#so i wrote this to cope

[elsecrytt]

masochist gojo. gojo who's in love with pain, so much that it feels like pleasure, he can barely distinguish between the two anymore.

gojo who's so starved for touch. who's had an infinite space between himself and the whole world for so long, for so many years, every day in and day out.

gojo who's survived off glancing presses when a barista hands him a coffee, the rare hug from his students (who are mostly orphans) that he can't bring himself to decline.

gojo who craves more but can't bring himself to accept it except in fleeting moments with strangers or students.

his hands that long to be held. he wants it so bad that he teases a cursed spirit, laces his fingers with its own, right before he utterly crushes the being in battle, untouchable all over again.

gojo whose skin is hungry for someone else's. he hasn't felt the warmth of a hand in his own in so long. not since - since his youth.

gojo who sometimes wishes he could get hit. who sees the impact of curse techniques on his infinity and feels a wild, strange desire for them to go straight through and strike him.

he imagines it, vividly, being impaled by a long spear (inverted spear) that goes straight through him. how it would lance his flesh so cleanly.

being struck so hard, across the face, in the stomach, enough to knock the wind out of him.

enough to feel it with his whole body.

gojo who wants to be touched so bad he doesn't even care if it hurts anymore. infinity couldn't protect him from geto's betrayal.

gojo who keeps infinity up not because he doesn't want to get hit, but because he's terrified of what he might do when it happens.

gojo who got hard whenever geto sparred with him. he still doesn't know if it was because of geto, or because he had no infinity back then, no way to block the strikes.

he dreams of his youth. bruises littering his pale, pretty form like kisses, proof that he was human, there, that there was someone who could reach him.

dark purple things that turned pretty colors as they healed. he remembers pressing into them, relishing the hurt, feeling like he was getting hit (touched, reached, connected) all over again.

nothing ever touches him again. not like that. not like anything.

he never feels it. he never feels anything.

satoru gojo who wants, so very very badly, to feel something.

pain is a choice for him, always a choice. he alone has the privilege of deciding whether or not anything can touch him.

he could try to let more strangers touch him. one night stands, discreet arrangements. he had a pretty face and a body to match. there was no shortage of willing partners.

he lets them touch him, lets them hurt him. lets them drool over his body and use it at their leisure. they tell him he's beautiful, and he believes them.

white hair, blue eyes, sprawled out with a lean, unmarred body full of bare flesh for them to bite and scratch and bruise. he finds people who will do it, do it hard, fuck him up until he's lost entirely in the feeling of being touched, having someone against him, with him, above him.

it makes him feel like a piece of meat. it makes him feel good.

or he thinks it does, anyways.

sometimes, when he's gone particularly long without sleep, when his partner has gone particularly hard, he gets a real rush.

heart racing out of his chest. a cold sweat that overwhelms him. breaths coming in labored gasps. he can heal himself, he's physically fine, so this must all be in his head.

he acknowledges that information, distantly, like it's not happening to him. it doesn't help.

it feels like part of his body has been ripped away from him, something vital and important, and it's about to get up and run away.

always, always, it happens when his partner is no longer touching him. when he lays alone in the sheets, by his own volition, because of course these partners are not meant to be attachments.

love is not a privilege, though, not for the strongest sorcerer. it's a curse.

it's the only curse which infinity cannot protect him from.

so gojo stays untouchable. distant.

but the hunger doesn't go away. never.

he likes to imagine that suguru swallowed this one last curse before he died. something sweet and bitter, like losses at the arcade, sunny days at the beach, walking together with shoko, nanami, haibara.

but even suguru couldn't have absorbed this curse. it's in his bones, deep, longing and wanting even after he's dead and gone.

gojo is hungry. he is so, so hungry. and he has nothing to eat that will not leave him just as empty as before.

touch-starved. love-starved. pain-craving.

if someone could hurt him then it wouldn't matter that he was terrified of attachment. they could latch onto him, into his heart, under his skin. bury themselves in his chest like they belonged.

they could kill a hundred and twelve people and it wouldn't matter, because he wouldn't be able to kill them.

gojo is hungry, so hungry.

please feed him.

[charon-cries]

when OTHER people try to distract or comfort themselves, they call it "coping" and "self-soothing," but when i do it, it's a "mental compulsion" and "you have OCD"

[buttercupshands]

MHA didn't create some miracle way of helping others. It was never promised to be this way. And when it came to villains...

Spoilers for manga all the way to chapter 423.

The only way to get anything in life in MHA was to be born "normal" like everyone else and that way of thinking never left Izuku with Toga getting the same treatment she did before from everyone from her family to her "normal" classmates. It was Ochako who helped Toga even if just a little by lifting the weight of all the feelings that Toga had.

She couldn't save Toga the way one could save a civilian by saving them from harm. If it worked that way Dabi would've saved Toga even before Ochako could apologize for failing to notice Toga. She was so lazer focused on saving everyone else, that she was just another villain to stop, not a human.

