#this was meant to look kind of dreamlike

[mjulmjul]

s2 concept

#artists on tumblr #our flag means death #ofmd #digital art #this was meant to look kind of dreamlike #I just want to see the Revenge (even more) battle scarred cos no one aboard cares about maintaining her beyond the minimum #that’s stede & co in the dinghy lol #hate having to come up with captions so SO much just wanna yeet my art into the void without thinking #userkels

[anonymous-dentist]

A Very Long qRoier Theory

Okay so here's what I actually think, and TRUST THE PROCESS OKAY:

I think that Roier really was kidnapped by the Federation, but I don't think that he was taken because he was looking for Cellbit strictly because the Feds themselves are actually more or less actively searching for the missing islanders and hoping for their return so they can continue the murder investigation. Despite the terrible things going on, the Feds legitimately want all their islanders/lab rats back on the island so they can continue with whatever experiment they're holding. Every time Cucurucho has held a meeting recently, it's asked about the status of the missing islanders, so it really wouldn't make sense for it or the Feds as a whole to punish their one single lead in the case when every actual Federation agent assigned to the case has either come up with nothing or disappeared entirely.

Nah, I think Roier was taken because he was vulnerable and because the Feds figured nobody would've missed him. They know that he isn't really super close with anybody on the island but Cellbit, and they know that he's been actively pushing people away for a while now- basically since Bobby's death, and moreso since his return from Purgatory.

Looking at the QSMP channel's streams, particularly Elena's, we know that the Feds seem to be a pharmaceutical company. They, simply speaking, make drugs. Look at the "happy pills" that Elena helped create, this is what the Feds do.

Roier mentioned that he was drugged. He never said that they stopped drugging him. I think he's still being drugged and that he isn't a rat- not a literal one, anyway.

I think that Roier is still under the effects of the drugs he's being given because he is currently a test subject. He's a lab rat.... at the moment, anyway.

More on that later.

Do I have any evidence for this? Not really, but also some things just didn't add up cinematically. Like, okay, go back and watch everything from after when Roier 'wakes up' in the dungeon:

Everything's got this weird otherworldly fuzziness and glow to it. It's almost dreamlike in a way. Only the focus of the world is, well, in focus. The rest is blurred like a bad 3D movie:

There are all these weird cuts and jumps, too, like 11:16 when we suddenly cut to black for a few moments as Roier goes down the hallway, or 12:13 when we smash cut to the rat and 12:16 when we cut to Cucurucho. It's super sudden and jarring and it sets up a real nice feeling of unease (shoutout to ccRoier, this is SPECTACULAR)

And the music, okay, the background music is exactly the kind of shit you'd hear in a 'Dreamcore Music Video' on YouTube. It's super Backrooms, super weird esoteric vibes, and that's very on purpose.

None of this is real, and "Doied" is the final proof because like. He isn't real lol, if he's real then so is Roger, and the only times either of them front are when Roier's goofing around or when he's extremely homicidal (we saw Roger pretty recently, actually, back in October when he said that Cellbit killing everyone might be a good thing, actually.) Doied isn't like Abueloier or Melissa, he's one of Roier's 'alters', and he's a bit of a freak lol

I think about everyone can agree that this whole 'Ratoier' thing is a hallucination, but then we have to think, huh, what the hell does any of this mean?

First, we gotta follow the whole 'Roier is Currently Super Drugged' thing, because he is. He literally is. If he's not, well, laugh at me when the next tape comes out.

Roier is drugged by the Feds right now probably to test a new drug, possibly a drug meant to- just like the Happy Pills- make people happy again. In this case, however, I think that the pills may actually have something to do with memories, particularly the same memory retrieval stuff the Resistance did to Bagi. Because, well.

I want to go back to the rat, and I want to go back to Doied, because this stream actually implied a LOT about qRoier's character.

The thing about Doied is that he's the manifestation of Roier's "Um, actually!" Nerd Emoji self. He's a nerd. He's a loser with glasses and a nasty attitude.

Doied, in the dream, is a scientist. Doied, in the dream, performed horrible, inhumane experiments for the Federation. He put Roier's brain into a rat's, a lab rat's.

