#this has scarred me for many lifetimes to come

[ballzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz]

hate school fr ( cried because i had to do a speech in front of people i do not know and i know that they're judging me)

[haruchi-slit]

"CONCEALED CHARMS!"

synopsis: jjk men reacting to reader who has small chest!

characters: sukuna, toji, nanami, suguru and satoru

warnings: | sukuna's part: reader is one of sukuna's concubine + nipple play + fingering | toji's part: cunnilingus + nipple play + fingering + slight edging | nanami's part: comfort + p in v + passionate sex (?) | suguru's part: comfort + p in v + lots of kissing (?) | satoru's part: shower sex + p in v + comfort | minors you were warned do not interact

Sukuna:

The king always wonders why his favorite concubine does not take her kimono fully whenever they had sex he was wondering why and it makes his head hurt, does she have a hidden mouth in her chest? no, no, no a mere concubine wouldn't have that, maybe she has a lot of scars? no her skin is like a porcelain. impossible. he wonders to himself. one day he couldn't take much more of it so he orders Uraume to come and get you to his chambers.

"my king, you called?" you murmured closing the doors behind walking towards the king.

he's sitting on the edge of the bed, he stood up, looking down because of the height difference,

"why do you not take your kimono every time we had sex?" he straight up asked, it caught you by surprise...

"o-oh i thought it wasn't necessary nor important that's why..i-"

"you're lying woman." he frowns "what no no no my lord i am n-" you retort before he lifts your weight and bounced you lightly on the soft mattress, "my king you really don't have to see my chest! it's not an important matter!" you resist but Sukuna is just so eager to see what's under your kimino he flicks his fingers together dismantling your kimono and so as your undergarments, your arms were quick to cover your chest, grabbing the sheets of king's mattress. "ah~ is this why you're always covering your chest? how cute." he says as he puts his weight on the mattress crawling towards you, he snatched the sheets you're gripping to with his other arm, "were you afraid that I'm going to replace you because of your chest?" he teased, "y-yes my lord, i was" "how pitiful..." he lets off a sadistic sigh as he grabs your arms revealing your cute small tits, it had his mouth watering, "there's no need to hide, brat..." Sukuna chuckles as he latched his mouth on one of your perked nipples giving them attention that they need, now he's not wondering anymore. now he can focus on giving the attention that they need, he wonders why you hid them away for such a long time. sukuna knows that he have seen many boobs in his lifetime but yours was definitely one of a kind. you moaned softly while he enjoyed your little titties popping them out using his tongue as his other arms and hands pleased your cunt, his tongue placed in his stomach, roaming on your body, at this point his pleasure is not one of his priorities, yours is...

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

Toji:

"shit toji- that's the spot..." you rambled tugging your hands on his hair. This is the third time you and toji got intimate since the two years of your relationship and he hasn't seen you fully nude, yes he has seen your cunt but he hasn't seen your chest, for now, not that he minds he's just curious why. how is he still not yet to notce that you're flat chested? cause you wear push up bras, that's why he hasn't questioned why you don't want to remove your t-shirt. but today the curiosity got to him. "can you remove your t-shirt?" he murmured sending vibration on your clit, "why- so sudden? you never asked me to remove them" you'd debate "it's just...i want to see you nude that's why, you've seen me nude so why can't i see you?" Toji continues while lapping on your pussy, you were nervous, so nervous..."toji- i i can't. i think I can't" you whispered Toji's eyebrows knit "what do you mean you can't?" "it's just- you'll be disappointed" you sucked your lips between your teeth, "disappointed in what? it's not that I'm forcing, I'm just really curious why you never took them off..." he says with a lingering doubt and curiosity as he scissors his fingers in you. you let out a deep sigh and used your elbows to support your weight, you proceed to tug on your shirt revealing your push up bras, toji was too busy eating you up that he didn't even noticed, until he looks up to you, you're completely flustered it was a mix of embarrassment and arousal. toji continues to eat you out with his tongue while looking up to your flustered face, your arms that's covering your chest is what caught his attention. "hah...what is there to hide baby girl? I've literally seen your cunt" Toji says inching his mouth away from your pussy he used his hand to slick his hair back, to take a better look on you, "heh...now i see why" he smirks wiping your juices from his mouth, eyeing at your chest, "why hide this pretty tits of yours princess? were you shy?" you nod "you're so cute when you admit something yea? reminds me when you first confessed to me hah" he uttered ghosting his way to your body once again, swiftly unhooking your push up bras revealing your erected nipples it looked so cute, fuck it looked so scrumptious he swore he almost drooled. Toji wanted to suck your nipples, but not yet, not just yet, he traced his hand on your sensitive nipples, gently pinching tight circles on your tits, making you arch and squirm, your own drool was dripping to the side of your lips, now he decides to lock his mouth to one of your boob and you swore you almost shot stars, "fuckkkk to'ii mhm" you mewled as his finger inserts in your pussy, it felt that good. after that he never ever lets you wear your t-shirts whenever the two of you make love. he says: "it's cute don't hide them away from mee!"

+ ° . ๑・° ⊹ . + ° . ๑・° ⊹ . + ° . ๑・° ⊹ .

Kento:

it's Saturday night and Kento is very frustrated in work, he's supposed to come home by now but he was asked to work overtime, despite not being home for almost a week he was forced to stay over time, by the time he got home it was already midnight and he was surprised that you were still awake waiting for him, eating ice cream and watching movies in Netflix. You rose from your seat and made your way to the hallway to greet him. "good evening, Kenn~" you chirped, planting a soft peck on his lips to which he warmly responded to. "why are you still awake, darling?" he inquired. without missing a beat, you replied, "waiting for you, of course"you tinged with a mischief tone. "did you missed me?" he asks once more "of course i did ken..." you buried your face on his chest, "soo much" you babbled, his lips tugged a small smile as he ruffled your hair, colliding his lips to yours once more.

he admits, that he's not just frustrated cause of work, he was also frustrated of being away from you, this was not the longest time the two of you were separated, but still, nanami missed you, your scent, your presence, your touch- most of all your fucking cunt. there's just one thing that he always had his mind on, why you always wear your over sized shirts while having intimate sessions with him, and it's been going on for years now, but he never questioned that cause it wasn't a trouble for the both of you so he lets you be, it never bothered him until this day.

your legs sprawled in the thick atmosphere of lust as Nanami bucks his hips on you, his balls slapping eagerly on your ass, your arms and hands were locked on his neck, toes curling, back arching and eyes rolling back in to the depths of your skull. "Kento- fuckkk" you wailed, fat beads of tears pooled down from your eyes as he lets out all his frustration on you, "were you waiting for me because you wanted me to fuck you?" he groans drilling his fat cock in your cunt, "yesyesyess" you whined, nodding repeatedly as he carves your womb with his cock. groans were heard echoing in your shared bedroom, Kento noticed that you were sweating so much that it made your clothes damp, he sees this as a opportunity to get you to take your shirt off, "how bout you take that shirt off, baby?" he murmured burying his head on the valleys of your neck, you thought, it's about time to let him know that you're flat, you've been hiding your chest from him ever since, wearing bras with big foams so he won't notice, while being fucked dumb your head was clouded with thoughts, "Nanami- do you like girls with flat chest?" your tongue slipped, as the sound traveled to your ear you realized it sounded so embarrassing, Nanami chuckles at your sudden question, "what do you mean?" "n-nothing!" you stutter "take your shirt off baby, i don't want you to be soaking with your own sweat" lie, Nanami's not the type of guy to lie but he's fucking itching to see you full naked body, thinking about it just makes his fucking mouth drool, you kissed your teeth with your lips as you hesitate looking on the opposite direction it's about time you let him know!

fuck it you thought to yourself. you pulled your head up, positioning yourself in a sitting position before tugging your shirt and bra off he watched all of it, while jerking his cock in your sopped pussy, kento's eyes widen, but it wasn't because he was disappointed, he realized that you were hiding your chest because you thought it'll matter to him, he sees your face flushing to bright pink, he ghost's his lips to yours kissing you so deep and passionately, in which you responded too, you kissed till the both of you were out off breath, "don't ever think that your body's appearance would change my love towards you, you're beautiful...i love you so fucking much" he grunts kissing your forehead, "f-fuck thank you nanaminn~!" you sobbed, "fuck, look at how cute your tits are".

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

Suguru:

this man's always been so mesmerized by your body, your personality and all, the way your clothes perfectly fits your curves, the way you move in such graceful ways, he's on his knees for you, he's always been drawn to your confident and alluring demeanor, as he got to know you more telling you that he love you so much, he found himself falling deeper and deeper in love with you. He loved every inch of you, but one day, as he was caressing your body, he realized something that shook him, while he had always admired your gorgeous curves and full breasts, he suddenly noticed that they were not as prominent as he had originally thought. In fact, as he ran his hands over your body, he realized that you were actually flat-chested.

