and pick up where you left off last night. For a bit longer, pretend that this was a real relationship where you could kiss the woman you loved whenever and wherever you wanted.

“I’m going now,” you mumbled over her lips, ripping away to grab your phone and walk straight out of her bedroom.

You heard a heavy sigh, the thud of her head defeatedly falling back on a pillow as you clambered out of the apartment, heart tucked under your sleeve, tears stinging the backs of your eyes.

Taglist: @sincerestlove @hot4milfs @chestnutninny @theoneforhobbies @lez-talk1 @obsessedwjill | Click here to be added to the series taglist

#jennifer jareau x reader #jennifer jareau x you #jennifer jareau smut #jennifer jareau angst #criminal minds x reader #jennifer jareau imagine #jennifer jareau #jennifer jareau fanfiction #criminal minds #cm #Jennifer jareau x y/n #criminal minds fanfiction

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eetherealgoddess · 7 months ago

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hellooo, welcome backkk!!! I FUCKING MISSED YOU LIKE SOOO MUCHHHHH. Girl, I thought you left tumblr because honestly the majority of the best writers I also know left:( You're my fav writer so I was really sad AND GIRL WHEN I SAW!! WHEN I SAW THAT YOU WERE ACTIVE 3 HOURS AGO??? MAN I CREAMED. I CAME. I ORGASMED-

I also have a request!! Do you write incest? It includes it, but ofc if you're uncomfortable with it you can ignore mee~ it can be stepcest or ykkk anything you're comfortable with!! the story goes with mikey's cute little sister that's rebellious (both him and the reader ain't in good terms ever since the whole bonten happened)emo mikey finally snapped and decided to punish her when she did something VEEERRYYY unforgivable. He and his men (bonten) brutally like bruuutallly punished her. it can be smut or anything you want. whatever it is I'LL EAT IT UP MHMMMM SCRUM DILLY YUM YUM MY PUR PUR POOKIE WOOKIEEEEEEE

I appreciate the love and support!! ts had me dying LMAO

i do not write biologically related incest nor half siblings but i’m fine with writing stepcest (depending on the plot) and like a foster or adoption situation (all 18+)

i kinda sort of followed the timeline so there might be scenes that are not accurate to the manga/anime, tho i did it that way to fit it in better with the plot so the scenes aren’t as long <3

ALSOOOO!!! i could’ve made this waayyy more brutal but when i was imagining different scenarios i literally made myself sick 💀💀💀

ꨄRebelꨄ

Oneshot - Yandere Bonten Au

❦Was it worth it?❦

Sano Manjiro, Hanemiya Kazutora, Sanzu Haruchiyo, & Haitani Brothers x Reader

(Mostly Mikey, Kazu, and Sanzu x Reader but read to catch the vibes :)

❣︎All of Bonten are included in this story except Mochi❣︎

Not fully proofread

MY TR FANDOM WORKS ARE ONLY ON TUMBLR & AO3 UNDER EETHEREALGODDESS! REPORT IF YOU SEE IT POSTED UNDER ANYONE ELSE BUT ME!!!

I apologize if I get any Japanese etiquette or culture wrong, I literally have to research the culture for some of my fandom stories so if anything is wrong, please excuse my ignorance.

Notice:

✩Y/n is 18+. I picture her as a black female but you can see her however.

✩Some parts of the story may not be realistic or factual. After all, this is a work of fiction.

✩Although it's a dark 'romance,' I do not condone any of the behavior displayed.

✩Dark content such as: gore, violence, triggering topics, graphic scenes, vulgar language, explicit sexual content, etc.

✩There may be scenes that involve non con and/ or dubcon so don’t read if that makes you uncomfortable

✩That being said, this story is for 18+ only.

Enjoy!

Rebel

You were never one to follow rules blindly. You always questioned what you were told no matter who fed the information. How could you not when you spend most of your childhood shipped from family to family like a worn out package that's been sent to the wrong destination repeatedly? It wasn’t until you aged eight years that you were finally adopted by a man who asked you to call him ‘Grandpa Sano.’

You were unprepared for the generosity you received from the Sanos, having been in situations where your foster family wanted nothing to do with you. Your negative experiences caused you to form a barrier, an outer shell that shields you from the vulnerability your brain wanted to protect you from. You were cautious, unknown as to why you were chosen. When you first arrived, you were greeted by the oldest sibling, Shinichiro. He was kind, sort of silly as he displayed his quirkiness whenever you would spend quality time together after you had grown to see him as a proper big brother.

Emma beamed when she saw you, excited that another girl would finally be around to become her companion in a house full of boys. When you were comfortable, you gained a sense of sisterhood you never thought you’d have the privilege to experience. The last Sano you had met was none other than Sano Manjiro, otherwise known as Mikey. The first contact was interesting as you both gave blank expressions to one another. After growing alongside the boy, you could tell the kid had a sense of cockiness, though rightfully so as you learn about his incredible strength.

Watching Mikey and Baji fight when they would practice their skills made you want to become as strong as them. You would observe their moves every chance you got, failing in your attempts until you would eventually succeed, resulting in you declaring a battle against Mikey. The boy gazed at your stern appearance before releasing a light hearted laugh. You didn’t dislike him, in fact you both grew closer as time went on. If anything, you were inspired by him, even if you came off as a bratty little sister who wanted to follow him around with all his friends.

Even at a young age you could tell that he would grow to be a good person. You felt safe in his presence, knowing that he counted you as family. Knowing that he grew to love you as well as you to the Sano family. You knew that Mikey would never hurt anyone, his soul radiating a warmth you have never seen before. That is, until the day came where all you heard was Baji’s begging for Mikey to stop as you watch in horror, the blood seeping from the corners of another one of his childhood friends, Haruchiyo’s mouth.

Your hands trembled as you eye the onyx orbs that bore into the boy on his knees, a cold expression laced with nothing but a shadow of darkness. Your own eyebrows were furrowed as tears streamed down your face while you switched gazes between the two boys.

“M-Mikey…” You whispered, listening to Senju as she cried in the background. He either didn’t hear you or ignored you. Whichever was the case didn’t matter as you heard him finally speak.

“Smile, Haruchiyo.”

His voice was deep, almost as if it wasn’t his own. You covered your own mouth as Haru began laughing hysterically as his tears mixed with the blood. You knew at that moment that something had switched. You didn’t know what exactly the change was, but you knew that absolutely nothing would feel the same.

Time passed as you all hit your pre - teen years and Mikey had formed his own gang, Toman. It was early in the making though you thought it was the coolest thing. You had let go of the negative image your mind had formed when the incident with Haruchiyo happened after Mikey had given a heartfelt apology to everyone, including the boy in the hospital bed. When you visited Haruchiyo, the young boy had confirmed his forgiveness and encouraged you to give Mikey some leeway. He was once again your inspiration as you reasoned with yourself that he just had a ‘moment.’

Everything was going normally for a while, Shinichiro teaching you how to ride a motorbike as well as Mikey allowing you to hang out with him and his friends occasionally. Kazutora and Baji pulled you along to search for a gift considering Mikey’s birthday is coming up. Having had a small crush on Kazutora for a while, you followed them, sitting behind the tiger tattooed boy with your arms wrapped around his waist.

It wasn’t until the mischievous delinquent explained his plan, in which you and Baji reacted with hesitation. He waved off your worries and claimed that the best way to obtain Mikey’s gift would be to steal from the store that holds his most ideal bike. When you arrived, you couldn’t shake the familiarity. It’s as if you have seen this place before but you don’t remember stepping foot into a bike shop ever in your life. As you stand to the side while Baji tries to move the bike, a presence causes you both to look up.

“Who’s shop do you think you’re breaking into…?”

“Y/n?” Your eyes widen at Shinichiro as the realization hits you.

Although you’ve lived with the Sanos for a few years now, you’ve never once stepped foot into Shinichiro’s bike shop. You’ve only come across pictures which is why there is familiarity. It completely slipped your mind that Shinichiro owns a place that just so happened to be this one.

“Shini… I…” He turned his head to meet his orbs with Baji’s.

“You look familiar, are you Keisuke?” Baji stutters as he attempts to respond. Just as he said his name, you both gasp as you watch Kazutora come from behind with a large tool, raising his arms before slamming them down. A resounding crack echoed througout the room as the weapon made contact with Shinichiro’s head.