Even if by the end of it Ochako helped Toga to deal with her grief, acceptance as it was wasn't something possible when a quirk makes you want to drink someone's blood from jealousy.

We got a bittersweet ending with Toga, in which she probably died from blood loss just like her double did in MVA. If it wasn't for Twice she would've died back then.

Giving away her blood for Ochako wasn't a redemption or a way to save Toga in the end, more as it was her being true to herself until the very end.

Just like Twice chose to stay with the League even if Hawks offered him a way to survive that battle. He refused and died protecting his friends who accepted him instead of choosing to betray them and accept Hawks' offer.

After Twice's death... It was a matter of time that more 'active' LoV members would join him as well. As sad as it is, we now can return to Izuku.

Who, after his time OFA-AFO quirk space, now wanted to help a "crying boy" he saw in Tenko just as before with Katsuki in chapter 1. He didn't forgive Tomura and didn't excuse the way he chose to solve his problems.

It didn't mean that Tomura would survive in their battle, even if Izuku didn't see killing others as a way to solve problems. He didn't understand Tomura, but he still wanted to try, and try he did.

The rest of this post was nothing more than a contextual prologue to understand that it's not the first time a hero failed to save a villain and in Twice's case we know that he died and his death was the reason Toga started thinking about her own possible death and Dabi finally revealed himself as Toya.

The goal of saving a "crying boy" never was an end-goal for Izuku in the Final arc, since helping Tomura deal with his feelings just left him hollow with a goal that clashed with Izuku's. As being a hero for villains meant destroying the world for them to help them live freely.

But that was before AFO resurfaced.

Sadly after that Tomura who was talking about making his own choices for a while now stopped doing that. Even if he still had a goal of helping villains and only villains, Tomura was almost gone. And his goals were now unreachable.

Izuku helped Nana who in turn kept Tomura from fading away entirely. In MHA there were countless situations where Izuku's help affected people by helping a different person to keep hope, All-Might being the first one and Nana being the last one at the moment.

Hollow after Izuku helped him to get rid of his hatred Tomura could do the only thing he did - accept the situation as it was.

Accepting AFO as his Sensei, accepting Stain's ideals and Overhaul's deal was the way he solved his problems. Just like Izuku had a problem of understanding something outside of his norm, Tomura was accepting too many things, which lead to his downfall after accepting AFO's quirk.

Just like Twice could've given up everything that he had for his friends so did Tomura.

With Izuku helping as much as he could let Tomura to finally rest as he wasn't really living ever since waking up in the hospital. With his body now affected by AFO's wishes instead of his own until the end.

In a way Izuku didn't succeed in his wish for Tomura to stop ever since PLF war arc. As he "kept fighting to destroy" no matter how hard Izuku tried to stop him.

The only thing he succeeded in was changing Tomura's mind about himself, instead of viewing himself as a monster he accepted that he was a human just like Izuku said. A "crying boy" who couldn't really destroy Izuku's hands in the end.

For a group of Villains who weren't supposed to get profiles of their own at the start of the series, League is slowly fading as the most memorable group that there was in MHA, getting backstories, their own Villain themed arc all the while being as human as anyone else.

As sad as their story is they were not "unlucky", they didn't need a happy false ending where they would need to change to be normal - they chose to live this way and they lived it to it's fullest.

[nonbinarylesbianherb]

guys so overall we know there’s going to be 9 episodes, we’ve already (supposedly) had the trials for jen, alice and agatha, which leaves rio, teen and lilia, which is 3 more episodes, our last one was 5 so it means the trials end at episode 8,

leaving us one more episode.

“episode 9 will be the episode that ties it all together that’s why there’s no trials left for it”

WRONG!!

episode 9 is actually just an entire filler episode of agathario going at it for 30 minutes TRUE!!!

[xdacted]

not here

Pairing: Reader x Carlos Sainz Jr.

Warnings: pure 100% fluff, nothing but fluff, the tiniest hint of angst, but mostly fluff

Word Count: 500

Status: Completed

Carlos didn’t get to see her as often as he wanted. 

He didn’t even get to see her as often as he needed. There was always something pulling him away. Always a phone call to be taken, an autograph to be signed, an interview to be helped - always something. 

But not now. 

Not here. 

Not in the quiet hours of the morning, just before daybreak, the sun resting below the horizon. The moon cast pure light through the windows, moonbeams dancing across their sheets, stars twinkling beside them. Her arms curled around a pillow, legs tangled together. He didn’t know where he began and she ended, but he liked it that way. The lingering night breeze brushed against his bare skin, sweeping through the windows. The world outside fluttered awake, but Carlos had her here. 

Pressed to her back, arms tucked around her waist, buried in the thicket of her hair. Carlos couldn’t see her face, but he had memorized it. Each shadow, each line, each curve - each beautiful feature was committed to memory. The soft sound of her snores filled their room, her heartbeat steady against his skin. 

