#memories { drabble }

[inazuman]

sae x f!reader x kaiser smut

"she's really vocal, isn't she?"

sae has you pressed down against the bed, fucking into you so hard until kaiser swears the mattress concaves in. you're moaning so loud he's half worried the neighbors might hear.

"if you don't like it, give her back to me." kaiser snaps, leaning down to kiss you softly on the forehead.

you wrap your arms around him, gripping him hard as you whine and come all over sae's cock.

sae pulls out only to bring his mouth between your thighs, lapping up your slick until the numbness becomes overstimulation, until one of your hands comes down to press to his head with a cry.

"don't hurt her." kaiser almost rips you out of sae's grasp, it's a near thing, but sae grabs at you first.

"she likes it." he flips you around so kaiser can see, your back to sae's chest. he slips his fingers inside of you, tapping on your clit all at once. "see? she's dripping all over."

and then a realization passes over sae's face. "you really do like her."

"ha? she's my girlfriend, you dipshit."

"yeah, i know. i just…" lots of people in sae's team have girlfriends, but the way kaiser treats you -- he holds your face carefully as you fall forward towards kaiser, like you might do to a teacup.

"sorry." sae says it with such a strange amount of sincerity that it has kaiser narrowing his eyes. "if i had known, maybe i wouldn't have asked."

kaiser scoffs. "yeah, you would've."

sae huffs a smile. "yeah."

[superbat-love]

Green Lantern: So Spooky, truth or dare..?

Batman: I refuse to play your childish games, Lantern.

Green Lantern: Spoilsport. Fine, I’ll ask someone who actually knows how to have fun. Supes, truth or dare?

Superman: Truth.

Green Lantern: Tell us about your first male crush.

Superman: Wha-? I-I don’t…

Green Lantern: You have to tell the truth, Boy Scout~

Superman: [sighs in defeat] I was a kid.

Green Lantern: Ooooh, was he a celebrity?

Superman: One day, a family from out of town drove by my house, and their big fancy car suddenly broke down. They were stuck there for a while. I saw this boy around my age sitting in the back. He looked pretty lonely, so I invited him to play baseball.

Green Lantern: Did you fall in love with his athleticism?

Superman: Err…he kinda sucked at baseball. So I tried to teach him.

Green Lantern: So he was wowed by your athleticism.

Superman: Not really, he threw me over his shoulder.

Green Lantern: [bursts out laughing] That’s hilarious! Sounds like something you’d do, Spooky!

Batman: …

Superman: We sparred for the entire afternoon and his family stayed for dinner. It was fun. Sadly we never met each other again after that.

Green Lantern: Should have known you’d go for the fiery ones. What do you think he’d say to you if you meet him again? Can you imagine the Superman having a crush on you?

Batman: He’d say you’re an idiot.

Green Lantern: Hey! Nobody asked you, Spooky. Well, what would you say to him if you meet him again, Supes?

Superman: I just hope that he’s happy now, wherever he might be in life.

[manytoonepoet13]

"You may not be my first, you may not be the only one I've shared my past with. But I shall hold onto eternity's vow I saw in your eyes, and hope you'd be my last and forever."

[ayyy-pee]

Center Stage

suguru whimpers as he pounds into you, folds your legs until there’s a knee on each side of your head. you're so good he has to bite back a gasp when your walls squeeze down on him, gripping his cock so fucking hard he sees stars. his eyes roll back when he reaches a hand down to your clit, swollen and sensitive and he feels the sudden gush of your arousal drip down between your bodies. suguru loves how your tight little cunt always takes him so well, how it makes room for him and holds him like it never wants to let go.

every thrust, every roll of his hips, every slap of your skin meeting has suguru leaning down to groan into the crook of your neck. he doesn’t let up, pounding into you like a man possessed. and he is. your pussy makes him insane, makes him want to scream, makes him want to fucking cry.

it feels like heaven in your walls.

suguru loves to look between you, where your bodies connect and see the creamy mess you’ve made on him. fuck he loves how your pussy always makes a mess. it’s one of his favorite things about you.

that and the way your lips part when he pistons his hips a certain way, touches that sweet spot you love. how your head falls back and your back arches when he wraps his thick fingers around your neck, makes you hold his weight as he fucks into you with reckless abandon. the way your little moans fall from that pretty mouth he loves to bury his cock in. he loves all of that.

he loves the way your hands find his hair and you pull. not gentle at all, just the way he likes. you’re as a desperate and fucking needy as he is.

“come on baby. tell me how much you love my cock.” he pleads. he knows you love it. you've told him plenty of times. but suguru also loves to get his ego stroked.

“i love it, ah- fuck, fuck i love your cock!” you whimper beneath him like the good girl you always are. all he ever has to do is ask and you’ll deliver every time. so obedient. it’s why you’re his favorite.

suguru can feel your walls softly convulsing around him. you’re so close. but while your words were good, they’re weren’t good enough. so suguru slows his pace, staring down at you with half lidded eyes. he wants you to do it right.

“pretty girl forgot her manners,” he chides, clicking his tongue. “i love your cock, what?”

he bottoms out with a particularly harsh thrust that has you crying out, your fingers tightening in his tresses and he chuckles, his dick twitching within the confines of your cunt.