Your breath hitched as you watched his body fall to the ground, landing with a thud. The same trembling you felt from your hands when you watched Mikey tear Haruchiyo’s face appeared as you stared down at Shinichiro’s lifeless body, the blood seeping under his head as it stained the floor. Baji drops to his knees as he hovers above the corpse, explaining to Kazutora who the victim was. The golden eyed boy could only respond by hyperventilating.

“What do we do? What do we do?” Baji croaks out, hand meeting his forehead as Kazutora’s fingers reach his own mouth, biting them as he stares in place with wide eyes.

“I didn’t do it… I didn’t kill him.” His voice trembled. You watch in fear as you eye the hysterical boys, falling to your own knees before sitting on the floor, arms wrapped around your knees as you whimper before the tears stream freely. Your bottom lip quivers as you gaze at your oldest brother’s form. You couldn’t help but take part of the blame considering you are a witness that could’ve done something to stop this madness before it occurred.

You listen to Kazutora’s ramblings as Baji attempts to call an ambulance. It was horrific to see them so distressed, a feeling of impending doom coming on as you realize there’s no coming back from this. Your mind ran through different scenarios on what would happen once the Sano family found out about everything.

“Let’s get outta here!” Baji says to you both though you couldn’t move, watching as Kazutora seems to lose his mind by the second.

“It’s all… Mikey’s fault.” Your eyes widen as you gaze at him with concern. “I need to kill Mikey.” He claimed with a distorted smile, tears threatening to fall. You could only stare in disbelief as the cops were heard outside the building.

When you all walked out, everyone except you binded, a head of blonde hair appeared in front of you with a surprised expression.

You watched as Mikey questioned Baji, in which he cried out an apology as Kazutora chants “Kill… kill…”

You were there for it all. You were there when Kazutora spent two years in juvenile, only to come back with a vengeance. You were there when Kisaki became involved as well as this random Takemichi kid who seemed to have appeared out of nowhere. You were there for Valhalla's battle, witnessing Baji’s death as you held his head on your lap before Kazutora was arrested once more. You were there for the Christmas battle. You were there for the Tenjiku battle and you were there when Mikey disbanded Toman before he disappeared, followed by a few other people you had met.

There was even a time in your early adulthood when you went to visit Kazutora in jail only to find out he had been released a few years earlier than the ten years he was sentenced, seeming to have disappeared along with Sanzu and Mikey. For a while you blame yourself for not keeping in touch when everyone was initially ghosted by your brother. You wanted to give him the space you knew he needed considering he hadn’t been the same since you had first met.

Finally exhausted with your passive ways you decided to seek him out, figuring that you might be able to track the other members that disappeared as well. Although you kept in touch with Emma, Draken, Mitsuya, Chifuyu, and etc., you couldn’t ignore the yearning you felt to find your brother and friends. You missed them dearly. Unfortunately, nobody seemed to have known anything until you repeatedly bothered the dragon tattooed man to tell you the truth about Mikey’s whereabouts.

“Now that I’ve told you, forget about Mikey. Forget about the rest of em. It’s too dangerous, Y/n.”

Knowing that Draken is right, you listen. For a while you stopped your search and continued to live your life, working a 9 to 5 and coming home to your decent sized apartment. It wasn’t until you received a letter signed by the person you had been searching for. Once you reach the day that he wrote in the letter, you rush to meet him at the destination, speeding down the streets on your motorcycle.

Reaching the place, you eye the closed nightclub in awe. You wondered why he decided to meet you at this particular setting. You felt a rush of anxiety as you near the door, opening it before walking into the empty space. You walk through the dark room using the flash on your phone as you walk to the staircase, following Mikey’s instructions.

When you reach upstairs, you walk into the door he ordered. Your footsteps echo through the dark room, the sun outside illuminating through the open windows as a breeze flies across the room. Your eyes meet a head of platinum hair, indicating the back of someone’s head. The male who wears a black long sleeve shirt and pants sits with his back bent forward, arms on his lap as his head hangs low. The symbol on his neck stood out to you, reminding you of Izana’s earrings. Your eyes widen when realization finally clicks.

“Mikey?” You say, gaining momentum as you rush over to your brother. Before you could make it, a grip on your arm causes you to halt, as well as a firm pressure against the back of your head. You stare ahead as your breath hitches.

“Move at my pace.” The voice behind you demands. Having no other choice but to listen or risk an early death, you ignore your accelerated heart beat and follow alongside the body that shifted slightly to the side of you. Your eyes switch from the short man ahead to the person beside you, immediately catching the scar on the corner of the person’s mouth.

Sharp blue eyes suddenly meet yours during the observation, pink bangs swaying as his head faces you. His lips curve into a toothy smirk, eyebrows furrowing as he gives you a mischievous expression.

“T’s been a while, Y/n.” You turn away from him as you both walk closer to Mikey.

“I guess long enough to where you feel the need to have a gun against my head. As if we never knew each other.” You respond, irritation adding to your fear as you’re led to the chair in front of Mikey.

He only ignored you as his grin grew wider, guiding you to sit facing away from your brother. When your bottom meets the seat, Sanzu stood next to you with the barrel of the gun placed to your temple.

“Leave us, Sanzu.”

“Got it.” He responds before dropping his arm and walking towards the exit. “I’ll be downstairs.”

After giving you one more side glance, the pink haired man closed the door behind him as he walked out of the room.

“I heard you wanted to find me.” He says softly. Your fingers fidget in your lap as your knees are pressed together, feet spread apart. You chew on your bottom lip as you sit with a tense body, realizing the gravity of your situation and how dangerous it was to meet him with no sort of back up.

“This isn’t you. This isn’t how it was supposed to be…” You begin, shaking your head as you continue, “…I get it, Mikey. Everything that happened hurt like hell. Just because you went through something doesn’t mean you become the leader to a fucking criminal organization and kill lots of innocent people.”

When he didn’t respond, all you heard was your own breathing as you fought the tears that threatened to escape.

“You act like you’re the only one that went through anything. As if I wasn’t there experiencing as much pain as you! I didn’t run off and disappear and cause more harm to the streets, because there just wasn’t enough blood splattered!”

You had the understanding that you could be digging your own grave. The sorrow and anger hitting you all at once had your words slipping out fast. You missed him, who he was before. How could he have abandoned you like that?

“Y-you could’ve come to me. We could’ve been there and experienced it all together, Mikey. I-I know you’re just in pain, but I’m here. I’ve always been there.” You say the last sentence softly as your vision blurred from the moisture.

You listened as you heard rustling behind you, followed by footsteps leading towards your sitting figure. Your sobs went silent as a figure shadowed over you. The cold impact of the gun against your head causes goosebumps to run across your arms, a chill running up your back as you make eye contact with the man holding a weapon against your forehead.

Anyone could lose themselves in the void of his orbs. They bore into you coldly as he gazed down at you with a blank yet intense expression. Your bottom lip quivered as your eyebrows furrow angrily. His arm follows as you stand from your seat slowly.

“Is this all you know how to do now?” You almost growl, exhausted by the behavior your brother displays when you know he clearly has a hard time communicating his emotions. “Shoot whoever questions you. Murder instead of speaking on how you feel. When are you gonna grow up, Mikey?”

“Shut up.” He hissed. “You know nothing.” You only stare back in response, glaring at him as the gun cocks.

“Leave.” He states before lowering his arm. You watch the male as he makes his way to the exit. Before he walks out of the opened door, he turns his head to the side slightly, gaze still ahead.

“If we ever see each other again… I’ll kill you.” You chew the skin on the inside of your cheek as a nervous habit when he walks out, leaving you to allow the words to sink in.

In that moment, you determined that you would find a way to bring back the real Mikey. You couldn’t accept this. You would never accept this reality. You would do whatever it takes, even if that means going against your better judgment and acting on emotion, something you had a habit of doing. You don’t care what Mikey says nor have you ever listened when he told you not to do something. You don’t care that you’re risking your life by getting involved. You snatch the phone from your pocket before dialing a number.

“Naoto, I need your help.”

You didn’t know what to expect but it surely wasn’t almost succeeding in the take down of Bonten. Unfortunately, both you and Naoto missed a key detail to your plans which resulted in Bonten being free of the attention from the police. It didn’t help that some of the government officials involved were traitors to the force, having helped the criminal organization in secret.

Thick smoke polluted the building as a radiating heat caused you to sweat. You cough as your arm covers your mouth and nose, eyes squint as you see through the burning room. The alarms screeched as a warning to anyone near that a fire had been started. You heard the impact of whatever caused the flames, knowing a bomb had been planted somewhere inside which caused an explosion. You’re surprised that you’re still alive, along with some of the others who crawl and struggle towards the nearest exit, maneuvering through the limp bodies lying on the ground.