At first, Suguru was taken aback. He couldn't believe that he had never noticed this before. But as he looked into your eyes, he saw the look of insecurity and fear in them

"S-suguru..." you uttered thinking that he might be disappointed... you've been hiding it from him since the beginning afraid that he'd judge you, and in that moment, he knew that it didn't matter to him. He loved you for who you were, not for the size of your breasts. he pulled you close to him, "y'know that it doesn't fucking matter to me, right? even if you looked like a pancake, I'd still love you.." he chuckle softly showering you with gentle kisses as he whispered sweet nothings of reassurance in your ear. He told you that he loved you just the way you were, that your body was perfect to him, and that he would love and cherish you no matter what. "i love you... don't ever think that you're not enough, you're more thatn enough"

you could feel the weight of your insecurities lift off your shoulders as he continued to caress and kiss your body, showering you with love and acceptance. And in that moment, you felt more beautiful and desired than ever before. sensing your newfound confidence, Suguru's hands began to roam over your body, caressing your thighs, moving his hands to your core, he was determined to show you just how much he loved and desired you, regardless of your breast size. He pulled you into a one deep passionate kiss, his lips hungrily seeking yours as his hands explored your body burning with lust. his touch was estatic, sending shivers down your spine as he worshipped your body with his hands and mouth, with each touch, each kiss, each whispered declaration of love, your insecurities quickly melted away. you were lost in a haze of pleasure and love, completely surrendering yourself to Suguru's touch,

as he entered your cunt, you could feel the intensity of his love and desire fueling every thrust. "holy- shiii s'guruu" you mewled rolling his name out off you pretty mouth as he showed you just how much he loved and, leaving you breathless and completely satisfied.

and as you both lay spent in each other's arms, basking in the afterglow of your lovemaking, you realized that Suguru's love for you was not based on your physical appearance. He loved you for everything that you were, and that was the most beautiful and empowering feeling of all. "i know you already know, but i love you" you whispered mischievously as you kissed his forehead, in which he responds with a witty chuckle pulling you into a bear hug.

➽──────────────────────❥

Satoru:

satoru had been spending more and more time at your apartment lately. ever since he insisted to join your bathing time, he seemed to always find an excuse to come over and spend time with you. and as much as you enjoyed his sweet company, you couldn't help but to feel self-conscious around him. you had always been too insecure about your body's appearance, specifically your flat chest. you had spent years hiding it away, wearing oversized clothes and avoiding situations where you would have to expose yourself.

but now that Satoru was around, you couldn't avoid it any longer. you knew he had seen you in your shower room, but you always made sure to cover yourself up as quickly as possible. However, today was different. You had been caught up in the moment, lost in the sensation of the warm water cascading over your body, when you heard the door to your shower room open. You quickly tried to cover yourself, but Satoru was already standing there, a smirk on his face.

"So this is where you've been hiding," he said, his eyes roaming over your body.

You felt your face heat up in embarrassment, trying to cover your chest with your arms. But Satoru's eyes never left you, and you couldn't help but feel exposed and vulnerable under his gaze.

"I-I'm sorry," you stuttered, not knowing what else to say.

Satoru chuckled, stepping closer to you. "there's no need to apologize. I like what I see."

you couldn't believe what you were hearing. you were used to being teased and mocked for your flat chest, but satoru seemed genuinely interested in you. before you could say anything else, he leaned down and captured your lips in a heated kiss.

his hands roamed over your body, exploring every inch of your skin. you couldn't help but moan against his lips, melting into his touch. satoru seemed to know exactly what he was doing, his hands finding all your sensitive spots and driving you crazy with desire.

he broke the kiss, trailing his lips down your neck and collarbone, leaving a trail of hot kisses in his wake. You couldn't help but let out a soft gasp as he reached your chest, his fingers teasing your nipples to hardness.

He pulled back, looking at you with a devilish smirk. "you're so responsive. I can't wait to see how you react to my touch."

and with that, he dropped to his knees, his mouth latching onto your nipple. The sensation was overwhelming, sending shivers down your spine. you couldn't hold back your moans any longer, your hands tangling in satoru's wet hair as the water runs down to your heated bodies, he sucked and licked at your chest, giving them the attention they deserve.

it wasn't until Satoru pulled back, a satisfied smirk on his face, that you realized he had seen your flat chest. you braced yourself for the teasing and mocking, but to your surprise, Satoru merely leaned in and whispered in your ear, "You're perfect just the way you are."

and with that, he stood up and pulled you in for a passionate kiss, his hands roaming over your body once again. You felt a surge of confidence wash over you, feeling desired and wanted for the first time in a long time.

satoru led you to your bedroom, and the two of you fell on your bed in a tangle of limbs and passion. He didn't hold back, showing you just how much he desired you. he whispered dirty words in your ear, "good, fucking girl" he murmurs, his fingers finding all your sensitive spots and driving you crazy with pleasure.

you had never felt so much pleasure, satoru was dominant and in control, yet he made sure to worship every inch of your body, making you feel like the most beautiful person in the world rather the most perfect person in the whole entire universe.

as you both reached the peak of pleasure, satoru held you close, his lips pressed against your forehead. And in that moment, you knew that he accepted you for who you were, flaws and all. And that was all that mattered.

"goodness, your tits drives me crazy, girl!" he says plopping his body to your side catching his uneven breath.

a/n: i enjoyed writing this, cause as a woman with a flat ass chest...this is just mwaa! this is also self indulgent :p

tags: @lillywillypeepiepopilly

(if you want to get tagged just comment down below!)

[a-force-dyad-in-space]

So I've been rewatching the Twilight movies and certain scenes from them recently, and there's something that caught my eye while going through the post-battle scene in Eclipse.

We have Jane and the others show up, being like "blah blah blah, you guys did pretty well against all these newborns, how curious, blah blah" before Jane notices that one of the newborns is still alive, pointing out Bree.

Now, here's where it gets interesting for me. Because Jasper immediately moves and stands next to her protectively.

And yeah, sure, he's the newborn expert, he's in charge of all-things newborn vampires, so in that sense alone it makes sense for him to associate himself with her in that way, but I think it's a lot more than that; namely something that is always mentioned in passing in the movies, but never really pointed out as something significant (unlike Edward's telepathy and Alice's precognition, which are always mentioned first in terms of desirable acquisitions of power). I of course speak of his pathokinesis.

Bree is scared. At this point she has realized that she's a vampire and what that means for her life, but she has no idea if she will come out of this stand-off alive, so naturally, she is nervous.

And thanks to his pathokinesis, of course Jasper can feel that. So I think he's standing with her, almost protectively, not just because he's in charge of her, but because he can feel her fear and tries to comfort her with his presence (she with her vampire sight can of course see that his skin is decked out in scars, so that intimidating display alone probably tells her him being on her side is a good thing).

And then we come to Jane starting to torture Bree, and me having another observation.

When she falls to the ground and is screaming in agony, we can assume that Jasper can feel that, too (not the pain itself, but the mental anguish connected to it). And look how startled he seems when he sees her fall and looks from Bree to Jane.

This moment here makes me think that this is probably the first time he's ever seen Jane's power in person. Of course he knew about her, knew what her powers are. Alice probably filled him in in detail about the events in Volterra from New Moon, and I assume Carlisle has shared many stories over the years, too.

But hearing about something and actually seeing it first-hand are two very different things.

For someone like him, who can feel what other people are feeling, from their happiest moments to their most devastating mental pain, watching Jane not only use her powers, but relish in their effect without a second thought since she can't feel the pain she's causing, must be absolutely nauseating, for lack of a better word.

Jasper's experienced several lifetimes of anguish by proximity and is trying his best to make others feel better, while Jane deals blow after blow with her powers without any consequence. It must feel wrong and unfair to him.

Anyway, back to the point.

This is the face of a man who has fully realized what the antagonistic force is capable of, and he'll be sure to be prepared, next time they cross paths.

And lastly, something sad.

He turns his back on Bree, probably because he can't deal with watching her die on top of feeling her fear and pain. Neither he nor the other Cullens can stop Bree's death from happening without declaring war on the Volturi in the process (because I'm certain that's how Jane and the others would see their push-back).

So all he can do is turn away, and maybe make an effort to lessen her pain (it doesn't look like he did, but I think it would make sense if he used his powers to make death less frightening for Bree).

Anyway, rest in peace, Bree, you would have made a wonderful addition to the Cullen family. ♥

[kakiastro]

Astrology Observations: Aries Edition

Aries Suns actually have no problems expressing themselves because the sun is exalted in this sign. Contrary to the belief, Aries Suns aren’t really that hot headed. They’re actually pretty chill because they’re in there natural element. They don’t mind going there with you and cuss you out if you pushed them enough. They may end up having children who are very active , hot tempered or very independent.

Aries Moons are the hot tempered ones lol. There anger is soo intense chile, yall remind me of taz from loony toons. The crazy part, yall tempers come quickly but it goes away just as quick. They may come from families that’s always in some type of conflict. They can be very Emotionally impulsive if they haven’t learned to deal with it in a healthy way. Some sort of physical activity like boxing can help, gotta let off that steam.

Aries risings- truly embodies the energy of Mars. I notice every Aries rising has a prominent head and it’s shaped like a helmet, no shade yall😅. Yall heads remind me of a warrior helmet. Aries rules the head too. Aries , especially in there youth was always the leader in a group. Usually the front man or the one who always steps up to call the shots! Lawd, don’t let a Capricorn be in the group lol, 2 leaders right there😅 maybe it’s just me but Aries rising are always hot no matter the temperature lol. Yall don’t like to wear that many clothes either, if you can walk naked , you would 😅

Aries Mercury folks got into lots of trouble as a youth due to having a smart mouth 😆. They may have struggled with superiority especially with male teachers growing up. Could be the oldest sibling or the sibling that takes control. Aries can be brutally honest but their tone can get them into trouble. They love sports or muscle cars and prefer to drive them.