Not a thing could reach them here. 

He liked it that way. 

Carlos leaned down, pressing a chaste kiss to the exposed skin of her shoulder, “Hermosa.”

His voice was too quiet to wake her, but he liked to see her nose twitch at the sound. 

Beautiful. 

Moments like these, where the world seemed to still for just a second, made the distance agonizing. Separated by oceans, miles of land, hours of the day - it was painful. Race weekends were filled with exhilaration and adrenaline. Race weekends were also filled with a clawing sense of breathlessness. 

He couldn’t breathe. 

But here, laying beside her without a care in the world, he breathed. 

Carlos breathed. 

Inhaling the scent of her shampoo and the dying hints of her perfume, she filled his lungs.

He breathed. 

She turned in his arms with a heavy sigh, burrowing into his chest. Carlos couldn’t help but smile, tightening his arms around her. 

He didn’t see her as often as he wanted, but she was here now. 

Behind him, the sun began to rise, warmth trailing up his back. Soft rays crawled up the sky, spilling across her skin, and coiling in her hair. Carlos leaned down, pressing another kiss to her cheek and neck. She groaned, scrunching her eyebrows together. 

A gentle laugh rumbled from his chest, dropping another kiss to her nose, “Hermosa…”

“...stop watching me sleep…”

Her voice was scratchy and unused, the corner of her lip quirked to reveal the smallest hint of a smile. 

“But you’re so beautiful,” He whispered, nuzzling into her neck, “How can I help myself?”

A giggle fell from her lips like wind chimes singing together - beautiful. 

“It’s creepy,” She stretched, arms winding around his neck, “Better only be for me.”

“Of course,” He said, “No one but you.”

After all, not a thing could reach them. 

Not here. 

_____________________

A/N:This work has been cross-posted on Wattpad and AO3. All are under the name XDACTED. Thank you for reading and feel free to request fics about any of the drivers <3

Also this is my attempt at trying to get out of my writing slump, it's short, it's sweet. I like it, so pls enjoy

[charlescoded]

pairing: lestappen word count: 1.3k rated gen. shapeshifting. charles turned into a cat. post-austria 2019. pre-relationship

“Sorry baby,” Max says, and Charles’ chest feels tight. “I want to rewatch the race from last Sunday.” He explains.

-

Max finds a kitten after Austria 2019, he doesn't know it's Charles.

[mcondance]

cw creampie, period sex, bad ending

sighs… creampies from hobie.. thick loads of white cum… hobie breeding you deep as he can, cause he knows that’s rlly all you want right now. fucking his cum deep into you, fat tip leaking white against your cervix, your sore thighs pressed up against his heated chest, legs thrown over his shoulders, your hands thrown around his neck. his hand caressing your hair as he makes sure to rut against you, makes sure you feel every drag of his cock against your sensitive walls, makes sure you feel the base of him slide against your achy entrance, makes sure he ruts his hips against your achy vulva, your lower bodies a mess of cum and blood.

“i know, love, i know. i’ll make it feel better, swear.” and he does, grinding his dick into you until all you feel is white hot pleasure, pulses of ecstasy streaming through you. hands moving from your hair, he swipes his thumb over your puffy clit, pushing his hips into you firm and deep, coasting you into another orgasm that you hit with a gritted moan, head thrown back into the pillows, shaking and trembling in his grasp.

“cum in me, please hobie, i need it.” you almost cry, pulling him closer like he’s not already on top of you, like he hasn’t already filled you up once. he lets you, nodding against your lips, seating himself as deep as he can. slurring, “i got you baby,” he cums pressed against your cervix, fulfilling everything you needed from him. he kisses you as you both come down, lowering your legs to the side of him, gentle lips moving softly against yours.

[reverbtunes]

worm tales with skz

➤ summary : “would you love me if i was a worm?”

➤ pairing : skz x gn!reader

➤ genre : literally just crack pls and fluff bc channie manages to make everything perfect

➤ warnings : slight mentions of food, lots of mentions of worms, seungmin’s reader likes worms

➤ a/n : why not? also go check out @portalhan​ ‘s version of this ! their imagines were really fun to read sjdksj <3 lowercase intended !

➤ masterlist !

bang chan !

“would you love me if i was a worm?”

“yeah.”

needless to say, you were both shocked and heartwarmed at the way your boyfriend answered your question without the slightest hesitation. at first, you thought he hadn’t heard you properly, since he was on his laptop, working; so you decided to repeat yourself.

“babe, you’d love me if i was a worm?”

chuckling, chan calmly replied, “i heard you the first time, love. yes, i would.”

looking up at your jaw wide open, he gave you a bright smile and said, “i’d love you no matter what you were, thought you’d know that by now.”

shaking off your surprise, with glee filled eyes, you scooted closer to him on the couch.