You search for your partner as you walk past broken furniture and office equipment, passing the body parts separated from the corpses who suffered the worst from the eruption. Unfortunately, you were hurt considering your limp, and the ringing in your ears definitely didn’t help. Your hearing has been out since you woke up. You search the police department, watching out for anyone familiar as you yell out, “Naoto!”

You continue through the damage, dodging any object that falls as you walk around the flames. An abrupt pressure on your back caused you to fall to the ground with a grunt, your hearing coming back just as you made impact with the floor. The platform of the bottom of someone’s shoe pushes you back to the ground when you try to pick yourself up.

The man behind you grabs a carton from out of his pocket, lifting the top before pulling a cigarette out. He set the box back in his suit’s jacket pocket before using a nearby flame to light it as he stretched his arm out. He brought the butt of the stick to his lips and sucked in as the remaining flame went out on the end of the cigarette. The man rubs the sweat off of his forehead using the sleeve of his suit, a strand of blonde hair swaying over his face as he drops the arm. He blew the smoke out as he gazed at your figure.

“I warned him about letting you go.” You could recognize that voice anywhere.

“Kazutora?” He takes another hit of his cigarette, holding his breath as he ashed it before blowing the smoke out of his mouth once more. A smirk grew on his face.

“You know, Y/n… I never took you for a snitch.”

“I never took you as a coward, but here we are. You kill people to feel a sense of control yet you’re always following someone else’s orders, seeking approval by anyone who’ll give it to you.” You state, irritated by the heat and the foot on your back.

The grin on his lips fell as he took another hit before leaning over and pressing the burning end of the cigarette against your neck. You gasp before releasing a shriek of pain, tears burning at the corners of your eyes. He holds it there for a moment as he stares down at you with a blank expression. He lifts himself back to a normal position once he removes the cigarette from your skin. A fresh bruise formed in the abused spot.

“Why did you guys become such fucking assholes?” You cry out.

“Come on, don’t start crying on me now Doll…” He chuckled, “…gotta save that for later when Mikey gets his hands on you.”

Before you could fight him off, his fingers squeezed firm against your pressure point. Your vision blurs before your head drops as you sink into darkness.

Your eyes flutter open as a spotlight shines on you. Attempting to lick your lips, you find yourself with a gag secured around your mouth. The red ball stretches your lips uncomfortably as they yearn to be moisturized. Your arms are cuffed above your head as your body is spread out completely nude on the bed. Your shrieks are muffled as the light dims, your knees pressed together as you attempt to cover yourself when you look down and eye the seven figures sitting out on a slightly lower platform, as if you’re on a small stage.

Marijuana and alcohol fills the air, along with the smell of tobacco as you watch the smoke fumes form above a few of the men. Your eyebrows furrow as your toes curl, embarrassment causing a warm face as you shut your eyes tightly, wishing to escape this moment as you’re sprawled out for a bunch of dangerous men. You hear footsteps in the quiet room, someone walking towards the bed.

Mikey appears in your vision as he looks down at you from the side. Your eyes water as you glare at him, disbelief from the fact that your own brother set you up like this. The boy you grew up with who inspired you to go past your own limits. The boy who wanted to make a new era for delinquents. No, you couldn’t believe this.

His fingers slowly traced over your stomach as they moved towards your chest, grazing around the outlining of your breasts. You couldn’t help the whimper of desperation spilling out through the gag, your body beginning to tremble as you realized the gravity of this vulnerable situation. You wanted this to stop. You wanted it all to stop before there’s no return.

“I left you alone…” His fingers dragged themselves across the middle of your breasts, slow and delicate with his touch. “…I warned you, Y/n.”

He slightly leans over as his hand moves to your lower stomach, rubbing the lining nearest to your pubis. Your breath hitched as you gaze at him with wide teary eyes.

“You’ve never been one to listen, have you?” The small smile that formed as he said the statement vanished as quickly as it came. Your stomach sucked in as he used his fingers to lightly glide back up to your chest before circling his hand around your neck, his index finger tapping your face twice. He leaned forward until he hovered right over your face.

“You’ll learn.” You release a shriek as your eyes shut tight, his fingers digging into the burnt skin against your neck, adding a painful pressure to the wound as the tears streamed down your face. When you open your eyes to a squint, his gaze is relaxed. His eyes made him look dead. He released you before walking to the end of the stage and turning to face the crowd, his hands behind his back.

“From now on you belong to me.” He turns his upper body to face you. “You’ll only get to eat, sleep, and breathe because of me. You will do as I say.” A taller figure began to walk on the stage, a familiar pair of purple eyes gazing down at your figure with his signature sly smile. The tall short haired man held a baton that rests on his shoulder as he stops next to the bed, closer to your lower body.

“You deemed yourself a traitor so you will be held accountable. Sister or not.”

You fidget with discomfort as you eye the weapon Ran holds with a concerned expression. He only gives you a mischievous smile in return as he drops his arm, awaiting instructions from his boss.

“If you disobey me…” His eyes switch to Ran before the taller man brings his other hand to the object, fingers adjusting as he lifts his arms. Your eyes widen once more as you hysterically pull against your restraints, legs moving as you attempt to move your body to the side to no avail.

You release a blood curdling scream as your eyes shut tight, the impact causing a loud smack to echo in the room as the end of the baton makes contact with the skin on your thigh. The pain is broad, big. So intense that your whole leg numbs out as your body attempts to protect you. Blood immediately makes its way through your skin as an ugly bruise begins formation. You sob in agony as your head falls back on the bed. You shake your head as you bite the gag.

A cold chill is brought to your body as heat overcomes you, sweat dripping down your forehead as Mikey walks closer to you, staring down at you with the same blank expression. Sanzu watches the display with gleaming eyes, a wide smile on his face as he licks his bottom lip, biting it after as he’s mesmerized by the show in front of him. It was a gorgeous sight, you sprawled out on the bed naked in front of them under Mikey’s control. Your face is so wet with tears and an expression of fear and distress. So vulnerable and fragile. Your skin breaking with ease as the blood dripping down made him want to lick it up. He couldn’t wait to get a hold of you. After all, he’s waited for so long under Mikey’s command. His failed attempt at protecting you. Someone so resilient and yet so weak.

Kazutora is leaned back in his seat with a leg crossed over, his hair pulled back in a messy ponytail as he eyes you with no emotion. He ignored the erection forming in his pants as you’re forced into submission, bound by the cuffs as your beautiful voice blesses the room with your cries. A red hue forms on his face as he watches Ran hit you again in a different spot on the same thigh. His cock twitched when he heard your loud scream, the gag doing you no justice. He crossed his arms as he shifted in his seat to a more comfortable position.

Takeomi sat with a cigarette hanging from the corner of his mouth as he glared at the scene. He never really knew you so he couldn’t care less of your position. He just finds it hilarious to watch the rest of the men simp over Mikey’s infamous cute, bratty little sister. He’s surprised you hadn’t been killed on the spot for becoming a traitor. The leeway his boss is giving you is impeccable. Otherwise you’d be torn apart limb from limb, slaughtered and violated from the inside out. Long gone. This is nothing. He’ll admit that seeing your bitchy ass getting it in is a very sweet sight to see.

Kokonoi sighed as he turned away from the scene. Having remembered you from their delinquent days made this situation all the more sickening. He still couldn’t deny the view of you laid out the way you are having an effect on the cock sitting in his pants. It was uncomfortable, especially since he deems himself as sick as someone like Sanzu or the Haitani brothers for getting turned on by this in the first place.

Kakucho’s eyes followed Ran’s fingers, swiping some of the blood off of your leg before bringing it to his lips. You lay there, sobbing as Mikey caressed both sides of your face. He knew something like this would occur as soon as he began gaining information from the dirty cops about you involving yourself. Although he felt bad for you, he knew that you had it coming. You were warned and now you must deal with the consequences. He palmed himself before squeezing slightly to ease himself as he shifts in his seat, rock hard as he chews on his lip.

“Should I hit the other thigh, boss?” Ran’s smooth voice filled the room as he gently rubbed his thumb along the untouched thigh. You shook your head as you pleaded through the ball gag. You were so focused on switching your gaze between Mikey and Ran that you completely missed the third presence making his way to the foot of the bed.