Aries Venus fall in and out of love to easily. They love hard at first but get bored too quickly! They need to learn to slow down savior in the connection. They go all in too fast and their candlelight goes out. One they learn to slow down and take in the connection, they can have a long term relationship. These are some ride or die lovers, they guard you with their life. They don’t play when it comes to there lover.

Aries Mars thrives better when they are physically involved into whatever they’re interested in. They’re very much hands on type of people! If it involves creating something from scratch, they love it even more! They’re dominant lovers in the bed and not afraid to show you a thing or two. They’re just as intense in the bedroom as scorpios but there is more fiery.

Aries Jupiter people manifesting prayers can come quickly!! I also notice people with this placement loves traveling to very active, hot places.

Aries Saturn people master their identity as they get older. At some point you stop carrying about the societal pressures and you start living life. Also every decision you make affects you long term.

Aries NN are breaking away from the “I’ll be a good teammate” to “okay so as your leader, here’s the plan.” This is a lifelong lesson so you’ll get there.

Aries SN are born soldiers in this lifetime, they may have scars or a noticeable birthmark on them that stands out.

Asteroid Juno Aries people will have such a busy marriage life. Your partner and you will always be doing something together! Yall will be the hot couple too. You may end up married quickly in your relationship as well.

Asteroid Pallas Aries get there greatest ideas when they are moving around. Pallas is known as the “genius “ asteroid.

[little-annie]

T | 1,415 WC | Ao3

Light's streaming in through the white linen curtains, golden and glowing, illuminating their bedroom in a familiar warmth. 

It's a Sunday morning. Sometime between 9am and noon, neither of them has bothered to check the time, because that's all they have this morning; time. Time to hold each other in the silence and comfort of their home, time to bask in the warmth and the sun and the heat radiating between their bare bodies. Time to take in every fibre of the other's being. The freckles, the moles, the scars and slowly ageing wrinkles.

Steve's on his back, arm wrapped around Eddie's shoulder while the man lays with his chin on Steve's chest. Blankets are lazily draped around their bodies, nothing much left to the imagination in the comfort of their own home. Feet brush and thighs touch, bodies pressed so close together that they may as well be one.

Hands move slowly, fingertips tracing mindless circles over bare skin. Circles and words, Eddie drawing constellations over the smattering of beauty marks across Steve's body.

It's pure and it's beautiful. It's routine. 

Sunday's are meant for love, in the purest most beautiful form. Sunday's are meant for silent words, gentle touches and soft kisses. Sundays are meant to be flooded with light and love and quiet gasps against kiss bitten lips.

Sunday's are meant for them. 

Sundays are meant for the moments that they look into each other's tired eyes and whisper the familiar but forever beautiful, "I love you."

And this time when Eddie says it and Steve answers with a press of his nose and lips to Eddie's forehead, repeating the words back to him, Eddie can't help but to think of the many Sundays before.

Of days within recent years spent in each other's arms, tangled together in an ethereal web of warmth and affection. Of days that have come and gone but are no less meaningful in their familiarity.

He also thinks of how something so beautiful, so pure, so powerful can't possibly be contained to a single lifetime. That with Steve's heartbeat against his fingertips and skin against his own, that this can't possibly be the only lifetime they've loved one another.

And then he looks over the freckles and moles and beauty marks dotted over his lover's body. He recalls some saying about lovers and lifetimes and how every discoloured speckle of skin is the proof of past affections. 

He can't help but think he's left every last one that dots Steve's form.

Slowly, Eddie moves, subtle, pressing his lips against the spots on Steve's chest. He thinks, maybe in that lifetime they found each other sooner, didn't endure the hardships of hell or life on earth, that maybe they were young and grew old together; much like he hopes they do in this lifetime. 

He moves again, pressing his lips to Steve's shoulder, three kisses for three dots of darkened skin. He can't help but imagine a life in a different time, out and free to love in a rather harsh world. In a world of Cowboys and Bandits; The Wild West. In a world of recklessness and cruelty, in a world where boys kissing boys is the least of everyone's problems.

He kisses his way up Steve's neck, to his favourite pair of freckles, hoping he leaves a mark of his own in this lifetime. Three dots, Orion's belt, courage and strength and a light in the sky.

Then he feels the vibration of Steve's laughter against his lips, soft and quiet, though it radiates through Eddie's body all the same.

"What're you doing?" Steve whispers past his silent laughter, one hand holding Eddie's bare waist while the other buries itself in messy, knotted curls.

Eddie smiles, kisses his way up to the freckle on Steve's jaw and answers simply, "Loving you."

Steve hums as if Eddie's answer is good enough. Eddie noses against Steve's cheek while he whispers against olive skin, "What're you doing?" 

He can feel Steve smile beneath him, the movement of the muscles in his face, subtle as he quietly answers back, "Letting you love me."

The moments so pure Eddie can feel the sting of tears in his eyes and mass of emotions swelling in his throat. 

It took them a while to get here, to be able to share this love and accept it with ferocity. Steve had been hesitant at first and for a long while; the way of his family, beaten into him as a child. Eddie's not proud of it, but it was one of their first arguments, the way Steve wouldn't let himself be loved. He'd yelled and he screamed, trying to drive home all of the reasons why Steve was worthy of such affections.

The argument had somehow settled them in a moment not far off from this, several hours later, in an apartment they continue to call home, Eddie whispering around silent slowly falling tears, "Let me love you Sweetheart."

And since then, he has.

Eddie continues to kiss every speckled inch of Steve's body, receiving a gentle hand through his hair, a hum or a kiss of his own in response.

Now settled on his stomach, body wedged between Steve's thighs, his hands crossed over his lover's navel and chin resting over his own knuckles, Eddie whispers, "I don't think I've ever stopped loving you."

Steve only raises his brow, Eddie's words not 100% making sense.

Eddie smiles, sweet and gentle, cheeks tinting pink as he speaks, "I mean, I feel like I've loved you a million lifetimes before,-" he kisses the freckle not more than an inch from where his hand lies, "-and these, I believe emphasise my point." 

He moves, pressing himself forward, pushing his toes into the mattress to reach another dot of darkened skin, "Like this guy right here, I'm sure I've kissed this spot many times before." Eddie moves again, reaching for Steve's hand and laying a kiss to his knuckles, "and this spot. Maybe you were a Prince in a past lifetime, our love hidden in the shadows and the only affections I could show were the ones of greeting."

Steve smiles, giggles a little while he cups Eddie's cheek, brushing a thumb over the fading scar beneath his eye. Eddie can't help but lean into the touch.

It's quiet for a moment, heartbeats and the sound of steady breaths are the only thing in the air, then eyes holding Eddie's, Steve speaks, quiet, shy as he touches a freckle that's gone unloved in the last hour, "How about this one?"

Eddie moves to kiss the aforementioned freckle, pressing his lips to Steve's waist, "I think I remember that one," he says, "we were old, grey and weathering, the sky was dark and the sound of rain was beating against the roof. We'd moved to a cabin, out by some lake, spending our days in the nature and the silence. You let me take you on the kitchen table-" 

Steve interrupts with a snicker at that, saying, "I thought we were old."

"Oh hush, I'm telling you a story-'' Eddie pokes Steve's cheek, moving, situating himself laying how he was when the thought of love throughout lifetimes came to mind, then he continues, fingers circling over Steve's chest, "We were old, but that doesn't mean I couldn't love you. I kissed every inch of your body that night, much like I am now. Each soft embrace punctuated with the presses of my hips or the thunder in the sky. I told you of all the reasons you were loved, of all the times we'd spent together. It was a beautiful thing you know, the way we moved together, I think you may have even cried."

And maybe he expected that to make Steve laugh, but from the spot he's pressed against the man's chest, Eddie hears a sniffle, quiet, trying to go unnoticed. He pulls himself up, a gentle kiss to Steve's salt stained lips, a single silent tear rolling down his cheek and it's then that Steve whispers against the embrace, "I think you're wrong Eds, I don't think that one's happened yet."

Eddie can't help the wet laugh that falls between them, his lips pressing into Steve's with a ferocity as he thinks, "yet," like sometime in the future that scene is bound to unfold. Though he can only hope, it's on a Sunday in this lifetime.

[catboymoments]

I know I’ve talked about this before, mostly on Twitter, but when people talk about the possibilities of or the allegories in the show of Hunter being a csa victim at the hands of Belos, many peoples responses are somewhere along the lines of “Belos wouldn’t do that! He’s a colonizer but he’s not THAT evil!” And it’s like.

Number one, that’s one of the big things that colonizers DO when it comes to their destruction, number two, it’s evident that people w those responses are coming from a place of thinking colonization is somehow a lesser evil. Something less close to home than SA is- when in fact it still happens, and people alive today are still affected by colonization. They go hand in hand. And not only is he a colonizer, he is a Christianity-adjacent religious figurehead, a group of people notorious for being perpetrators of SA.

Another thing I’ve seen is people responding with “but the Grimwalkers are clones of his brother, he wouldn’t feel that way towards him.”

SA is not about love. It’s about control and violence. It’s about doing harm. He clearly had no qualms about killing his brother or desecrating his corpse to create Grimwalkers, so why would that be “too far?” Belos has shown time and time again that nothing is too far for him, he’s not above anything.

Lastly when people question where the headcanon even came from, it’s mostly with victims seeing themselves in Hunter, seeing patterns, and for me it’s mostly the allegorical implications of the possession. Someone taking control of your body and making you do things you don’t want to do? Rot inside you leaving scars, physical or metaphorical, that last? That violation is all too familiar.