“what if i was a pair of wet socks? you’d still love me?” you asked him cheekily.

grimacing, channie lightly replied, “i’d hang you out to dry and then proceed to love you.”

‘he’s the one,’ you thought with a smile on your face as you contentedly lay your head against his arm.

lee know !

“minho?” you called out for your boyfriend, earning a hum in response. you walked into the living room and saw him watching a new movie that had come out the last week.

“would you love me if i was a worm?”

blinking a few times, minho stared at you blankly. two seconds later, he bluntly replied, “no.”

“what?” you asked, placing a hand on your chest, “i thought you said you love me unconditionally??”

“yeah, well the conditions included you being a human, darling. or a cat, at most.”

“if you’d love me if i was a cat, what’s wrong with worms?”

“everything??” he asked. as if it was obvious, “now hush and let me watch my movie.”

he lifted one of his arms as you flopped beside him, huffing at his answer to your question. but, as you felt his arm gently wrap around your shoulder, you thought that maybe you were happy he loved you as a human.

changbin !

“baby~” 

you softly smiled as you heard changbin calling. “yes~?”

he walked into the kitchen, and on seeing you making dinner, walked up to you and wrapped his arms around your waist.

“would you still love me if i was a worm?” 

you burst out laughing at his question, and then genuinely considered it for a second.

“hey! it’s a serious question,” he said, lightly sulking with his head on your shoulder.

“i know, i know! and my answer is.... yes-”

“really?!” your boyfriend interrupted, spinning you around with such excitement in his eyes.

nodding, you answered, booping him on the nose, “uh huh! i mean, you’re already a dwaekki, it’d be wrong if i didn’t love you as a worm.”

rolling his eyes, changbin let go of you and, leaning on the counter, he replied, “no matter the reason, you’d still love me~ and no take backs!”

you held out your pinky, lightly giggling, “no take backs, i promise.”

interlocking pinkies and standing in the kitchen as you were, you knew you wouldn’t give this up for the world.

hyunjin !

as soon as he heard the jingle of your keys, hyunjin sprang up to ask the question of the day.

you stepped inside and were about to announce that you were home, expecting hyunjin to be in your room, but were surprised to see he was already waiting at the door for you.

“would you love me if i was a worm?” your boyfriend asked excitedly.

mentally laughing at his antics, you pretended to think for a moment, and then abruptly said, “lie down on the floor.”

“huh?”

“lie down on the floor, on your stomach!”

“but wh-”

“just do it, will you?” you pleaded, eventually convincing him because who could say no to that face?

hyunjin reluctantly did as you said, and then lifted his head slightly to look you in eye with the most bewildered look he could muster.

“alright! now wiggle.”

“what???”

“c’mon, wiggle around!”

deciding to humour you, hyunjin started to wiggle, twisting and turning his torso and slightly pushing ahead with his legs.

you were practically in stitches by the time he stopped, clutching your stomach with tears coming out of your eyes. once you calmed down, you slowly kneeled down and kissed hyunjin on the forehead, and whispered, 

“i would adore you if you were a worm.”

han !

“my love, my darling, treasure of my life?”

jokingly rolling your eyes at your boyfriend’s nicknames, you look at him inquisitively.

“would you love me if i was a worm?”

“would i what??”

jisung repeated his question slowly, looking at you expectedly and hoping a good answer.

“what the- of course not?”

“excuse me?”

“babe, worms are weird and wriggly and slimy, of course i wouldn’t love you.”

“you mean to say that if you found the poor, helpless worm called han jisung struggling on the street, you wouldn’t pick him up and take him home?” jisung said, borderline offended, and you couldn’t tell whether he was serious or not.

“ji, honey,” you started, taking his hands in your own, “i really love you, but if i saw you as a worm on the ground? it’d be hard for me to not step on you, much less take you in.”

han stood up, pulling his hands away from yours, as he raised his head and, with a swift turn, stomped away to your shared bedroom. maybe he really was upset, but you’d make it up to him with cuddles, apologies, and the reassurance that you love him plenty as a human.

felix !

“lixie, i’ve got a question,” you announced loudly, gaining the attention of the man currently sitting on the floor of your living room, eating a burrito.

“what’s up?”

“would you love me if i was a worm?”

flabbergasted. dumbfounded. rendered speechless. any other synonyms his brain could come up with while in this state.

what did you mean? was it a trick question? if he says yes, will you be disgusted at the thought that he would love a worm? but then, if he says no, what if you think he doesn’t love you? maybe he should answer and then offer his burrito as a peace offering so you don’t get too mad.

“yes....?” felix replied hesitantly.

“is that a question or an answer?” you asked, folding your arms across your chest.

“i don’t know, this is stressful!”

“just answer yes or no!”

