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yazzwrites6962 · 3 months ago

Note

hi! I really loved your niragi and chishiya works! I can't wait to see more of redemption! I really enjoy seeing how people write characters like these two and how they interpret them, and so far, I've enjoyed how you wrote them!

Redemption ♡ Suguru Niragi ♡ Part Two

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Suguru Niragi x Fem!Reader ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Part One: Here

Part Three: Here

Author's Note: UNEDITED! Shoutout to those who asked for another part. I love you guyssss. Also, Y/N's profession/life before the Borderlands is mentioned. Feel free to change it! Sorry for the super long chapter. I know it's pretty messy. I'll work on editing and cleaning up soon. I had four midterms this week, because my professors hate me. Again, I don't own any characters/images!

Genre: Angst

Summary: As it becomes obvious that Niragi has a soft spot for Y/N, he is forced to prove where his loyalties lie.

Word Count: 5397

Warnings: Sexual themes, language, OOC Niragi, derogatory language referencing the reader, mentions of substance use, fear, blood, injury, death, cliffhanger

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

"You seem different." A gruff voice teased, nudging Niragi's arm. "You're all smitten over that one girl, aren't you? Is the pussy that good? Maybe I'll have to try her out myself." Niragi flinched, growling at the fellow militant. The room filled with laughter. "She's got a pretty pair of eyes I'd love to see rolling back."

"I'm not different," He huffed, loading his gun. "and I'm not smitten. Get outta here with that lovey dovey bullshit." It had been four days since your last game with Niragi, and the members of the Beach would have to be blind not to have noticed the change in his demeanor.

Every day since that game, Niragi would wake up bright and early to have a silent breakfast with you. You didn't speak much, as you were usually very groggy in the morning. Instead, he would enjoy your sleepy presence. He had grown fond of your messy hair and the way you covered your face when you yawned. He enjoyed seeing the way your eyes drooped even while you shoveled food into your mouth. He loved to look at you; The raw you.

"Nahhh man. You've obviously got a soft spot for the chick." Chimed another militant. "You used to go 'round killing people and shit. Yelling and fucking bitches, getting high all the time. You were fun. Now you're having breakfast with the boring one."

Why were you referred to the boring one? That's difficult to say. Maybe because you spent so much time with Kuina and Chishiya, who mostly seemed to be on the sidelines at parties. Maybe because of your calm nature. Maybe because you were a decent diamonds player. Either way, nobody had envisioned Niragi falling for a 'boring' girl. He was always spotted dragging rowdy women back to his room, notorious for his partner of the night being loud enough to shake the entire floor.

"I do not have a soft spot." Niragi seethed, slamming his gun against the wall and making a loud bang. Everyone jumped, but then continued to laugh at Niragi's frustration. He didn't know why it irritated him so much to be accused of having a soft spot for you. Normally, he couldn't care less about what others thought.

"Then prove it." Chuckled one of the guys. "Your visa is about to expire, ain't it? Hers too, right? Why don't you kill her?" In the normal world, death would be extreme. The mere suggestion of killing another person would send the room into a silent shock. However, in the Borderlands, killing people meant nothing. The militants, especially Niragi, would kill people all the time.

Death to traitors, death to enemies in games, death to anyone who got in the way. It's safe to say that Niragi was probably the most trigger happy of the whole group. Then why? Why did the idea make him feel so nauseous? Even in the last game, you'd injured your led. Watching the blood run down your body as you limped through the game felt like torture to him.

"I'm not gonna kill a the girl just because you tell me to, asshat." Niragi replies, trying to summon up everything he has in order to seem calm. Really, he's panicked inside. He may not be religious, but he prays to any deity that will listen; He prays that the other militants will drop the subject.

"No, think about it." The guy shining his gun in the corner inserts himself into the conversation. "We are the power; We are the order here at the Beach. Right? We gotta stick together. We can't have you getting distracted over a pretty bitch."

"Man, maybe that's a little extreme. She seems like a fine girl, so why not let the man have his fun with her?" Relief washes over Niragi as someone advocates for him. For you. You deserve an advocate in your defense. Why was he so hesitant to be that?

"If the people of the Beach see Niragi going all soft, they're gonna think the rest of us are soft too. This place runs on fear and respect. If people don't fear us anymore, it creates chaos. Do you want chaos? Huh?" The man shining his gun continues to explain, slowly winning over the agreement of the others.

"Bro you must be drunk or something." The advocate rolls his eyes, standing up to leave the room. Before he can get to the door, a loud shot fires and echoes through the little room. There is no more laughter, only absolute silence. The advocate, your advocate, was dead. Shot, clean through the back of the head.

"Dude what the fuck-" Someone pipes up, but the man who shot him only rolls his eyes, unphased by the death. Maybe nobody in the room is very phased by death itself, only at the man's extreme reaction to someone's disagreement.

"This is what we're about guys. C'mon. Fuck! We're the militants. Even saying our names brings fear into people here. Lives are meaningless in this place. His life meant nothing to anyone. Can a single person in here tell me his name?" Crickets. Silence. Niragi debates shooting this lunatic, but every pair of eyes in the room suddenly land on him. "So, Niragi, is it gonna be us or your bitch of the week?"

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

"What were you, before you came here?" You ask, suddenly breaking the silence in your morning ritual. You were more alert today, knowing that at the end of the night, you could be dead. Your visa expires today. "Were you in the military?"

"No." Niragi replies coldly, poking at an egg on his plate. You continue to watch him as he toys with his food, still waiting for a longer answer. His eyes meet yours before he groans and sits back in his chair. "Game engineer. Why in the world would you think I was in the military?"

"Oh, it's just the way you swing that gun around. You always seem so confident." You giggle and flash him a smile. "Who would've thought there a brain somewhere in that hard head of yours?" His eyes flash with irritation for a moment at your joke.

"Watch yourself. I could still shoot you." He grumbles. You know he's joking. You are truly convinced that behind that hard exterior, Niragi is a sweetheart. You could see it in the little things he did. In the way he would look for you to waddle down the stairs every morning, in the way he glanced at you while you were with Kuina, in the way he always happened to be around your hallway at the end of the night to make sure you got back safe. His excuse was that he just seems to be patrolling the area around that time. "What did you do?"

"I was studying pediatrics." You take a sip of your drink, remembering your life before the Borderlands. You were always the perfect student. You were praised for your talents and intelligence, following the expectations that were always weighing in your life. You enjoyed your field, of course. You wanted to help children and make the word a safer place. However, the academic burnout had been really catching up to you. In a way, you were grateful to be taken to the Borderlands when you were. As horrific as all the death was, at least you had some peace during the visa days.

"That girl will be a doctor, or a lawyer someday. Maybe even an engineer." You recall the endless praise you received from teachers and loved ones. It was always the expectation that everything came naturally to you. "I'll be sure to push her in the right direction. She has too much potential to let it all go to waste."

"Cute." Niragi comments, taking a sip of his coffee. "Suits you." Your cheeks flush at the compliment, and you can't help but let a filly grin grow on your face. Niragi rolls his eyes, smirking and shaking his head. "Don't get used to it. You're still a dork."

"Y/N!" You hear your name being hollered, and quickly turn your head to see who it was, despite already recognizing the voice. It's so early, the sun has barely risen. Most people aren't up at such a time, leaving a sweet privacy between you and Niragi. However, this was interrupted by a very concerned looking Kuina. She had never seen you and Niragi actually talking before.

"Kuina! You're up unusually early. What's up?" You say joyfully, as if you weren't caught having a meal with the one person Kuina had been warning you about since you first arrived at the Beach. She eyes Niragi skeptically before he got the message, throwing his hands up and scoffing as he pushed his chair back and left the table. "Hey, why'd you give him such a dirty look?"

"What are you thinking?!" She whisper-yells, as a certain pierced male is still in earshot. "What are you doing down here with Niragi? You know nobody else is down here, right? He could do something to you!" You chuckle, thinking the idea absurd that Niragi would every do anything to hurt you.

"He's not really as bad as everyone says he is. We were just having breakfast. We do every morning." You explain, continuing to ramble on about your pleasant breakfasts. Kuina bites her lip. Of course, she cares about you and your wellbeing, but she also worries about what she will tell Chishiya.

Chishiya had a plan to steal the cards and use you as a decoy. Although Kuina wasn't entirely comfortable with this, she didn't have much of a choice. Now seeing how close with Niragi you were becoming; She debated if it would be much of a good idea to recruit you for the plan at all. Maybe, it would make you even better for the plan. Maybe upon being caught, Niragi would take it easier on you.

"Kuina? Are you okay?" You stand, taking her hands in yours, rubbing your thumbs over them gently. She blinks a few times, returning to the present moment before nodding. "I'm sorry I've worried you. I know you had concerns about him, but I'm a grown woman. I think I can judge him for myself, and I am super sure he would never do anything to me."

"How sure can you really be about anyone in a place like this?" Kuina sighs at your unrelenting trust in the good of humanity. If there was any good in this place, it's you. "Just be careful, okay? How sure is your super sure?"

"I am one-billion percent sure. I trust him." You nod, hugging her. You've been so grateful for what life in the Borderlands has brough you: A break from the pressure of your old life, Kuina, Chishiya, and Niragi. You trusted these people, your friends, with all your sweet, naive heart.

Little did you know, every single one of them had already been plotting against you.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

"Wow! Two games in a row we get paired together! How lucky is that?" You exclaim, holding up your little piece of paper right beside Niragi's. It wasn't luck. It was rigged to be that way. You were meant to die in a game tonight.

"Uh huh. Luck." Niragi grimaces. You're terrified of what may come, but being in the same game as Niragi brings you a little comfort. After he had so nobly helped you in the last game, you had every bit of confidence that this one would be no different. "Just don't be a nuisance."

"Hey! I never am." You whine, making your way towards the car you're meant to take. Niragi watches you walk, the way your arms sway beside you. No matter what it is you're doing, he finds it alluring, and he begins to hate it.

He had come to the revelation that his fellow militants were right. There was just something about you that made him feel weak. It brought him back to the days when he was ruthlessly bullied and tormented, doing nothing to stop it. Would you be his downfall, and is he doing nothing to stop it? He growls, shaking the thoughts from his mind and following you to the car.

As usual, it was you in the back with two other people. Except this time, they were not lip locked lovers. They were strangers, sitting on either side with you in the middle. The young man beside you couldn't have been any older than fifteen, twiddling his thumbs nervously and staring out the window. You remember how afraid you were during your first game and wondered if this was his first game too.

Finally, after a drive that felt like hours, you arrive at a large building. It's not a tower, like your last game was. It's a gym with two floors, filled with various types of exercise equipment. Some rooms have ropes and rock walls, there's a pool, and the technology in the gym was generally very impressive.

"Must've cost a fortune to get a membership into this place." Someone comments. You make your way to the table with several phones on the table. It looks like one has already been taken, but you don't see anyone else in the room other than the people you made the journey with.

You take your device, holding steady as it scans your face. Two minutes and one second until registration closes. You look around the room, searching for Niragi. He's already eyeing you, but this time he doesn't look away when you spot him as he usually does. He gives you a look of pity, something you'd never seen from him before.

"Are you scared?" You ask, approaching him and hugging yourself. "No matter what the game is, we can get through it. I trust you, and you can trust me." You were terrified of the idea that there could possibly only be one survivor in this game. If it came down to it, the only chance you had in beating Niragi was in a diamonds game.

You stop your train of thought. Why were you already thinking about how you could beat Niragi? The game hadn't even started, and you were already brainstorming how to betray him if you truly had to. You shove those thoughts out of your mind determined to stay loyal to your friend.

"Scared?" He raises an eyebrow, scoffing. He was scared shitless. Not because of the game, but because of what may happen to you. On the one hand, he hoped you would die in this game. You were proving to cause more internal turmoil than you were worth. The other part hoped you would make it out alive, so you could eat breakfast together tomorrow. "If there's anything to be scared of here, it's me."

You giggle, finding his confidence adorable. If this game ended up being a gym related physical challenge, you had no doubt that he would make it out. You were not so confident. You weren't weak by any means, but you definitely weren't the strongest. You recall how badly you wanted to start regularly going to the gym, but you were always so engrossed in your studies.

A chime echoes through the room as the game instructions begin to recite over the speakers. The missing phone and its owner poke out of a shadowy hallway. It's a woman about your age with beautiful long brown hair.

Game: Workout - Seven of Spades

Rules: There will be three stages in this game, testing endurance, balance, and strength. Once a stage is completed, you may not return to that room. In your final challenge, there will be a key waiting for you. Retrieve your key and use it to unlock your door out of the building. Should you attempt to take another player's key or exit through a door which is not yours, you will be eliminated.

Clear Condition: Retrieve the key in the final challenge and unlock your door.

"Players, please make your way to the first room." The voice over the speakers says before going silent once again. A big arrow sign lights up, pointing to a room near the back of the gym. Everyone hesitantly follows the instructions.

The young man you sat near in the car opens the door first. Inside, there are several large balance beams and signs with each person's face, indicating which one each player should go to. You find your face, noticing the weights laid neatly at your feet.

Below the balance beams, which are hoisted nearly six feet in the air, the floor is littered with broken shards of glass. You shiver, dreading what would happen if you were to fall off your beam. There are instructions near each beam, clarifying that each player must make their way across the room on their beams with their weights, which are assigned based on body mass.