“oh fuck! i love your cock master geto”

there it is.

you peer up through your lashes at the man above you and the smug smile on suguru’s lips sends you spiraling over the edge, your orgasm rushing over you, your body shivering as wave after wave hits you. and your sweet lips muttering his formal title, it has him burying his face in your neck again, whining as his hips stutter with every sloppy thrust until his balls tighten.

he grips your thigh hard, high pitched whimpers falling freely from his mouth as his cock stiffens and his hot, white seed fills your twitching pussy. the release has suguru shaking, struggling to hold his weight as your pussy milks him of every fucking drop.

you’re both panting, both catching your breath as suguru kisses you desperately, pressing kisses to your face, to your lips. and he’s still cumming

“m-master geto,” you mutter between kisses. he hasn’t pulled out of you, just keeps rolling his hips into your slowly, softly as he continues to litter your lips and face with kisses.

suguru hums in acknowledgment.

“you’ll be late to session tonight,” you warn him. “you know there will be big donors there. you don’t want to be late.”

ah yes, the work never stops for suguru. he would love to stay here, on the floor of his stage but it wouldn’t be a good look to have his donors and worshippers walk in on you both in the middle of such a salacious act.

and you, his most favorite follower. there's no way in hell allow anyone to leave the room alive if they saw you this way. no, you're meant to be seen by him this way and him alone. even with your current situation, he knows you are loyal to him. so with a hiss, suguru pulls out of you, smirking when he sees the way you pout at the loss of fullness.

cute.

“come and see me after session” he tells you with one last press of his lips to yours. he crawls off of you carefully and fixes his robe. you nod, watching as he exits the room.

he knows where to find you.

suguru always finds you the moment he enters the room, packed with worshippers ready to give themselves to him. and you’re among them, loyal as ever to him, even as you bow politely and pledge yourself to the organization alongside your husband.

[lildoodlenoodle]

Some random Hobie information from the comics! I’ve specified where the movies might come in and fanon stuff!

Hobie, despite having a British/cockney accent in the movie and in the comics, lives in NYC in the comics(movie might b different).

Hobie is a homeless teen(I’m pretty sure his parents died) radicalized by his dystopian world.

He’s been Spiderman for 3 years(movie so most of his comics have probably passed) and his world is a weird combination of 1970s-1990s.

Canonically bad at naming things.

His friends/band are tired of his shit and regularly make fun of him for saving the multiverse.

The cops in Hobie’s world all have the venom symbiote, he uses his guitar to play frequencies that disrupt the symbiotes.

He kills Norman Osborn twice.

Yes he kills cops.

Full name is Hobart.

Originally he hated being called Spider-Punk.

He works with his worlds Daredevil(Mattea Murdock), Captain America(Captain Anarchy), Hulk(Robbie Banner), Ironheart(RiotHeart), Ms. Marvel, etc.

Most people in his ‘band’ can’t actually play lol.

With facism one of his other greatest enemies is capitalism and being ‘marketable’.

Hobie’s design was originally meant to be Spider UK, who later became Billy Braddock.

He also got a symbiote dog called Spider-Mutt in his latest run.

Gwen Stacy was a famous rockstar who died in his world, Hobie was a fan!

He was originally recruited to what I affectionately call the ‘Interdimensional Spider Death Squad’ run by the Superior Spider with Spider Noir (and eventually Miles and Jessica joined right before the teams merged)rather than the other group of spiders.

He was the one that brought Miles back into the ‘spider society’ when the inheritors came back.

In the comics he lives in a Welfare center in Brooklyn he and his friends/band operate, in the movie he lives in a boat!

Hobie has an interdimensional band with Gwen(drums), Pavitr(keyboard), Noir(bass), Anya(1616 vocals), and Ham(air guitar)

I can’t remember Hobie having any romantic interests in his universe, but fanon wise he is often shipped with his canon gay friend, Captain Anarchy aka Karl Morningdew, but Karl does have a canon boyfriend. But outside of his universe there’s a whole host of possible ships and some do include: Hobiemiles / punkflower hobiepav/chaipunk hobiegwen / ghostpunk

[5sospenguinqueen]

Sebastian: You can trust me! Let's not forget who saved you from the Inferni the other week.

MC: Let's not forget who created them in the first place!

[omegaovaries]

prompt: memories | ao3

Ace notices little details of people’s appearances more often than he’d like to admit.

It’s easy on the Grandline – Ace has seen and met and fought more people in a year than he has in his entire childhood on Dawn. There’s all different sorts of people to meet, to avoid, to just be around it almost makes him dizzy.  

It takes a while before he catches onto what he’s doing. 

He stares a little too long at blond men and women, watching the sunlight catch into their hair, watching the moonlight make the strands glitter. He stares at certain shades of blue too long – blue ribbons and waistcoats and denim and eyes. But especially the ocean. He has to shake himself awake from a trance somedays, staring out at the waves that can be so bright they mirror the sky, staring out at indigo waves only illuminated by moonlight.