“okay then... yes, i think. i’d keep you in the garden so you could have good food and i could have good plants. but i swear, if you ruin any of my plants i-”

giggling, you sat down beside him and tell him you love him and to go back to his burrito, giving him a sweet hug. poor guy deserves it.

seungmin !

you knew to expect absolutely no mercy when it came to seungmin. yes, he loved you, but doesn’t mean he won’t be brutally honest as he always is.

“min, would you love me if i was a worm?”

you swore you’d never seen him that disgusted since he’d seen jeongin eat ramen with ketchup. 

“why a worm? that’s horrible.”

“well, that’s kind of the point! if you really love me, you’d love me no matter what i was,” you explain.

“baby, you know i love you, but a worm?? did you know some of them don’t have a head, only two tails? and they’re so wriggly and slippery, remember the time we tried fishing? do you want to become slimy fish bait?”

“you’d use me for fish bait???”

“it would give your life more purpose than just eating and shitting out compost.”

“i’ll have you know worms are one of the most important creatures in the ecosystem. and i came here expecting a one word answer!” you argued. you were quite fond of the creatures, but you’d kind of expected this reaction when it came to your boyfriend.

seungmin let out a deep sigh, and stated bluntly, “no.”

“no??”

“one word answer, babe.”

he was a menace, but he was your menace.

 i.n !

“jeongin!!!” you call out loudly, startling the poor man sitting at the kitchen counter, waiting for his sandwich to heat up.

“yeah?”

“would you love me if i was a worm?”

“what the- no? obviously??”

“excuse me??? why not?”

“uhm, let’s not get into why not, but you realize you’re never going to be a worm?” jeongin tried to reason with you.

“you don’t know that!” you cry out indignantly.

“yes? i do???”

“okay well, since you’re against the whole human-worm transformation thing, hypothetically speaking, would you still love me?”

“babe the answer’s still a no,” your boyfriend deadpanned.

“well, guess what? since you just shattered my worm heart into three million pieces, good luck getting me to love worm-you!!”

[electricbathsalt]

It’s starting to feel like the vagueness of Chisaki’s story is in of itself part of his story.

He was a child surviving on the streets after whatever event it was that liberated him from AFO’s care. We don’t see any of that, though—we cut forward to him being taken in by Pops. It shows that Pops is “kind” and “generous”, how he helped Chisaki. How Chisaki got involved with the Shie Hassaikai, why he’s so attached, to the point of doing all he did.

The only parts of his past we get to see where he’s not in the presence of someone else, are the ones that are relevant to someone else’s story (him using rats to figure out Eri’s quirk, him being in the orphanage which we now know was shown to foreshadow the Decay-Overhaul reveal, and his side of that is not touched upon at all).

We’ve all talked endlessly about how short and unclear Chisaki’s backstory is. It’s like they made it as perfectly concise as possible, only what was necessary to push the plot forward and explain what’s going on.

Maybe it’s that the actual point of Chisaki’s story is that his story is not meant to be told, because that is his “tragedy”. Chisaki was never meant to be witnessed in his entirety. His story was never meant to be his own. He will always serve as a tool to someone else’s.

[erytherion]

Reading the webtoon and…

Does this imply that Kim Dokja also tried to write a questionnaire for her to fill in since she wouldn’t speak to him, that either he 1) never gave her in the end (especially if he couldn’t find her after she was released) or 2) gave it to her and she STILL refused to answer?

Because that is so so so so awful. It was already bad but if he tried so many ways to get her to speak and she still gave him no response, regardless of her reasoning… isn’t that still directly choosing to cut herself fully out of his life? Why in the hell did she lie for his sake and allow him to visit her if she wanted to never speak to him again?

I know everyone claims Kim Dokja is just like her in sacrificing himself for loved ones, but at least he tries his best to stay with them and to keep them in his life. He still chooses sacrifice, but it’s not because he intends to never return. He always returns (even if much later than planned).

The only time this differs is with 51%, when he STILL tried his best to stay with them - at least as much as he could.

I sometimes like Lee Sookyung, but I am mostly still SO mad at her for completely ignoring her child since he was 8 years old. Especially when he must have looked like shit any number of times from being mistreated and bullied by family, friends, army, employers.

But maybe that’s just the fragment in me being eternally pissed with her. She DOES love him, but like he says in the webtoon in this chapter - maybe such truths are painful enough to be false anyways, because they’re just SUCH bullshit. That’s not how affection should work, if you actually care about someone and want them to be happy.