Your clock is ticking, and you'd rather not waste time. While some are arguing about trading weights, you pick yours up. They're decently heavy, you won't lie. You feel the tug in your shoulders. With your weights in hand, you begin to make your way across the balance beam. The height is terrifying, and you make mental note to breathe in and out at a healthy pace.

"Look! She's already going!" Someone says, but you don't dare look back. The beam stretched several meters, but you simply try to take it one foot in front of the other. Somehow, you make it to the other side quickly, dropping the weights onto the ground once you reach your destination.

"It's really easy, guys! Just don't panic. We'll finish this game in no time!" You shout back to the other side of the room. "How is this a seven of spades? That was... simple." You say to yourself as you watch the woman with long brown hair step onto her beam.

She had taken her shoes and sweatshirt off in an attempt to make this easier on herself. You could see the panic on her face as she turned back to look at the rest of the group.

"I- I can't! I'm scared of heights!" She squeals. Though you had never met this woman before, you sympathized with her terror, and you called for her to not look back. She took a step forward on the beam, trembling.

You continued to try and reassure the brown-haired woman while others began to cross their beams too. You advised her to watch her breathing and not focus on looking down, but on what was ahead. She had actually managed to make it halfway across the beam, and pride filled your heart.

Unfortunately, good things never last in the Borderlands. The woman looks down, her knees wobbling as she grows panicked once again. She looks back, realizing she is too far on the beam to turn around. You try to console her, but she is too terrified. Her legs buckle underneath her, and she slips off her beam, the weights falling out of her hands as she crashed six feet down into the ground.

The crunch of glass fills the room and the woman begins screaming, blood pouring out from her body as she tried to escape the sharp shards. Wailing and crying, she attempts to crawl the rest of the way. Her palms and knees are reduced to wounded fleshy matter and her throat grows hoarse from her shrieks. This is when you notice the large bloody fragment protruding from her right eye.

You feel as though you're going to vomit, and you turn around, unable to watch. You hear other people shouting, starting to make it across the room and beckoning for the brown-haired woman to endure a little longer. You feel a hand on your shoulder, but you don't dare check who it is. You are too nauseated by the sounds of cracking glass and howling.

"I- I'm here!" The woman's pained voice shouts. "I made it to the end! I'm here-" Her sentence is cut off and you hear the sound of blood splatter. You feared she would be eliminated for not completed the challenge in the way it was intended. How cruel to make her crawl all the way across the room, only to die. You're about to turn and look at how close the dead woman came, but a voice tells you not to.

"Don't look." You had hoped the hand on your shoulder was Niragi's, but instead, it belonged to the young boy you say near in the car. "It's not pretty. Just move on to the next room." He speaks. You nod, your hand tracing the handle of the door to the next room before shoving it open.

Before you, there were pull-up bars positioned over stepping stools. Again, there were instructions to take your place at one of them. You let out a shaky breath and approached one of them. A timer on the wall was stopped at five minutes.

Nobody spoke. Maybe everyone was still processing the gruesome death which had taken place in the last room. There was no celebrating that we'd all make it out. Only mourning for a stranger. You watched the others climb up their stepping stools, and you did the same, gripping onto the bar above your head tightly. You didn't need to be told what to do. You only need to hold on for five minutes.

The challenge begins, and all the stepping stools get lowered into the ground. Trap doors open up beneath everyone. If someone were to let go, they would fall onto the concrete grown of the basement below. Nobody could survive that fall. The timer ticks down tantalizingly slow. You can already feel the burning in your arms. You need something to pass the time.

"Hey." You turn to the young boy, who had taken his spot next to you. "What's your name?" He smiles, seemingly unphased by the deadhang challenge. Underneath the layers of clothes, maybe he actually had some muscle to him. "How old are you?"

"I'm Shinji." He replies politely. On the bar behind Shinji is Niragi, his eyes shut in concentration. "I turned fifteen over the summer. What's your name, Miss?"

"Y/N, and unfortunately I'm not quite as youthful as you." You joke, earning a light chuckle from Shinji. You adjust your hands, glancing at the timer. Four minutes and twelve seconds remaining. "What's your favorite color?"

"Oh, shut up!" Someone growls. It's the man who had been driving the car on the way to this game. "Nobody wants to hear all your boring chatter. Nobody cares about your favorite color, or your name. Just focus on not dying."

Suddenly, there is a mechanical whirring as your bar begins to rotate, your hands nearly slip, but you continuously adjust your grip. The stranger who had been sitting on the other side of you in the car slips, banging her head on the ground before falling into the darkness below. You nearly let out a scream, but you have to focus on the task at hand.

Your pull up bar was now rotating, and you constantly had to adjust your grip while still enduring the burn of keeping yourself on. Three minutes and thirty-nine seconds left. You only hoped there wouldn't be any more surprises during this challenge. Despite the difficultly you were facing now, at least you weren't injured, like in your last game.

You hear another person slip, the crunch of their bones echoing as they crash into the ground. You bite your lip, drawing blood as you attempt to stay stable on your bar. Two minutes and fifty-six seconds.

You don't dare to try and make any conversation now. You are barely able to stay steady as is. One of your arms slips, earning a popping sound in your other shoulder. You scream as pain surges up your arm. You must have dislocated something. You reach back up, attaching both hands to your bar again. Tears prick your eyes, but you can't afford to let go right now. Your life depends on it.

Two minutes and two seconds. More than half the time is already passed. You feel your palms trembling as you try to hang on. Your left arm is now completely numb from the shoulder down. Suddenly, the bars stop rotating. It's a relief, a moment of rest and bliss. Unfortunately, this moment does not last long before they begin to rotate in the other direction. You hear Shinji groaning in pain, and you look towards his direction again.

"Almost there Shinji. Just hang in there a bit longer." You try to sound confident and comforting, but your voice is cracking. He gives you no reply, sweat dripping down his forehead as he desperately tries to keep up with the rotation.

Fifty-five seconds. Five minutes has never felt so long. You hear no struggle or complaints from Niragi or the driver. It makes you regret focusing so hard on your studies rather than being more well-rounded. Maybe if you had regularly gone to the gym a little more, you wouldn't be having such a hard time now.

Three.

Two.

One.

Finally, it's over, and the trap doors beneath you close. You sigh in relief, dropping down to the ground and tumbling on your knees. Shinji is the first to approach you, eyeing your shoulder with a grimace.

"Miss Y/N, your shoulder really doesn't look too good..." He says, crouching to help you up. "I think it's your shoulder blade. It's kind of... Sticking out?" You try to get a good look at your shoulder, but it feels nearly impossible. Your eyes land on Niragi, who has felt incredibly distant during the whole game.

"Niragi!" You shout to him. He pauses, taking a deep breath and begrudgingly walking up to you. "I think my shoulder blade is dislocated. I need your help." You say, looking up at him expectantly. He stands, observing you for a bit before groaning.

"Fine. Turn your ass around." He grumbles. You turn around, waiting for the searing pain that you're about to experience as Niragi pops your shoulder blade back into place. You shriek, but the pain only lasts a moment before relief washes over you. "You've gotta quit your screaming, you banshee." Niragi teases, turning away and trudging into the next room.

You and Shinji follow close behind, being met with a large stairwell going downwards. It makes you uneasy to be going down, especially considering there is only one more challenge before the end of the game. At the end of the stairs is an already open doorway. Niragi and the driver have already gone through.

The next room is a large rock-climbing facility, except it seems the rocks have already been removed from the ragged walls. Instead, there are several long ropes. At the top of the ropes, there are keys. Finally, this is where you're meant to be.

You approach the rope indicated to be yours. Upon a closer look, you realize that this is not a normal rope at all. It's barbed wire, braided up into a thick long cord. This is going to really hurt, but at least your shoulder is fixed for this portion of the game. So much for having no injuries.

There was yet another timer on the wall. Fifteen minutes. This filled you with dread. You would have to climb up this giant barbed wire rope in only fifteen minutes? You spy Shinji inspecting the rope before pressing his finger against it. It slices right into him, a drop of blood pooling on his pointer.

Before you can say anything, a loud beep sounds, and the timer has begun. You gulp, looking in Niragi's direction. He's already begun climbing, having torn some fabric from his shirt and wrapping it around his hands. You steal the idea, advising Shinji to do the same. You tear off part of your clothes, wrapping it around your hands and starting up the rope.

You can still feel your hands being pricked, but at least the spikes aren't digging into you. Shinji is making some good progress. So are you. Maybe everyone will make it to the end without any more death or injuries. Just then, you hear a yelp from your young friend. You look his way, seeing that the piece of fabric around his left hand had come undone. When he notices you looking, he waves the hand in the air.

"It's fine. I've still got the other one! Keep going!" He shouts. You nod, continuing to hoist yourself up the rope. Your hands tingle from the sensation of light pricks over and over again.

You turn back to check on Shinji. He's fallen farther behind, his left hand bloody from climbing. There are eleven minutes left. He can still catch up, right? You try to focus on your climbing, but Shinji's groans in pain keep tearing you away. You want to help him. You wish you could, but there would've been no way for you to reach him.

Your leg slips and a gash is created in your thigh. You hiss in pain as the warm blood begins to drip down your leg. It's always the same leg that happens to end up bleeding in these games. It takes you a moment to readjust, scratching up your limbs as you try to find your position once again. The fabric wrapped around your right hand gets torn, leaving your palm exposed to the barbed wire.

You continue onwards, trying to distance your mind from all the pain you're feeling. It burns like a million papercuts on your skin. Your movements grow sloppier and the wounds on your body grow until you are littered in lacerations.

You're lightheaded, and when you look down, you realize why. The barbed wire is covered in your blood. Not enough to be fatal, but enough to feel dizzy. You feel like you're underwater, and all sounds around you are muffled. There are somehow only four minutes left. Looking up, you see you only half a little more than a meter to go.

You gather all your strength, pulling yourself up further. You're almost there. You can see your key nearly in front of your face. You look back again, searching for any sign of where Shinji is.

He's still very far down, and your heart drops as you realize he likely won't make it in time. Then, you search for Niragi. He must've already made it up, because he was nowhere to be seen. You curse him for leaving you and Shinji behind. The rules clearly stated you could help one another.

"Keep going Shinji! You're nearly there!" You lie, hoping this will motivate him. You reach up to take more of your rope, inching closer and closer to the top. Suddenly, your other arm gives out and you slip down a few more feet. You screech as the wire cuts your face, thighs, arms, and chest. This is not so bad in comparison to falling to your death, but the agony still leaves your brain foggy.

You're getting to the point where you're losing too much blood. Tears fill your eyes as you force yourself to keep going. This is what it's all about, right? Surviving. Living. You need to live to get back home. To see your loved ones again. You need to finish your studies. You need to make it through this game.

You look up, spying Niragi standing on the ledge over you. You gasp, grateful to see that he stuck around. You reach your hand up, well within range for him to pull you to safety. Exhaustion was beginning to set in, and your body ached.

"Niragi!" You choke out his name, your arm outstretched to him while the other barely clung for dear life. "Pull me up!" Yet, you got no response. You didn't feel the warm touch of another hand grabbing yours. Only the cold air around your bloody palm. There was a pause, a hesitance, from the man you thought you could trust. Your sight blurred with tears of fatigue and heartache.

You watched his fuzzy form turn his back you to, walking away without another word.

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schattenhonig · 9 months ago

Text

The A in LGBTQIA+ doesn't stand for aspec because they're not repressed!

(please read the disclaimer at the end of this post)

Ummm, excuse me? Would you mind telling me what your definition of repression is, then?

Because I feel repressed when a doctor asks me about my sex life, and if I say I have none, it gets marked down as a symptom without being asked if I suffer from it.

I feel repressed when my gyn tells me I can't get a hysterectomy yet despite losing so much blood on every period that I need to take iron supplements all the time, because I could change my mind about not wanting children (which is a whole other post, I know, but it's most likely linked to sex).

I feel repressed if I can't use dating apps or platforms because my sexuality doesn't even exist there, and the one time I tried, I got called names because I didn't want to meet for because it was clear where this date would go, despite my explicit "what I'm looking for".

I feel repressed when I think about how recently a paragraph was finally abolished in my country that considered sex a vital part of a marriage, basically entitling the spouses to having sex with their partner (both gender neutral, because entitling people to having sex with somebody else by law is wrong. It's basically a rape permission).

I feel repressed when I can't watch any film or show without it being about love and/or sex, no matter if it fits the narrative and furthers the plot.

I feel repressed when I plot my own stories and automatically put a romantic couple in there as main characters, even though I have no idea why this would be important for the plot. Not even my own stories, my own thoughts are mine.

I felt repressed when I was asked accusingly in a relationship if I wasn't missing something before I even knew asexuality as a spectrum was a thing, and having to lie about this being a side effect of my medication instead of genuinely not feeling attracted to someone in this way.

I feel repressed when I can't tell people I'm not sexually attracted to them because they will take this personally no matter how well I explain myself.

I feel repressed when everywhere I look there's advertising relying on naked skin, suggestive posing and objectification. Why are expensive cars still presented by women considered beautiful and tempting? It's not like that's necessary to convince people of spending so much money on a thing that gets you from A to B. Couches with women in smart dresses and high heels. That's not what a normal person looks like on a couch. But the worst is a truck in the town where I live: it's from a small fruit and vegetable stand, so whenever I see it, it comes from the warehouse, delivering groceries. On it is a woman clad in very little, presenting fruit. I'm sorry, but why? Does a misogynistic picture convince you of the necessity to avoid scurvy?