The Spades noticed after a while and eventually the Whitebeards do too. 

How his eyes would linger on top hats and hair that would curl just so and how sometimes, he would go quiet and watch the waves from the highest point on deck, thumb rubbing across the embroidery of an old but well kept handkerchief. They notice how on certain days Ace is too loud or too quiet, staring out into the ocean at random moments, fingers unconsciously pressed against the ‘S’ in his tattoo. 

When Luffy’s first wanted poster comes out, instead of saying ‘my little brother,’ Ace will sometimes say ‘our little brother.’ 

Before Ace leaves Luffy near Alabasta to continue his hunt for Blackbeard, he tells him, “We’re proud of you,” easy and automatic. Luffy’s quick “I know,” comes out just as easy.

They both freeze for a moment before Luffy smiles at him, wide and sunny. “I know you guys are.”

[whump-in-the-closet]

Haircut

content: forced modification, noncon haircut, creepy and intimate Whumper, I wrote this in a fever dream let me know if I missed any tags

Whumpee sat, slumped, on the stool. Defeated.

The bathroom light glowed faintly, and the blue reflection staring back at them from the mirror looked like a stranger. They couldn't stand to look at it.

The room was quiet except for the sound of scissors clicking open and shut in a deliberate rhythm that made Whumpee’s skin crawl.

Open and shut.

Whumper stood behind them, holding the scissors in one hand and a comb in the other. "Your hair’s gotten too long," they said casually. "It doesn’t suit you."

"I like it this way." Their voice wavered at the tiniest display of defiance.

Whumper chuckled, stepping closer. "You don’t get a say in that, darling. Not anymore." They ran the comb through Whumpee’s hair with slow, deliberate strokes, tugging just enough at their scalp to make them wince. "You’re mine to look after. Mine to shape."

Whumpee flinched as the first clipping of hair fell to the floor. It landed silently, a dark feather against the cold tiles, but to Whumpee, it sounded like a gavel striking. A verdict passed. Another piece of themself stripped away.

"See?" Whumper said, brushing the hair off Whumpee’s shoulder with a heavy hand. "It’s just hair. You’re making a big deal out of nothing."

It wasn’t nothing.

Whumpee clenched their fists, ragged nails digging into their palms as more strands fell, piling up around the chair like a cruel parody of snow.

"Stop," they managed, "Please!"

They tried to yank away, but Whumper’s hand was still on their shoulder, and their grip tightened, pinning them back into the chair.

Relentless.

Unyielding

"You’ll thank me later," Whumper said, their tone still infuriatingly calm. "Trust me, you’ll look better this way."

Whumpee bit their lip hard enough to taste blood. The sound of the scissors snipping echoed in their ears, louder than it should have been. Mocking.

When Whumper finally stepped back, they surveyed their work with a satisfied smile. "There. Much better. Don’t you think?"

Whumpee stared at their reflection, mouth dropping. You're kidding.

Before, their hair had fallen down their back but now Whumper had cut it short-- the jagged edges barely brushed the tips of their ears.

Their hands trembled, hovering near their head. They couldn’t bring themselves to touch it.

"I hate it," Whumpee said, their voice barely above a whisper.

Whumper’s smile widened, their eyes gleaming with something dark and victorious. They leaned in close, their breath hot against Whumpee’s ear. "I didn't ask what you thought, darling. You’ll learn to love it. Or not. Either way, you’ll wear it how I want."

Whumpee blinked back tears.

Whumper straightened, brushing stray hairs off their gloves. "Go clean yourself up," they said lightly, turning away as if nothing had happened. "You should look presentable when I take you out later."

Whumpee didn’t move right away. They sat frozen in the chair, staring at the tired stranger in the mirror; at the scattered pieces of themselves on the floor.

The room felt colder now. Emptier.

The AC buzzed; the air now cold on the back of their exposed neck.

Finally, they stood, legs trembling, and began to sweep up the hair.

[generalsdiary]

Dan Heng's diary

about Caelus

yes, he is messy. but he won't harm others. yes, he is childish. but he won't be convinced into committing an unforgiving crime. yes, he digs through trash cans with an aspiring passion. but he will never blame me for his mistakes. yes, he is a human equivalent of a raccoon. but he is clever, he is kind and warm and will not allow others to take advantage of him. and he is loyal to the bone and when he kisses me... when I kiss him, sometimes I feel like he blushes more than me. how does it feel like to kiss a star? he is one giddy star. the type that giggles with a boyish charm when I kiss him goodnight. a bright star with abnormal warmth and I can't help but gravitate to him. to seek his body next to mine. which he is almost always eager to do. my cuddly Caelus. my... just. just cuddly Caelus. despite his preference for a soft bed, he always sleeps on the hard floor in the archive with me. one pillow, one blanket.

weirdly, he is quieter than me. I still recall his silence when he saw my Vidyadhara form. days later he explained that he was shocked... and found me extremely attractive.

"they look like popsicles"

"is that why you wish to see my original form?"

"no, it is so I could do this!"

it was a strange sensation. him licking my horns. it is little to say I was surprised. yes, he does out-of-pocket things. but he only has the best intentions and means no harm.

thanks to him I feel more comfortable in it. although, I only relax in that form when I sleep. it requires concentration to appear the way I usually do.