[letbuckfuck]

im ngl maybe it's just because even though i'm not an abby clark Lover i am kinda an abby clark Liker or at least an abby clark Sympathizer but i'm actually still a little pissed about the way tmmy talked about her

[christronomy]

"is this what real love feels like?"

he'd asked himself this question when he first realized he loved you, but he wasn't sure just yet. he wanted to wait it out a little longer, test the waters a little more for his own sanity. it wasn't the first time he'd felt this way— hopelessly in love, like he's falling, falling, hard, fast, too fast, not knowing what the outcome was going to be when he landed.

the questions constantly raced through his mind; they were repetitive and made his head spin with uncertainty and fear. would he hit the ground and never get back up, never recover? or would you be there to catch him and break his fall? what if he let himself fall freely? could he trust you enough to be there? what if it backfired on him and you ended up leaving right before it was time to save him?

it wasn't the first time he'd done this— shared his body with someone in hopes of making them stay a little longer, maybe even love him a little more. "you don't have to do that," you'd said, and he looked at you, confused. it was late at night, you were both naked under the covers, and he tensed up as you gently caressed his body, only confirming your suspicions all the more. "do what?" he questioned, briefly avoiding eye contact, and you raised your eyebrows. "you know. we all have needs, and that's okay, chris. it's never too much to ask for affection sometimes," you reassured him softly, whispering the last part as you tucked your cheek into his chest, and he instinctively held his breath, not being able to relax his body completely until he fell asleep.

it was a bad habit he'd started to develop after his first heartbreak, along with the constant second-guessing himself, and the constant doubting of his ability to love back freely without having to worry about what might happen in the future. because that's what happens when you give so much of yourself to someone and they end up leaving, without a word, without reason, taking everything with them, leaving you with only the useless remains of what once was something so priceless, so beautiful.

but with you, god, with you, things are completely different. you make him want to do everything he's ever been afraid of doing. you make him want to open up and love you freely, love you without feeling like he has to watch his back to make sure you won't attempt to hurt him when he's not looking. it's a new feeling, not very familiar, but he wants it to be. he wants to love you like this. he wouldn't do it any other way.

that's why you're currently under him, already a moaning mess, his hands are gripping your waist like you'll disappear if he doesn't hold on tight enough. it's a pretty tight squeeze, but you don't mind it at all, not when he's fucking into you so passionately, making love to you in the best way he knows how.

you can't help the tears that had been welling up in your eyes, letting them spill out, because he's finally opening up, giving himself to you without hesitation. he's not recoiling and shutting you out like he used to, because for once, this feels right. what was once such a tedious chore to him is now something he's doing willingly. it doesn't feel the same as it did before, when he would fuck you good and hard just to make you feel like you had a reason to stay. and to you, he doesn't feel so absent anymore. he's engaged, making eye contact, whispering sweet praises in your ear, moaning whenever you clenched around him, touching everywhere his hands can reach.

and god did it feel good. it feels good to let himself melt into you like this, let you touch him the way you want. it feels so good to relish in the way you moan his name as he angles his hips to hit that particular spot inside of you just right, feeling your pretty cunt pulsate around him, and you absolutely adore the way he tosses his head back, small whines escaping his lips at the feeling.

chris brings his hands up to cup your cheeks as he continues to thrust into you slowly now, wiping your tears with his thumbs and kissing you deeply, and his heart skips a few beats at the way you moan in his mouth when he does so. the kiss made something flourish inside of him, a feeling that was so unfamiliar but felt like home at the same time, and he could feel it in the way you both smiled against each other's lips. you were his girl, his love, who healed his heart in so many ways, and he would never trade you for anything else.

this is what real love feels like.

[limonjarritos]

VINCE IS SO DOWN BAD FOR RODY OH MY GOD??? LITERALLY KILLS HIS EX GIRLFRIEND TO MAKE HIM HAPPY???? THEYVE KNOWN EACH OTHER LESS THAN A WEEK??????

LITERALLY LIKE- MY MAN FELL HARD AND INSANELY. LIKE WHO DOES THAT? I wouldn't have it any other way. Just the way that as soon as Rody came into his life he was like 'I need this man to be so whole-y mine.'

When I was playing the game my pet theory was that he fell for Rody's brand of love, for how he loved Manon (he did say that he spoke of Manon when they first met) and Rody's personality.

(read more because I am so annoying about this game vv)

Something something, how Rody loves so intensely to the detriment of himself (Manon told him to stop giving, to for once in his life realise that he needed to take care of him self and be stable. He can't just account for the other person's needs <- barely know her but I get why Rody was head over heels). How Rody's love is similar to his cooking, burning, burning himself, burning and oh so overwhelming. And I do think Vince wanted the feel of that burn for himself, wanted to feel the warmth and devotion of which he had been so devoid of. To understand what it was he was lacking. How love and cooking go hand in hand in the story, how Vince's dishes were devoid of love, how he can't taste. How Rody's love surely would be strong enough, would be the missing ingredient to allow him to finally taste something. (Also lack of taste going hand in hand with what looks like depression of some sort, or perhaps just apathy for life. How bland his own life may be. How such a love, such a person could perhaps bring some taste to his life.) Vince seems to have killed Manon as a form of trying to show Rody a similar type of love. Giving him something, giving him a meal made out of Rody's own love. A gift since he couldn't give his own brand of love in a way that matters, couldn't give it without showing his own brand of devotion. I do think he 100% had an underlying jealousy and hatred of Manon, how Rody was still stuck up on her. How she never once mentioned Rody when her and Vince dated (though outside of Vince's pov I'm pretty sure Manon was just doing the healthy normal thing by not mentioning an ex?? but Vince is soooo gone) which is obviously a sin (he doesn't seem to take kindly to people who are mean to Rody. Such as the article and Rody's old college classmate) and proof she wasn't deserving enough of Rody's love. But alas she was still a gift and show of love to Rody.