I feel repressed when I tell people and get the answer "you just haven't found the right person yet", because there are two possible assumptions from that point: I'm either not trying hard enough (so it's basically my own fault) or something about me is not right, appalling even (which circles back to I'm not trying hard enough or frames me as a victim of my genetics, upbringing or circumstances to be pitied).

Do not tell me how I feel. Do not try to tell me everything is fine and I shouldn't complain or ask for acknowledgement if everywhere I look, I'm reminded of how odd, how weird and how not normal I am. How much it inconveniences you to even acknowledge my existence, let alone respect any of my traits, views and choices.

And while I can only write from my own asexual point of view, I wrote this with all kinds of flavours of aspec in mind, so I'm explicitly including aromantics, aroace people and every shade of the spectrum in this. Not all my examples may apply to you, but I hope you can find something to relate to.

ETA: please feel free to add your own experiences of repression!

#asexuality #somewhat of a vent #asexual #ace pride #ace #acespec #aromantic #aroace #read disclaimer at the end of post #aspec

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project-sekai-facts · 2 months ago

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I'm just gonna leave this here because I feel like I should say something. Mizuki is trans, I still agree with the stuff I said a month ago. Did they say it in the story? No. Were they ever going to say it in the story? Well it seemed like I was but they just pulled the most insane 4 year queerbait.

Did people warn me? Yes, and I probably should've listened more, but from a writer's perspective what happened in Ena5 is very stupid so I had a little bit more hope for clpl. Confining any sort of actual coming out scene to a card story and fading to black over the actual reveal is honestly just cruel. Not to mention that Mizuki's bio is probably locked as "gender: ?".

Mizuki is still a trans character and trans representation, though the lack of actual confirmation really sours her story. Especially since the only indirect confirmation of her identity as a woman comes from student a talking to Ena about Mizuki (the whole Ena is a "normal girl" thing). Having Mizuki being robbed of her chance to come out by transphobes, and never resolving this so her bullies are left as the only credible source of her gender is atrocious. Mizuki being outed was a crucial plot point, to never resolve just leaves a bad taste.

It's still a glaring issue that clpl is trying to play both sides here. Which has always been an issue with things like white day and other marketing featuring Mizuki and the boys together. It's just gross that they're still trying to do it now, cutting off the actual reveal of Mizuki's secret and having the characters say "Mizuki is Mizuki", something that's often used by people who want to deny any trans reading, and a new area conversation about Mizuki's voice. Remember that old area convo about Mizuki having a lower voice. It gets referenced in a new one.

The reveal of the secret itself, transness aside, is comedically bad. Project SEKAI's writing isn't exactly amazing by any means, it's pretty basic in the grand scheme of writing, but this is worse than a lot of their other worst offenders. Building up to this big reveal of a secret that is incredibly important to one character's development, only for it not to actually be revealed, and probably never mentioned again, is ridiculous. It feels like a last minute change to ensure mass appeal but I don't know if it was. If it was, they still failed because some fans are dissatisfied that they never got told what it was, regardless of what they think it was.

And no, it's not corporate meddling. Probably. From colopale, maybe, from Sega, honestly probably not. Sega has other franchises and games with queer and specifically trans characters so it's not like Mizuki would be harmful to their brand image. If anyone interfered it was other staff at colopale.

Anyway, I'm not quitting the game and I'll still be running this blog for the time being. Not saying you have to continue playing and I totally understand people who are dropping the game over this. If anyone wants to add their thoughts to this post or send an ask freel free to.

#mod talks #project sekai spoilers #negativity

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tourettesdog · 3 months ago

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Beta Reading and Fanfiction

I’ve been writing for a long time myself, but it’s only been very recently that I’ve immersed myself in communities online for it. I’ve been having so much fun really diving into Danny Phantom and DPxDC fanfic, and I’ve met so many great friends doing so.

I mostly do my own writing, but I’ve really enjoyed doing some beta reading as well, especially for friends! There’s something so fun about getting to dive into a work in progress and help where you can.

But I do feel like some people might really struggle to understand how to beta read, or what makes a good beta reader— especially where fanfiction is concerned. I’ve been extremely fortunate to have wonderful beta readers, but I’ve had some friends frustrated with the beta reading they’ve in turn received, or otherwise feeling uncomfortable in asking for a beta reader since they don’t know what to expect.

So, how should beta reading work? How do you do a good job?

Above all, the most important thing about beta reading is communication with your author. You are not in their WIP to prove how good of a writer you are, or to hammer their work into what you would personally be proud to present online. You are there to help, in whatever way the author has asked or communicated they're comfortable with.

Before you beta read anything it is vital to ask what the author is looking for in a beta reader. There are a number of things you can ask in particular, including:

What are you looking for help with?

Do you just want me to look for typos or confusing sentences?

Do you want suggestions for things to add?

Do you want suggestions on grammar, or other more in-depth writing suggestions?

Do you need help with characterization, or even the plot?

Depending on who you are beta reading for, you might have someone who only wants a very light beta touch. They might just want you to look for glaring mistakes, or for confirmation that a plot beat makes sense.

Other authors might want something much more involved! They might be trying to improve their grammar, or perhaps they're not very familiar with writing a new character and they would like suggestions for how to better capture their voice.

Regardless of what an author wants in a beta reader, you won't know unless you ask them! It's possible that you simply might not be compatible as beta reader and author, depending on their answer, and there's nothing wrong with that. It's okay to step back and say "I personally like to beta read things more in depth than this, so I might not be the best person to give it a look."

Otherwise, getting an answer about your author's preferences can help you figure out how to help them. Perhaps you would normally make more suggestions, but if an author has specified that they're not comfortable with that, then it's not your job as their beta reader to do so. If you are capable of sticking to the help they've asked for, then you will ultimately be fulfilling your role as their beta reader admirably.

"But I'm just trying to help. Their work has a lot of places it could improve!"

Again, beta reading is not about shaping a story into something you would personally present as your writing. It is about helping the author produce a story they're comfortable with and proud of.

It's not about being right, or heavily criticizing their writing and grammar abilities (unless this is what the author has explicitly requested!)

Especially while writing fanfiction, the work presented is not something that will ever see publishing, or that needs to have flawless grammar and syntax. This is work done for free, and it is done for fun.

And that's something very vital to beta reading—

A beta reader needs to preserve the fun.

It's very daunting, putting your work out there for others. It's especially daunting putting your work up for analysis of any kind. You're accepting that people might not understand your vision, or may judge you for what you've written.

It's all too easy to compare yourself to other creatives online, and to overthink and overanalyze your talents. Too often, it’s easy to get discouraged and feel like your work isn’t good enough.

Beta reading should never be done in a way that will discourage writing. Even if an author has asked for a lot of help, it’s important to pick your battles with what you choose to analyze, and to check in with them if you feel like you might be crossing boundaries or covering their work in too much metaphorical red ink.

When people are trying to improve their writing, you don’t always have to mark every little suggestion you think of. Unless the author is a friend you know well, or has explicitly asked for Extreme measures of help, it might be best to ignore some smaller writing issues and focus instead on bigger things.

If you’ve already marked a lot of issues in one paragraph, but have more things you could say, consider if the additional suggestions are vital or if it might be better to leave them be. After all, if your author is looking to improve, and if you are planning to beta read for them again in the future, then helping them with more glaring issues now will help them in a way that is not overwhelming, and will open the door for other kinds of suggestions to be better understood and absorbed.

You can always check in with your author if you’re unsure, too. Ask them if they appreciate the amount of suggestions you’ve given them, or if it’s been too much. Your author might be uncomfortable with telling you that they’re overwhelmed, and checking in is a good way to ensure that you’re both on the same page.

All that being said, though, it is also important to not always focus on things to fix and improve. You’re not just editing the story, you’re reading it. Part of keeping beta reading fun is engaging in that story as any reader would. It both helps morale, and helps let the author know what they’re doing right, when you take the time to tell them what you enjoy about the work you’re beta reading!

There are so many ways you can express positive things about an author’s writing. Consider:

“I love how you phrased this sentence here.”

“This body language feels natural and very in character!”

“I love this word choice here.”

“This part was really funny and had me laughing.”

“I’m excited to see where this goes!”

You’re reading a story, and you must have thoughts and feelings on it outside of suggestions. Let your author know! People thrive on positive feedback, and there’s just as much to be gained in marking Positive attributes to a story as there is in noting places to improve.

The last major thing I feel is vital to beta reading is respecting that it is your author’s work, and that your suggestions (however clever or helpful you feel they are) may be rejected. And that that is okay.

Suggestions are just that— suggestions.

What you might like in creative writing might not necessarily be what your author wants to express. You might love to use ellipses, or lots of different dialogue tags, while your author might prefer dashes and more standard dialogue tags. You might like to use more colorful descriptions of scenery and atmosphere, while your author might want to focus much more on the character body language and dialogue. You might like to use a lot of exclamation points and next to no italics, while your author might like a lot of italics and very little exclamation points.

You’re ultimately two different people, with two different ideas of what is an ideal way to tell a story. And while you can give many different suggestions on just about anything the author might add, remove, or change, it’s ultimately the author’s choice whether or not they accept those changes.

It’s not your job as a beta reader to double down and insist that they accept a specific suggestion. It’s not your job to make a case for why you think they need to change something. If an author has denied a suggestion— it’s best to let it go. Especially if you don’t know them well, and don’t have a very good rapport with them, pushing the issue will only serve to make you both uncomfortable.

It’s not just about picking your battles, but also about mutual respect. You’re not a teacher, nor an editor looking to make their work prime for publishing. You have to respect their decisions for their own story, even if that means they decide not to take a suggestion you felt would be impactful.

It’s also always important to keep in mind that writing style, particularly where creative writing is concerned, can vary wildly. The strict rules that you learn in school were made to be broken. You learn them to figure out how to break them and, particularly when writing for fun, it doesn’t even matter if you’re breaking those rules in a perfect way. It’s fanfiction. It’s freeform, it’s fun. If someone wants to make a habit out of going buckwild with their writing style, there’s really no reason to try and corral their writing into a box labeled “High School English 101”.

You can’t force someone to write their fanfiction like it’s going to go to a letter grade, nor should you try to unless they’re looking for that level of editing.

Be willing to listen, and pay attention to what is and isn’t working. It’s good to take note of suggestions that your author has already commented on. Have they thanked you for pointing out something in particular? Have they expressed they feel weak with something in their writing?

Is there a type of suggestion that you keep making that they have rejected multiple times?

Work with their strengths and with their style. Focus on suggestions that have been received well, and consider letting go of ones that the author clearly has no interest in, or that might conflict with their style.

Communicate and respect each other, above all else.

Beta reading is such a helpful and wonderful thing someone can do for an author. I’ve been so thankful to have it done for my own work, and I try my best to be helpful and considerate when I’ve beta read myself.

Having my work beta read has really helped me find things to improve upon in my writing, and has helped me feel more confident in the stories I’ve posted, just having another eye look over them before they hit the internet. I don’t always take all of their suggestions, and might disagree from time to time with the direction they want something to go in, but I’ve been thankful to have understanding, kind betas that work with me well.

And that’s one more point I want to touch on too, is that I hope that, as a beta reader, you find yourself with authors that show you mutual respect in turn. That they thank you for the work you’ve put in to help them succeed, and have made the experience positive for you as well.

It always makes me happy to see beta readers credited on posted works. It’s a kind thing for writers to show appreciation, and to acknowledge that someone helped shape the words you see on the page.

This got much longer than I intended it to, but I just hope that this post might help some people in some way. Either to understand beta reading and the purpose of it, or how to potentially go about it themselves.

I really recommend giving beta reading a try if you’re comfortable with it, especially if you have friends that write fanfiction! Even just an extra pair of eyes looking for typos can be a godsend for someone who has spent hours upon hours staring at a long fic and editing it.

#fanfiction #danny phantom #dpxdc #beta reading #beta reader #dog barks

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adieutristana · 6 days ago

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ribbons and lace; jinx x fem!reader

first smut fic let's go... part 2 to pins and needles since it got a positive reception. if this sucks don't kill me

since writing this i will have a new section in my rules post specifically for nsfw. feel free to send in any nsfw requests, but please read through before doing so!

characters included; jinx

summary; jinx getting worked up after volunteering to be a dress form for her girlfriend. her girlfriend notices, and helps her.

tags/warnings; seamstress!reader, dom!reader, sub!jinx, foreplay, semi-public, fingering, dirty talk, sliiiiight degredation, squirting, crying, explicit consent, beginning of aftercare

men and minors dni.

she's flushed, and she swears she's okay, but you know better than that. you know that jinx has always been the last person to ask for and especially accept help. but what could have her in such a state? flushed, breathless, sweaty, even. you step forward to jinx's chair, brushing your lips against her forehead in an effort to gauge her temperature. that's the only other explanation you can think of at this moment.

another shiver runs down jinx's spine. yet, she feels completely normal. the way your girlfriend looks, you'd swear that she'd be burning up.

"come on, baby. talk to me. something's wrong."

you whisper, pulling your lips from jinx's forehead. the girl can't muster up a response to you, rather she won't. your face is mere centimeters from jinx's, close enough that you can feel her hot breath against your skin. her breathing is labored and her eyes have this look in them that you've seen before- several times.

oh. that's what this is about.

you let out a huff, before striding over to the clear door of your studio. flipping the sign so that it reads 'CLOSED,' and closing the dark curtains usually reserved for off-hours.

you walk back over to jinx, still sat ever so unceremoniously in one of your chairs. probably soaking the cushion as you observe her. you cross your arms over your chest, cocking your head to the side in a faux-annoyed manner.