Caelus is also a menace in the way he will wake me up by nibbling on my neck, leaving small bite marks.

"in my defense, I like the way you sound when I do" he would usually use as an excuse.

Pom-Pom told me Caelus was soon getting his own room. that they have been working on a new part of the train. he seems excited about it. overjoyed even. he kept asking if that meant that he was getting a roommate.

last night, Caelus insisted that I share the room with him. promising to buy turquoise or blue sheets and play water sounds so that it may feel like the archive. ... he is adorable. my Caelus

first night in his room. what a messy sleeper. and cute in the morning. I woke up before him, which is rare. the room was chilly so I got my hands under his shirt and cuddled more for warmth. strangely I was woken up by him rubbing my scalp and leaving kisses on my forehead. I fell more in love with him that morning. the reasoning behind his actions he voiced with big golden eyes and a rough morning voice, "I'm happy". loving him feels easy.

"you like the room that much?"

"no, I'm not talking about the room."

"don't lie, you were practically screaming when you heard you're getting a room."

"okay, okay- maybe~ but screw the room if you're not with me."

yes, he is messy. but he won't break my heart.

[clarabellashere]

Daryl Dixon x Reader

tw: +18, smut (without sex because I don't know how to write that 😭)

no use of pronouns for reader

Animalistic, that’s how you would describe your feelings. 

When the end of the world is upon you something changes within yourself. Some would say that a part of you dies, humanity vanishes, but deep inside, you know nothing of you is different, you are no different than before, you have always been like this, felt like this, suppressed the need and hunger. 

You used to feel so weird when eating in public, something akin to shame of your inappropriate behavior when any sane person would know that eating an apple while walking is not inappropriate or “weird”. The hunger has always been there, your primal instincts have always been in you, embedded in your genes, your dna. 

Humans always forgot that they were animals. Now there isn’t really a difference, we survive and eat like any other pig, any other animal. 

There’s not much thinking, you act for your survival. And there definitely wasn’t any when you kissed Daryl Dixon. You had an appetite and acted upon your needs. And like the animals you both are, he answered by deepening the kiss and evolving you in his arms, flexing his muscles and pulsating with adrenaline. 

You were both on a run, being surprised by a dozen or so walkers in the abandoned grocery store. Your bodies drenched in sweat and black blood from the corpses, hollow breaths and heat emitting from your bodies. Your eyes locked once the last one of them dropped to the ground, gun and crossbow still aiming. You didn’t feel the small rise of your lips, Daryl did. 

Oh, how he loved that smirk of yours, that something tingling in your eyes. Your hair definitely escaping from your hair tie and sticking to your wet forehead. He fixated on a small bead of sweat glistening and traveling from your neck, to your clavicles until deep inside where he could no longer see but couldn't stop thinking about. 

With his eyes traveling from your chest to your body he lowered his crossbow and as his gaze went to your eyes, he walked closer to you, the proximity making you lower your own gun and rotate your body to his, stepping back once he was close to you, way closer than you have ever been. The cold wall making a gasp escape from your lips. 

With his eyes still fixed on yours, he touched your arm but didn't dare to move his hand, as if all the bravery he had in him vanished once he touched you, once he was sure it wasn’t one of the many dreams he had just like this. Once his skin was on yours, it was over. You didn’t care about being inappropriate, professional or any other crap you once used to hide your feelings, your needs. You launched yourself to him and pressed your mouth to his, tongue slipping in. 

Daryl didn’t hold back now, if you wanted him, he was yours. His body was yours. He hugged you tighter, your body fully pressed against him, your hands in his hair or on his shoulders, feeling him. His hands found their way under your shirt, loving the feel of your warm skin of your back against his calloused hands. 

Legs intertwined, moaning and gasping for air, sloppy kisses and playful bites in each other's skin. Animals is all you were.

[whumperer-86]

Bad Memory Eraser ep2

Fainted , collapsed because of brain surgery bad memories

[inazuman]

"he does love you, you know."

you tell rin this one night, a family dinner half laid out on the table.

you knew, somehow, when you met rin half a year ago, much earlier in you and sae's relationship. you know because you have it, too. that addiction to sae's validation. but you also know how he holds back his words so only himself and the dead can hear.

"he thinks you're good at what you do." you think that might matter to him more, with the way it seems to run his life. "he just doesn't say it because he thinks it's obvious, because he thinks you already know."

rin turns away. "it doesn't mean anything, coming from you."

"i know." you do know, that nothing is sweeter than sae's own words, his attention on you. "but i wanted to tell you anyways. want to give you something, even if it's not the same. even if it wouldn't be enough."

"you make him look." it's said sharply, with a twinge of envy, but you don't react. he almost wants to put his hand against your throat.

it's a realization, fast and hot like the cutting edge of a sword. he approaches you, hands on either side of you against the kitchen counter. maybe that'll do it. maybe that will-

"rin."

sae's voice rings clear as a bell as he enters the kitchen. "what are you doing?"

rin's eyes flit between yours, then to sae's. he pushes himself off the counter.