On the personality topic (thought I forgot about that did you?), Rody is such a brash and kind person. A perfect foil for Vincent's more stoic nature. Rody willing to try and befriend Vincent, running into the kitchen to talk to him. He showed a bit of said love to Vince by trying to befriend him and how could Vince not want more? (why wouldn't Vince try to reciprocate in his own way. Make him happy) I mean he seems pretty feared by his cooks, and the people at the party have mentioned that Vince is pretty ruthless, not at all a person many wish to get to know. But Rody is willing to, yet Vince wants his undivided attention...

Okay wow this has gone on way too long uhh I'm 100% open to further discussion especially if I forgot something! And I haven't really looked too much into the game past playing it, so any reveals the creator may have given I'm mostly unaware of and would love to be informed of more!

Anyways tiny Vincent attack!

[brothersonahotelbed]

one of these days i'll remaster this but for now its crudeness will be part of its charm. nico music be upon ye

[oneluckydragon]

got hit with the echo+sora brainrot so i am once more rambling in your askbox about it. because reasons.

anywho i think there is something truly saddening about echo's struggles to make peace within herself and how she truly finds it hard to find that peace when she is so certain that if the truth about her origins were to be revealed to the world, much less to *sora*, everything she achieved, everything she worked for, all of which matters to her most, will crumble away in a moment's notice.

but the fear of losing all your life's work is none compared to the fear of losing sora. the feeling of poison that settled itself within themselves and between each other out of fear and tragedy of what had happened to them is familiar. echo's resemblance to dusknoir was already enough to set the two off because of how much it had all hurt to see someone you love and yourself turn into a mockery and a splitting image of someone who had pretended to care yet showed he never did at all, but this poison is louder. it hurts to bare, to carry, and to have none but yourself to be its sole holder.

but this poison, this feeling of heartache is different. because whereas the previous pain was something both of them felt, sora was lucky enough to not have known the truth about the person who she cares for so dearly.

echo knows that she used to be darkrai. and it haunts her to have known that her previous incarnation was so *cruel*, all for the sake of it just feeling right. wishing to engulf an entire world in darkness, solely for whatever desire she used to have.

and for how much she knows, how much she will hammer it into her own head that she is *not* like that anymore, that she looks at her past with sneer and disgust and that she will not be the barer of evil anymore, it will not matter in the slightest when she will have to look at sora if she were to ever find out.

how afraid, angry and dejected she would look when finding out, and how she will go on the defense/offense because of how much this will overwhelm her.

because when echo looks at her own shadow, she sees herself for what she is. she knows what she is, be it out of shame or guilt.

but when sora will look at it, she will see a tall, contorting and menacing shadow, towering over with a bright cyan eye doing nothing but looking at her, as if tempting her to make the next move.

and she defends herself. from someone she knows will not harm her. she raises her arms up in self defense from a hand that would never hurt her more than the world has already did.

she knows echo will not hurt her. and thats why she is afraid.

Oh my oh my OH MY, Sinnoh!!! YES YES YES!

HOW!!! IN THE WORLD!!! Are you so good at crawling into my head and creating these vivid analysis/snippets on my OCs??? I've barely shared ANY information about Echo and Sora because I've been wanting to hoard most of my stuff for when my fic is finally finished... but... I think you've broken my resolve a bit, if I'm entirely honest.

You know what? I'm so inspired by your accuracy and eagerness to talk about my girls that I'm gonna forgo my crippling anxiety regarding my writing skills and instead post a snippet of my WIP fic here as a treat for you. A teaser, if you will. Since I have no idea when the fic in question will actually be done and ready (or when I will be satisfied with it, cause the thing is currently 36,000 words and still slowly climbing). And now you've got me eager to share SOMETHING of my fic with you and anyone that might want to take a peek at it.

Please enjoy this conversation between Dusknoir and Echo. The topic deals a lot with what you'd described up above!! c:

[Note: this is an unedited part of my fic because I am still in the process of writing and it may change in the future, so please be gentle w/ me but I'd love to read any thoughts/comments that pop up while reading!! pls send asks or replies or anything really cause I love you guys]

+++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++

“I’m going to tell you something now, and you are going to listen.” Echo commands with a sharp bite in her voice that Dusknoir cannot fathom ignoring. He pauses and then offers a slow nod, waiting, wondering what she could possibly desire to tell him at a time like this, of all things.