"i have a deadline, jinx. i can't be doing things like this," you mutter, tutting as you slowly shake your head. her rosy eyes are blown wide, looking at you as if you're her lifeline. her one and only sanctuary, the only thing that can give her exactly what she needs.

"i know, i'm sorry- i just.." she breathes out, raspy voice barely above a whisper. "i need you, toots. please."

you let out a heavy sigh, bringing your forefinger and thumb to jinx's chin. you simply look for a moment, observing the sheen of jinx's skin, the slight furrow of dark brows, the way her plump lips press into a pout. you haven't done a damn thing, yet she's already this worked up.

"you're really this helpless?"

you mutter, though it's clear you're not looking for an answer. you claim your girlfriends lips in a hungry kiss, soft lips moving against her own. your tongue swipes along her bottom lip as a silent plea for entrance, and she immediately grants it to you. one hand comes to tangle in your hair, a desperate effort to press you closer to her as if your tongue isn't already inside her mouth. you'd laugh if you weren't so busy right now.

you swallow up soft whimpers, jinx's breathing labored and her sharp fingernails now digging into your scalp. you continue to explore her mouth with your tongue as both of your hands begin to run along jinx's bare, slim waist. you pull away with a gasp as one of your hands finds the hemline of jinx's leather top, your middle finger hooking underneath.

"you're sure this is what you want?"

you ask, your eyes boring into the girl's. she frantically nods, almost as if this is the most important question she's been asked in her life. maybe in this moment, it feels like that for her.

"yes, yes- i need it. please, please-"

she's cut off by the feeling of you quickly grabbing one of her perky tits beneath her top and squeezing, a sharp whine being drawn from the girl. ever so reactive, ever so sensitive. you run the pad of your thumb over her hardened nipple, your other hand working to quickly push up her shirt up above her tits. you almost swear that you can feel yourself salivate at the mere sight. this has always been one of your favorite features of your girlfriend.

"didn't take much to shut you up, huh?"

you murmur, still teasing the pert bud beneath your fingers. you're looming over her as if you're some malevolent presence, here to take your prey and do whatever you please with her. oh, how she wishes you would.

"mm, shut up," she manages to breathe out. "i'm just.. sensitive,"

"i know, baby."

you whisper, your free hand trailing back down her waist to make its way closer to your destination. you can feel her abs tensing beneath your touch as cold fingers run over her obliques, you can feel exactly where her hip bone juts out. goosebumps littered across the pale expanse of her stomach. pale blue clouds littered across her skin, each one its own separate masterpiece on the most beautiful canvas possible. it's a sight to behold- one you've seen times prior, yet one you know will never grow old.

"i've always loved your tits," you rumble, your hand coming back to her now-neglected breast. you pinch the erect nipple, rolling it between your fingers as jinx squeals and squirms.

"so small, so perky, so perfect, and just for me."

without another word, you drop to your knees in front of jinx's chair.

you're now eye-level with her knees. you'd been here just a few moments prior, pinning fabrics onto her and trying to get her to stop squirming so damn much. now it made sense, why she couldn't keep still. your hands braced on either knee, you gently coax them apart. jinx's chest is heaving, perky tits on full display as her breaths come in shorter and shorter. it's a good thing you pulled that curtain.

"dirty girl. i'm trying to do a job here," you chastise as your fingers fly to unfasten her belt, a quick and practiced movement. you pull it off of her, whilst your fingers hook into the waistband of her striped pants. "but you just couldn't wait. this client is gonna be pissed, you know. maybe you should go explain yourself to them. tell them why there was a hold-up."

the fabric is battered and torn from countless battles, cuts and holes strewn across the garment and the legs of her pants impossibly frayed. you'd offered more times than you could count to fix them, hell, even make new pants for her, but she'd always insisted on wearing these old things. said they had 'character.' you sigh, shaking your head as you pull the article from her ankles.

jinx is left nearly bare before you, save for a manipulated top and a pair of baby blue panties. your eyes dart beneath her thighs, directly towards the wet patch on her underwear. soaked through. good gods, she was insatiable. you let out a low chuckle while you moved up on your knees, bringing your dominant hand toward her pussy. pressing your middle finger down right over her clothed clit, eliciting a sharp cry from her.

"fuck!"

"come on. this wet already, and i haven't even touched you properly."

you tut, though you can't bring yourself to be truly angry. it's kind of endearing, how desperate she is. her body taut as each muscle coils with pure, unabashed need. fingers dancing along the edge of her panties, before swiftly pulling them down and off of her. you spread jinx's thighs just the slightest bit wider, then glance back up to jinx. her big eyes are still fixed on you, following your every move and whim. your fingernails drag along jinx's inner thigh. a tantalizing tease, remining jinx of what she wants, but she can't have. not yet, anyways.

"s-stop teasing," she whines, her voice low. you snicker lightly, before pressing your middle finger back over her needy clit. jinx's body nearly stutters with the sensation, the feeling of you rubbing slow, borderline torturous circles into her. her lips are already parted while she looks down at you, before you sink your middle finger into her.

"shiiiit," she breathes out, feeling the steady movement of your finger. slowly pumping in and out of her, stretching her ever so gently.

"you like that?" you whisper, adding your ring finger as well. there's a bit of resistance, though jinx is quickly able to accommodate to the new addition. lewd sounds of wet squelching fill your studio, jinx's increasingly loud moans bouncing off the walls like some perverted medley. your fingers begin to pound into jinx, drawing nearly pornographic noise from those beautiful parted lips.

"hnggh- oh! don't stop, right there-" she grunts, your fingers making contact with the spongy spot that always makes jinx see stars. you brace your free hand on her opposite thigh, grabbing both to hold her in place and ground her. a low laugh escapes you. nothing about this is amusing necessarily, but it's just too damn perfect.

"look at this pussy," you murmur, your voice a low husk. "swallowing me up. nice and wet f'me." watching your fingers disappear again and again into jinx's sopping hole, ever so eager. as if she was made to take you.

"ah, aaah- you- ngh!" the girl pauses, head falling backward. "you like it?"

"oh, i love it," you affirm, your fingers continuing their delirious assault on jinx. "i love this pussy so fuckin' much. you have no idea."

"mmph... show me, show me," she pleads, her voice a weak rasp. her tits are bouncing the slightest bit whilst you finger-fuck her, the pale skin of her neck exposed and her braids dragging on the ground beneath her. "show me how much you love it."

you don't need to be told twice. your thumb comes to press into jinx's throbbing clit, which forces a guttural moan from the depths of her chest. that shut her up. your fingers continue to pound in and out of jinx, going at break-neck speed. you might break your fingers for all you know, but you also can't be bothered to care at this point. jinx is taking everything you're giving her so well, her chest and face flushed pink as her breath comes to her in short pants. she's nearly shaking under your touch; exactly how you like her.

your fingers continue to curl inside her just right, your thumb playing with that pretty clit in the way you know drives jinx mad. she's starting to grind her hips down onto your hand, seeking any bit of extra friction that she can get. her abs and thigh muscles clench amidst the pleasure. maybe another time jinx would bite down on her bottom lip in an effort to stifle the noises, but not today. she's entirely unashamed.

"so damn loud, too." you remark, accentuated by another sharp thrust. "the whole of zaun is gonna hear you at this point. is that what you want, hm? want everyone to know i'm fucking their symbol?"

the words draw a high-pitched whine from jinx, though she doesn't seem to respond to them.

"hnng.." she grunts." i need- hmph,"

"you need...?" you urge, your voice barely audible over the wet sounds you're drawing from her cunt. you know what she needs, you can feel it in the way her gummy walls are clenching around your digits. the way her body is heaving, her chest in an interrupted rhythm of up, down, up down. she needs to cum is what she needs, but frankly, you want to draw this out a bit.

you know jinx's mind is growing fuzzy, that it's difficult for her to string together a coherent sentence, let alone say it right now. she'd gotten herself into this, really. getting so turned on by just a few innocent touches, when she had been the one to offer herself up as a dress form. her little whines and moans fill your ears, a rhythmic 'ah, ah, ah.'

and still, part of you can't help but take pity on her. head tossed back, blue bang partially sticking to her face while moans spill from her lips. she looks a damn mess, yet divine. curse jinx for being so beautiful, for being able to make you fold so easily.

"please," she cuts through. hot tears are beginning to well in her eyes, a testament to just how good you're making her feel. how desperately she needs this. "please, i need to-"

"shh," you interrupt, shifting on your knees to rise slightly. peppering light kisses on the expanse of jinx's neck. "cum for me, jinx."

jinx is teetering on the precipice of climax, so damn close. you continue your relentless rhythm, and it's as if a dam breaks. light pink liquid squirts onto your hand and forearm, a strangled cry of your name escaping jinx. she writhes in the chair, thrashing back and forth against your hand while her hips stutter, trying to ride out the high. her face falls forward, tears running down pale cheeks and dark mascara staining her under eyes.

she looks a damn wreck, but gods is she beautiful.

"shh, shh," you offer, sliding your soaked hand out of jinx's cunt. "i'm here."

taking to your feet, you gently scoop jinx into your arms and settle into her chair, situating jinx on your lap. her breathing is still shallow, coming to her in pants, but the lovestruck look in those half-lidded eyes is all of the reassurance that you need to prove your girlfriend is okay.

she almost immediately wraps her toned arms around your shoulders, pressing her cheek against your chest in an effort to anchor herself back to reality. your clean hand brushes her bang from her face, then brushes underneath an eye to wipe her tears as your lips brush against her forehead. a gentle reminder of your love, yet a stark contrast to how you were handling her just a moment ago.

"i'm sorry," she breathes out, voice weak. "i interrupted your work..."

you chuckle lowly, shaking your head. jinx isn't actually sorry, she never is about this kind of thing. maybe it's some effort to please you, but no matter.

"i don't mind. you were so good for me."

you whisper, before claiming her lips in a soft kiss. plump lips move against yours slow and steady.

"i love you."

"i love you too," you hum. "let's get you cleaned up, yeah?"

#jinx x reader #jinx smut #arcane x reader #reader insert #arcane x you #jinx x you #sapphic

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spread-the-influence · 24 days ago

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AU POST...

originated from a doodle that spiraled and being brought out of the brink of being scrapped because of an among us song , SPREAD THE INFLUENCE is an au that has it all !

the influence is a parasitical virus that serves to do one thing — Spread through any means necessary . and unfortunately , our favorite ragdoll had to take the brunt of it !

it achieves this by attaching itself to its host and through an Itty Bitty Bit ( read : a Lot ) of psychological torment , they make the host compliant to infect others with the virus . there are many ways a host could make others fall to the influence , but in this case it's through emotional manipulation and good ol' butchering !

ragatha ' successfully ' infects most of the circus , but there's a tiny jester who resists it through pure lesbian rage and now she's bearing the pressure of being the only hope for things to go back to normal . pomni's totally having a very fun time

of course , the circus will eventually be freed from the virus - but we'll talk about the long and rocky journey of recovery and learning you hurt literally Everybody you cared about later !

for anything about the au's story , i hugely recommend that you read the comic !

___

why is ragatha the host ? non-spoilery reason ? she's my favorite and i think she should suffer

are reposts okay ? YES ! you all are free to repost this comic in other platforms AS LONG AS YOU link this account and specify that you did not create the comic ! for any possible translators , i use the font agency fb ( chapter 1-4 ) and calisto mt ( chapter 5 beyond )

could i use / be inspired by the influence for my au ? i did not invent the concept of Computer Viruses so feel free to be inspired by it , i'm sure anyone else would've thought of this kinda thing . i allow t.i ragatha to be used for any possible crossover underverse-esque au content with credit ! for any other aus that want to use her character , drop an ask in my ask box and i'll see if i'll grant permission .

are there ships ? just pomni x ragatha

are ocs allowed ? 100% yes ! feel free to mention me , i'll be interested in what you have !

are fan content ( fan art / fics / comic dubs / etc . ) allowed ? YES ! you don't need permission . mention me if you want me to see it !

are suggestive content okay ? idc just tag it as tw suggestive or suggestive so people who are uncomfy with that won't see it

are nsfw content okay ? idc just don't put it in the main tag so minors won't stumble across it , tag appropriately , and Don't send it to me cause i'll block you

are spin-offs ( aus of this au ) okay ? it's fine as long as you make it clear i didn't create it and that it's not canon !

#>>MISC;#tadc influence au #tw scopophobia

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meanbossart · 2 months ago

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ASK COMPILATION: BODY HAIR, BHAALIST DU DROW, BLOOD INQUIRIES, THE MAN'S DICK AND HOBBIES.

Answering more asks! As always, I want to apologize for not being able to get to everyone - literally nobody has ever complained about it, but I still feel bad 😅I appreciate everyone's questions and sweet messages all the same, and even if your ask isn't here I hope you can be entertained by the other replies!

Anon I feel terrible about having to say this because I can tell you were hoping for a specific answer here, plus doing your very best to sell your pitch to me -

But DU drow hates body hair.

I'm not making this up in the spot just to be a contrarian, this is one of various unimportant character details that have come up already at some point or another, for whatever reason. It is no coincidence that many of the characters he finds unattractive do have visible body hair, like Gale and Halsin whose hairy toes he dreads the sight of.