"i was just asking rin to help me find something," you smile sweetly towards sae, voice airy and easy. "i was having a brain blank, forgot where the whisk was. he was trying to tell me it was in the drawer behind me the whole time." you wave your hand, reaching for the utensil. "i think i annoyed him. you guys are pretty similar in that regard, huh?"

sae's silence is nothing if not frightening. he only interrupts it when he looms over you, squeezing your shoulder.

"yeah." he pushes you gently towards the dining room. "why don't you go sit down. i'll take over from here."

[tobiospoiltmilk]

I love you, I’m sorry.

—

summary. in which megumi could not handle avoiding you anymore. apologizing to you by letter, given he could not face you in such circumstances. could this also be an accidental confession?

cw(?). sfw, swearing, !megumi x !femreader, mentions of tsumiki, gojo and your !sister, slight angst, fluff, not proofread, terrible capitalization, reminiscing, reciprocal feelings, childhood friends, mutual pining, things not being casual, lyric/title name mentions (i love you, im sorry, casual, kaleidoscope.), basically megumi is so in love with reader his heart hurts and yearns for her

a/n. omg guys i love this so much agdydhdhsj… very first post so i hope this does well! might consider releasing pt. 2 if it does -sob-

Dear Y/n,

It’s me, Megumi. And before you decide to throw this thing out, or whatever it’s supposed to be… hear me out. Please. I know I haven’t been the greatest to you these past weeks. i’ve been a total jerk, and i’m guessing it really wasn’t a secret now, was it? Yeah… whatever, anyways. I guess i’d like to tell you that i’m sorry. I really, truly am… and i know i don’t seem the type to apologize, but i guess when it comes to you, apologies come easy. Because you deserve every damn apology in the world, and if i had one wish given to me, I wouldn’t… hesitate to use it on you. I don’t know what i’d wish for, but i do know that no matter what, it would always regard to you. When it comes to you, I’m selfish, i guess…? Please don’t make fun of me. i’m only trying to make things right. Not that i should have a say in that right now… because I know i’ve hurt you deeply, i don’t deserve your forgiveness nor your kindness, but yet, some part in my heart believes that you’ll forgive me anyway. No matter what shit, twisted way i had caused pain in your precious life.

Remember when we first met? We were both as tiny as we would ever be in our lives— so pure, (not really applying to me.) You were taking one of those daily afternoon naps like usual, and unbeknownst to you, a tiny me would be lounging around in your own family’s estate— with the exception of a loud and rowdy Gojo speaking to your sister, of course. I remember when you finally woke up, and i got to see that glass face of yours for the first time. you were 8, i was 7. Yet you looked so beautiful with that droopy and puffy post-afternoon nap face of yours. We played til’ evening in the courtyard that very same day. It’s not like you forced me to play dolls with you, i actually kind of enjoyed it… only because you were my playmate. i just wish Tsumiki would’ve been there when Gojo first took me in from those dreading streets. Yes, i was a grumpy little toddler with somehow the ability to summon a specific arrangement of creatures, you never questioned anything about it. An 8 year old like you, and a 7 year old like me, should have no reason to know anything about curses or techniques at our age. it was so cruel, and although you were older than me by a year, i still felt the need to protect every fibre and aspect of your existence. An existence i hold very dear to my heart, every damn night.

Remember our middle school days? Yes, where my grumpiness piqued at an all time high, a burning flame that threatened to burst if not carefully dealt with. I was considered a delinquent— no, i was a delinquent. It’s no use trying to defend that title, anyway. I beat up kids left and right, totally abused my gifted strength to terrorize other bullies and jerks who were entitled to popularity. Hey, atleast i only went after the bad people, haha? Nonetheless, you never considered me a bully, or a bad person. That sweet, little mind of yours thought that little 12 year old me could never do anything wrong. Yet you know every action i did proved you so wrong. You watched from afar as i would beat up several kids above grades older than me at once in an old, abandoned baseball field. A small smile on your face, sat prettily on a bench with your friends while happily eating away at your bento your sister made for you every day for school. And during recess, while i was being the usual grumpy jerk that i was, you’d somehow find away to cheer me up. One day, when things got so bad i almost lashed out on Tsumiki, you were there to comfort me. Your small little hands wrapped around my arm, rambling on about how your day went as if being this close of a proximity was casual in anyway. It immediately snapped me out of whatever bullshit show i was about to put on against Tsumiki’s teasing. Part of me hoped—no, wished the way you were with me wasn’t casual, was it casual?—

—You and Tsumiki were the bestest of friends, given you both were the same age. I loved seeing you bond together, even if i never made an effort to show my appreciation. In conclusion… i was never really necessarily a good person in my life, but during the years you were gone— two years, i’ve managed to learn how to calm down the raging fire burning within my heart. i would think about you and Tsumiki when things would get tough. Whether it be controlling my emotions, or when i’m somehow losing a battle against a curse a slight grade level above me. I always won, thoughts filled with the both of you. Minus the injuries. The most important people in my life. Someday i’ll be able to thank you for your help, and in another life, Tsumiki.