Once a long, long time ago in August, Roier quietly came to the realization that maybe he has a past history with the Federation and that's why Osito Bimbo has always been so weird about him- it basically had a crush on him for the first week or so of the island, and it still seems to, and he is still the only one outside of Foolish the Federation Employee to be addressed directly by his train ticket number: 0037. He brought up the possibility of being a Federation worker in the past to Cellbit, who brushed it off and said that he wouldn't care because he's a worker, too, technically, but what if it isn't a possibility?

We've always wondered how Federation workers end up the way they do. Why are they all the exact same type of bear? Why does only Cucurucho get to have a face and a voice? Why do they all have human minds and emotions? Why are they all dedicated to the Federation?

Easy. Because maybe they were people before, just like how Bagi and several other islanders think they are. But maybe someone put their brains inside of an animal's body- or, at least, inside of a worker's body, God only knows if they were actual polar bears at some point. Somebody had to help come up with that technology, and maybe it's the guy who managed to build an entire computer and radio-satellite setup over the span of about a week in his goddamn backyard without anybody knowing about it.

Roier has always had some weird connection with the Federation. He's the only civilian islander to ever be addressed by his ticket number, and later we find out that Foolish's ticket number- 0039- is his Federation Employee ID Number- W0039. He was Osito Bimbo's favorite for the first week on the island to the point of Osito just giving him whatever he wanted. He and Jaiden were paired up for the Egg Event (something that was intentional, btw, admin confirmed), and it's later revealed that Jaiden has a past with the Federation regarding the SMILE Units (aka Osito Bimbo and Cucurucho and the new guys.) The "Gods" (aka the admins) will happily follow him around and revive him when he's alone and strike him with lightning when asked and give him dirt and whatever. He managed to get someone onto the island from off of the island, Abueloier, and Abueloier was saved from the brink of death by the Federation in the Federation's hospital. His literal pet dog is a Federation employee. He got to name Jorgito the IV Drip.

Doied put someone's brain into the body of a rat, and Doied is Roier's nerd self.

I think that Roier may, in fact, have a past history with the Federation, and that it isn't because his grandfather worked/works for them. Maybe Roier did, just like he suspected months ago, and maybe he did some really bad things. But they were excused at the time because the people being converted into workers were bad people who made mistakes. Roier made the mistake of breaking the rules trying to connect with Cellbit, and so he got turned into a rat. There's been a functional prison on the island for long enough for it to be partially abandoned (see: Tazercraft Prison Stream.) Walter Bob was held there, possibly because he was part of the Resistance, or possibly because he wasn't done cooking yet.

Roier has always been a man of justice. When people do bad things, they get punished, and then things can go back to normal. He ruined Quackity's life. He wanted Slime to be properly punished for killing Tilin and he threatened to murder him when he tried threatening the kids. He built an entire torture dungeon in his basement for the explicit purpose of torturing Spreen to the point of death repeatedly and possibly for the rest of Spreen's miserable life. Cucurucho took Bobby away, and Roier said that the Federation would regret putting and keeping him on the island. Pozolito the Capybara blew Cellbit up, and Roier has literally tried killing every Capybara he's seen since. The Federation screwed with his family and with himself, and Roier is more than happy to join Cellbit in massacring the entire Federation.

He's a man of justice, but not of morals. He's a ruthless killer when it comes down to it, and he only shows regret when it comes to his husband's deaths during Purgatory. He doesn't fight unless he has to, but he's been thinking about killing everyone on the island since the first week of the server when he was betrayed. But, when it comes down to it, he doesn't actually want to hurt anyone he cares about. It's why Purgatory fucked him up so much.

His moral alignment actually matches up pretty well with several other Federation workers'- particularly workers like Elena and Fred who are nice but are willing to do terrible things in the name of their cause. The difference here is that Roier has had the same privilege that workers like Walter Bob and Ron got: he got a chance to socialize.

He doesn't have memories from before the island, but he remembers enough about his childhood to be a little suspicious.

But what if these drug-induced hallucinations are actually hints to Roier's backstory? What if it wasn't Doied running all these terrible experiments for the Federation, but it was Roier? Just a guy acting under the belief that he was making the world a better place, punishing criminals (aka rule breakers) while helping the Federation's cause: finding true happiness and spreading it to the world.