I refuse to believe that elves are truly dolphin-smooth as that would be an absolute biological nightmare, so both him and Astarion have a normal amount of peach-fuzz all over. Otherwise, DU drow finds the sight of anything longer/coarser than that unseemly, and the feeling unpleasant; it is simply what he grew up with and hence what he's used to. In this respect, he wants people who take after his own image.

As with most things, he could forgive it if he were in love with someone - assuming you don't mind the occasional joke about it. And unfortunately I think something as significant as Halsin's case would be too off-putting for him to ever give them a chance. A Shadowheart situation, on the other hand, he could grow to like.

I believe there's some sources that imply bhaal-corrupted(?) blood should taste a particular way, leaning towards the unpleasant. People can make up whatever headcanons they want with that information, BUT since I spent over half of this game supplying the guy with the stuff and he seemed all too pleased about it, I choose to assume it's not that bad.

I think there would be something... Lively about it? Fairly normal taste but it leaves a tingle on his tongue, like it squirms on its way out and dies in his mouth moments before it can hit the throat. Very salty, but it could just be his skin.

[FAR, FAR MORE UNDER THE CUT]

Bhaalist DU drow likes both cats and dogs just fine (again, he considers the animal kingdom to be it's own thing and hence removed from his fate to butcher humanity) and you wouldn't be wrong to assume he has a thing for dogs in that AU because of their unconditionally loving and loyal nature, however Bhaalist DU drow is still very much a cat person. He likes their independence, their little attitudes, their self-sufficiency, plus the fact that they keep the rat population in check inside the temple. He finds those qualities admirable, respectable, perhaps he would even find them desirable in a partner if, unlike he cats, he wasn't so opposed to them roaming free.

In-game DU drow succeeded the check required to spot Astarion before he could jump him - so yes, just not the version where they end up rolling awkward around the sand for 2 minutes, LOL.

He's semi aware of it, or at least he becomes aware whenever Astarion's mask slips. When Astarion is putting on a good performance, DU drow wholeheartedly believes it. Also, It's worth noting that Astarion does manage to have fun occasionally, and have periods of... Superficial happiness? They just so happen to be unfulfilling, and don't make up for all the other pitfalls of his situation when they inevitably come crashing back. He's also great at tricking himself into thinking this is a good time.

Bhaalist DU drow makes vague attempts at "making things better" whenever he catches him in a mood, usually through physical affection or lavish gifts. That works well enough the first year I think, before everything kind of loses its luster. After that, DU drow just gets it into his head that Astarion "doesn't understand what he must do to succeed and keep him safe".

This is a VERY interesting observation and... Maybe? Especially early in the relationship, DU drow finds Astarion's quasi-predatorial behavior very attractive, but only AFTER he notices his vampirism. I think this outlook of the character contextualizes Astarion's condition in a way that he can immediately understand and simpathize with, even if DU drow doesn't know much about vampires themselves. Of course, this is specific to Astarion - he does not extend this grace to the rest of his kind.

I'll be thinking about this one!

I don't know the video in question but from your description I think they would both be VERY confused, LOL.

HMM, I think that might actually depend on a lot of things! Assuming the woman (or just the other partner) in the relationship isn't a drow, and exactly what KIND of devotion we're talking about (is the drow pro-active? Protective? Does he put his neck on the line for this relationship with pride? Does he seem strong and capable and like he doesn't rely on his partner?) he might see enough of himself in him that they could actually get along. This is similar to how DU drow immediately took a liking to Aylin even though she's this moon-goddess child and a supposed beacon of justice.

The quickest way to get on DU drow's good side is to be the idealized version of what he believes himself to be. Oh, and not get in his way.

If they're both drow it's kind of hopeless though, yeah LOL.

Planning on it!!

DU drow never slept with Haarlep! He only took his clothes off and then attacked him full in the nude.

...I'm not sure how to justify that in the lore, but it's exactly what I did and it's too funny to take it back, LOL

I think Astarion was just kind of baffled by what transpired until DU drow turned to while hopping around pulling his pants back on and asked if he enjoyed the show, then he remembered he just loves finding any excuse to take his clothes off.

That's a lovely compliment, I definitely go for a very "organic" look so I genuinely appreciate it. Thank you!

Thank you!!! A lot has actually been said about Gortash in my #enver gortash tag, if you'd like to get all the gritty details. Suffice to say that they had a very odd but significant friendship.

DU drow is the kind of person who shoots awake as soon as the sun starts gracing the sky, but he tends to do whatever he has to do and then go back to bed right after, and stay there at least a bit past noon. He did this both in his bhaalist days and in Astarion's company, though the amount of time he spends asleep during the day definitely increases because of the vamp, especially over time!

So, the urethra in a penis is located pretty much on the underside of the shaft, so the wound actually does not reach it! As far as functions go - peeing and ejaculating - it comes out of the tip's opening as normal. When he first caused the wound it probably did puncture the urethra, but that would have closed up over time. What you see is the injury many years after the fact, after all.

So the implications are pretty minor. Aesthetically, his foreskin hangs a bit weirdly when he's soft (like a tiny little penis curtain) and has more give than usual. Functionally, he has spots within the scarred up injury that are either numb or overly sensitive. Also, you can kind of see the dickhead notch through his underwear which is fun.

Otherwise, that is pretty much it! No worries about the nature of the question I've gotten worse, LOL. Thank you for your kind words as well!

I think he used to write in his bhaalist days - very, very occasionally mind you - like if you scoured the temple you would find a dozen or so ripped up pieces of paper with little short poems on them, written in a very sharp and carefree hand. Anywhere from 3 to 10 lines per-poem, usually less than more. The sentences are descriptive of actions, never feelings or thoughts, but they don't ever seem literal.

Back in those days, he also went to the theater every other year.

Post-tadpole, he ends up dabbling in carpentry, leather-work, and enjoys listening for musical numbers taking place in taverns and inns to go to and watch. He eventually starts pulling Astarion into little slow dances when that happens. I think he might end up writing again someday, but not for many, many years.

#ask compilation #ask #bhaalist du drow #du drow and astarion

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lowkeyrobin · 10 months ago

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could you write something where walker scobell and reader like each other, are super obvious about it but also super oblivious when it comes to knowing each others feelings? (bonus points if the cast of percy jackson is involved and all know about their feelings for each other)! 🎀

aweeee oh my lord yes!!! stop this is so fucking cute wtffff 😭🙏 ; thanks for requesting and I hope you enjoy!!! ; ALSO!! this features a random oc because apparently no one from the older cast other than Charlie and Aryan can be normal so 🤞, oc is supposed to be like a bg character for one of Luke's friends in the show anyways!!! ; sorry this turned out so bad after you waited so long for it LMAO

WALKER SCOBELL ; oblivious

summary ; youre both oblivious to each other's feelings, and your costars need to help push you together

warnings ; language

disclaimers ; I mentioned some stores/brands that I'm pretty sure are zionist corps, so please don't go support them! this is just a fanfic, don't see this as advertisement bc these places kinda suck anyways. free palestine and do your daily clicks on arab.org

word count ; 1.6k

masterlist

"You're so stupid," Aryan sighs, walking next to you toward the mall entrance.

Leah and Walker walk ahead of you two, both talking about whatever they wanted to do while they were here. Charlie and Jordan walk behind you, acting as your parental gaurdians because apparently at ages 14-17, you weren't responsible enough to walk around a mall yourselves and needed a pair of 19 year olds by your side.

"He doesn't like me, and I don't like him, Aryan. Get it through your thick skull" You chuckle.

"Uh huh" He nods sarcastically, rolling his eyes.

Walker and Leah quickly turn around, walking backwards. "Come on, we're going to Target!"

You and Aryan share a look and quickly chase after them, Charlie and Jordan walking behind all of you like uninterested parents.

You jog across the top floor of the mall and take the escalator down right in front of Target, heading for the interior doors. Leah, Walker, and Aryan head towards the children's toys aisles while you find yourself distracted in the music department. Charlie and Jordan walk around the store, just browsing while you younger teens do whatever. They weren't going to be responsible for any destruction.

You scan through the CDs, looking for anything you didn't have that you found interesting. You pick up a Conan Gray CD, one of his new album Found Heaven. You look to the left, seeing Walker quickly walking towards you, nearly walking into some lady's cart around a corner of one of the aisles.

"Hey." You chuckle, making it clear you saw him nearly get his hip busted by a middle-aged woman.

"Hi" The blonde smiles nervously, "What're you up to?"

You hold up the CD, "Browsing"

He nods, "I've never listened to him, should I?" He asks, beginning to flip through the CDs himself.

You look at him with slightly widened eyes. "Walker, how have you never listened to Conan Gray?..."

He shrugs, "I dunno"

"I'm forcing you to listen to him in the car."

"Okay, okay"

You continue looking through the CDs, seeing if they had anything else to your interest. For a split second, your shoulder brushes against his, considering you were standing so close.

You keep quiet, feeling your face heat up a bit. He feels the same way, unbeknownst to you. You nervously glance at each other, milliseconds apart so you never saw the opposite look.

"Walker, we found water guns!"

"They're so awesome, I could literally just stare at them all day while they talk about their favorite movie" The curly haired blonde smiles, slowly strolling down the lower half of the mall with Aryan and Leah at his side. "I don't think I've ever smiled and laughed so much than when I'm with them, seriously. Everything about them is so amazing, like, I could marry them here and now"

"And you said you don't have a crush on them," Leah states sarcastically, rolling her eyes. "You're something else"

"I don't have a crush on them!" Walker exclaims, the plastic bag in his hand slinging back and forth as he walked, spinning it around his fingers. "I was just describing what I like about them, yeesh"

The two look at him with similar expressions.

"You have a crush on them. Accept it, dude." Aryan sighs, patting Walker on the shoulder. "I'm like, 99% sure they feel the same way as well"

"Shut up!"

"Walker!"

"Quiet!"

You instantly connect the disembodied voice to your familiar blonde friend, having been grabbing a pretzel with Jordan and Charlie. You were stealing their money for food since you'd spent fifty dollars on CDs, plus an extra one for Walker. Thank God Charlie knew who his favorite band was, you'd wanted to get him an actual gift before you left for home tomorrow.

Jordan and Charlie sat down at one of the tables next to the big escalator in the middle of the mall, in clear earshot of the trio who just walked out of Bath and Body Works. They send a shared expression to Leah and Aryan, and they both nod back.

Walker doesn't notice, considering he was busy ranting about how he doesn't have a crush on you and was more focused on his body language and speaking with his hands then figuring out who or what his friends were looking at.

You walk to the table, get a look at the trio, their backs face towards you, and you hand Charlie and Jordan their food.

The two are oddly quiet as they munch down, which makes you question if they're conspiring against you. You ignore it, though, wanting to enjoy your pretzel while you had it.

Charlie and Jordan finally start conversation as you finish up your pretzel and soda, which you devoured. They were talking about some TV show they liked as you stood up, threw your garbage away, and headed toward the bathrooms. You leave the elder teens alone, walking down the dim side-hallway to the restrooms.

Charlie quickly pulls out his phone once your back was to them and calls Aryan. He was with Leah and Walker across the mall, where he and Leah had sneakily set Walker up to get you a little gift. The teens converse quietly and privately, not wanting their victims to hear.

"Yeah, he's inside with Leah, where's Y/n?"

"Restroom" Jordan answers, as they'd FaceTimed him. She pushes her dark hair away from her face as she speaks.

"Okay, where are you guys going next? We're going to Barnes and Noble back near you guys, on the top floor." Aryan informs

"Alright, we'll go fix my phone plan really quick and head over" Jordan nods, looking at Charlie for approval.

He nods as well, and quickly whispers bye as he hangs up. You walk back toward them with a light smile, asking where you were going next.

"We're gonna fuck around with my phone bill, and-"

"-Meet them at the food court!" Charlie finishes, trying to keep you and Walker apart for a moment. He sends a glance to Jordan, who pulls out her phone.

"Oh, okay" You shrug.

After joining Jordan to be a Karen to get her phone bill fixed, you three head up to the food court to meet up with Walker, Leah, and Aryan. As you sit down with them, they all make excuses to leave or go to different spots to get food. That leaves you and Walker at the table alone, both of you unable to start conversation.

You'd just eaten the biggest pretzel of your life, and it turns out he had a milkshake not too long ago. You both nervously smile at each other, biting your nails and fidgeting your fingers a bit. Aryan and Charlie watch from the Noodles and Company line, trying to see if you'd hand over your gifts for each other.

Right on queue, you decide to just give Walker the CD you'd gotten for him, not wanting to miss the sort-of-private opportunity to give it to him. You pull it out of the plastic bag that rests on the floor next to your feet. You hand it to him over the table, awaiting his reaction.

He quickly smiles and looks up at you. "Is that for me?"

"Duh"

He graciously accepts the gift, looking at it front and back over and over again. "How did you know I liked David Bowie?"

You shrug with a smug smile. "One, everyone likes Bowie, two, I know more about you than you think"

He playfully and lightly scoffs with a smile. "Thank you. Actually! That reminds me, I got you something too"

He reaches into the bag that sat next to him, and pulls out a few candy bars and bags, and slides them over the table for you. One of those is a lollipop shaped like a rose.

You smile and give him a warm thank you, laying your eyes on the Twizzlers for the most part.

"Y'know, I have a feeling I'm gonna like Conan Gray in the car"

"Oh, you will, trust me"

In the distance, Aryan and Charlie share looks.

"They're so head over heels for each other" Charlie sighs, "Can they just kiss already?"

Aryan nods, "We need to really push them together"

"How?"