Those days you were absent from my life, i spent reminiscing our greatest memories. Not one memory have i forgotten that the two of us shared. And the one that stuck the most in my head, was the one spent at the hospital when we were 9 and 10, waiting outside the comatose room where your dearest sister lay. You were crying into your small little arms, wailing and mourning for your sister’s comfort yet you knew she wouldn’t be available right now. All you wanted was for her to wake up, why wasn’t she waking up? Your 10 year old brain asked yourself. I watched as you wept from the chair beside you, peeking to see those glossy tears falling from those God-gifted eyes of yours from under your wrapped arms, hugging your small frame. My heart ached so much for you, i swear i was going through heart murmurs at that moment. Little 9 year old me had no idea how to comfort someone… because i was never really familiar with comfort to begin with. The only solution that appeared in my young mind… was to share my red bean stuffed panda bun with you. And so that’s exactly what i did. My small, yet experienced hands immediately got to work, reaching into my little side bag to search for the familiar wrapping on mind. Once in my grasp, i carefully tore the packaging, revealing a wonky, yet delicious red bean stuffed panda bun still warm and ready to eat. Yet instead of stuffing it inside my small little stomach in 4 bites, i tore it in half, not the most symmetrical halves, but it still did the job. And with that, i reached out to give a little tap on your bony shoulder, snapping you out of your sobs as you turned to me with puffy, red cheeks stained with raw tears. I proceeded to (nonchalantly) hand you the other half of my red bean stuffed panda bun— I gave you the bigger side, of course. You deserved it more than anything. Oh the butterflies i felt in my jittery stomach when i finally saw that sad face of yours light up in appreciation and excitement. Especially when your precious smile was caused by little ol’ me. It was safe to say, that we both happily indulged in our savoury snack that day. Not to forget, I also remember Gojo taking us out for ice cream the same day. I wasn’t proud that it cheered you up more than my attempt, but as long as you’re happy, i guess.

When I saw you the first time in 2 years at the Sister School Games Event, i swore my heart stopped beating in 3 exact intervals. I saw a kaleidoscope of bursting colours grow within my blurry vision as i tried fathom if it was really you or not, but that radiant aura of yours that you carry was so igniting, i knew i wasn’t mistaken. It was you, you, you, you. Where did you go, and why did you leave me with no closure? I know i have no place to say whether i’m mad at you or not— in fact, i was more mad at myself than i was at you. I was mad at myself for letting you go so easily, without even trying to reach out to you when your clan sent you away to become a sorcerer at Kyoto Jujutsu Tech. Who were you to leave me behind for so long, only to come back happy as ever, like nothing ever happened? Not that i’m… complaining, obviously…— After those 2 years, you had become even stronger than you were before. Stronger than me, in all honesty. It was hard to admit the fact you were a higher grade level than i was at first, but i’m happy for you regardless. I remember those days when i was the one to protect you from mosquitoes and critters hungry for your precious, sweet blood whenever we’d play outside in your courtyard. 7 year old me, and 8 year old you, were practically inseparable. You loved my divine dogs so much, some days i’d think you only hung out with me to chase them around with mud all over your clothes. You always assured me that you ‘loved’ me more though, if that was casual. I don’t know.

Now… back to what i was saying at the start.

I love you, and I’m sorry.

-To my dearest Y/n L/n.

From Megumi Fushiguro.

a/n. LET ME KNOW IF U ENJOYED IT ?? 😔

and once again, i might consider releasing pt.2 of reader responding/reacting to the letter! who knows, maybe you’ll even spill out some confessions… wink wink.

[its-all-papaya]

trick or treat🎃🎃

come trick or treating!!

I've been trying to change these up in terms of content type, so I was considering on the walk home what ideas I could throw at a wall that aren't just dad lando or other wip snippets, and i think... ballet dancer lando au??

This started as an anybody, nowhere AU dupe and became a hallmark christmas movie in my head REAL QUICK but hear me out:

lando as the principal at a ballet company. he is the best. he has achieved The Goal he's had since childhood. he is being paid to dance. ballet is crazy bc it's so comforting in its familiarity, the lines are all so cleanly drawn, there are rules and correct ways to do things, but it is also soooooooo mean to ur brain (ask me how i know). lando's self-critical ass would suffer similarly to how he has suffered in F1. it's such a balance between repetition and perfection... i could make something of that. i could crawl inside his brain i think. anyway, point is he's kind of burned out and questioning his life's direction and just going through the motions of his job.

oscar's sisters younger than they are irl (like 6, 8, and 14) and in the training school at lando's company. they are mice and/or cookies and/or party children and/or snowflakes in THE NUTCRACKER (hallmark movie, see?)

lando is the nutcracker prince, obviously. and all of the kids worship him when he starts coming to rehearsals with them in december, even when he's just kind of stretching existing blocking. like... he's so good and graceful and they all have crushes on him.

i think landoscar would meet OUTSIDE of ballet context (bar, coffee shop, whatever i invent as oscar's job) and start out flirty cute landoscar-y. lando finding joy in the novelty of him and the dry way he approaches things and tells things how they are, but not in the mean way his choreographers do. it's actually kind of funny. lando is charmed.