Idk. I just have a lot of thoughts about it and seeing people immediately jump to “oh if you have this headcanon then you’re clearly a weirdo who secretly gets off to it” is such. A disservice? And disrespectful even? Calling this facet of trauma “too much” or “too taboo” does nothing to help real life victims and survivors, and in fact it makes them feel like they can’t talk about it at all. One in five people have been victims of csa in their lifetime, think about that the next time you go to a grocery store. Abuse is abuse, and seeing familiarities in fiction shouldn’t be written off as perverse just because of the nature of it. Idk.

[priincebutt]

His fingers clench around the brass railing that encompasses the statue, and he tries to remember fleeting things, moments from lifetimes long since gone, but his brain refuses to dredge up the memories that aren’t core; there are too many of them for that, and now only so many come forth when he calls for them.

He’s trying to remember details about his family, who are long dead and gone, trying to remember anything but the heartbreak and the loneliness of losing them – but it’s futile. Just as he’s about to turn and leave, to let this past part of him go to make room for new lifetimes that open up before him, his eyes catch on a halo of curls and warm brown eyes that light up with the smile on the young man’s lips. And – 

Oh.

Henry’s heart feels as if it plummets into his stomach. His vision narrows to a pinprick, and all he can see is this man, a man Henry’s never seen before but has become the very sun he orbits around in the span of seconds. Henry’s heart is racing, and his breath hitches in his chest where one hand has come to rest, rubbing idly at his collarbone and the old scar there. His eyes trace down the man’s form, well-cut and outlined against the bright white walls of the museum that he’s standing against, and stop as his breath seizes when he sees it –

There’s a tattoo on the man’s right forearm.

Some Part of Me Came Alive, a soulmates au written by priincebutt, podfic by @schitthappens

[sandiavolo]

Ash Na'vi Spider AU Concepts (Pt. 1)

Warning: slight body horror, scars, healed injuries

a.k.a, a bit of a sneak preview at at what we'll be diving into very soon in the next chapter of my fanfic, As the Ash Cloud Passes Over, which is centered around Pandora's very own native human child being taken in by the Ash Na'vi at a young age🔥

THE CONSTANT WARRIOR (AND HIS SCARS)

(Drawing credit goes to @anka-partizanka-from-pandora 💙💙💙)

To commemorate the mystical ability of Anka's storytelling-through-art, I want to discuss a big upcoming topic for my story: Spider having scars whilst part of the Ash Na'vi.

To recap for some, ATACPO follows a world where a very young Spider was found and absorbed into the desolate clan of the Txepìva, the Ash Clan. Where the Tayrangi are masterful ikran riders, and the Aranahe are known for their skills in weaving, I thought to make it where the Ash Na'vi are proficient in the art of war.

At the first break of childhood, any normal Ash Na'vi trains beyond what their body allows. And even then, they will only train harder. B/c that last practice swing, or tiring spar between a clanmate could truly be the difference between life and death where they come from. With that, there will definitely be plenty of hardships along the way.

Case in point, every single person of the Txepìva carries a wound of sorts.

Whether it is the byproduct of a harsh training or a small dispute between your peers (children, teens), the ongoing war with their longtime enemy, the Metka'yina (adults), or even the mark of wounds that can foretell ones entire lifetime (more aged Na'vi), no other Na'vi Clan share as many scars as the Ash Na'vi do. But they are viewed as more. To them, scars are seen as one's abilty to fight, their abilty to struggle & protect, and testify to how they stood strong against a foe that likely went for their neck. To the Ash Na'vi, scars are more than abided, they are regarded as a testimony of inner strength.

Then comes in a young Spider, who is finally cherished for his blemished skin (even when it is tan instead of gray).

When he first drops by unannounced, Spider has unfortunately already accumulated his fair share of scars (as seen above), a key story to his growth into one of the Ash. By then, the human's self-esteem is already shot to pieces. He's used to the way those of the Omaticaya regarded his human skin with disgust. Now, he thinks he's gotten even uglier with his deformed skin. This scary Clan he's discovered, however, does not see it that way.

When the Ash Na'vi first behold the tiny human, they see a lost soul grieviously tortured by his upbringing (a once-bright spirit now a dwindling ember). They are then told his story (told with years of buried anguish and trauma) and hear how he suffered under the name of his long-dead father. How it prevented him from being one of The People. It's enough to break even the strongest of spirits entirely.

And yet, to see Spider with them now, means he not only lived through it all, but he survived. They see it as him managing to crawl out of the pit of despair he was thrown in. Like a true warrior, he fought against the shadows of his mind, and heart. To see one as young as well, have lived such a life, softens even the heart of the Ash Olo'eykte, Varang. And that just makes him a absolute shoe-in for a type of Clan that knows what its like to live through the dark side of Na'vi history.

When the Sully's first see them while on Awa'atlu though, they are blown away and aghast at the sheer sight of them. It hurts to see how their old friend has been through so much. It also puts Spider on edge, which then puts the entire clan on edge, b/c they absolutely despise it when Spider thinks he looks anything but magnificent and beautiful in his own skin.

This has been such an absolutely compelling aspect of the story to me, one I cannot wait to share. To not just write this AU, but to write it from the perspective of Spider, is absolutely baffling. But I hope you guys can enjoy what I have to offer. I'm alwasy open to any ideas/comments/thougts 💙 Ciao, y'all!

Disclaimer: The Txepìva Clan, as well as all individual Ash Na'vi, are of my own creation in this story. It is non-canon compliant to the events of Avatar: The Way of Water (2022). It is somewhat of a darker and unique twist to my fav character, Miles "Spider" Socorro, being part of his own Clan, as well as gaining a mother and siblings. Check it out on AO3!

[quietlyimplode]

ignite your bones

After the fall of General Dreykov, and the remnants of the Red Room still at large, Natasha first year at SHIELD is anything but healing. Labeled a traitor and a turncoat, Natasha tries to find her footing in a strange new world.

Whumptober 2024: Day 10 - I can’t think straight

Warnings: therapy talk of dissociation, red room discussion, talk of forced birth/pregnancy (but not described or graphic)

Word Count: 2k (gif not mine)

Summary: Natasha talks to the therapist who reveals secrets of their own.

Masterlist

Whumptober Masterlist

.

Olivia waits.

She itches the scar on her elbow absentmindedly.

She feels her guard go up as Natasha enters; the woman still handcuffed as they go through the rigmarole of uncuffing her and then sitting in silence.

Natasha doesn’t look at her.

Sharp eyes stare straight ahead.

They both know what’s coming.

“What do you want?” she opens, knowing the question will provoke her.

They’ve been at this for weeks.

It doesn’t always start like this. Sometimes it’s making sure Natasha’s not so dissociated that she can function through the day and the time in between.

Sometimes it’s touching on small things she’s said in debrief.

Provoking her, it’s not the point of the exercise.

The woman is barely holding it together, anyone who looks closely enough can see it.

They just have to want to.

No one in Shield has Natasha’s best interests in mind.

All they want is her information; her intelligence.

Olivia knows how it feels to be a defector.

The world is against her.

Natasha has to want to choose something for herself.

She knows this.

She wants Natasha to make a choice, any choice for herself.

The difficulty is that she has a lifetime of being told her voice doesn’t matter.

Natasha looks down at her hands, no words coming.

Olivia waits.

The dissociation that comes with asking hard, self reflecting questions is written on Natasha’s face.

She knows how it is; not being able to think straight.

She wonders how much to push today, how much to disclose and what to focus on.

With no answer forthcoming, she side steps.

“If I were to ask you, how you are, what would you say?”

Eyes look away, glancing at the time.

“Fine.”

The answer is curt.

“Have you been sleeping?”

“Yes.”

“Liar.”

Natasha shifts in her seat.

“And if I were to ask you to pretend to be me, and tell me how you seem, what would you say?”

Natasha is quiet.

“I don’t know.”

Olivia pauses.

Natasha watches her closely.

“Do you ever get tired, of battling the old you? The you that’s still stuck in the Red Room, controlled by someone else?”

Natasha looks taken aback, defensive and angry at the statement but Olivia continues anyway.

“I can see it, I see how hard you’re fighting, neither the old you or this version of yourself succeeding; I can see how exhausted you are.”

The room is so quiet.

Natasha’s eyes are intent, breathing shallowly, waiting the next blow of words.

“You made the decisions to put yourself here. So answer me.”

The next words are punctuated.

“What do you want?”

Natasha feels that she could say something profound, something about wanting to live or to be able to take back her life.

But she can’t decide that yet.

She hasn’t decided that yet.

Life has a funny way of deciding things for her and she sits passive on the wave.

Natasha glances up.

Eyes locking onto the scar on her arm, so many things fit into place.

“How did you get out?”

Olivia smiles.

She’d wondered if Natasha knew and how long it would take her to ask.

She straightens her arm.

The mark of her first kill, still present even after all these years. She dug in too hard with her knife, the self loathing in that moment providing a mark for life.

“For every breakdown, there’s a breakthrough. I would like to say that it was easy. That I did it myself, but we both know that’s a lie. People died to get me out. I wasn’t sure if it was what I wanted but I couldn’t dishonour their sacrifice. For a long time, I looked like you do now. Scared and tired. Like the world just needs to stop, to get your bearings.”