"We'll ask Jordy and Leah"

"Sounds like a plan"

You and Walker sit side by side, smiles on your faces as you rest on the ledge of the fountain. You look back at all the silver and copper coins in the water, shimmering under the rippling water.

"And the whole thing exploded all over me! It was the dumbest thing ever"

You chuckle, listening to Walker talk about some science project exploding all over him in seventh grade.

"Y'know, you're like, really cool" He smiles, nervously glancing at Aryan.

You feel a smile tugging at your lips, "Oh, uhm, thank you. You're cool too, dude" You lightly punch his shoulder.

"No, like, cool cool" He clarifies.

You look over at your four friends, all wearing sunglasses, acting like they weren't spying on your conversation, on their phones or looking away nervously.

"Is this some kind of setup?"

"No!" He quickly replies, "I just, like, think you're really cool" He says, feeling too nervous to go out and ask the question or confess his feelings.

Leah groans and stands up, Aryan at her side.

"Just kiss already!" She says, throwing her hands in the air, "This show is too slow!"

"Kiss!" Aryan cheers, "Please! Do it already! It hurts to watch this anymore"

You look back at Walker, cheeks and ears as red as a stop sign.

Walker shrugs with a nervous look, which you share with him.

"Okay, well, I'm not kissing you on the ledge of a mall fountain"

"Yeah, I get that one"

#lowkeyrobin #gender neutral reader #gn reader #they/them reader #walker scobell x reader #walker scobell x gn reader #percy jackson and the olympians x reader #percy jackson x reader #walker scobell

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theoi-crow · 1 year ago

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The humans in Greek Mythology are the mega rich and powerful:

In my college classes people are often shocked when I tell them my favorite part of Greek mythology is the gods themselves and I'm not a big fan of the humans.

99% of my classmates prefer the humans in mythos, especially the ones that stick it to the gods like Sisyphus and feel bad for humans like Kassandra and Helen who have been wronged by the gods because "they're just like us." My classmates and teachers hate the gods and don't understand why anyone in modern times would want to worship such violent and selfish beings whenever I point out there are still people who worship them. They hold onto the idea that people in mythology embody the human experience of being oppressed by terrible gods and fate and we should feel bad for them because "they're human just like us" but they forget that the people in Greek Mythology are NOT just like us. They are more relatable to medieval royalty, colonizers and ultra rich politicians who make laws and decisions on wars and the fates of others, especially the poor and the very vulnerable.

Every hero or important human in Greek Mythology is either some form of royalty or mega rich politician/priest-priestess (of course this is with the exception of people who are explicitly stated to be poor like the old married couple in the myth where Zeus and Hermes pretend to be panhandlers). All of them have an ancient Greek lifestyle more relatable to Vladimir Putin, Donald Trump, and especially to British royalty during the British empire, than the average person.

All of them.

Odysseus, Patroclus, Theseus, Helen of Troy, Kassandra, Diomedes, Agamemnon, Perseus, Hercules, Aeneas, Paris, Any human who has a divine parent or is related to one, etc. Although sometimes the story omits it, it is heavily implied that these are people who own hundreds or even thousands of slaves, very poor farmers and the tiny barely there working class as royal subjects.

They are the ones who make laws and whose decisions massively affect the fates of so many people. So no, they can't just be forgiven for some little whim, because that little whim affects the literal lives of everyone under their rule. By being spoiled they've just risked the lives of thousands of people and possibly even gotten them killed like when Odysseus' audacity got every single slave and soldier in his ships killed or when Patroclus as a kid got upset and killed another kid for beating him at a game. (A normal person wouldn't kill another person just for winning a game but royalty and those who think they're above the law do it all the time, plus the class status of the child wasn't mentioned but the way he didn't think he'd get in trouble implies the kid was of lower class, possibly the child of a slave or a foreign merchant.)

The gods get a bad reputation for punishing the humans in mythology but, if not them, who else is going to keep them accountable when they are the law?

And whose to say the humans beneath them weren't praying to the gods in order to keep their masters in check?

Apollo is the god in charge of freeing slaves, Zeus is the god of refugees, immigrants and homeless people, Ares is the protector of women, Artemis protects children, Aphrodite is the goddess of the LGBT community, Hephaestus takes care of the disabled, etc. It wouldn't be surprising if the gods are punishing the ultra rich and powerful in these myths because the humans under their rulership prayed and sent them as they did historically.

Every time someone asks me if I feel bad for a human character in a myth, I think about the many lives affected by the decision that one human character made and if I'm being completely honest, I too would pray to the gods and ask them to please punish them so they can make more careful decisions in the future because:

They are not just like us.

We are the farmers, a lot of our ancestors were slaves, we are the vulnerable being eaten by capitalism and destroyed by the violence colonialism created. We are the poor subjects that can only pray and hope the gods will come and correct whatever selfish behavior the royal house and mega rich politicians are doing above us.

And that's why I pray to the gods, because in modern times I'm dealing with modern Agamemnons who would kill whatever family members they have to in order to reach their end goal, I'm dealing with everyday modern Achilles who would rather see their own side die because they couldn't keep their favorite toy and would gladly watch their subjects die if it means they eventually get their way. The ones that let capitalism eat their country and it's citizens alive so long as it makes them more money. These are our modern "demigods," politicians who swear they are so close to God that they know what he wants and so they pass laws that benefit only them and claim these laws are ordained by God due to their close connection just like how Achilles can speak to the gods because of his demigod status via his mother.

Look at the news, these are humans that would be mythical characters getting punished by Greek gods which is why anything Greco-Roman is jealousy guarded by the rich and powerful and is inaccessible to modern worshippers because Ivy League schools like Harvard and Cambridge make sure to keep it that way. That's what we're dealing with. These are the humans these mythical beings would be because:

In our modern times the humans in mythos would be the politicians and mega rich that are currently ruining our society and trying to turn it into a world where only the rich can manipulate wars and laws, just like they do in mythology.

Fuck them.

I literally have so much more to add about my disdain for them and I didn't even touch on the obvious ancient Greek propaganda.

#greek gods #Greek mythology #hellenic polytheism #helpol #mythology #ancient greek tragedy

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power-handmaiden · 4 months ago

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Day 302: Eaten Right By The Physical Manifestation Of My Pride And Excitement That The Lead Character Of My First Traditionally Published Horror Novel Is On The Autism Spectrum Just Like Me

First off, this is another tingler I can link you to! I wouldn't call it a "free" tingler like some others because Dr. Tingle is asking for a donation to the Autistic Self Advocacy Network on this one. (They're a great organization that does great work, you should follow the donation link if you're able!)

I want to first mention something Dr. Tingle says in his notes on this one, not something in the tingler itself: "most of the characters i write are probably a little on the spectrum because they are comin from inside chucks head." So... having read almost every tingler up to the beginning of 2023 now, this is something I've thought about a lot but only remarked upon a couple times. It's something that becomes even clearer to me when we get an explicitly autistic tingler protagonist because, in the context of tinglers, she fits right in. She's a very normal protagonist. That isn't the vibe of most autistic characters in most media, but in the Tingleverse, she's your regular relatable main character. Simply seeing how much she fits in reminds me just how neurodivergent the beautiful Tingleverse is.

(Maybe a neurotypical reader would find other tingler characters' autistic traits easier to see on their own, not by comparison like this, and also worth mentioning more often? I don't know. I don't know if there are even any neurotypical people out there reading this many tinglers. Don't ask me, I'm the guy who delights in updating their tingler spreadsheet.)

Anyway, it really complements the message of this tingler, the way the protagonist feels so right as a part of the Tingleverse. It's natural that she feels proud, despite all the anxieties she has over the publication of her novel. I'm glad Dr. Tingle captured this joyous moment, in this story that also makes readers who relate feel like we're taking part in the celebration, too.

#chuck tingle #2024 tingles my butt

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darqx · 10 months ago

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Snakes on a post

Another particularly long answer dump since i, once again, have a backlog of things to potentially answer |D

❗️For commonly asked qs please see my BTD FAQ

Got jumpscared with my own old art for a hot minute there LAUGHS.

(For those wondering, the naga doodle from here was attached to the ask)

That is every other Royal that exists in the Nether and also at least some of the demons that challenged him for his Royal title lol.

Believe me, no one was or is more surprised then me XD;

So, the thing about where Rire's ichor manifests is that it kinda exists and doesn't exist at the same time. Meaning that his upper back is where the manifestation point is anchored, BUT it can still manifest with a bit of space in between it and his back hence why it will manifest over his clothes and not through them.

So if you touch where the manifestation point is sans the ichor, than you are just straight up touching his back. With the ichor, he still gets sensory input from the tentacles to his back but it's a lot more soft and muted esp the further away it gets from him. As you've seen implied though, he would feel a very sharp pain if a great deal of damage was done to the ichor where it clusters at the manifestation point, since he'd DEF be feeling that straight in his back lol.

He is definitely a top and the only way he would bottom for anybody is if they somehow forced him to.

Ah i knew i'd answered this a long time ago [finally found it]! Holy crosses (those that have been blessed) can also burn him but they would need to be in contact with him the entire time. Being a Royal he also has more of a tolerance to these than normal demons.

Well, unless said person actually has the undeniable ability to make good on their words, Rire would just stand there rather genially with that little smile he sometimes has and let them finish.

And then he might use them as reverse suggestions for dealing with said person (why would you give him any ideas!!?)

both

In BTD canon it is quite possible that they actually haven't in person. But we are using creative license here haha.

Rire heals a lot faster than a human. Cain is not my character so I don't know how his stacks up.

I've grouped these asks cos they kind of have similar answers - 360° (jk sorry sorry to the second q that is just a very common spelling mistake and I couldn't resist XD; )

Now, even though we mashed all the characs together in BTD, they all actually come from different storylines and so their canons outside the "BTD canon" may differ. This tends to bleed in. With this in mind:

The rules of Rire's canon (eg the concept of Battle Royales and how to become a Royal) don't apply to Cain. Anyway, they don't live in the same place either.

Cain is canonically the oldest and most OP character in BTD lol so yes he is stronger than Rire - you might've noticed, but Rire is never in the same drawing as Cain voluntarily. I play with this along with the "natural weakness" aspect - which I've also referred to as scissors-paper-rock rules XD Basically; demons beat humans, angels beat demons (purely because demons have weakness against holiness).

It would (be insane) but I hope you are not looking at me to fulfil this :d

Not really

His coronation day is a public holiday in his sector so yes XD

Aww thank you very much for your interest! ≧(´▽｀)≦ It's really cool that some of you guys want to actually fund such a thing - I'd have thought you'd have enough of him killing you in BTD1 XD Unfortunately, I have no plans for a Rire game at the moment as I'm working on a webcomic which looks like it will take up all my free time (that being said, he will be in the webcomic at some point).

Nope! Although i can kinda see why you might think that lol.

Whatever that one is where he doesn't particularly care what someone else identifies as. It really makes no difference to him or how he will act.

There are viruses in the Nether that if contracted could potentially kill you, yes. Part of being a Royal is becoming a lot more robust than normal Demons though. As for if/when Rire dies, I dunno maybe either in a Battle Royale somewhere thousands of years down the line or by old age (which is rare for a Royal but not impossible if you play your cards right).

If you are asking if he has a heat/rut of some sort, he does not |D

#boyfriend to death #art #rire answer dump #answer dump #doodle #long post #decided to actually redesign what a naga rire would viably look like since the old design was bad XD

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fxtalitygod · 3 months ago

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EPILOGUE. ~Survival~

Genre: Historical AU, angst, mature, suggestive, arranged-marriage

Warnings: Dark themes, gore, graphic imagery, theme/depictions of horror, body horror, swearing/language, suggestive, pregnancy mentions, mentions and acts of suicide, arguments, mentions of adult murder, Pet name (Little Flower 1-2x) implied Stockholm Syndrome, grief imagery, images/depictions of dead bodies, murder, character death(s), slight misogynistic themes (if you squint), implied incest mentions

Word Count: 5.9k

A/N: Today marks the day I finish this series. Guys, I cannot believe it took me two years to finish this damned series. Do not get me wrong, I loved writing it, but boy, it was a major pain in my ass. As corny as it sounds, thank you all for sticking with me throughout this series. When I originally posted the first chapter, I did not expect ANY attention whatsoever; it was just a self-indulgent thing I wanted to write because I wanted a better representation of (Y/n) where, yeah, she may not be the strongest. However, she still knows how to make do with what she has and make that her strength. I also wanted to give a more realistic relationship with the pairing. As much as I love Sukuna's character, I did not believe him to be a character capable of "true love" but a character that values others but not in the way you might think. I'm talking literal value, currency value, and benefit value. I wanted a more realistic take on the story because I did not know how many more historical "Kuna," "Suku," or "Kunie" stories I could take. No hate for those who write it or those who enjoy it; it just isn't my personal cup of tea. I like true crime and dark stories (I have this serial killer project that I'm stoked about because I know I will get my group an A+), so I tend to enjoy those darker sides, which I believe is why I like Sukuna's character so much, he just feeds into that side of me. There are some of the fantasies I enjoy where Sukuna is non-canon, such as AUs and all that, but when it comes to JJK's storyline or his historical AUs, I tend to fall short of enjoyment of that type of fantasy.

Anywho, thank you all for sticking around and enjoy the epilogue. I hope it was worth the wait. I may or may not have written three times because my perfectionism kicked in every time I proofread it, and I found something I did not like and scraped half the chapter. I bet I'll find a little thing here and there when I post this. Still, it won't be anything noticeable, something along the lines of my tags and probably my TW, though Im usually very on point with those kinds of things. Still, it always seems that AFTER I make the post, I really start to notice things even after proofreading it 50x.