Drool accidentally fell out of your mouth as you continued to cry and beg for Mikey to let you go and to not hurt you again. It was humiliating but you were in too much pain to care. You had to get out of there. You regret not listening. You regret not leaving him alone. You just want to escape. You just want to go home and hug yourself while you cry. You wanted to see your friends again, your sister Emma. You missed Shinichiro, Baji, your grandpa, Draken, Mitsuya, and everyone else. You missed them all and you wanted a big hug from them.

You wanted to feel safe, to feel loved again. You didn’t like this cold darkness that’s dragging you to a hell you never thought you’d experience. You wish you hadn’t been so stubborn. You just missed your brother, your friends who disappeared. Thumbs drape under your eyes as the tears are wiped away only for more to stream down your cheeks. You feel the ball gag unhook around your mouth as your chapped lips connect, licking them desperately as you continue to sob and pant.

“P-please let me go! I’m sorry! I’m so sorry Mikey I-I’ll listen! I’ll leave you alone just please…!” You rambled your apologies as he continued to gaze at you with the onyx orbs that felt as though they were forcing you to drown in his own darkness. Dragging you under with him into the void everyone so desperately tries to fill or escape from.

“I-I just wanted my big brother! I-I needed you to be who you were! I was wrong…” You sob, “…so fucking wrong. You’re too far gone!” Your hands turned to fists as your breath hitched as he climbed on top of you.

“You’re right. I am no longer your Mikey.”

Your hands tremble as you watch him reach into his pants to pull out his throbbing cock.

“No… no, no, no! Y-you can’t!” You plead as you realize what’s about to happen.

The younger Haitani grabs your ankle as he picks your leg up, along with the older brother who holds up your bruised leg. Mikey adjusts himself in between your legs as he spreads his own knees against the mattress.

“M-Mikey this is so fucked up! P-please! You fucking asshole!” You could only feel rage and despair as you watched him spit in his hand and rub his cock, moisturizing it nowhere near enough for it to easily slip through you.

“Oh shit.” Sanzu breathes out in excitement as the rest of the executives mentally sit on the edge of their seats. They watched the display, some with arousal and excitement while others with slight guilt and arousal. The air was thick in the room as Rin’s grip tightened on your ankle while moving his other hand to the bottom of your foot.

“You’ll learn.” Mikey whispers near your ear before he finally pushes in slowly. Your head falls back with your mouth wide open, nails digging in your own palms as the girth stretches you painfully. Your eyebrows furrow as you clench your teeth. He released a breathy moan as his mouth hangs open, head falling to your shoulder as your pussy squeezed him tightly. You both grunt when he finally bottoms out, base and testicles pressed firmly against you as he shifts his arms under you to hold the back of your neck with both hands.

He eyed the girl with a blank expression as she stood with her hand wrapped in Grandpa Sano’s. Even at his young age he could tell that she had been through quite a lot by the look in her eyes.

“It’s okay, Y/n.” He says as he pats your eight year old head. You sat with tears streaming down your face with your arms crossed as you pouted angrily at the fact that you lost against your fight with Baji who would help you practice your skills along with Mikey.

“You’ll learn.” He said with a smile as he gazed down at you.

You gasp as you feel his thick length pulling out of you, rubbing against the lining of your walls before he bucks his hips against you with a firmer thrust causing you to grunt in pain.

“You belong to me.” The teen growled.

“Kazutora is my friend! I’m gonna visit him whether you like it or not.” You glare at your brother before stomping away from the shrine.

Truth be told he didn’t like the way you made him feel. So out of control. So out of the loop. He knows that he’s your inspiration. He loves how worthy you deem him to be. He loves that you follow him around all the time like you're his little companion. His little sister. His.

If only you knew how hard it was to allow you on your own. To allow you to make your own decisions. To have abandoned you when he knew you were still vulnerable from everything you both went through. You don’t know how hard it is being the big brother of someone who’s just so fucking stubborn. He was afraid that he would lose you in the midst of his corruption, the dark impulse taking over day by day, so he left you.

“Fuck.” He breathes out as his pace accelerates, hips pulled back before thrusting against you as his grip tightens. His cock slides in and out of your pussy as the juice slickens the erection, making it easier to access as he presses deeper and deeper. The bed rocks as the thrusts become faster and firmer, the smacking echoing throughout the room as it becomes harder to hold back your grunts and moans.

You whimpered as you felt a pressure form against the ankle held by Rin. You make eye contact with him as his lips curl into a mischievous smile. You felt goosebumps form as the butterflies in your stomach fluttered, an impending sense of doom coming over you just as Mikey’s cock aimed for your erogenous zone, pounding your g-spot once you reacted with a shriek.

Mikey walks to the car sitting outside the club he had you meet him at after your conversation was finished. Five of his executives stood outside as he turned his attention to Kakucho.

“Watch her every move.”

He had a feeling you’d try something though he didn’t expect for you to involve the cops. Especially the detective that’s always on his ass.

“You. *Thrust* Belong. *Thrust* To me.” Mikey uses a hand to squeeze your chin, forcing your eyes to meet as you pant and sob.

All of the executives watch with dazed expressions as Mikey bitched you out. Some biting their own lips while others palmed their covered erections. Mikey eyed your face as it morphed while the pit in your stomach builds, indicating the nearing of your orgasm. He used one hand to balance himself against the headboard as he grabbed the leg Ran was holding to gain better access. He thrusts against you as his cock rubbed the inner lining of your vaginal walls, slick oozing out of your hole, a mixture of his semen and your juices forming.

The pain in your leg throbs as he pushes your leg up, causing you to whimper. You tried to hold in your moans, the feeling of the head of his cock hitting your cervix was overwhelming. Instead, grunts replaced the moans with each firm thrust against your ass. The hand on your leg tightens as you watch his eyes narrow down at you with his lips apart.

“This pussy is mine. Your cum is mine. Everything about you…” a thrust with a loud smack against your ass caused a moan to slip through his throat. “…is mine.”

Your head is pressed against the mattress as you feel the pit in your stomach release, the chemical reaction causing your mouth to open as a silent scream leaves your throat, eyes rolled back as he continues to beat into your pussy.

“Ah…” Mikey breathes, “…that’s fucking right, cum on this cock.” He said before using his fingers to press onto your wound made by the baton. You scream out in agony. The chains jingle as you pull against the restraints.

“You’ll learn. You’re gonna learn to listen to me.” He breathes out before switching his eyes to Rin.

“M-Mikey pl-!” You whimper, pleading for him to stop as you’re overstimulated, though his cock keeps its pace, assaulting your pussy as it slides through harder. Blood runs down your wrists, coming from the split skin caused by your nails. You accidentally glance at Ran who stares down at you hungrily. You could see the lust in his intense gaze, causing you to turn away.

“I don’t care how close you were or even the little crush you have on her. You will ask before touching her, got it?”

“Yes, boss.” Both Kazutora and Sanzu respond with stern expressions.

“N-No! What are you…?!” A loud crack fills the air amongst the sound of the rocking bed as your eyes shut tight, a monstrous scream escaped your lips as the pressure on your ankle created a numbing yet sharp pain that swam up your leg to your knee. You shakily look down to see your limp leg in Rin’s hand, ankle bent out of place as your foot hangs there. A swelling started to form as the skin tingled. It was surely broken.

“GET OFF OF ME! GET OFF OF ME RIGHT NOW!” You’re hysterical. The pain, overstimulation, and heat. The betrayal, sickness, and depression. The sorrow, despair, and downright filthy situation. All of the eyes on you. It was all just too much.

“I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU SO FUCKING MUCH!” His forehead meets yours as his hands grab the sides of your face. His eyes shut as he thrusts hard, accelerating his speed before a breathy, drawn out moan escapes his mouth, just as Rin grabbed your other ankle.

Kazutora and Sanzu sit with discomfort as they angrily eye the Haitani brothers, realizing it should’ve been them holding your legs and punishing you. After all, they’ve known you the longest. They were closer to you. They were there for everything. Their erections become tighter as you thrash around and scream. Your rage fulfills them in an unexplainable way. They never knew why your rebellion always struck them in the heart. Who knew they’d be this stuck over their friend’s little bratty sister.

“I’m cumming.” Mikey whispers with his head against yours as he breathes out a moan. He grinds out his orgasm just as another crack fills the room, followed by an appalling scream from you. You cry as he pulls himself out of you. The swelling from both legs tingle as you lie there in terrible pain. Agony comes from your neck and both of your legs. As well as your vagina. You couldn’t believe what your own brother just did.