Olivia takes a sip of her water, aware of the eyes that watch her every movement now, that analyse her being.

“But it does get better.”

She looks at Natasha, her gaze fierce until Natasha cannot hold the intensity.

Fingers clench and release and Olivia models a breath.

“I can tell you the story, but first,” she pauses.

“Tell me something you want.”

“I want to know how Maria knew my birthday,” she whispers, looking up and expecting the woman to be laughing at her.

The conversation that had occurred all those months ago, still plays in Natasha’s mind. The insinuation that someone knew more about herself than she did, made nights sleepless and haunting. She hated Maria for it, and Shield in turn.

The hatred had abated somewhat, but still simmered under the surface.

After all they had given her, she wanted something for it; even though she had no rights to ask.

Olivia looks at her seriously, there’s no hint of a laugh or a smile.

“Good Natasha. That’s good.”

And the praise feels like a calming balm, honeyed words that rip into her.

Natasha pushes the feelings aside, and stares expectantly at her, wanting the story she’d promised.

Olivia glances at the time.

“Olivia was not always my name, I was not what you see now.”

“I was on a mission to Salta. Argentina is everything you expect it to be, beautiful and if you know the underworld, dangerous.”

Like all widows, Olivia knows how to tell a story.

Natasha reflects on it momentarily before getting lost in the thoughts and feelings of the words that emanate.

She wonders if they all know how, because of the necessity of stories in the Red Room, or because it was the only way to pass the time.

She redirects her attention, back to the present and not to the image of the girls in her dormitory sitting hands cuffed on their beds telling ghost stories about the monsters in the basement that would eat little girls.

“It was my first mission without handlers, and I got captured.”

Natasha’s heart sinks.

“I escaped, of course, a filed down spoon slices throats just as easily as a knife if you know how to use it. But,”

Olivia sighs, “they didn’t believe that I didn’t give anything up. In those days, the Red Room was still a secret, Russia’s own little experimental trojan, to get captured was tantamount to death. But all the money they invested in me. They couldn’t kill me. I was … retired.”

The memory of the pain of hot irons on the soles of her feet makes her swallow.

“After everything; they didn’t trust me. So they had another use for me. Widows, when retired, were forced to have children, to start the next generations of Widows. This was, of course, before they realised that women and girls were more easily trafficked than spending money on maternal health care, if they wanted them to live.”

Olivia frowns, knowing she’s speaking too much.

“Salta taught me two things. One; the way I was raised was not normal. It should be obvious, but sometimes stating that out loud helped, and two, I didn’t want to be that person; I didn’t want to be their killer and certainly not… that.”

The implications of reproductive coercion was something Olivia had nightmares about. Even after all these years.

“So, I found a way out. I killed and maimed to do it. I lived in limbo, until I found someone who I could trust, and they bought me here.”

She takes a breath and looks at Natasha.

It’s simplistic.

Natasha hates her for not telling her the whole story.

The growing pangs of hunger for information just starting to take seeds as she realises the implications of Olivia being a Black Widow.

The things she could ask, the answers she could get.

Breathing stops as her mind moves a thousand miles a minute.

What does she want?

She wants to know more. She wants a real answer to her question.

Natasha feels herself lean back, unaware that her posture had leaned forward to hear all the information.

“I’ll answer your questions Natasha, but don’t ask me about this again.”

There’s a pause.

“I agreed to be your psychiatrist because of shared life experience, but I understand that if this blurs lines. If you do not want me to be your therapist, you can tell Clint, and he’ll sort out another for you.”

Olivia’s pragmatics takes Natasha a minute to sort through.

It’s the contrary of what she’s saying. If anyone understands her here, it’s the woman sitting in front of her.

The room’s silence does not feel uncomfortable.

“Maria knows your birthday because Shield has a dossier on you.”

Natasha knows this, she’d deduced it herself.

“The information they have is from a bug I’d placed in the systems of the red room. There’s a dossier on all the girls. The bug is dead now, the information outdated, but perhaps, if we can get you cleared, you can give us updates on some of the other girls.”

Natasha eyes widen.

Her chest constricts as she thinks of Yelena.

In that one moment, she pushes the thought away, the pain hitting her chest and making her even more breathless.

She’s dead.

She couldn’t survive the atrocities of the red room, nor would she have wanted her too.

She nods, remembering to breathe.

“Yes,” she replies slowly, “I want that.”

Olivia writes something on a post it note.

“What else?”

Natasha is truthful in her reply, wondering what it will cost her.

“I want to help.”

.

Fury stares; his face unreadable.

“She was going to find out eventually,” Olivia argues.

“By giving her a purpose, you’re helping her become something more than an informant, you’re helping her to become someone who could, in theory, become your greatest asset.”

Angrily, she continues.

“It’s not just about purpose, yes, she has purpose for you, whilst she’s feeding you information, but what happens when that information runs out? What then? Are you just going to let her rot in a cell? Even you can see the waste in that.”

Olivia calms herself, resets and looks him in his eye.

“What do you foresee happening? What does Thompson or the World Security Council see happening? You brought her here because Barton couldn’t kill her and saw promise of a defector that could do more for us than just die. You agreed to let her live and use Shield resources because of the abundance of information - she’s held up her end - and at cost to her, do you know just how much?”

Olivia is angry, Fury starts talking but she’s not done.

“You don’t know, you can’t know, just how hard she must have fought to reveal information. Words like that in the Red Room… to speak so freely… she would have been tortured; I think she expects to be, probably still waiting for the other shoe to drop.”

Olivia waits and Fury raises an eyebrow.

“Are you done?” he asks, voice low.

“I knew she would find out eventually, or that you would tell her. I think we all knew. I don’t disagree with you, the timelines though, are not ideal.”

He looks at her in thought.

“Design a mission for her. One that will give us our answers of if she has truly defected or not. Design it so there is no doubt that she is on our side. Then, and only then can we start training her like one of our own, trusting her, like we trust you.”

The words hold meaning.

Shield has never fully trusted her.

She laughs in derision but nods anyway.

A plan forms in her mind.

She thinks she knows what Natasha wants, she wants a reason to keep fighting. A reason to keep going that doesn’t leave her empty when she’s done.

Barton had started all this.

“Fine, but Barton is allowed to go with her.”

The manipulation starts slow, slow enough that she knows Fury won’t catch it until he’s deep in her web. He’ll hate her for it, but she can’t find it within herself to care.

Shield is not the safe place she knew.

She leans back on the chair, and Fury nods curtly.

“Fine.”

Olivia sits for a moment before standing.

“Don’t fail,” he tells her as she walks out the door.

“We never do,” replies the Widow, lost in her own thoughts.

.

(Did you catch it before this fic? Little reveals. Little secrets. <3 as always comments and likes/reblogs are <3)

[eatmangoesnekkid]

Heartbreak is a natural human response to being hurt in your heart by a person, a system, or an experience. In other words, being in the experience of heartbreak, whether conscious or unconscious, is not "wrong" or "bad." But what's interesting is that heartbreak is not discussed enough in traditional healing spaces yet it is one of the greatest blockages that inhibit the flow of love and moving beyond a survival state. Healing the unresolved heartbreak lingering in your aura/electromagnetic field can be achieved when you spend some quality time in celibacy loving on yourself and preparing your body for intimacy with a new lover (lots of slow baths, slowing down, time in nature, grounding, journaling, cooking your own food, and the like) so that you when you start to date again, you lead with more self-love and self-worth, and not with heartbreak, fear, insecurity, or repression. You must have compassionate time with yourself to dearmour your heart from living through a deep state of trauma which is what heartbreak is. We don't realize that heartbreak is a healthy trauma response to experiencing emotional, physical or spiritual pain but the trauma of it that has to be unwind and released or it can easily impact our breast tissues over time. The heart and the breasts sit closely together for many incredible nourishing reasons. However, what happens to the heart naturally has impact on the breasts. It is also important to note that heartbreak could have happened recently in this lifetime or past ones from your mother line where the unconscious heartbreak you emanate is a kind of karma to be dissolved and released. Lightheartedness then becomes one of your most dominant frequencies that can speed up "time" into a quantum leap. Most people have no idea the level of pyschic trauma, wounding, war, and fear (and love) I was born into and grew up in because I do not walk around in the world with an aura of heartbreak or in patterns of self-loathing, self-doubt, or self-hate. Healing the scar tissue of my heartbreak allowed me to see that my body and life held real value. We were always designed to be Gods, you see. To get our hearts broken and still live and thrive in our beautiful breasts and magical pussies. To fuck the dumb ass narcissist we should have never called back and allow that moment of bad sex to refine our character. To experience a smorgasbord of hardships and still come fully alive in our bodies and in this life. We are here to be Divine creators, you see. We get to make mistakes, take u-turns, and experience the magic, beauty, and harmony in figuring it all out. -India Ame'ye, Author

[susitseart]

Blink of an eye.

Equal with lifetime.

(See and read all!)

It all goes by so fast.

That’s why I’m scared to blink again.

Time. It doesn’t mean anything. Or we can’t really know if it means anything. For time is something that our predecessors have defined sometime long ago. A long time ago, when the idea of everything being metrizable was recognized.

And that’s how we’ve come to know time. Countable seconds or decades. But before as an attribute that shows the limitation of life. Of how everything goes forward. Regardless of what we want.

How one day we’re here and one day we will be gone.

But accepting this law of nature is perhaps not the worst or scariest thing. No. It’s how quickly everything moves forward.