The Eye said that everybody in Purgatory was a sinner, and maybe Roier's sin was some mad scientist bullshit.

The dream today, Tape 1, had Roier being punished. Maybe it's because that's what he did as a scientist to new employees, or maybe it's because of his own guilt over everything he's done; remember, the reason he stopped smiling in Purgatory wasn't because he was killing his friends (because he's thought about killing his friends for a VERY long time), but it was because he killed Cellbit, and then it was because he left Cellbit behind to die. That's why the dream specified Cellbit's lost signal and not, say, Jaiden's, and it's why all the cool cinematic landscape shots focused on either Roier himself or Cellbit.

If my prediction is correct, Tape 2 would have Roger instead of Doied. So we'll see what happens then, I guess. Roger, who represents Roier's anger and his various homicidal tendencies.

Fit said that everybody was on the island for a reason, and Roier has been cooking for a long time now. Maybe qRoier is just like qJaiden: a former Federation associate.

TLDR; qRoier is currently hallucinating due to him being a Federation lab rat. His drug-induced dreams may be implying that Roier has a past within the Federation as a scientist completing the same experiments that "Doied" did in the dream to Roier.

But that's just a theory, a Game Theory. Thank you for reading.

#qsmp theory #qsmp #qroier #long post #guys idk if this makes sense #but it does to me!!!!!

[tojiwrd]

6: fate is fickle ; gojo satoru

pairing gojo satoru x fem!reader

summary when satoru breaks off your engagement, you understand and accept it. but when he marries someone else, you don't understand because he didn't want to be tied down.

content warnings mentions toxic family, mentions of forced marriage, emotional infidelity, lots of crying, drama drama drama, confrontation, lots of reminiscing. also not proofread so im sorry for any mistakes !!

word count 4k

a/n sorry for late update lomls my gojo fate is fickle ver. came back into my life after three years of silence so this is chapter is coming straight from my bones guysssss . also i am so so so grateful for the support on this fic, genuinely makes me so happy i love u guys sm thank you SO much !! <3 also credit to the person of the art!! i can't find their name so if anyone knows then lmk <3

send thoughts ↞ prev next ↠ to be added to taglist

Gojo Satoru didn’t get on one knee and ask to marry you. He did it when the two of you were in the apartment he bought just a few months prior, laying on the bed as the small opening of the curtains let a thin stream of silver streams in. It wasn’t that he wasn’t prepared because when he slipped the question while the two of you were facing one another, a hint of sleep heavy on the eyes on his moon-kissed face, he backed it up with the ring he’d carefully tucked away in his sweatpants. You swore your cheeks were hinting a fresh glow for the next week.

Maybe it was dumb to think you and Satoru, only twenty-five, would’ve worked out when he proposed on a random Sunday in bed. It did seem dumb, though, while you sat across Hana who was relaying her own proposal story. You’d tuned it out, not wanting to hear her drone on about how it was the most perfect, breathtaking moment when he got on one knee at a rooftop restaurant. You didn’t want to be there, partially because you truly felt as though Hana was painting Satoru out into someone he wasn’t, and partially because you were human and humans tend to get jealous sometimes. 

It was meant to be a simple brunch with ten people, friends of friends of friends. You had Reina right next to you, Reina, whose eyes were continuously twitching as Hana would relearn a new moment from that picture-perfect night and feel the need to share it with everyone on the table. You could also see some of your own friends who were aware of yours and Satoru’s relationship look at her, then you, with furrowed brows. Hers mostly out of confusion, and at you to ask why the fuck are you quiet?

“Ugh!” One of the girls, Jia, exclaimed as Hana finally seemed to get to the end of her engagement story. “I wish I had someone like Gojo Satoru; all these men are so unromantic and act like genuine children.”

Truthfully, if Satoru wasn’t your ex-fiancee, you would be on the same boat as the girls who were unaware of your past relationship. Hana’s story, from the pieces you forced yourself to hear, was dreamlike. A small part of you wanted to tell her that her romantic and unchildlike husband had proposed to her, too, right after he’d done some other things that would end that conversation immediately. But you didn’t because it wasn’t Hana’s fault, even though your mind kept putting some blame on her, that Satoru broke it off with you.