“I hate you.” You sob. You wanted to curl into yourself but the restraints made it impossible.

“Awe don’t cry so much, cookie.” A thumb caressed your forehead as Ran stared you down. “All ya gotta do is be good, now.”

“Or else…” Rin chuckled as he slightly dangled one of your broken ankles. You only sob in response, ignoring them as you try to refrain from making eye contact. You wanted to disappear.

Before he climbs off of you, Mikey leans over to plant a kiss on your lips. You don’t push him back nor respond to the peck. He pulls his pants up as he walks toward the other executives.

“Do what you will, just have her cleaned and brought to my room after.”

“I’ll always be the one to protect you, Y/n. You belong to me.”

You look into the eyes of your older brother, tears in your own as you hug him tight. You both sat on the ground in front of Shinichiro’s grave.

“You’ll learn.”

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beanghostprincess · 11 months ago

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Something I think about a lot is the order in which the Strawhats joined, how that affects their relationships, and how we as a fandom perceive them (this is about the Romance Dawn trio and Sanuso, by the way).

Zoro and Nami were the first two to join Luffy. The Romance Dawn trio. Luffy's first mate and Luffy's navigator. Luffy's anchor and Luffy's compass. He would not know what to do if something happened to them. And of course he loves all the Strawhats. Of course he does. But there's just something about Zoro and Nami that it's personal and intimate in a different way. It's not that they're more important to Luffy, but they're their special people. Their main two. His specialest boy and his specialest girl. Whatever. The thing is that, if we consider this inside the East Blue crew, it just makes sense that Sanuso were so close at the start.

I'm always mentioning how much I miss pre-ts Sanuso because they had more scenes together, whether I referred to background silly scenes or important, character-driven ones. But it's quite literally because they were the only two left. Let me explain:

Sanji has this thing about not wanting to take up much space. Like, his whole personality is to serve and please others, and he isn't used to taking what he wants. Usopp is an anxious mess and he thinks he doesn't deserve to be where he is because he assumes the others are stronger and better than him. They just naturally feel out of place. And they're sharing a ship and an adventure with three other people that, apart from knowing each other before meeting them, they take up so much space in the world without a care. They're shamelessly taking what they want. Slicing people in two, stealing, becoming kings. That leaves Sanji and Usopp in a place of-- Not really loneliness, that's their family now and for once they feel like they belong somewhere but, y'know, they belong without feeling like they deserve it.

I think Sanuso works so well, too, because of their numbers. Usopp was the third one to join. Sanji the fourth. Usopp joined when the Romance Dawn trio was already a thing and he actually hesitated about joining them. And Sanji then met them when they were already like, an actual crew and not just some idiots (well, they are. But y'know, at least four people is better than just two). That thing about 'three's a crowd' and all that? Well, I think there's just some sort of barrier between the Romance Dawn trio and Sanji/Usopp. Not really because, again, they have their own bonds and it works in different ways and the East Blue crew is extremely intimate but please tell me you see what I mean. The Romance Dawn trio wouldn't be a thing if I wasn't right here.

So Sanji and Usopp bond for being the third and the fourth and I think the fact that they don't feel like they belong in the place they should feel at home the most just shows that they just... Feel like they don't belong anywhere. Except when they're together. They're alone together. I think that's why they work so well.

#please tell me you get what i'm trying to say here #there's just something about them being alone together #feeling like they don't belong except when they are next to each other #not wanting to take up space in the world #black leg sanji #usopp #sanuso #romance dawn trio #east blue crew #one piece

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bookstantrash · 7 months ago

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A/N: And I am back in my "Nessian with RED (TV) fic titles" agenda. They are just so RED coded and I had been dying to write something related to this album it is one of my fav albums of TS tbf.

This one shot is more Cassian centric, and it is also a type of fanfic I had been meaning to write for the longest times. I just feel like the fandom overall forgets that Cassian has a lot of trauma and insecurities, and I wish we saw more of that.

Come morning light, you and I'll be safe and sound

Nightmares were not unusual to Cassian. He had them for as long as he could remember.

He had them when he was a mere child living on the outskirts of Windhaven, blowing on his hands to try and keep himself warm.

Had them when he was a young warrior, taking part in the Blood Rite, fighting his way to find his brothers alive.

Had them when he took part in the First War and saw deaths far more gruesome than what he had experienced at the Blood Rite.

Had them pile up after each war, each battle he took part in. Dreamt about his soldiers dying, about having to give their families the news and be met with sadness, anger and resentment. That they were gone and would never return. That while they had died he, a mere bastard born nobody, an orphan, had not.

He grew used to nightmares. Usually he would wake up with silent tears and a sense of regret and failure over his heart, spending the rest of the night awake, going over reports. Those were the good nights.

And on those rare times when his mind was particularly evil and wanted to punish him deeply, on those nights he would wake up with his heart racing, the urge to throw up taking him out of his bed to leave him retching over the toilet, the need to scream at anyone and everyone consuming him. To scream in anger and despair. Those were the bad nights, the ones who made him go to the training ring and rip the punching bags, made him stay there until the sun was rising and he would pass out with tiredness, no dreams, good or bad appearing for him.

He was so used to his nightmares that he knew what to expect, knew how to recognise when it would be a bad or good night.

And then he met Nesta and his nightmares changed.

Now he dreamt of his failures with her. Not being able to stop her from being thrown into the Cauldron, not protecting her from Hybern during the War, not helping her heal sooner after the war, letting her be kidnapped again and thrown in the Blood Rite.

Nothing could have prepared him for those nightmares, nightmares that got worse after they finally got together.

Because finally being able to be with the love of his life, his Nesta, his wife and mate… that made him incredibly afraid. Afraid that the happiness he had never felt before would be stolen from him, leaving him empty, a sad and lonely youngling in the bitter snow all over again.

The first time Cassian had a nightmare after he and Nesta had wed, he had woken up in a cold sweat, heart beating so loudly on his ears that for a second he thought he was hearing the Illyrian war drums. He had dreamt of the night she had been Made, of dragging himself over the cold floor of Hybern’s throne room, the pain of his shredded and bloody wings almost non-existent at the face of Nesta’s despair. At her screams of rage as she was dragged under the cold dark waters of the Cauldron.

He had only calmed down when he realised Nesta was safely sleeping beside him, arms around him tightening and her sleepily mumbling at him.

“Where are you going?”

Cassian had considered untangling himself from his wife’s warm embrace and going over some leftover documents, silently keeping watch over her. But one look at her sleeping face had his resolve weakening.

“Nowhere, Nes” he had settled beside her, dropping a kiss on her forehead “Go back to sleep”

Whenever Cassian had a nightmare, he would try his best to not wake up Nesta. He did not want to bother her with his worries and fears. And somehow the Mother must have taken pity on him, because he was scarcely having any bad nights since they'd gotten married. Sure, he still had nightmares, but those made him want to rip his own heart out had stopped.

He took that as a small blessing. He would take the good nights over no dreams if that meant that the unbearable nightmares would be kept at bay.

However, Nesta was not oblivious that something preyed on her husband’s mind. She had noticed how worn out he was, how when he smiled at her and said nothing was wrong his smile did not reach his eyes.

But Nesta wanted Cassian himself to tell her what was happening. Wanted him to open his heart about what was making the circles beneath his eyes darker with each passing day without her having to dig it out of him. He had told her months ago during that hike at Illyria that she could be silent and he would be waiting for her to open up when she felt comfortable, as long as she did not shut him out. Now Nesta would do the same. She would wait beside him, offering her support however she could until he was ready to talk.

“You are unusually quiet today,” Nesta noted. They were resting on the sofa in front of the fireplace — Nesta reading a book and Cassian lying down, his head on her lap — having a quiet late evening after the training session with the Valkyries in the morning.

“Missing the sound of my lovely voice, Nes? Should I read out loud a paragraph from your book?” Cassian teased, opening an eye. He had slept poorly the night before, and the quiet sound of the embers crackling on the fireplace and his mate absentmindedly running her free hand through his hair had him battling sleep.

“No,” she closed her book, “it was merely an observation.”

Cassian closed his eyes again, smiling softly.

“Are you sure? I am certain the House would love to hear all about your newest smutty book”

The faelights flicked twice, as if agreeing with him.

“Oh hush now, you can read it after I am done with it. ” Nesta said, glaring at the ceiling “I never knew a sentient being more impatient”

Cassian laughed. At first he had been surprised when Nesta talked to the House, but he had grown used to it, even talking to It on more than one occasion.