Everything. We and our lives as well.

Like in the blink of an eye. Therefore, the blink of an eye is equal to the length of a lifetime.

It’s not long since we were born here. Innocent, albeit against our will.

It’s not long since we were children without worries.

It’s not long since we were happy. It’s not long since we were hurt.

And today. In this moment, we are what time and life have made us.

It may be that we only realize it now. What we have become.

What about in the future? What will we be tomorrow or years from now? None of us can know that. But each of us will find out soon enough. Perhaps sooner than we would like.

That’s why, maybe one day in the future, we will wake up again. To see how the weeks and years have passed us by again. To how life and time have changed us again.

That’s when, again, we start counting. On how much time we still have left.

That’s why I wish. Oh, how I wish.nThat I could prevent my eyes ever blinking again.

It doesn’t matter if it hurts. It doesn’t matter if I have to beg time for mercy.

Because I want to see every moment of my short life.

Both happy and painful.

Because deep down I’m scared. Of where and what kind of I’ll find myself next time.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Are you scared of how fast time goes by?

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

I'm scared. Not often, because in every way I fight to be able to live in the moment. But still, from time to time I wake up to see it. To notice where time and life have brought me. To worry about whether I have lived my short life as fully as I should have. To Regret knowing that I have not.

That's why I hope time would give me and others like me some mercy. So that we could enjoy time and the moments it brings along with everything else we’re dealing with. Along with everything else we have to survive in our lives.

Because many of us are just trying to survive. About how we may have been bound in the name of love sometime long ago. About how we might have been hurt sometime long ago. From all of this we still carry the darkness and the scars that still keep consuming us.

In those moments of being bound or in pain, I, and I'm sure many others, wished that time would just pass. Go by quickly.

To end.

So that we would end too. So that we wouldn’t need to suffer a moment longer.

When we needed it the most. Or now when we need. That's when time seems to pass slower than ever.

It feels that way. But in reality, even in these moments, time passes just as quickly as before.

And that's what's so comforting, in our darkest moments. How limited our time here is after all. The way everything ends. Everything. Even our pain. One way or another. Whether we in the moment believe it or not.

With this comforting thought, we can find the strength to live our lives. To find those moments of happiness between our moments of pain. When we again want to beg for time to slow down.

So we could see all the small and big miracles that life has meant for us.

[sunandflame]

Flame and Water, Chapter 12

Ship & Trope: Kyojuro x Fem!Reader (Water Pillars Tsuguko) / Slowburn

Warnings: canon-typical violence / fluff / mention of trauma and fire

Word Count: 1880 Words

pinterest board of Flame and Water

crossposted on AO3

Masterlist of Flame and Water

The old lady's statements opened many questions for Kyojuro. Even when he said goodbye to her, he brooded over her words, but came to no conclusion. He was confused and a little hurt. Didn't you two trust each other that day so you kept something that important from him? Why were you hiding it? He thought that you were both close friends. He couldn't answer the question and would ask you about it later when you were feeling better. First, he had to talk to his father. He needed to know what had happened back then.

He entered the room where his father spent the most of his time and didn’t see him lying on his futon for the first time in years. Usually, he was either drinking and laying sideways while reading in that book but now he sat on the engawa, and his eyes were staring into the distance. Respectful as Kyojuro was, he sat down on the tatami mat to keep a distance and just as he was about to open his mouth, Shinjuro interrupted him.

"Is your girlfriend okay?"

Kyojuro had not expected this question. She was not his girlfriend. In general, he hadn't expected his father to ask about anyone's wellbeing, but it looked like he was sober. "Yes, she's unconscious, but-"

"And her burns?"

Kyojuro's eyes widened at this statement, and it hit him like a slap. Even his father knew that crucial detail about you. His gaze dropped as he clenched his fists on his knees. "The old lady next door treated her. She said she will be fine and should wake up in the next hour or so. She also told me that Y/N has several old burns. Something you seem to know about, father."

Shinjuro turned his head sideways to give him a silent look, before he turned ahead again and sighed. "15 years ago, there was a fire demon who attacked a village. His eye bore the sign Lower Rank One. A powerful opponent who managed to spread a firestorm and turned countless people into demons. It was something I had never seen in my lifetime as a slayer."

Kyojuro swallowed and listened to his father's words. Lower Moon One? He remembered the fight he had against Lower Moon Two to become a Hashira and how he had terrorized a whole city with his bombs.

Shinjuro continued. "Your girlfriend looked at me the same way back then, full of fear and terror. Unfortunately, she witnessed how I beheaded her parents while protecting her. They had been turned into demons who wanted to eat their own daughter. I was able to decapitate the Lower Moon One… but at what cost? There was no one left to save. He had killed everyone without exception or turned them into demons which forced me to kill them all. Only she survived, but she ran away from me like I was the monster… I found her buried under a heap of rubble and wounded with the worst burns I have ever seen on a human being. Her chances of survival were slim and yet I wanted to save at least one person in this tragedy. The scale of the catastrophe was great, the village burned beyond recognition of its existence. Just as she bore her scars from it, I too have one from this fiery hell."

Shinjuro turned his foot around so Kyojuro could see the burned soles. "The demon slayer uniform protected me, the tabi socks didn't and yet I wished that I would be the one who's skin burned and not that of a little child. I can understand if she doesn't want to talk about it. It must have traumatized her badly. Even I-"

Suddenly a stifled sob sounded behind the shoji door. Father and son immediately turned their heads and knew that you had been listening to them the whole time behind the thin paper walls.

You had woken up alone and scared in a room with a headache. A penetrating herbal smell immediately hit your nose. An earlier memory from your childhood had come alive again and you knew immediately that you were covered with a burn ointment. A similar one that they used on you as a child. One quick look under your hakama and you saw the reddened skin. Your leg couldn't get any uglier than it already is, you thought dryly. You stepped out of the room and looked around for Kyojuro and couldn't see him until you heard his voice.

You stood there petrified and listened to the complete story of Shinjuro and your village. So that's why your memories were patchy without even knowing. There was simply no one left to tell you about it because they were all dead and your parents- Your breath caught and the memory of them coming at you with contorted faces came back with a bang. They- they tried to eat you! You hadn't even noticed how the tears flowed down your cheeks when a choked sob escaped you and you immediately covered your mouth with your hand. You looked in the direction of the shoji door in fear and hurried away with quick steps. You didn't want to be seen by them - not in this state - and entered the first room that you saw.

You dropped to the ground and cried uncontrollably. A heavy burden seemed to have been lifted from your shoulders and the unrestrained grief over the death of your family and friends overcame you. You finally knew the complete truth without knowing you were living a lie. You were not alone because you were avoided, but because you were brutally robbed of every person you ever knew.

With your head on your knees, you succumbed to your grief when you suddenly felt a presence next to you. You looked up with tear-stained eyes right into golden-red hues. Kyojuro's gaze contained no pity and yet they were filled with sadness and empathy for you. "Y/N..." He took your hand in his and pulled you up. "You are not alone in this. I won't allow that, so share your pain with me." If Kyojuro could, he would take all your pain to never see you cry again.

More tears gathered in your eyes until you couldn't see anything anymore. "K-Kyojuro-" With a sob, you threw yourself into his arms. He immediately wrapped his arms around you tightly, holding you in a fierce embrace.

You cried into the crook of his neck. It took a while for you to calm down, but that didn't matter, Kyojuro was here to hold you. His tight warm hug, it was like he gathered all the broken and burned pieces and made you whole again. Without realizing you nuzzled your face into the crook of his neck and took in his scent which sent you into a light buzz. His scent was warm like the ray of sunshine with an earthy undertone. It was so comforting for your senses that you wanted to nuzzle your nose more until you realized what you were about to do, but you didn't pull immediately away. Kyojuro’s grip on your yukata was so tight, his face buried also into your neck. It seemed like as he didn’t want let go of you, like he had to make sure you were still whole.

It took a while for the two of you to loosen your grip on each other. Very slowly you moved your heads apart but only to look deep into each other's eyes. Still in his embrace, you gazed into his beautiful golden red hues, which always radiated such a passionate optimism, but now seemed to have a gleam you had never seen in him before. A pleasant tingling spread through you, and you felt the looming tension between you. Without realizing your faces came closer until your lips met.

It was soft and chaste, fleeting - the touch of his lips hotter than you thought in the short moment you kissed. The butterflies in your stomach fluttered excitedly when you saw a hint of blush on his cheeks.

"I- apologize!"

"For what?"

"For touching you in such an inappropriate way!" His face was now completely red, and you could not help but start to giggle.

"I think it’s called a kiss, Kyojuro."

Mesmerized, he stared at your lips while you giggled. "Yeah, and I think I am going to do it again..."

He was about to bend down to give you another kiss when you quickly placed your finger on his lips. "W-Wait! What if someone just barges in here?" You looked around with a slight panic.

You heard his deep chuckle. "That is not going to happen, since this is my room."

“Oh,” was the only thing that left your lips. You looked around wide-eyed and indeed, it looked like it belonged to him. You just went into the next available room in such a hurry that you didn't even notice it, but on closer inspection it was obvious. It included the usual things a room needed. A futon to sleep, a chest of drawers and a picture of his family. But there was one thing- no two things that stood out. One was a small chest that seemed to hold writing stuff and the other was a hanging scroll where "protection" was written in a calligraphy. It was above his futon. The origin didn’t seem to be himself.