“I hope all of you find somebody like Satoru. He truly is the best,” Hana replied dreamily. 

You clenched your fists. Reina slammed hers on the table. 

“You’re so delusional, Hana, it’s concerning.” You wanted to raise your arms and pull Reina down and ask her to shut up. To not cause a scene. But Hana looked at Reina, a confused, concerningly kind expression covering her features and you realized there lived a monster in you that wanted to see Gojo Hana crumble. “Don’t look at me all coy, high, and mighty. You don’t know shit about your husband. Why don’t you skip over these semantics and really tell them the only reason the two of you got married was because your parents forced you to?”

You delighted in the flash of anger that slid across Hana’s face as she pursed her lips, trying to find the right words. You leaned back and stared, an uncharacteristically numb look covering your features. This, a part of you realized, might be detracking you from your healing process but it was fun.

Hana looked around the table and noticed how all eyes were fixed on her figure. If there was one thing you’d learned from girls' brunches, it was that everybody loved when it blew over and left one or many people scathed. She sputtered over her words, the tangle coming out completely incomprehensible and you almost felt bad. Almost felt bad because it wasn’t expected of her to admit to a whole group of socialites that the marriage to the Gojo heir wasn’t out of love, but out of an arrangement that went in their favor. If you were in her place, you, too, would’ve waxed poetic about your marriage because if the truth would bring the palpable exciting energy down, you would feel bad.

“Perhaps it was suggested by our parents,” she started, glaring at Reina with faux sweetness. “But it was only because our parents saw how in love we seemed with each other.”

You tried to hold yourself back but it was just so simple for you to scoff at her words. When Reina looked at you, a sheen of anger coating her eyes, you pushed yourself to talk. “It’s not love if he cheated on someone with you.”

You had thought about this moment before; you’d wondered if, were you to ever meet Hana again, you would drop the ticking time bomb in her presence that might either blow up her entire marriage or just cause a small blip in the working systems of it. But saying it now, after hearing her say all Satoru had said about you was that your fathers worked together, felt completely underwhelming. Though the shoe was dropped and it was clear everybody managed to get a small tatters of it to whisper about with other people, it felt wrong. Wrong because the way Hana looked at you, eyes brimmed with tears and brows coming together in sadness, you had most likely broken a piece of her.

She gulped then cleared her throat. “Can—Can we talk outside? Alone?” she asked and, without sparing a glance at anybody on the table except for you and Reina, she walked to the sliding doors of the restaurant and into the glaring sun above. 

Reina placed her hand on your forearm and said, “Come on, let’s go.” It was surprising to see a miniscule hint of guilt on her features, and you realized you had to have the conversation. 

Hana had most likely heard the clicking of yours and Reina’s heels because she didn’t turn back to face the two of you. “I know you and Satoru had something going on.”

You froze, stunned and silent. 

“I had heard from my mother that you both were in a relationship. He never mentioned it to me, though, and I didn’t mention it, either.” She turned around, eyes wide as she looked down and shuffled her feet in anxiousness. “I don’t know how it ended or when it ended, but I thought when he—he finally acknowledged there was something between us, the two of you were over. I didn’t want to know. We did get married because our fathers told us to, but I wasn’t lying when I said he was sweet and caring.” Her stare burned you like a billion matches. There was truth in her words, you knew—

“You homewrecking bitch!” Reina’s voice cut off your train of thought as she walked towards Hana, an accusatory finger pointed in her direction. Once again, you didn’t stop her even though you probably should’ve. “If you knew he was in a relationship, how could you even think of flirting with him? They were engaged. God! I swear, both you and Gojo are two peas in the same pod. You deserve each other.” Her words were also ringing through your head and there was confusion bubbling up within the same pot as growing anger. 

“Why’d you pretend not to know when we saw you at the club?” you asked, finding your voice again, in a calm tone that surprised you, too. 

Hana shook her head. Her face had curled up into fury, and you wondered if her nice, docile, angel-sent-from-above personality was a card she held up her sleeve the entire time. “I didn’t care. I didn’t want to know because Satoru was mine—is mine. You weren’t a part of his life anymore, so I didn’t want to add any worries that were misplaced.”

You wondered if you should tell her that Satoru had tried reaching out to you at Suguru’s gallery. 