P.S. I plan to do a behind-the-scenes post on all my original ideas. I have worked on this little project for two years, so you bet I had alternatives. Feel free to send me asks or messages asking me about things you are curious about, and I will gladly answer.

JJK Mlist•Taglist Rules• • Pt.I • Pt. II • Pt. III • Pt. IV • Pt. V • Pt. VI • Pt.VII • Pt. VIII • Pt. IX • Pt. X • Epilogue

The market was bustling at this time of day. Workers were heading home from a hard day of work, rushing through the roads as they grabbed ingredients and materials for their households to prepare their meals and homes; everything was so normal...and if she were being honest, it felt strange. The confined life of the temple had practically become a comfort, so when presented with a slice of normalcy, it was foreign and, if she were being honest, alarming as well.

Having so much freedom was intimidating and overwhelming– the fear of having something good and it being taken away was a looming thought that brought many anxieties.

Years have passed since that fated day, Sukuna Ryomen's downfall. Since the fire and the slaughter that had immersed, Sukuna's actions had remained silent. There were whispers of sightings and rumors that the curse user had met his demise, but she knew better. Sukuna Ryomen was unkillable, and if anybody had truly caught a glance of him, they would be dead before they could live and tell the tale.

"Mama."

The world seemed to stop as the word processed through her head. Blood ran cold, and breaths of air seemed to come in at a faster rate. The woman turned to the little girl holding her hand, causing her heart to shatter.

"Darling, I told you not to refer to me as your mother, remember?"

The question remained as a statement rather than an inquiry as if refamiliarizing the child with a rule she had been reacquainted with on multiple occasions.

"I-I know that, but why can I not? You care for me like a mother, so why can I not call you my mother?'

"We have discussed this before, child," the woman sighed, "I believe it unfair to be taking the title of your actual mother."

"Well, if my real mother had not given me away, it would not be like this..."

Pausing mid-step, the caretaker held her breath, controlling the emotions and memories that flashed through her mind. The girl's sentence rang through her head, eliciting a feeling she was not commonly met with... aggravation. With no hesitance, the woman's minimal steps turned into longer strides, her grip even firmer on the young girl's hand. Getting to their place of lodging was more vital than anything, as she wanted to avoid discussing such sensitive matters in a public setting. Prying ears were close enough in such a crowded setting.

Upon reaching the home, the stand-in mother pulled the child inside before shutting the door. She swiftly bent down to the young one's level and took the child's shoulders into her hands. The little girl was shocked by the woman's reaction, staying silent and still as if afraid of what was to come next.

"Child, I will not hear you speak such false claims of your mother. You do not know the sacrifices she made to get you here."

The girl's expression of fear shifted from dread to shame. Her face was red from embarrassment after she was caught for her prior statement. However, as children do, she made it her goal to justify herself.

"What is the point of her sacrifice if she left me. Did she not want to be around me?"

"She did not leave you; if she were still in this world, trust me, she would be right here with you!"

The caregiver's words came out with little thought; all she knew was that she would not tolerate the little girl's false assumptions. However, now that the words spilled out of her mouth, she began to regret them. Seeing the tears well up in the girl's eyes made her wish she had phrased it differently.

"What do you mean?"

The caretaker cursed under her breath before inhaling through her nose, exhaling softly before speaking.

"You deserve the truth, my dear, and the truth is that your mother sacrificed her life to ensure you had a good one. She loved you so much that she valued your life more than hers. You might not understand this now, but that is a mother's love." The woman's breath stuttered, "She loved you more than you could ever know. I will not claim the title as your mother for that reason."

The girl was overwhelmed with emotion, only knowing how to express it through tears. The woman could not bear it and brought the girl close to her chest, embracing her to give any form of comfort that might help– it broke her heart to hear the child's quiet sobs.

After calming down, the kid spoke, though with some light chokes.

"W-what s-should I call you then?"

The warden took a sigh as she thought over her charges question. In all honesty, she had no idea what to say. What answer could she even give her? She could not allow her real name to float between the child's tongue as it would expose her identity. What name could she let the child speak?

"Hmm," the woman loosened her embrace, looking the little girl in the eye with a soft smile, "What do you think you should call me?"

The girl tilted her head, wanting more elaboration.

The lady chuckled softly, "What do you think my name should be, child?"

The caregiver had expected the girl to take some time to come up with an answer; however, the kid took no hesitation when she blurted out...

"Makato-san!"

Silenced engulfed the home as her caregiver failed to respond.

"Makato-san, I'm going to the market. Do you need anything?"

Another prolonged stillness as the young lady waited for a response.

The girl scrunched her brows in concern, extending her neck to look further into the room as if the individual she was looking for would appear. With the growing silence, the young adult searched the home for her guardian.

"Makato-san?"

She searched and examined the silent home with slight panic before finally stumbling upon the older woman, staring blankly at the floor she was kneeling on– unresponsive as she continued to stare.

With caution, Y/n's daughter reached her hand out to her caregiver's, placing it on the woman's shoulder. The response she got was one she had not expected.

The Makato turned suddenly, grabbing onto the young woman's wrist with an ungodly strength that even the girl was unaware of. This caused the girl to wince in pain as she tried to pull her arm away. Her arm was turning a light purple from the lack of circulation, proving the grip's vice.

Despite her fear, the charge could only feel concerned as her caregiver made eye contact, tears welling up in her eyes. It stayed like that for a couple more seconds before she snapped back into reality, gasping as she was presented with the image of her actions, quickly letting go of the young lady's arm.

"I'm so sorry, my Dear. I did not mean to...I was just..." The woman paused, swallowing her following words; however, her stutter did not disappear: "D-D-Did you need something, m-my, Dear?"

"I was preparing to leave and was going to ask if you needed anything from that market," the girl paused, choosing her next words carefully. Makato-san, you've been acting strange as of late. Is everything alright?"

The young woman was old enough to recognize the hesitance in her caretaker's features and the short lack of response.

"Whatever do you mean, Darling?"

"Please do not take me a fool," the youthful female voiced before sighing and looking at Makato in pity, "I'm worried for you, Makato-san. Ever since the refugees from the other village came, you have been behaving irregularly."

The refugees.

To say that their arrival was a shock was an understatement. At first, Makato thought nothing of it until the newcomers began to tell their stories. Their village was burned in a monstrous fire by a "crazed" sorcerer, and their home was now unsustainable to live in as it was left entirely in shambles. Despite this information, Makato thought little of it as there had been few stories of criminal sorcerers destroying homes, most being "inspired" by Sukuna's actions after his sudden hiatus. It was not until an elderly woman, who she happened to hear at random, described the appearance of the sorcerer.

"He was monstrous, the vile thing; he had four arms and two faces if you do not count that horrid mouth on his stomach. I watched both of them grin as it chewed on the remains of my eldest son." the elder choked and sobbed as the memory came back to taunt her.

Makato's heart dropped to her stomach. Rushing home in search of her charge, she found the girl working on her studies. Seeing the child she worked so hard to raise brought relief, but it was not long before the memories and visions began to haunt her. Sometimes, she would see you standing there, looking down at her, motionless and silent, with a pained, pitful look.

She hated it.

When you looked at her that way, she felt weak and vulnerable—as if she were failing. She was not as cool and calculating as you were, nor as confident or intimidating. Had you been here, you would have more than likely been able to disappear from society and find a nice, quiet life for yourself and your daughter. But you were not here; that was the problem– you were just a figment of her imagination.

Even then, she wanted you to stop looking at her that way.

Sometimes, she was left in her privacy and saw your vision appear to accompany her. It would drive her mad as she tried to convince you, even herself, that she was doing enough. She would speak into the silence of the room and get no response.

"What else could you want with me? I am doing everything I can!"

Silence.

"I am happy. She is happy. We are happy. Is that not enough for you?"

Silence.

"He thinks she is dead– he thinks I am dead! There is no possible way that..."

Silence.

"Please, stop looking at me that way. I am capable of doing this...please have faith in me."

"Makato-san?"

Pulling herself from her thoughts, Makato tracked what the girl had said earlier, not wanting to worry about her charge further.

"I apologize for my irregular behavior, my Dear. I can assure you that I am alright. I have had a lot of stress these days regarding the refugees. I want to do my part to assist them, but I have been running myself ragged and am just...tired."

The girl hesitated, not wanting to accept her caretaker's excuse, but she knew pushing the subject would not do her any good, so she nodded in understanding. The worst part is that Makato knew your daughter was aware of her white lie, but she would not admit it for some slim hope that the girl honestly did not know. Sometimes, she wished your daughter had not inherited your intelligence and perception.

"Do you need anything from the market, Makato-san? I plan on leaving soon to aid the refugees."

"No, I believe we have enough supplied for quite a while. All that I ask of you is to be safe, Darling."

Your daughter agreed, letting a soft smile slip onto her face before hugging Makato. The woman accepted the embrace before experiencing a wave of realization. Intelligence and perception were not the only things she inherited from you; she happened to be a real beauty as well.

"My Dear, if you plan on seeing that boy of yours, speak your peace now and know that I only want you to be safe and happy."

The girl struggled to find words before lowering her head in embarrassment, her face bright red with fluster.

"You are of age now, and I want you to know the responsibilities that rest on your shoulders."

"Makato-san, I never meant to keep it a secret. I just...I was afraid of your disapproval."

The more experienced woman could understand where she was coming from. Long ago, she was in the girl's position. However, she was never allowed to pursue her love due to the circumstances of her arrangement, but that does not mean she did not try. Despite her efforts to keep her relationship together, it was all for not in the end. She was given away as a sacrificial lamb to a monster.

Your daughter had a chance of love, and the caregiver would not squander it for her. She wanted your daughter to have a chance at a relationship she never had. Maybe it was questionable on her part due to the circumstances of her mission, but she did not entirely care. She just wanted your daughter to have a normal life.

She knew that was what you had wanted for your child.

"I do not disapprove, Darling. I just want you to be happy and to be careful."

"I promise that I will Makato-san."

There was a pause of awkward silence before the young woman embraced Makato once more.

"Thank you, I'll be back soon."

Makato smiled as she watched her ward leave the home. She had no problem admitting she was happy for the girl, but something deep within her told her it was a bad idea. It was hard for her to come to terms with, but she had an itching feeling that did not settle with her.

The world was perfect at the moment. Your daughter had put smiles on faces from her charity and was now being rewarded with a proposal for her marriage. She hugged her lover, showing her love and adoration in any way appropriate for their stage in relationship. If you were here, you would be beaming with joy, giving consent to the marriage with no hesitation because this is all you could ever want for your girl, and it would have been all you wanted for your twins.

You never had a chance of love and a happy life; seeing your children be able to pursue their lives to the fullest, especially in romantics, would have been considered a blessing to you.

"This is the happiest day of my life, honestly, but have you received my guardian's blessing?"

The young man chuckled, caressing her cheek reassuringly, "I plan on coming over for dinner tonight to ask for your hand properly if you will have me."

The girl could only agree eagerly through her expressions, unable to speak in fear of shouting instead of politely inviting him. Hugging him one last time before parting to rush home and prepare their meal; however, a chill went up her spine the moment she left; everything felt cold, and she could not explain why. Maybe it was the lack of his embrace, but she had never felt that way. There was only one good reason she could name.

Her nerves were getting the best of her...

"What if Makato-san declines."

The young woman's moods changed throughout the day as she prepared for the most significant evening of her life. One moment, she had the goofiest, filled with overwhelming joy, but there were other times when she would find herself chewing her nails from anxiety, and right now, she was having one of those times.

"Dear, stop that. This behavior is far from healthy. What has you behaving this way?"

"Nothing, everything is fine. I suppose I'm just hoping dinner will turn out acceptable tonight."

"Dear, please do not insult my intelligence with these excuses. What is going on that you are not telling me?"

"Well, I—" there was a pause. How was the ward supposed to say anything without giving anything away?

"You what? Spit it out, child, you are worrying me."

"I cannot say. I am sorry. But do not worry, please; something good is about to happen. Please trust me on this."

Makato chewed the inside of her cheek. She did trust her ward, but she had this gut feeling, this sickening feeling that she could not name. Maybe it was just her nerves getting the best of her, so she pushed it aside. She trusted your daughter, the only trustworthy person that Makato knew.

"Alright... is there anything you need help with?

The younger one smiled sweetly, taking her caretaker's hands in her own.

"No, I have it handled. You have been so stressed the past few days that you should just relax. Tonight, all your worries will be washed away." With that, she parted to continue her work for the big news. She was all but too excited.

She was also naive.

She was a sweet little girl, but she was naive. To think all of Makato's worries and problems would go away by simply relaxing, through sweet and simple gestures, was an innocent way to think. It was how Makato raised that girl because she wanted that sweet little girl to have that luxury. There were times she wondered if she had made the right choice, but then she would remember what pain looked like and what too much experience could do to a person.

No, she made the right decision. This is what you would have wanted.

Right?

Yes.

Makato went, and she sat as the young woman finished her final preparations for the meal. The girl looked more stressed than ever, rushing at the final threshold, but it seemed that preparations were finished and she was filling time. She found little things to do that held no significance. She was in her head, making Makato question if everything was truly fine.

Then, the footsteps could be heard. He was here, and everything was going to change. Life was going to change, and it was between her and that door. The biggest day of her life was only a dinner conversation away. So she opened the door and was presented with an image she thought she would never see or experience.