“Do you like it?”

You nodded and started to blush madly when you realized how intimate this situation actually was. You were here alone in Kyojuro’s room as the said man was still holding you.

He laughed his boisterous laugh, and you felt his laughter vibrate all over your body. Your blush was just so adorable that he couldn’t hold himself back and kissed your cheek. Another silent moment passed between you when you just looked into each other's eyes and then he suddenly shouted. “Y/N!” His face was red like a tomato. “I love you and I would be happy if you could become my girlfriend!”

His confession was bold and like a burning fire. He literally was the Flame Pillar as a slayer and in his private time. You smiled as you pulled him in for another kiss, holding his face in your hands. It was not a long and passionate kiss as this was the first one you ever shared in your life, that was followed by several others. Each of them was short and soft, feather light like the butterflies that were fluttering in your stomach. Each kiss had him sigh in delight, between each kiss you whispered how you loved him too, how much you wanted to be his, until you rested your head on his chest with closed eyes, and heard the strong and steady beat of his heart. You heard how excited he was that the feeling was mutual.

He noticed your exhaustion of the day and laid down on his futon, pulling you close in a comfortable and comforting embrace. You nuzzled your face into his chest, the symbol of protection over both of your heads, and you indeed felt protected for the first time in your life in the embrace of a Flame.

🌊 🔥🌊 🔥🌊 🔥🌊 🔥🌊 🔥🌊 🔥🌊 🔥🌊 🔥🌊 🔥🌊 🔥

Big thanks to my lovely friend @desi-the-blue-eyed-kakushi for beta reading and editing❤️) As some might have realized that the story is close to the end. Chapter 13 will be the last and then there comes an epilog. I hope you will stay tuned till the epilog. And again I am open for discussions and critique. All likes, reblogs and replies are highly appreciated!

Taglist:

@krillfromsky @kingmultiverse404 @deepressed @nelissecrectplace @yomoya-girl @theycallmemrsbarnes @roninishere @beelzmunchkin @kyojurismo @stuckinthewrongworld @lynnw @love-me-satoru @felix99999l @noarawriteszr @strawberrymm @rye-flower @demonslayeranimex @kittenssss-blog-blog @hanatsuki-hime @kxthxrinx3180 @thatw3ird0 @lovely-nayiq @annie-napier @cole-silas @inonezu-808 @witchy-scribblings @drowsydoggy @anjox @xkanrojimitsurix @ahashiraswife @mamayan @flametrashira

[aaeds]

I feel like some of the fandom is still a little blind to Evan's issues, and no amount of (insert character) can fix it is going to work. I don't see enough discussion on the topic of what is wrong with Evan Kelmp, specifically. Like, for real. I know we're only 3 episodes in but damn.

Evan rolls into the first island and is immediately like "don't freak out your old friends immediately by resorting to violence" gave me the impression that the reason he's covered in tons of scars and broken bones isn't because 'oh his shadow is gone now' making him inherently at risk for sad boi beat downs. I don't think there's a luck component to Evan off screen where he prat falls down a sewer drain and knife fights a Scottish street kid looking for a relic.

Evan is a deeply paranoid individual, would it matter if even half those encounters resulting in visual injury involved others with weapons or could someone say something to set him off? Followed too close? Escalate things too far until you're in the same situation as with the salamander kicking its face in because you can? If they were in service to Dr. Boodle, why Dr. Boodle so upset about weapons? Specifically stating his errands for Evan don't involve weapons (thus far.) That comes from somewhere, and Sam was valid in asking a dulled-emotion Evan to not kick his own body in the bag. It is a strange reflex. Not to think of your body as your object, but to physically kick it into a bag. We know about his past and how he was afraid he would hurt someone if he let his demons out, but he can delight in hurting others. Is it a form of retribution, or his pound of flesh for how he lived?

I see so many 'ship has sailed' 'Sam can fix him' 'Sam is what he needs' but that is just as toxic as referring to K as the 'I can fix him' individual. Sam has a lot more to give as a character on her own outside of Evan and I would like the cast to exchange meaningful scenes with one another. Evan needs so much more and a lot of that has to come out of the character himself through this adventure if he wants to change. Choosing to live is a step, and the amount of things he stuck around to haunt was another.

There could be more accepting of ideals and differences, even if intimacy feels partially alluded to playing some part in his break up with K (I can't overlook that.) The unwillingness to trust someone else's word. I want to see that growth or spark of trust that longer seasons can allow. Not everyone has had it easy, Jammer has had to work for everything he has and those values come from somewhere. You're never too late to change and surrounding yourself with people you feel safe to be around is important.

tl;dr I don't think this needs a Beauty and the Beast situation of character A sees character B for who they are and frees them from a lifetime of self sabotage. Also the table should tell a story together, not just two people. Ship and let ship as they say but I would be disappointed if the answer were as simple as "K was bad for him, Sam is good for him."

[aanoia]

Live for you

JJ Maybank x reader

Summary; reader is fresh out of the mental hospital

Warnings; huge TW, suicide, self harm, mental hospital, mentions of alcohol and weed

Words; 1000+

If you are struggling please reach out. To me, or someone you trust. Please. I will sit and listen to your problems all night. Coming from someone who has attempted suicide and who self harmed for years, in the end it does not help. I understand the feeling of never getting better, but please try. I am here for everyone.

Requests are welcome and encouraged! I have a anon submission box and you can ask in comments!

  There’s one thing no one prepares you for in a mental hospital. Leaving. Great deals of dread and loneliness fill my body as the beach rolls by. Memories of surfing and messing around with friends flood my mind. My friends. I haven’t heard from them in two months. The hospital didn’t allow anyone who wasn’t family to contact me. I missed them. I missed the Pogues. 

    We pulled up to my house. It was a decent size. My parents didn’t make as much money as Kook parents, but not as little as Pogue parents. We were in the middle. Not rich enough to be a Kook, and not poor enough to be a Pogue. The car stopped and my mom turned around in the passenger seat with a comforting smile.

    “We’re home, sweetie.” She said softly. That’s one of the many things I hate about just being out of a mental hospital for trying to kill yourself. Everyone states the obvious as if I’m too numbed by the want to commit suicide that I can’t see what’s right in front of me.

    I undid my seatbelt with shaky hands and opened the car door. Slowly I rose out of the car and took a deep breath as my dad got out of the car himself. He gave me a smile, which I weakly returned before he went to the door of the house and unlocked it. The bags and worry lines were prominent on his face. I pinch my thigh, feeling guilty to put him and my mom through so much turmoil.

    I walked through the doorway and was greeted with the familiar warmth of lavender candles and soft knit blankets which my mom made. The house was exactly how I left it, nothing seemed to be different. Everything was the same, except a painting. One I made when I was in seventh grade. It had moved to a different wall, and was closer to the ground then I remembered. 

    I gently rubbed my wrist, soothing the small ache of my scars. My mom and dad lingered in the living room, not saying anything but closely watching me. Their eyes burned into my back as I slowly walked up the stairs, savoring the feeling of the smooth wood railing. My leg tingled as I remembered when I tumbled down the stairs and broke my ankle when I was ten. I was so sure I was going to die as I laid in the backseat of the car with tears streaming down my face. In the passenger seat my mom tried her hardest not to have a heart attack as my dad was slightly amused at the situation, but still had slight worry for his daughter. 

    I walked down the hallway to the door of my room. The door was still painted black with white specks of paint and five hand prints, all different colors. The F/c handprint was mine, the red one was JJ’s, pink was Kiara’a, blue was Pope’s, and purple was John B’s. We painted it together only three months before I was rushed to the hospital. Only three months where my world almost ended. It seemed like a lifetime ago, despite it only being five months ago. 

    The golden doorknob was cold as I gently twisted it and it creaked as I opened the door, the sense of familiarity making me feel a little bit better. My room was the same. The only difference is it was clean. And also probably stripped of all the shards of glass, blades, pills, joints, and alcohol I had hidden. It even smelled the same. Vanilla, with a hint of cinnamon, as JJ would say.

    Tears stung my eyes as I looked at the polaroids that were taped onto my wall into the shape of a heart. My favorite, which was in the middle of the heart, was JJ and I kissing during sunset. Pope had taken the picture without us realizing and gifted it to me for my birthday. I touched the polaroid, wiping away a speck of dust before exiting my room with a new found urgency.

    I walked down the stairs quickly to meet my parents sitting at the island, talking quietly with each other. They looked at me with confusion.

    “What’s got you in such a hurry?” My dad asked with a small smile to show he was joking. I half smiled back.

    “I need to go to the chateau. I need to see my friends.” I said with a steady voice, which surprised even me.

    My mom and dad looked at each other before my dad nodded. “I’ll take you.” He said and grabbed the car keys. He kissed my mom goodbye and I waved to her as we left the house. The car ride was silent as we drove, the only sound being the radio.

    My dad parked a little ways away from the chateau, the Twinkie taking up parking space. I hesitated once I saw the group. They were laughing but they seemed unenthusiastic. JJ was smoking, as usual, as he sat against the big tree, a small, broken smile on his lips.

    “Dad?” I asked, not taking my eyes from the group.

    “Yes?”

    “What if they hate me?”

    “Why would they hate you, sweetheart?”

    “I tried to leave them. I tried to leave him. How could he ever forgive me?” I questioned, a single tear falling from my eye.

    “JJ loves you. I don’t think a single bone in his body could hate you. He’s your boyfriend, and your best friend, and he’s JJ.”