“If he had told me he was with you, I wouldn’t have tried anything with him.”

You were sure you had moved past everything. 

After more than a year of avoiding any fire from your past with Satoru, the past two weeks had been filled to the brim with situations revolving around him. It was easy to ignore what you had with Satoru when he seemed like a distant memory and then a mere ghost in your thoughts. But when he’s insistent on giving you answers you never asked for, answers you didn’t want to know, and his wife had made an appearance that caused your brain to run without stopping, it was difficult to treat him the way you had. 

No matter how much you wanted to ignore everything and reset your brain back to its default settings, you couldn’t when the world was caving in on you and reality seeped through its cracks to light a bright, pertinent light in front of your eyes. You hated Gojo Satoru with every inch of your bones, but you were never truly able to forget just Satoru himself.

Your mind had an interesting way to deal with the pile of information dropped onto your shoulders. You should’ve been reliving how Satoru made your blood boil when he got engaged with Hana, how he carelessly broke your heart because he began falling for somebody else, somebody brand new while he was taking space on your bed every night. You should’ve been, but you weren’t. 

‘A relationship broken is always a relationship that could’ve been,’ is what you’d read once graffitied onto a brick wall you were leaning against with Satoru once in the middle of the bustling city streets. You’d pointed it out, he’d agreed. He’d agreed. You wish he hadn’t because there was a fragment of you that wished he remembered those words now. The devilish part of you wished that’s what he remembered, recounted abruptly while he was sleeping next to his wife. 

You wished he’d think of the could’ve been’s instead of the measly fears he told you about at the gallery. 

You also wish you had those fears, too. You loved Satoru to a point that he was in everything you did; your clothes smelt like his detergent because you would always take your laundry to his house for the weekends. The lamp next to your bed had his bracelet wrapped around it because he thought it was too loose on his wrist and he’d lose it. You would always accidentally call him because his contact was on your home screen, causing you to press on it when you were scrolling (he always picked up and he always talked to you for hours after, making you forget why you had opened your phone in the first place). The tattoo, a small design of baby’s breaths, on your hip reminded you of how he had held your hand through the pain. 

You knew Satoru’s dreams. You knew Satoru’s biggest fears. So, why did he never tell you the fears he had for the two of you?

As soon as the thought hit your mind, it was followed by you harshly reprimanding yourself by reminding you that it was because he was getting excited over someone else’s calls, someone else’s dreams.

“Y/N, honey.” You heard your mother’s voice call from your ajar bedroom door before she hesitantly stepped in, heel-clad feet grazing over the off-white floor with footsteps following behind her. “Your friend from the gallery here to see you.”

You knew exactly who she was talking about which is why you raised slightly from your bed, a panicked look in your eyes, and only began pleading with her to tell him you weren’t here. Before you could even utter a complete, coherent sentence, Suguru had walked in with his head down and your mother simply walked out of the door, sparing you a sad smile. She didn’t know any of what had happened, but she most likely sensed it wasn’t anything worth toasting to after seeing Suguru’s mood and your reaction. 

“Please, Suguru.” Your voice wobbled, a slight hiccup in your words because this was too much. Even though Suguru was somewhere on the top of your least-favorite people list at the moment, he didn’t deserve to see you get angry at him without having control over your words. “Leave.”

“Listen, listen, Y/N. I just… I heard some stuff and I needed to check on you.” His words were hesitant, as if he’d rehearsed them but had changed the script at the last minute. He walked closer to your bed and you couldn’t find the words to ask him to leave. “Hana told me—”

You snorted, cutting him off. “Hana told you what? That I ended her perfect, dreamy image of her marriage in public? Are you here to—what? Reprimand me? Tell me I was wrong—”

“Fuck, no. Stop, just for one second.”

You did stop because Suguru seemed more tense than you knew what to do with. 

“I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry, Y/N.”

You stared at him, unblinking. “What do you want me to say?”

“Nothing, nothing,” he quickly addressed, his body finding its way to the edge of your bed. “I want to say I’m sorry, and you don’t have to accept it. I was wrong—I realize that now but… I was scared, Y/N.”

“Scared of what? I wouldn’t have been any worse if you’d just told me what you knew, Suguru. You hid it from me when you saw how I was going insane the month after the breakup.”