Minutes pass as Echo remains rooted in place, still as her own shadow, and her eyes dart around as she stares at the patches of dry grass and sand beneath her paws. Her claws clench and unclench, digging into the earth like daggers as the wind of the forest (it’s trees so close, just behind them, a looming sort of presence that could engulf them whole) whistles through the surrounding branches, carrying stray leaves of many bright greens through the chilling breeze. Dusknoir watches them dance around Echo, twirling, floating down, down, down… but it’s quiet, too quiet, and Dusknoir feels a shiver pass through him when Echo’s voice finally rings out through the silence.

"When I evolved, Sora was petrified," She says, nearly a whisper, an admission that melts away her confidence and appears to bring her a flood of both shame and regret. Her face twists up then, strangely, like she’d felt a twinge of pain from somewhere deep inside the very fabric of her own soul and was unable to quell it. "She couldn’t even bring herself to look at me most days. At first, my appearance… well, it reminded her too much of you. And eventually of someone I used to be.”

Someone I used to be. At that, Dusknoir’s immediate reaction is to recall Echo’s previous life as a human, as the miserable shell of a creature surviving alongside Grovyle that he’d relentlessly hunted in the dark future. A human made of contempt and anger and apathy, who never smiled or laughed or cried or screamed like the old legends said humans would-- an entity that simply existed rather than lived. An echo of a life long dead and buried. But, judging by her tone, by her voice, by some uneasy intuition itching in the back of his mind like a swarm of pestilent Ninjask… he knows that she means something else entirely. Something that she isn’t willing to share. And frankly, that concept utterly terrifies him.

Someone I used to be. Dusknoir wants to speak, to break his own silence, wants to ask the myriad of questions bubbling up in his throat because this isn't the first time she's hinted at another life beyond being human, but those questions die at the source like a flame doused in water. And always the coward, coward, coward, instead he takes the easy way out by doing nothing at all. Whether Echo notices his surge of inner conflict or not-- the nervous wring of his hands and the tremble in his spine that he cannot control under her gaze-- she does not react.

“I’d take a step and Sora would flinch away.” Echo confesses, her markings flickering with light before going dark and dead, as if her body wished to snuff them out entirely, a deep seated rejection, a self-loathing so strong that Dusknoir cannot help but recognize it and empathize, and his heart aches, “It took ages for her to stop shaking when I’d speak. To stop looking at me like-- like I was going to…” 

Echo grimaces like she’s enduring waves of grueling torture and doesn’t finish that string of thought, but it’s not hard to make an educated guess on what went unsaid. Like I was going to betray her. Hurt her. Break her heart. She’s been through so much already and I couldn’t bear to be another influence in the history of her suffering. I hate myself because of how I made her feel. When her eyes went wide in fear and through them I could see myself staring back like some sort of burden, some sort of curse.

“I am not my past.” Proud and true, Echo straightens up and holds her head high, a spark igniting in her eyes, a glint of determination, a will to keep going and going despite such circumstances and strife, despite this horrid, unspeakable past that haunts her so, “And I am definitely not you. It’s taken a while, but I know that much now. I’ve accepted it.”

I am not my past. And I am definitely not you.

A sigh, a breath, and Echo glances at him with a certain sorrow that cannot be described, a sorrow that lingers even through the veil of her tenacity, "But no matter how I feel, no matter my conviction, my shadows still find ways through the cracks. Every time I think I'm getting a grip and that I might finally understand myself… I change all over again." She admits, sounding more angry and tired than defeated now-- like a mirror of her old self, her human self that had clawed and damned and cursed him, despised him more than anything. "I hate it. I hate that I never truly know who I am. That I have to learn about my past through stories others tell me, or through fragments of twisted, broken memories that I wouldn't wish on anyone. Through conflict and pain and… and..."

"Echo," Dusknoir murmurs her name softly, an offering, a potential escape if only she would wish to drop the subject and forget this conversation had ever happened-- if she'd overstepped and needed an excuse to back out, a diversion, an understanding. And briefly, Dusknoir wonders why she is opening up about this particular information, why she would delve into something so vulnerable, so personal. Why she would bring up this hurtful history when it obviously brings her great discomfort.

And then, he gets an answer.

“You’re lucky, Dusknoir." There it is, that wildfire burning in her eyes again. A spark that’s new and bold and startling. But lucky? No, never. He'd have to disagree, accounting the mountain of evidence that was his life and regrettable deeds.

"You already know exactly who you are and what you’ve done, and most importantly why. You have more than a tattered picture of yourself that reflects broken answers. And you can change with that knowledge. I see you trying.” She tells him, searching, looking for something so deeply and Dusknoir wishes he knew what it could be so that he could give it to her, because he would, he would gladly give it to her without a second thought if it meant they could be close again. But he isn’t a fool, and he’s wise enough to know they’ll never be like they were before. “And if somehow I could change, even as half-assed as I have. Well, then what’s your excuse?”

You can do it, say her unspoken words, I believe in you.

[crow2222]