meanwhile, oscar's kid sisters chatting at oscar nONSTOP about how beautiful and perfect the nutcracker prince in their production is. he's so kind and SUCH a good dancer and they're absolutely in love with him.

but somehow on one side or the other, someone doesn't know lando's name. so oscar never makes the connection. until CHANCE ENCOUNTER where they put the pieces together. oscar picking up his sisters late bc his mum couldn't and finding lando waiting for them in the lobby, perhaps. giving cute little corrections the youngest one or feeding them extra snacks out of his bag bc it's past dinner. and oscar is like.... OH!!??

i think subplot where oscar's oldest sister is Going Through It as a snowflake and is like "i'm not good enough, i should quit" and lando helping her emotionally or through private lessons or both idk, i've only been thinking about this for like 25 minutes ever.

miracle of christmas ending where through oscar's younger sisters, lando rediscovers the beauty and fun and magic of dancing. and obviously landoscar kissing under some mistletoe or backstage or both or everywhere.

is this anything?? i might be able to bang it out by christmas if i go nose to grindstone and keep myself strictly under like 20k with it.

[imagineitdearies]

~ A Flawed Eternity ~

(AKA drabbles set in the Perfect Slaughter universe. 🩵 Special thanks to @secretbraintwin for the ko-fi request! 🩵)

In which Chatterteeth considers Tyrus and Astarion’s relationship.

-

“I never want to see these wretched little pieces of misery again.”

The undead woman, now called Chatterteeth, froze where she stood. She’d thought long and hard for the past year on how best to ensure her goal. She returned to the material plane for a very specific purpose after all—the Szarr reign’s end. And now it was so close.

Sentiment for these boys standing in front of her couldn’t color her judgment.

As much as she saw good in him still, thought of him nearly like a wayward son, she had been prepared to let Tyrus die. He showed enough signs to warrant concern, if not certainty, of continuing the monstrous Szarr legacy whether he became a true vampire or not. His sweet beloved, on the other hand, only seemed to want Cazador dead. 

Only after hearing these words from Astarion’s lips, however, did Chatterteeth realize she may just have spent less time around him.

A very long time ago, Donnela had promised at first to set the other spawn free under Gathwycke’s reign. She’d sworn, in the shadowed, intimate moments they stole away together, that she would only do what was necessary. And before she drank the vampire lord’s hideous blood, she likely meant it. 

But necessities quickly changed once power was gained. “Aenore,” she’d said over and over again after killing the others only a few weeks later. Sounding so justified in her explanation, “Aenore, they questioned me at every turn; they already whispered plans of my demise. They couldn’t be trusted like you. It was necessary. I only do what is necessary.” 

It must have been Chatterteeth’s first given name. Spoken so soft and entreating in the memory that a shudder traveled down her old bones even now.

Perhaps Astarion’s words lacked the coldness of Tyrus’s orders, but the justification and sheer loathing in them was much more extreme—and he hadn’t even reached true vampirism yet. He could well turn out worse than Donnela.

One of these two boys had to defeat Cazador, however. Chatterteeth glanced between them as they began to follow the group ahead, suddenly at a complete loss as to which.

Her mother had served Gathwycke all her life, raising “Aenore” in the Tumbledown estate. The young girl witnessed from an early age that any person was capable of doing horrible things. But often there were signs to indicate those most inclined. Which made it all the more disgraceful, how blinded she became once Gathwycke brought his beautiful young cousin to the estate for the family rites.

At the age of 142, Aenore had rarely left the estate except for her studies, too quiet in her classes to make a single friend. She’d never left the outskirts of Baldur’s Gate. Donnela brought novelty, beauty, and passion into Aenore’s life, sharing all her tales of traveling across Faerun, uncovering lost items and secrets of the past. And in her, Donnela seemed to have found a confidante, a support, an enthusiast to plan the next adventure with.

They fell in love rather quickly—meeting outside the estate on quiet nights to explore the city in ways Aenore never had before, kissing and then making love under the false protection of darkness.

But Gathwycke threatened that bond over the years. As he grew more controlling, he exercised cruel punishments on Donnela and forbade her to ever leave the estate. As he became more covetous and paranoid, he stunted Aenore’s arcane studies and even burned her spellbook. Eventually he forbade them ever speaking on pain of death.

With her beloved threatened, Aenore had been more than ready to kill him for it.

She saw some similarities in Tyrus and Astarion now. They fought for love and liberation; they trusted no one but each other. They were ready to make sacrifices, no matter how great, to ensure the other’s happiness.

But she’d seen how such sentiments could sour. How what was sacrificed in the “name” of love fell far from the actual thing, and could end up tainting such feelings forever. How trust could falter as priorities twisted to center around power and control. How liberation could turn into a new kind of enslavement.

Aenore helped Donnela kill Gathwycke. But she’d only given her master a new name.

Astarion helped Tyrus so willingly now, supporting his weakened form as they braved the first few stairs down into the grand chamber. And Tyrus kept moving, even knowing he was walking towards his own death, so that he might save Astarion’s life. The sight alone nearly cracked the fortitude of her reasoning.