“I was scared of this. How you’ve been feeling since Satoru told you the truth himself.” You couldn’t reply to that. “But I want to tell you that even though I hadn’t told you about it, I did let Satoru know really well what he did was wrong. Not that it’s any better, but I never supported what he did. I—I couldn’t stop him from marrying her because… well, because he’s Satoru. I shouldn’t have assumed you were okay, especially not after finding out about Hana after three months. But I thought you were and—I don’t know, I wasn’t thinking straight.

But I heard from Hana earlier today about what had happened at brunch. She said she was scared Satoru would find out what she said and I—I have no idea why she trusted me with that information. I’m not friends with her. I don’t know why she told me.”

You took in a deep breath processing all the information Suguru kept on dropping. “I’m not telling Satoru anything.”

“But she—”

“She nothing. I don’t want to hear it, Suguru. Whatever she did, even if she actively tried to sabotage me and Satoru, it was on him that he let her.” Your phone lit up from beside you and you glanced at the time, internally thanking whoever controlled it for the real excuse to kick him out of your house. “I have plans with Kento. You need to leave now, actually.”

You didn’t miss the way Suguru’s face flashed with a hint of disappointment at your words. 

Kento Nanami wasn’t understanding—not truly—which is why you were surprised that halfway through your date, when you told him you had to talk to Satoru, he understood. He walked you out of the restaurant, a calm, unwavering hand on your back and told you that no matter what happened, he’d be there by your side. 

And though you knew you had people by your side, you really couldn’t remember who and felt a flutter in your chest. 

By the time you reached Satoru’s (and Hana’s) apartment, the urge and confidence you felt when you came up with your plan ebbed away into pieces and left you lying there in a situation you weren’t sure you could face. You raised your hand up to press a finger against the doorbell regardless, trying to force away the thought that you would see the apartment you helped him move into and decorate. You briefly, for a second, wondered if he had changed it. You also wondered if it would hurt to see the small paintings you’d bought as a present for his new apartment not be in the spots of the wall Satoru put you on his shoulders to pin.

When the door opened, you were met with the same eyes that had haunted your dreams and nightmares. His mouth opened, wide enough for a fly to fly into, then he schooled his features into mere curiosity. You realized that you were the one that sought him out this time, you were the one who dropped in unannounced at his house, which meant you should speak. 

“I need to talk to you.” And frankly, at that moment, you didn’t care if Hana was lurking behind him and able to hear you initiate a conversation with her husband. That was what he was: her husband before your ex-fiance.

He breathed out and shook his head as if willing himself to speak, too. “Yes. Yeah. Come in, Y/N.”

And you did. You saw the walls, the paintings, the small hearts on the corner of the dining table you drew with a sharpie, the couch you picked out, and even the necklace you had forgotten that peeked from under his coat on the coat hanger. You didn’t comment on it, though. 

“Do you want water? Tea? Liquor?” 

You almost laughed at the anxiousness in his voice. “I’m good. This won’t take long.”

Satoru’s expression was what you could confidently call crestfallen, and he didn’t try to hide it this time. You forced yourself not to think about it. You merely went down to the couch in his living room that you picked out and placed yourself on the left corner because you always used to sit on the right. It helped you see the TV better. 

“She isn’t home.” You knew who he meant by ‘she.’

“Goj—Satoru, I need you to do something,” you said, unsure of how to start it off. In all fairness, you hadn’t prepared what you were going to say, it was just a messed up, jumbled backbone of stuff that you knew you had to tell him.

His reply was instant. “Anything.”

“I need you to not feel guilty or—I don’t know, keep feeling guilty but just keep it to yourself, okay?” You sounded like you were talking like a preschooler, and it wasn’t much different because Satoru looked at you with the hopeful eyes a kid has before you reject their wishes. But Satoru wasn’t a kid, Satoru was a man who made poor choices and hurt someone by doing something unexcusable, and that made it okay to tell him to stop. 

“What do you mean?”

“Don’t talk to me. If we’re in the same place, don’t talk to me. Don’t ask me not to hate you. Don’t tell me you regret what you did to me.”

It hurt to break your heart by your own words. 

“Y/N, don’t do this,” he trailed off, eyes wide and filled with fear now. “Please.”