"We must leave. The village is under attack, and we do not have much time."

The smell of smoke was strong, and embers could be seen from a not-to0-far distance. The world came crashing down, and she could not say a thing. She could only stand there with an oblivious smile.

"What?"

Fear, confusion, anger, any negative emotion she could feel, she was feeling. This was not how it was supposed to go. She was supposed to get a blessing and marry the man of her dreams. Why now? Why this? This could not be real, there was no way.

If the world had crashed down for your daughter, the heavens collided into the earth, dissipating everything in its path in Makato's eyes. The older woman stood, no thoughts running in her head as she strided to the boy, grabbing him by his garments

"You tell me now, and you tell me true, boy! What did you see?!"

Her sudden actions left him too stunned to speak, but after some shaking and calling for his attention, he found himself capable of a response.

"Makato-san, what is happening?" It was like everything hit her at once, but she was still trying to understand why it was happening today– why it was happening now at the most crucial moment of her life.

"I do not know what it was, but it was a man of stature. He was disfigured; he had two faces and four arms. He came without warning, started flames, and began a massacre. His face was cold, as if he felt absolutely nothing."

There was no doubt in her mind that it was him, no doubt her former husband as reigning terror; however, based on the emotionless state of his ambush, bloodshed was beginning to lose its flavor. It was comical, but as much as it had some humor, this was no joke. This was all too real.

Makato grabbed your daughter's shoulder, pulling her out of her shock. Tears were in her eyes, looking at her caretaker pitifully.

"Makato-san, what is happening?"

She was naive, and being naive was safe, but being naive was also unrealistic. Makato gave the girl a sheltered life, eliminating the possibility of danger to the girl. That was no way to live.

"Your father, that is what is happening."

"What?"

And the shock returned. Makato made an effort to avoid mentioning Sukuna in conversation, only mentioning you in light memory. As far as your daughter was concerned, her father did not exist...until now.

"That so-called man is your father, Ryomen Sukuna. That is the man who drove your mother to eventually kill herself," A pause, licking her lip as she readied herself to elaborate, "Your mother sacrificed herself to protect you from him. He drained the life from her and left her no choice but to die, but she gave it purpose. She died to give you a life, a life away from him."

"I-" Your daughter was at a loss for words. Everything was hitting her too fast.

"I thought I was doing the right thing by keeping it from you. I wanted you to have an everyday life, but I should have noticed sooner or later that the truth would reveal itself and that he would present himself one day."

There was nothing to say, only to exchange expressions of fear and dismay.

"W-Well, what do we do now?"

"We run."

Taking the two charges, Makato grabbed whatever necessities they needed to start a new life. She had been planning this since the day she ran from the temple. She would admit that now, with a third party, it would be more complicated than she had intended, but they would make do.

They exited the home frantic. The smell of smoke became more potent, and the embers were closer than before. The flames became more evident as they spread. Any entrance to the main road would have been a route to death, but Makato had never planned to use that path. There was a back trail through the woods, one she had discovered when your little girl was merely five years of age.

They ran towards the thicket, avoiding as many obstacles as possible. Things were looking smooth, with hardly any disruptions. It was almost serene, but that was the issue. To have such tranquility was a nauseating notion for mayhem being at their backs.

It was too quiet to be safe.

And that is when she knew to push the girl and her lover aside, veiling their presence with her technique before everything went black.

Ringing...

And more ringing...

The lights were brighter, and the smoke and ash came straight from the source. She woke up coughing and gasping for air. For a moment, she thought she had been dreaming, immersed in a life that was not hers. Maybe she was waking up, back to her village, back to her parents, back to the life before she got caught in that awful nightmare.

"I am surprised that it was you, of all the women she let live." Sukuna started, looking down at what he believed to be the scum of the earth.

No, it was all too real. His voice registered through her head instantly despite not hearing it in years– at least in person. She had repeated memories, but sometimes she wondered if she had deformed his voice from years of not hearing him speak down on her. Turns out she remembered it accurately. It still managed to send chills down her spine and make her wish to be six feet under the ground.

"I was probably too forgettable for her to ever really care about whether I lived or died." Makato spat.

"That is reasonable enough, but that would not serve her memory well and rather insult her intelligence. I will say that, if anything, my Little Flower was too clever to let such technicality slip from her. She probably pitied you and your fruitless womb, so she gifted you with a child for you to care for in her absence. And knowing your broken state, she probably knew you would be eager at the opportunity."

Makato scowled, turning her gaze to the ground. How dare he speak of you in such a way. He said that as if you were on his level, as devious and conniving as he was, and claimed your actions were selfish when they were the opposite. You did this for her daughter, not for yourself. If you had it your way, you would be there.

"How old is she now?"

She refused to answer, turning her gaze back to the dirt. She did not want to give him the satisfaction of belittling her more than he already had. It was humiliating, but she still had some dignity and a promise she wished to uphold.

"What does it matter? She is dead. (Y/n) told you herself that she was gone."

A sharp pain was felt at the back of her head as he pulled her hair to force the woman to look up at him.

"Do not picture me a fool! For a woman whose last words claimed her daughter was gone, she left me the most humorous smile. I know that age of the girl, but I would rather hear from you, bitch, how long you have been holding her captive."

No response.

"Answer me!" Sukuna snarled, pulling at her scalp once more.

"Nineteen years of age," Makato smiled. Why? Do you wish to act as a father now? Well, you are too LATE! While you were out throwing tantrums, I raised her child, which you would not know how to do without being given exact handwritten instructions."

"On the contrary, you let her potential slip, and now she is nothing but another womb to breed. Unfortunate, due to the heritage of her mother and myself. However, a womb is still useful regardless."

Out of anything Sukuna had done, out of anything he had said to threaten her, that was the most horrifying.

"You are a disgusting bastard."

"Do not speak as if you can fill her shoes as if you have her confidence. You would not be in this position if you were half the woman she was."

"You are right; if I were half the woman she was, I could have easily manipulated you and have you play the role of the arrogant man with an ego so big, he does not notice the knife pointing at his back," A pause as she licked her lips, swallowing to try and quench her dry throat, "Everything that woman did was out of fear, much like everyone else; however, she knew how to tick your interest and she used that to her advantage. Honestly, I am ashamed. I only noticed it when she told me about her plan."

A twitch in his eye, he was irritated. It was known through body language and the knowledge of his nature that he wanted to tear Makato apart, limb from limb, until her body was unrecognizable.

"What? Afraid to face the truth of her decision. She could have run away with ease; she could have killed you, but both of those options would have been considered a mercy for you. She took away the one thing that you valued: herself. That must eat at you a lot."

With a swift motion, he scooped the former wife from her neck, squeezing her throat as he raised her to face him eye-to-eye.

"You are a worthless bitch who cannot even reproduce, summing you up to nothing. What is your worth?"

Nothing but the struggling breaths of the woman attempting to pry herself from this monster's grip.

"Exactly, you are worth nothing."

Darkness, wherever they were, was dark. The girl and her lover were still in the woods, alive as well as they could manage. She could only remember running into this place before being shoved into the dark area. She felt the ground around her and reached her arms out into the pitch black as she tried to navigate this strange place. It scared her.

"Makato-san? Where are you?"

No response, only silence.

It was dark and frightening, and she did not know what to do. What could she do? She could cry, so she did; she cried as she tried to find her way back. This had to be some kind of night terror. She would wake up, and she would be at that doorway, welcoming her lover into their home, eating their meal, and then sharing the news. Her lover would get her caretaker's blessing, get married, and live happily ever after, right?

Dreadfully wrong.

Instead, a hand reached out and pulled her out of the darkness. The world was still unlit, but moonlight and the flames dancing in the distance could be seen nearby; however, she was not a part of the conflict.

She was about to scream, cry for help, anything to get attention drawn to her location, but was stopped by a large palm to the mouth.

"Shhh, my love. It is only me. It will be alright."

For the first time that night, she felt genuine relief. Turning her head to see her man, she looked down at her disheveled features. She weakly smiled, moving herself to embrace him. It all lasted for a few seconds until she realized the missing member of their little group.

"Where is Makato-san?" she whispered.

The man looked down, not daring to respond. She attempted to make eye contact, but he would only look away.

"Where is she?" she insistently asked, but louder.

" I do not know; a couple curse users emerged from the woods. Makato shoved us into the ditch, and when I came out, she was gone."

"Well...Well, we must go look for her."

A grasp to the wrist effectively stopped the girl.

"No, I cannot risk losing you, and I know Makato-san would agree. She would not want you going out to risk your life to save her."

How could he say that? How dare he say that! What right did he have in this decision?

"Then you do not know her." she scowled, trying to withdraw from his hold, but his hand did not budge.

"Then why would she tell you everything had she not already predicted the possibility that she might die."

"Because... because...she needed me to know because if we were going to run away, I would need to put in my own weight by knowing our threat...yes, that was it! Now let me go!" She tried to reason, but not to him—herself.

Denial.

"It was a confession! As if she were lying on her deathbed, she confessed everything to you. She wants you to move on, knowing there are dangers like your father. She wants you to kno-"

"Well, she may not be dead yet, so we have to try!"

With whatever strength she had deep down, she broke free from his grasp, sprinting towards the village and the flame. She could hear him following her, but in her mind, she wanted to believe he was doing it because he could see her reason. He would help; she was sure of it.

She was almost there, and she swore she could see the silhouette of her caretaker, but then she found herself on the ground. It was only for a second before being lifted into the air, a hand covering her mouth as she got further from her destination.

Kicking, muffled screams, and the distant cackling of flames could be heard. She bit her partner’s hand in an attempt that he would let her go from the sudden pain, but he was resistant. He merely grunted and winced while continuing his journey back. But then there was a halt.

There she was, Makato, thrown onto the ground. She could see her in the distance. The woman looked weak but very much alive, and she was right there. The daughter kicked, shoved, jabbed, and bit even more, trying to get loose. However, her lover would not budge because although he could see Makato, he could also see the shadow hovering over the woman, the shadow your daughter was refusing to look at.

Then the shadow disappeared, and the dreadful monster emerged, Sukuna Ryomen, hovering over Makato with disdain. Watching as she tried to crawl away but failed miserably. She was fighting, doing her best, but her fate was inevitable.

Death was the only option, and death is what she got.

Ryomen Sukuna caved into his impulses, ripping her limb from limb until she was unrecognizable. The daughter watched, horrified, as the woman who raised her was mutilated to nothing but a pulp. What sort of sick joke was this? She remained silent as she tried to think of who would pull such a childish trick, watching as the image got smaller until nothing was left. Eventually, it was just a tiny yellow dot in the distance and nothing more; all she could do was look at it.

"Promise me you will live."

Breath in

Breathe out

Breath in

Breathe out

Breath in

Breathe out

Breath in

Breathe out

Breath in

Breathe out

Breath in

Breathe out

Breath in

Breathe o-

"NOOOOOOOOOO!"

The scream echoed through the dark room, and you tried to comprehend where you were. The walls were closing in, and the air was too thick to breathe. It felt like like suffocation.

What was this?

Why now?

Where is this?

Why is this?

How is-

"Y/n!"

You snapped back into reality, frantically looking at your surroundings to notice you were in your bedroom.

"Y/n, what happened? Are you okay?"

The silence was tense as you sat there, trying to remember your nightmare. You thought long and hard, but in the end, you had nothing.

"I...I don't know."

You heard a sigh, a hand rubbing your back, and another reaching for your cheek, wiping the stray tears you were unaware of.

"Do you want me to stay with you tonight, again?"

Some of you wanted to say no, but the opposing side longed for it. You stared at the clock on the wall before you, reading the time. It was a little past midnight, and you had hardly gotten any rest. You had a big day tomorrow, and rest was crucial to get through your day. God knows the things you would do if you did not properly sleep.

Turning to your twin brother, you weakly nodded, "Okay."

He did not hesitate to tuck you under his arm as if in an attempt to protect you from any harm to come your way, to shield you from the nightmares. However, despite his presence, it was like a part of the dream appeared that you remembered but didn't at the same time.

"Do you think I'll be a good mother?"

"Why are you asking me that?"

"Please just answer me...for my sanity."

Your brother sighed, resting his cheek on your head as he rubbed your shoulder to comfort you.

"Y/n, I have no doubt you will make a great mother. Come on, let's go back to sleep. I'll stay here, and everything will be better in the morning."

"Promise me it will be better in the morning."

"What?"

"You don't have to hold up to it. I just...I just want to hear you say it."

"I promise it will be better in the morning."

"Okay..."

New series?? Sequel???Maybe, but first, a little break ☆~ (˃̵ڡ‘˶ )

Taglist (Thank you all so much for being a part of this series):

@littlemochi @mistalli @youngbeansprout @bbylime @bangtan-forever1479 @idktbhloley @izayas-rings @o3o-aya @pyschopotatomeme @persephonehemingway @otomaniac @meforpr3sident

@fourcefulcupid @nezuscribe @my-simp-land @zukuphilia @niya729 @spiritofstatic @bbittersw33t @kashasenpai @decaysan @honeybaegle @ygslvr @outrofenty @esposadomd @ali2426 @anmath @yazzzmints @lovingnahida @sincerest-one @rosemaydone321 @j0dios @k-ki3rd @maki-zenin1944 @shadowywizardarcade @ae-mius @xiangping-28 @loaves4me @aloraaaxcrystalzx @chariotwaves

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