    I nodded. “Yeah, he’s JJ.” I said as Pope looked in the car's direction. A moment passed before he shot up and pointed.

    “Go.” My dad said and I looked over to him.

    “Okay. I love you.”

    He grabbed my hand and squeezed it, “I love you too.”

    I looked back at the group. They were all standing now, looking over as I opened the door and stepped out. After a second, a second of recognition, a second of disbelief, a second of relief, JJ broke out in a sprint. His body collided with mine and I didn’t waste a second. I wrapped my arms around his shoulder as his body shook in my grasp. The rest piled in. We were just a group of friends, hugging desperately as tears streamed down our faces. I didn’t even hear as my dad drove away.

    After a few minutes, we broke apart, the only one who didn’t let go of me was JJ. And I was perfectly content with it as I ran my fingers through his hair, pressing soft kisses to the top of his head.

    “JJ, don’t suffocate her.” John B said with a teary laugh. Slowly JJ pulled away and I placed my hand on his cheeks, wiping away his tears with a smile.

    “You’re okay?” JJ said, but it sounded more like a question than a statement.

    I shook my head, “No. But I’m alive.” I said and he nodded, another tear dripping down his cheek.

    I pulled away from JJ and Kiara gave me a quick, tight hug.

    “Sorry, I just had to give you another hug. I’ve missed you so fucking much.” She said and wiped her face.

    My smile fell as I looked over the group and their tear stained faces, “I am so sorry, guys.” 

    “Sorry? You have nothing to be sorry for. If anything we’re sorry for not providing you the support you needed.” Pope said and a sob fell from my lips.

    “I’m sorry, it just hurt too much. I’m sorry for trying to leave you guys behind.” I said with a shaky voice and JJ wiped my cheeks with the pads of his thumbs.

    “Shh, sh, it’s okay. We’re okay. You’re okay.” He whispered and I took a deep breath and nodded.

    “Yeah.” I whispered. “We’re okay. I’m okay. I’m gonna be okay.”

   

    I laid in the hammock with JJ as we looked up at the stars. I could feel the warmth of the slowly dying fire on my legs.

    “I thought I lost you.” JJ muttered and I closed my eyes.

    “I know.”

    “I was so worried. Your mom she- she kept me updated, but I wanted to hear from you about how you were.”

    “I know.” I opened my eyes.

    “I thought you were dead, Y/n. I thought the only reason I had to keep living was dead.”

    “I know. I-” I sighed. “I’m gonna try to get better. I’m gonna try.”

    I looked at JJ who was already looking at me. “And I’m gonna be there for you every step of the way.” He said softly and placed his lips on mine for the first time in months.

    I used to think there were two types of love. The kind you’d die for. And the kind you’d kill for. But JJ, he was the kind of the love I would live for. I will live for JJ.

[ilyuu-archive]

can i ask for Character B kissing Character A while Character B is dying in their arms (but reader is the one dying bc mmmm yummy angst) w xiao venti and childe?

congrats on your milestone!!!

warnings : angst, main character death, hurt/no comfort, crying, descriptions (proceed with caution!)

childe.

he feels your fingertips flit across his features, tracing, feeling his skin, as if to etch it all into your memories (memories that soon only one of you will keep) and it coaxes forth a fresh wave of tears. he doesn’t realize it. not the sting, not how it clouds his sight, nothing. just how cold your fingers are, losing its warmth, its life slowly slipping into the air.

the scent of copper is something of a thrill, as much as he admits so, that thrusts a sense of adrenaline in his veins - there’s a line to draw, a hard one, when it’s from you. thick liquid flows from your side, and the stench only grows stronger from there as it taints along the shoreline. the sea coalesces with it and he never though the sight that he once shared with you, one he cherishes so, would be poisoned because of him. a someone who had made a small home, albeit cracked, in his heart.

he didn’t feel how your fingers slowly moved along his shoulder, tucking itself in his hair. he didn’t feel the faint tug, almost resisting. he didn’t feel how you pulled him in.

what he did felt was the lingering warmth of your lips against his. more of a peck than anything, all of you (what’s left) into it - a bittersweetness with a farewell that has him returning it. his hand finds itself at the back of your head, and all sorts of tastes, feelings, thoughts, are shared between the two of you in those last minutes. all of his apologies his voice didn’t let him say, all of those memories that you wish you could’ve made more of, the tandem of affection you both tried to give each other.

he doesn’t want you to go. he doesn’t want to lose one of the few homes he has left, not in this way, and not so soon. there’s still so many things he wants to do, to say, that maybe it’d never be able to complete a lifetime but damn it all if it means even a second more with you to try.

“…home. i’m sorry for breaking our home.”

venti.

a keepsake of you lies in everything you say, do, and think - your voice, smile, laughter, words, acts - and keeps it deep within in when you’d part ways. a bit too much of a hope, perhaps, that there would be some silent closure for him as the two of you lived a lifetime of fulfillment and, well, freedom in the arms of the other. he’s happy. and you’re happy, in spite of knowing the end.

yet not so soon.

the wisps of wind acts as company, and yet, an antagonist to his words as it drowns out his voice, murmuring every letter, line, he has to his person that’ll be enough to try and convey everything he’s felt with you. no time for prose, he all but puts himself - the one that not even the crisp air can touch, masked away - into it. and, in spite of the copper, dull and heavy in the clouds, oozing from many a scars skimming your body, there’s an almost soft sight of you smiling.

your hand toys with the tuft of his braid, aglow, thrumming with life, and it’s then that he notices that he’s his own cause. he closes his eyes, and feels the world settle into a state of calm and peace - it’s his chest, tight, slightly aching in the lack of air, that doesn’t. not even he feels you nearing in, lips peppering his cheek with pecks. and who is he to not indulge his love in the same way?

and so, with hands that cared and destroyed, he cups your cheek in presses an airy kiss onto your lips that slowed time. it’s then that you taste salt - his tears. he caves in and feels the sting that he’d thought at least healed a bit come back. the loss of close one yet again; in his arms yet again; and left with nothing but a raw, tender wound on his chest yet again.

“your memory will stay with me, don’t worry. i’ll make sure that it’ll stick to the skies.”

xiao.

there’s little to no saving grace as his hand tightly held onto yours, shaking, trembling, all of her nerves taut as he feels the nip of frost biting back at his skin. the only heat that he feels is one he’s familiar with, yet it’s not the one he’s comfortable with - smears of red soiling the back of his hand as he tries to close his fingers in yours. yours try to do the same; a frail, faint presence, fading and fading with every second.

the light in your eyes, one that he always admires, in light and in dark, starts to flicker and it’s then that he knows that you’re fading. that you’ll be nothing but a memory rather than a wish, a dream, to hope for tomorrow. reality sways underneath him and rue tastes bitter on his tongue; to think that he’d so easily let you slip from him in the same manner as all the others. a memory - those days and nights wherein the two of you simply bask in the wind and the presence of the other will on the balcony, underneath the gingko leaves, will become dusted memories.

a spark.

his eyes widens, just slightly, and yet through the darkness encroaching at the edges of your vision, you can see how his irises wavered. you pressed your lips against the back of his hand, barely tasting the metal - a silent assurance to him, even with how little it does.

and he returns it. eager, desperate - all that he left unsaid, feelings left to be simply thoughts, poured into a kiss that nearly stole your breath away. is it too selfish if he wants you to stay by him for a few more moments? is it too selfish to take you out of this endless cycle if it means he hasn’t to see you like this?

(is it selfish to think that he’d rather not met you at all just to avoid this?)

“don’t… please. not yet. …not yet.”

[nightfury-2001]

Something that especially bothers me about the ending of 3. Is that they want to have their sad "The dragons leaving" ending. and also have them still get to be friends.

They want you to be sad at the dragons leaving, that hiccup and everyone else might never see their best friends ever again.

But they still want their cute ending where hiccups gets get to play with toothless's kids.

They want you to be sad that hiccup misses his friend on the holidays and wants him to be there with him.

And then he comes in, eats the fish, and leaves. Or in the snoggletog log thing, are just kinda there like the dragons never left.

They really did want to have their cake and it too, and not just with the things you've mentioned.

"Hiccup and Toothless' friendship is the friendship of a lifetime and they're canonically platonic soulmates but also a big part of this film is about how Toothless' instincts and attraction to the Light Fury become more important than his bond with Hiccup. Also the only reason that Toothless didn't accept the auto-tail in GOTNF was because there wasn't a hot girl Fury around that he needed to impress. Oh and Toothless almost murders Hiccup during the reunion scene before barely recognizing him at the last second."

"The Light Fury represents the call of the wild - she's a regal, powerful, fierce creature that's untainted by humanity - but she's also the cute marketable girlfriend™ character who has pink sparkly hearts on her forehead. She couldn't have interesting markings that weren't made out of glitter because they might have looked too much like scars. Also she sounds and acts like a domestic cat."

"Toothless is a wild animal with the instincts, behaviors, and needs to match and where he truly belongs is in the wild and Hiccup needs to learn to accept that but also he's the protagonist's adorable "pet" that runs around panting and slobbering and acting like a dog but also he's this extremely intelligent being that's smarter than any real non-human animal and he has many humanlike behaviors and he can draw and understand the value of art and he can quickly understand and negotiate in a hostage situation and he has an updated design that makes him look more humanlike and emote in more humanlike ways than ever before."