But she and Donnela had once held each other just as gently. How long would either of their touches continue as caresses, their gazes keep soft, their love stay true, should she reveal another path? One that would not only help them survive together, but seize power?

Aenore, young and foolish as she’d still been, supported Donnela’s decision to drink from Gathwycke’s neck. It seemed like the only way to ensure they kept control of the Tumbledown Estate, and not fear when the other vampiric Szarr family members came to call. Even after the death of the other four spawn, even once Donnela started to Turn her own unwilling fledgelings, Aenore had refused to see what was happening. She only tried to steer her beloved towards other projects, like the Tourmaline Depths excavation and new palace construction.

She tried to control Donnela in return. And that is where she failed her. 

“They are only fodder now,” Astarion had just said of the victims around them. And if he ascended, how soon until Tyrus was as well?

“You were a step on my path to eminence,” Donnela had said with some measure of melancholy, right at the end of it all. Straddling a defeated Aenore on the crypt floor beneath the new palace they had built together, stroking a blade up and down her sternum. “An important one, my dearest. But I left you unruled, indulged your quiet rebellions too long. Even the bite would not tame the hissing, venemous little thing you've become. Would it?”

Aenore hadn’t fought, not once her own necromantic ability to command undead failed her against Donnela. “I did . . . only what was necessary,” she whispered, thinking of the much more quiet defiance she’d enacted against the woman she loved: creating one last soul cage, enchanted onto a simple folded parchment in the library along with instructions for whoever found it. A way to turn the enchantment against the vampire lady one day, and entrap her own soul within it for a long, cruel eternity.

With that last measure in place, she didn’t resist the soft kiss Donnela pressed against her lips with those same soft, petaled lips she knew so well, just before the blade pierced her heart.

Yet neither had she resisted the chance to return and ensure, this time, that the Szarr legacy was fully destroyed, the cycle of violence and bloodshed finished. That another Donnela wouldn’t walk into these halls and suffer the same fate as her own beloved.

Or so she’d thought.

Now the skeleton called Chatterteeth was at an impasse. If Tyrus killed so many, he would fall into darkness. Even if he didn’t kill them, giving him the mere knowledge on how to control Astarion could prove disastrous. But if Tyrus died—clearly Astarion would be lost all the same.

Donnela and Aenore’s fight for freedom turned into a quest for power that destroyed them both.

Was there any surety that these two could be different?

No, Chatterteeth realized as she hurried her old bones into motion and caught up with the boys’ descent down the stairwell. Her jaw clicked uncontrollably as she steeled herself for what she was about to do—for all she was about to risk.

“Tyrus,” she hissed as she caught up with them. “Tyrus.”

There was no surety they would make better decisions than she and her beloved. But perhaps there was a hope.

[lildoodlenoodle]

Some random spider noir information from the comics! I’ve specified where the movies might come in and fanon stuff!

Noir was raised to be and is a socialist activist.

Dude most likely has a 1920-30s NY Bowery accent.

His first run takes place in 1933, in ITSV he comes from 1933, his second run(EWAF)takes place 8 mo. after, so he’d be coming off EWAF to ATSV.

Age wise this makes him 17-20.

Noir has been spiderman for like 2 yrs at most by ATSV, he started in 1933 and is from 1933 in ITSV.

Was bitten by a mythical spider rather than a radioactive one(its a whole thing let’s not get into it).

His costume is/based on his Uncle’s WW1 fighter pilot outfit

He has a black cat named Ding Ding.

Has an ambiguously strained relationship with aunt May bc she’s against killing, he is not.

Yes, he kills Nazis.

Yes, his uncle was cannibalized, his ‘love’ interest had her face mutilated, and his best friend was lobotomized.

Had two paternal figures named ‘Ben’ who died lol.

One of the few spiders who are always strapped.

Has organic black webbing!

If I’m remembering this right unlike the other Peters he’s more interested in physics than bio.

In the comics he’s not as physically strong as the other spiders and carries around a small vile of venom for emergencies.

He lives/grew up in a Bowery welfare center with his Aunt and Mj(sometimes) but later gets his own office/apartment.

Recruited to Superiors death squad before working with the other spiders.

Has died at least once(confirmed), but implied multiple times, and was resurrected from another dimension by a spider god back to his own universe.

Fanon wise, most people call him some variation of Benjamin(while avoiding Ben lol) like Benj, Benji, B, etc. with various justifications but ultimately to more easily differentiate between the other Peters. Me personally, I think he takes on the name ‘Benjamin Urich’ but that’s a different post.

Noir does have canon love interests. He has had a romantic(mostly sexual) relationship with White Widow aka Felicia Hardy, but she was like 40 he was like 16/17 it’s weird and gross. He has also had a weird relationship with his MJ but it’s not super flushed out and he even says in the comics it’s strained, so most fanon views her as a sister figure.

Fanon wise, he is often shipped with his best friend Robbie Robertson(who dies very traumatically) or Jean DeWolfe, a federal agent, he’s seen working with. Recently, I’ve seen him shipped with a lot more characters, most notably Ham, Hobie, and Miguel.