“Do you want to move to our room?” Nesta asked, gently running her hands through his hair “it is more comfortable than the couch”

Cassian merely sighed “No, I am very comfortable like this” he turned on his side, arms circling her waist and wings dropping a little on the floor “I am afraid I will keep you hostage while I nap.”

Whatever Nesta meant to say was lost when she noticed how his breath had eased, her mate having already fallen asleep. And before she could even ask, the House flicked off the faelights, drawing shut the curtains of the room they had turned into their living room.

“Thank you,” Nesta found it quite endearing how the House had grown to care about Cassian as much as It cared about her. In the beginning, It liked to play pranks on him and even sided with Nesta whenever she and Cassian had an argument — once It locked Cassian outside and only let him in when he apologised. Over time, however, they had formed a rather close friendship.

Nesta opened her book again, turning on the small faelight that Azriel had gifted her on Solstice. She had just gotten to the juicy part and she knew that little light would not wake Cassian any time soon if the way he was softly breathing was any indication of how deeply he was sleeping.

She had read half of the book when she felt an uneasy feeling through the bond. She looked down at Cassian and saw his breathing getting uneven, his arms tightening around her waist.

“Cass?” Nesta whispered softly, setting her book aside. She could feel his fear and anguish through the bond, and it pained her that she could do nothing to ease his pain.

Cassian whimpered, and although Nesta knew better than to wake up someone having a nightmare, she could not stand to see him in such pain.

“Cassian, wake up, please” she tugged on her end of the bond, her hands cupping his face. He woke up gasping, hazel eyes huge and scared.

“A bucket,” he managed to say as he scrambled up, his breathing erratic “I need—”

No sooner had the House made a bucket appear than Cassian was on his knees, emptying his stomach. Nesta kneeled beside him, holding his hair back and rubbing his back.

“It is okay, everything is fine now” she said softly.

The House made a glass of water and a towel appear, Nesta thanking It quietly. Cassian had closed his eyes, breathing as if he had just learned how to.

“Hey,” she grabbed his face “open your eyes Cass.”

His hands came up, grabbing her wrists like he was wandering at the sea and she was his lifeline.

“That is it, just look at me” she said softly yet firmly, his scared hazel eyes meeting her blue-grey ones “Breath, Cassian.”

Nesta took a deep breath, holding it in for a few seconds before letting it go slowly. Cassian copied her, and after a few minutes his breathing had become normal again, his racing heart also slowing down.

“I am sorry,” that was the first thing he said, voice hoarse “I did not want you to see me like this”

“Nonsense,” Nesta dismissed, giving him the glass of water and making him drink it “you have seen me in much worse conditions”

“Are you ready to tell me what is going on?” she asked.

Cassian nodded his head, biding his time by taking another sip of water and using the towel to clean his mouth.

“For as long as I could remember I’ve had nightmares,” he began “There are the good nightmares and bad nightmares. The good ones usually wake me and leave me with a feeling of failure.”

Nesta remembered the nights in which she would wake up to an empty bed, Cassian going over reports — she would sit on his lap and give remarks as he went over them — or just standing on their balcony. On those nights she would go over to him and bring him back to bed.

“I am cold” she would say, and he would hug her tightly and Nesta would let him think that she did not notice how he needed the hug more than she did.

She could always feel his sadness through the bond, no matter how hard he tried to close his end of that golden thread that binds them together so intrinsically.

“And the bad ones?” Nesta quietly asked.

“The bad ones leave me like this,” he said with a self deprecating laugh “A complete and utter mess, barely functioning.”

“You have been sleeping poorly for a while now. Why didn’t you talk to me?” Cassian must have seen the hurt on her eyes, felt it through the bond, because he grabbed her hands, squeezing them.

“I am not good with words, I am sure you have noticed that,” he smiled weakly “I wish I was half as eloquent as you are.”

“You managed just fine in our wedding” she said with an arched eyebrow, and that got a real laugh out of him.

“I was inspired that day, I will admit.” he got serious again “But I think that maybe spending a lot of time being alone and angry did not help with my inability to find the right words to express what I am feeling. And to share my problems with others.”

Nesta had noticed this particular trait of Cassian, especially after she had stopped keeping him at arms lengths and had finally allowed herself to admit what she felt for him. He loved his family deeply, would put himself at risk for others in a heartbeat, would always have a happy face and joke to lighten the mood.

He cared for and about everyone, but what about him? Who did the same to him?

Nesta wanted to be the one with whom he could discard his happy mask and show a range of emotions.

“You can always talk to me Cassian,” she said “Anytime, no matter what.”

“I don't want to burden you. You already went through so much that to further worry you with something as silly as a nightmare—”

“I cannot believe you are saying this,” Nesta said, and Cassian could feel her anger and disappointment through the bond “You could never burden me and for you to even suggest otherwise—”

“I am your wife, Cassian. Your mate. If I don’t care and worry about you, who will?” she continued after taking a deep breath to calm herself “Besides, it is not a silly nightmare if it affected you this way”

Cassian stayed a few minutes quiet, mindlessly playing with her wedding band, brows furrowed in concentration.

“Another reason I was hesitant to talk to you about the nightmares is because— because now I have nightmares about you, Nes” he avoided her eyes while he talked, still focused on her hands “The good nightmares are the ones about my failures with you. Not stopping Hybern, not helping you sooner…”

Nesta’s heart almost broke when he said that. How could he think that about himself when he had been the one to tell her months ago when they visited the old shabby cottage she had lived with her family in poverty that there was nothing she could have done to stop Hybern and save her father?

“And the bad?” she asked, wishing he would look at her.

“The bad ones are about you dying in my arms. About you realising I am nothing more than a bastard born nobody, who is not deserving of even the air you breathe and then leaving to go travel the world, to marry a king from the continent or from other fae lands.” his voice got quieter, almost a whisper, as if he was afraid of telling her what he saw on those nights “Of you simply leaving me and never looking back.”

“Tonight— tonight was a bad one,” he finally looked at her and his face was so utterly wrecked with pain and desperation that Nesta wanted to tell him that she would stop his nightmares, that she would bargain with the Mother and even that blasted Cauldron to leave him alone.

“I dreamt that when Briallyn ordered me to kill I could not turn the knife on myself. So I killed you. And she got the Mask and kept reviving you so I had to kill you over and over and over again” silent tears started running down his face and her heart truly shattered.

She hugged him tight, Cassian burying his head on her shoulder.

“Shh xe nhia, I am here,” Nesta knew a few words in Illyrian, and she hoped that the use of them, the familiarity that they brought, would help Cassian ��I am not leaving you. Not now and not ever”

“However, if you keep trying to spoil my books I might become Ems’ newest house mate” she joked, making Cassian laugh.

“I would be completely lost without you Nes,” he said with a weak smile.

“I know,” she tenderly brushed his cheeks, drying his tears “Promise me something?”

“Anything you desire”

“Promise me you will wake me up when you have another nightmare, be it ‘good’ or ‘bad’. Promise me you will talk to me and let me be beside you when you are in need.” she pleaded.

“I promise” Cassian kissed her cheek, gathering her in his arms and walking towards their bedroom. Reluctantly setting her down, he went to their bathroom to freshen up while Nesta changed out of her dress.

Cassian walked back in to find her wearing one his favourite sweaters.

“I had been looking for that sweater”

“You were? Funny how it ended up in my drawer. Maybe the House put it there by mistake” Nesta shrugged, knowing very well that she had been the one to steal it. She was constantly stealing Cassian’s clothes.

“You do look better on it than me, so I think I can forgive that small mishap” he said, getting under the covers and hugging Nesta close.

“I love you, Nes” he whispered in her ear “And thank you”

“I love you too, Cass,” she replied, snuggling closer to him.

And that night, for the first time in a long while, Cassian had no nightmares.

•

tag list: @sayosdreams @perseusannabeth @arinbelle @letstakethedawn @katekatpattywack @nestaarcheron @imagine-me @sv0430 @starryblueskies7 @live-the-fangirl-life @valkyriewarriors @readskk @wannawriteyouabook @imwritingthesewords @rainbowcheetah512 @moodymelanist @castielspelvis

[Reblogs/likes/comments are always welcomed!!]

#nessian #nesta x cassian #nesta archeron #cassian #acosf #a court of silver flames #post acosf #post a court of silver flames #sarah j maas #sjmaas #acotar

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my-castles-crumbling · 5 months ago

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oh my GOD the weirdest thing just happened to me and I NEED ur advice.