“Stop.” Your own eyes brimmed with tears you weren’t going to shed. It was fine dealing with Satoru when he tried to talk to you, but doing it on your own terms gave you an inexplicable feeling of sadness you hadn’t expected. “You’re being selfish.”

“No. How…”

“You take when you want, Satoru. You know more than anybody else that I loved you and lost myself when I couldn’t. You were there that night in the car, holding me when I cried when you left me. You left me!” you exclaimed, pointing your index in his direction that would’ve jabbed him in the face if he wasn’t further away. “You were there even after you left me. You’re there now, making me all confused and angry, when you know you can’t give me anything. You don’t have any intention of being somebody I need in my life, so leave. Make this easier for me and leave. Let me live my life while you live yours.”

He had shifted down the couch, and though he was still not too close, it felt too close. 

“Don’t—fuck, don’t say that, love. Please. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

You flailed your arms in the air, his words not helping your case at all. “You can be sorry a million times over, but what’s done is done. You can’t… Fuck, Satoru. You can’t do this.”

A moment passed. Then another. He placed his head in his hands, facing ahead while you faced his shaking body. 

“I love you,” he said, and you were lost. 

“Don’t do this to your wife, Satoru. You love her. You’re supposed to love her. Don’t do this to someone else.”

“I love you,” he repeated, his eyes now looking into yours with a familiar fire of determination. “You know that, right? You know that I love you?” His words broke out into a sob that ripped directly from his scratchy throat. “Tell me you know that.”

“Then please leave. Don’t show up. Stop showing up, and stop explaining something that can’t be understood.”

And when Satoru placed a hand on your cheek, you didn’t push it away because you saw that previous fire dwindle within a second. He tugged his lower lip between his teeth as he scanned your warm face, your glassy eyes, and he noticed how you were shivering under his touch. You didn’t push it away because Satoru might’ve been selfish, but you were, too. And you would inhale the embers of him before they turned into ash.

“You want this?” he asked, but you could see he knew the answer. You didn’t reply. He continued, “I’ll leave you alone, if that’s what you want. But—But I want you to know I wanted it to be you. When Hana walked down the aisle, I thought of you. I wish you’d come. I would’ve never said ‘I do.’ I swear. I’m sorry I fucked up—I fucked us up. I got carried away and…”

You smiled sadly. “Don’t do that to her. You have a chance at being happy, Satoru. Don’t ever do what you did to me again.”

“Do you?” he asked.

“Do I what?”

“Have that chance at being happy?”

You thought about the question and Kento’s name flashed in your mind. It might have been small compared to the colossal amounts of feelings you felt with Satoru back then, but it was something. Even though you didn’t shake under Kento’s touch or feel your stomach turning upside down everytime he smiled at you, you felt safe and you knew that if you could stay, Kento would stay, too. 

“I do.”

He inhaled a sharp breath, a single tear falling from his eye. “Is it wrong that I still wish it was me?”

You wanted to say no, it isn’t because a part of me wishes it was you, too. You didn’t. 

He continued, “I can’t let you go, Y/N.” 

Another tear, then another, till they continued streaming down his face. You couldn’t stop them. You couldn’t react to them. Not even when he took his hand away from your face to messily wipe them away between sobs and hiccups. 

“You said you didn’t deserve me, and you were right. Remember that.”

And even though a larger part of you didn’t want to leave, you left, afraid that you might end up entangling yourself in his arms to cry with him. To get one taste of his lips for the last time before deciding to fuck it all and make one kiss more. To hold onto him for longer, forever. You left because you weren’t sure you could tell Satoru to leave again. You thought you still loved Satoru just not in the way you used to. But when you saw him pleading for nothing because there was no good outcome for the two of you, you realized you might still love Satoru the way you used to, just less and concealed by the hurt. You would’ve chosen all the bad outcomes and then some more if you stayed a minute longer.