So basically, I have this friendship group of like eleven annoying idiots (love ‘em all), and me.

Two of them and me r in the marauders fandom. We’re all 16 btw, just finished GCSEs!!!!!!!!! This is THE summer!!!!!

Anyways, we have ONE couple in our friendship group (that gives rosekiller vibes ngl) and a few others are dating people but not from inside the group (not much group-cest).

So like yesterday, we were all hanging out at one of our houses and I turn to my best mate in the group (who’s also a marauder girlie) and say “isn’t it so weird that our friendship group doesn’t have a wolfstar ship.” cause like ngl, we do give marauder era friendship vibes.

AND EVERYONES GOES SILENT???????? Like people were halfway thru words and they SHUT up. They always ignore us when we talk abt the marauders.

So I turn to everyone and go “what’s with the silence, half of u don’t even know what wolfstar is.”

And one of them goes “we might not know shit about harry potter but someone’s definitely mentioned wolfstar a few times”.

AND SHE LOOKS AT ONE OF OUR FRIENDS.

I assume I shouldn’t use her real name her so imma just call her Clara (she loves TS Clara Bow song so-).

Clara blushes REAL red and looks down and whispers for the person who said that to shut up.

So I say “Hang on, I thought we weren’t allowed to blab abt the marauders after *my best mate* and *another person in the group* argued over who hated JKR the most? For three hours.”

And the girl from before who apparently knows what wolfstar is says “Yeah- except when we’re watching wolfstar happen, of course we have to know what it is.”

HUH,

So I furrow my eyes brows at her and she goes “you know” which I DONT.

And then my best mate rolls her eyes and says “we do have a wolfstar in this friendship group dumbass.”

LIKE WHO OKAY?

Anyway, we sorta moved on. And when I tried to hound my best mate later that night she wouldn’t tell me shit. She just kept saying “no. you know all the ships in our friendship group. we aren’t keeping the wolfstar one from you.”

ANYWAY I went home and THEN it occurred to me that… ME. I could be in the wolfstar ship our friends were talking abt. Otherwise I would KNOW, since I always know.

And there’s only one person they all ship me with in our group, Clara.

SO I TEXT MY BEST MATE LIKE, WAHT RHE FUCK GIRL YOUVE BEEN SHIPING ME WITH SOMEONE SECRETLY

and she says, she hasn’t been shipping us secretly she’s been shipping us to my face

and so I say, that it wasn’t serious until she compared me to my FAV marauders couple

and so she says, WELL IM GLAD U NOW FEEL ITS SERIOUS

and so I say, how dare u compare me to remus, I love him but he’s def not me.

and she says, IM NOT BITCH YOURE SIRIUS

so I say, SIRIUS?

and she says, SIRIUS!

And I say, girl how?

And she says, how about the fact that ur family are psychos and u really need to move out. How abt because ur an idiot who can’t see what’s right in front of her? How about your a demi bi queer chaotic mess who can’t recognise what could be the love of your life if she literally kissed you on the cheek which she FUCKING DID

so I say, … that was platonic?

And she says, I hate you (jk I love u) but no rlly I hate u so much. WHAT RHE FUCK DUDE.

So I say, wait, u don’t think she has a crush on me do u?

and she says, I FUCKING HATE U HOW R U THIS DUMB.

(this is all taking place over text in case I hadn’t made that clear).

So i say, JUST CAUSE SHES GAY DOESNT MEAN SHE FANCIES ME.

And she says, NO BUT KISSING UR CHEEK AND ASKING U OUT ON SINGLE DATES AND BEINF SAD WHEN U GET A BF AND SPENDING ALL HER TIME WITH TOU DOES MEAN SHE FANCIES U DUMBASS.

So I say, has she told you?

And she says, u know I can’t say either way.

So I say, so no. She doesn’t.

AND RHEN I STOP REPLYING.

But now I think she might.

Which is awkward. Look i’m not like- straight or anything, but I never get crushes, who has the time to care honestly.

And I don’t wanna be like, oh my friend who’s a lesbian ObViOuSlY has a crush on ME. I’m not like, Erin in Derry Girls. UGH.

But in hindsight, she HAS seemed bothered whenever I talk about boyfriends (which isn’t that often cause again, who has the fucking time).

And she did NOT like my ex. Which was only sort of fair personality wise.

And like yes, technically, we have hung out solo and then she kissed my cheek. But like, we’re just really good friends.

ALSO how dare my best mate compare me to Sirius. Sure my parents are evil but they’re NOT RICH. I mean if you’re gonna be horrific at least be rich right?

And here’s the thing, if I bring it up and Clara does like me- WHAT DO I SAY

and if I bring it up and she doesn’t, i’m that bitch who assumes she does cause she’s gay.

AND if I don’t and she does like me, am I just being ignorant so it’s easier for me.

Or if i don’t and she doesn’t like me, will I think there’s some weird air here and she won’t even know what’s going on.

I HATE being in the unknown.

And like I had known our friends shipped us but they’ve done it for like… three years maybe? Not religiously but as a jk.

So by this point it’s just background noise. but now they’ve compared us to WOLFSTAR (and know what wolfstar is it seems) now I’m like thinking about this.

MAYBE THATS THEIR PLAN. Maybe it’s just a trick to mess with us more.

But now I can’t help worrying that when we hang out it’s supposed to be a date. Or that time she kissed me was supposed to be a date and I DIDNT REALISE and just rudely ignored her.

WHAT IF IVE BEEN A BITCH THIS WHOLE TIME?

Also like yes, she was there for the wolfstar comparison, but idk if SHE knows it was US being compared to them.

Clara doesn’t LOVE the marauders fandom, but she’s lovely and always lets me ramble about it (like I let her ramble abt her books). And so she knows a lot of lore, specifically about Wolfstar.

So idk if she knew it was abt us, or if she’s just like realising now.

Also, and here’s the weird part, I care.

I never give a shit usually, about whoever has a crush on me or whatever. I just do what I want and deal with other people later. But now it’s my friend, my really lovely and funny and sweet and beautiful and kind friend and I don’t want to hurt her.

BUT MAYBE I WONT. Cause maybe she doesn’t even like me so it’s nothing to worry abt.

WHO KNOWS ANYMORE.

Anyway, that’s the story. Got any advice for me Cas? ALSO congrats on your new school!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Oh boy.

First of all- babe, it sounds like you're the last to know about all this. But I'm glad you're aware now. Welcome to the party!

Also- "my really lovely and funny and sweet and beautiful and kind friend" uhm. do you wanna say that again? And tell me there's no feelings there?

I mean, I'm not gonna tell you how you feel but it sounds like you need to stop overthinking and just spend some time with Clara. Because it could be that you're overlooking something great, here. Stop getting in your head and just feel for a bit. Wolfstar is a superior ship for a reason :D

Naming you wolfstar anon

#ask #asks #ask cas #wolfstar anon

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elluia · 10 months ago

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Choose Your Legends 8 ended with lots of surprises, and it's time to celebrate!

I've seen concerning amounts of salt and bashing on the games involved or not, so this will be a positive post! I'm tired of the fandom's dumb takes and toxicity so let's praise everyone for the amazing scores and stories that unfolded during this vote!

First let's start with the link to all the official CYL art since Year 1 of FEH, enjoy the trip down memory lane!

https://fire-emblem-heroes.com/fr/sp/illustrations/

(I nabbed that chibi Soren right away, bless Kita Senri)

CYL 8 Male winners:

🥇1: Alfonse | A beautifully deserved win for our well-written OC lord who keeps the story of Heroes entertaining with his crazy one-liners and unhinged plans, with more tender moments with his family and friends to soften him. I hope we get to see him grown-up like Legendary Veronica.

🥈2: Felix | I love seeing non-lord characters emerge from the voting. His voters have shown their supports 4 years in a row and it paid off! Especially nice win because Felix has been shafted by IS with a silly seasonal and an ok god-sword pre-TS unit.

CYL 8 Female winners:

🥇1: Bernadetta | Just like Felix, her voters lost to circumstances (aka the surprise Gullveig sweep), so I'm glad for them! Plus her post-TS personality should force the writers to tone down the moe nervous trait that flanderizes her character.

🥈2: Female Robin | She's finally free to be in the common summoning pool as herself, not Grima! She has too few alts to her name, and she marks the first time both genders of an avatar have won CYL, so good job!

About the Engage non-sweep, don't get disheartened! The votes for Engage were equal to Three Houses, but they were split between A LOT of fan favourites for both genders, while the FE3H fans rallied one last time for 1 male and 1 female representation, without competition from their lords. It's a respectable result, and the bashing on Engage is disingenuous and undeserved.

I've seen the top 5 from each game and I'm happy to see Finn up there for Thracia and Mae for Echoes. I hope to see Linoan soon, and other alts for Berkut and Rinea. People rallied for Athos to get in the game already, for Lloyd to have new art, for Seth and Titania to get the stats they deserve...

Fan favourites like Lyon or the Black Knight still score high. Azura received love. Even Elincia who's already been very lucky in 2023 got in the top for PoR and RD! I love to see people rally for a Sentinel Nephenee too.

We continue to see Leo and Takumi side by side, chilling in the male top 20 like BFFs. It's adorable.

This CYL8 follows in the steps of CYL7 with no main lords, only favourites and avatars.

Next year I hope to see Jugdral and Elyos win, but for now I'm happy with the 4 we have 🥰

#feh #fe heroes #cyl8 #positivity #fire emblem #The salt I see for top 20 characters is pathetic #It's fine if Engage doesn't win year 1 guys...#But the Engage/Three Houses bashing needs to stop #Be happy for the Felix and Bernie fans who are finally free #Fucking be nice to each other we're all nerds here

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bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky · 7 months ago

Text

Please, I’ve been on my knees

Change the prophecy

Don’t want money

Just someone who wants my company

Let it once be me

Who do I have to speak to

About it they can redo

The prophecy

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joesalw · 11 months ago

Note

All of Taylor's albums were tailored to the most popular aesthetic at the time. She didn't make shit popular, she just adapted. Especially when she made the transition into pop music.

True. She's currently jumping fences with rep as well. Making it out to be a goth punk moment and using trendy words like 'female rage'. The album has the most romantic songs she's ever written. C'mon now. The whole record is electropop with some R&B elements thrown into the mix.

She portrays 'Lover' as her social justice warrior era. 'If I was a man, then I'd be the man'. Yeah, we've seen it Taylor. Miss 'me becoming a billionaire is good for the world because I'm a woman'. She makes herself out to be this 'feminist girl's girl' when in reality it couldn't be further from the truth. She's not a feminist and she doesn't want to be the woman that's advocating for women's rights and leads the path for the future generation of women. She wants to be the man at the top. Her motto is literally 'gaslight, gatekeep, girlboss, greenhouse gases'.

Another thing is her queer allyship. She's mentioned it when and only when it was profitable to her. During her tour she hadn't said a thing when the number of states signed anti-trans bills and the state of Tennessee where she says she lives *according to her own documentary* banned drag. I don't think she said anything about the anti-abortion legislation either. Her activist era started and ended in 2019.

Don't get me started on her position regarding the BLM movement. She only posted something because her own fans started calling her out and then declared that she's 'ferociously anti-racist'. She positioned herself as an advocate *by herself* and then immediately dipped when it stopped being as profitable. If you don't want to be dragged for your silence about social and political crises, don't proclaim yourself as an activist. Simple as that.

I've also seen the video on Youtube about TS being a narcissist (someone posted it on your blog earlier I think). And the guy in the video brought up her guitar teacher. So I looked him up and found an article where he talks about his experience with the Swifts which he got sued for later. According to the man, Taylor's mother was interested in him teaching her daughter how to play country music and was just a stage mom in general. And TS says that she'd been begging her parents to allow her learn how to play guitar and that she's self-taught. She wants her success story to be a rags to riches so bad I can't even.

She's a woman with an extremely fragile ego where millions of people could be praising her and a single negative comment would set her off. She can't handle any form of criticism, break ups or inconveniences like a grown woman simply because she doesn't have enough emotional intelligence to do so. Her being surrounded by yes men also doesn't help the situation. If i were her, I'd rather invest in a good therapist rather than 2 PJs. She drowns herself in work and relationships so she doesn't have time to go inwards and sit with her thoughts.

I kinda feel bad for her, honestly. She's been in the industry since she was 15 and her success was almost immediate. She doesn't know what the world's like because she's been sheltered her whole life and then had other people do things for her. I don't think she has many real friends as well. By real I mean people who aren't afraid to tell you the truth and are able to call you out in your face. Instead she has a bunch of people who appease her afraid of pissing her off and ending up on her bad side and as a result her vanity grows and she completely loses any sort of perspective whether in her friendships, romantic relationships or maybe even her own family.

I also wonder what she thinks about her fandom pirating her concert film instead of paying to rent it. I sort of hope that her fans are starting to wake up to her conning schemes. I mean, you've already made a shit ton of money from the theatre release, why charging 20$ more to RENT IT?Not even buy it. Or is it another narrative about how 'no one can own my work but me'?

This woman sells well but her cultural impact is almost nonexistent. She hadn't done any good for the world causes or inspired several generations of performers like Michael Jackson has with his philanthropic endeavors and incredible performing skills. The artists like Beyoncé, Lady Gaga, Bruno Mars, Justin Timberlake (bleh) and The Weeknd were hugely influenced by MJ. These artist create their own unique legacy and impact on their communities. Especially the ladies. Gaga's been an avid LGBT+ advocate since the beginning of her career and created a foundation that focuses on issues like self-confidence, well-being, anti-bullying, mentoring and career development. She also participated in anti HIV and AIDS campaigns, spoke against immigration laws in the US, contributed to 2011's earthquake and tsunami relief campaign in Japan. Beyoncé's a huge advocate for the black community and black women especially which always finds its way in her work and visual art in particular. She's been platforming black culture and history for her whole career (2016 Superbowl and Coachella performance are the brightest examples of black american culture and releasing her Lion King album to showcase African artists' excellence). She also has a foundation where she provides black youth scholarships, clean water for communities abroad and housing to families in need in her home state.

What exactly makes Taylor Swift's cultural impact? Thousands of tons CO2 emissions? Music labels putting a clause in the contract so the artists can't re-record their material for 10 years now instead of 5? Making several versions of the same CD or vinyl so the sales are bigger? Mind you, that's all excessive plastic and paper. Some countries and US states are banning gas stoves. Her position regarding artists being paid during the early days of streaming (when the platforms were launching with a free period tial) was right but no one really benefited from it but her. She was shitting on Apple Music, then they offered her money, filmed an ad and released her 1989 Tour DVD exclusively on their platform. She shat on Spotify, then when LWYMMD came out, she was all over their biggest playlists all of a sudden and recorded Spotify Singles later on. Spotify's always promoted her every release like a motherfucker shoving her in every corner of the platform. Especially for the past 3 years. She doesn't have any memorable outfits or unique style to be called a fashion icon either. She's not a trailblazer she thinks she is. She is only popular because a lot of people *mostly ww* who peaked in high school see themselves in her. She's average in everything she does, her writing topes are also the same (only now she started using compound or uncommonly used words to mask it) but she's extremely commercially successful so that those people can see themselves in her. She doesn't have unique music style or chameleon-like discography like Gaga, Bey, MJ, Madonna, Shakira, Kelly Clarkson, Miley Cyrus or Nelly Furtado. She doesn't have a unique singing voice like Bjork, David Bowie, Freddie Mercury, Janis Joplin, MJ or Bob Dylan. She's no instrument prodigy either. And swifties say that 'Michael couldn't play any instruments'. Well, he was an exceptional beatboxer. She can strum 4 guitar chords and play basic piano, that's it. She doesn't have an outstanding dancing and/or vocal skill.

What is she gonna be remembered for? Her numerous relationships with famous men? While that might be misogynistic or sexist to some degree, she's the one who makes her relationships the centre of her music and public persona and brings them up even 10 years after they ended. Her public feuds with men and women that she can't get over years after? This woman is certainly can hold a grudge and is extremely vindictive. The leader of a parasocial cult that blindly defends her bigotry? I believe so. I don't think I've ever seen a fandom as toxic and as hive-minded as swifties. And again, it's Taylor's own creation. She's the one that constantly says 'look closely for the easter eggs' in her content making her fans theorize on every aspect of her life, or 'if you're very loyal I might invite you to MY HOUSE and you can listen to the new album early, we'll take pics and I'll bake you some cookies'. Of course they'll follow your any order. I'm glad I escaped.

Oof, I'll stop here. That's a very long one already

sorry hehe

#anti taylor swift #anti swifties #swifties dni

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