#gojo x reader #angst #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #gojo angst #gojo satoru #gojo satoru angst #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x you #gojo satoru x you #jjk angst #jujutsu kaisen angst

[sourlove]

My Mistake ~ YANDERE TODOROKI SHOTO

TW: KIDNAPPING (REGRETFULLY), DELUSION, BLACKMAIL, IMPLIED MURDER, IMPLIED VIOLENCE, MENTIONS OF MAFIA AND GANG ACTIVITIES

A/N: THIS WAS INSPIRED BY A 'REVERSE TROPE WRITING PROMPT' ORIGINALLY CREATED BY @out-of-jams

"Listen, I know this might seem sudden, but I have to get this off my chest. I think I've fallen in love with you."

Slowly, you turn to face owner of the heterochromatic eyes gazing up at you. From where he was tied up. On a chair. In your basement.

"...come again?"

The man you had just kidnapped, with the intent of holding for ransom, blushed. "I think- no, I know I've fallen in love with you."

You smiled faintly, emphasis on 'faint' because there was nothing you wanted to do more than pass out and wake up from this nightmare. Todoroki Shoto was nothing but a spoiled, rich kid on paper. Sure, his father had significant power but that also meant you could charge much more for his release when you kidnapped him.

Unfortunately, hindsight was a coldhearted bitch. How were you supposed to know that he had his own fucking gang? What 23 year old man had that kind of power?? Why is it that the one time you decide to test your luck to get some extra cash, you kidnap a mafia boss???

"From the moment you tried to use that chloroform on me, I-I felt something," Todoroki rambled, interrupting your thoughts. "I was confused at first at the audacity but once I pretended to faint and you dragged me, very painfully I must say, to your van, I knew it had to be fate. I had read about fate before, but I never imagined that it would be this..." He trailed off and stared at your face in dreamlike wonder. "...beautiful."

You laughed awkwardly, silently noting the possibility of brain damage from when you moved him. "That's great man, but look-"

"It's more than great!" He leaned forward, his eyes gleaming excitedly as the ropes strained against him. "Nothing has ever made me feel this way before: flowers, money, the works, but the moment you tied me up, I knew we were-!"

"Look the whole kidnapping thing was a mistake. okay?" You interrupted abruptly. You ran your hands through your hair in frustration. Who knows how long you had until someone found you?

Todoroki's smile melted of his face. "A...mistake?"

"Yes! Exactly! It was just a wrong place, wrong time kind of situation! And I am sooooo sorry so let's just forget this ever happened and I'll even drop you off wherever you need to go." You finished with a nice 'im-so-sorry-for-kidnapping-you-please-dont-kill-me' smile.

He stared at you blankly for a full minute, making you sweat nervously. There was obviously a screw loose in his head and you really hoped you hadn't provoked him too badly.

"So you mean you never planned to kidnap me?" he asked quietly.

You shook your head. "I didn't. I'm sorry? I think..."

The silence echoed throughout the basement as precious seconds ticked by. Your hands itched to do something, but what? You weren't a murderer and there was no way you wouldn't face some kind of consequence so the only way out was to convince him to let the matter slide.

"Liar."

Todoroki chuckled at your dumbfounded expression. "Do you really I would believe that you kidnapped me, Shoto Todoroki, for a mere ransom?" He smiled adoringly up at you and you felt a chill run down your spine. "You wouldn't do something like this," he nodded down at his binds "For someone you don't love."

You backed away slowly. "Hey, you've got the wrong idea, I-"

"No, no I don't have wrong ideas," Todoroki drawled. "In fact I think I might be very right about this one soon."

"W-what...?" Suddenly, a loud pounding came from your front door above the basement. Loud, angry voices spilled into your home and stomped around, obviously looking for something. Or someone.

Todoroki looked almost apologetic as he smiled. "It looks like you'll have to make your choice now, my love. You just ran out of time."

You swore and hastily began cutting at his rope bindings as he watched in amusement. Fuck it. It was better to hang off the arm of this psycho than get caught by his men as his kidnapper. And he knew it too. You wanted to punch his stupidly pretty smug face.

"I'm so glad you decided to see thing my way, darling," Todoroki sighed, wrapping his arms around you. "And since you wanted me so badly, I'll give you exactly what you desire." He pressed your foreheads together just as the basement door splintered open.

"From now on, I'm never letting you out of my sight~"

READ PART 2 HERE

#obsessive love #obsessive yandere #yandere #bnha #boku no hero academia #fanfic #mha #my hero academia #yandere boyfriend #writers on tumblr #bnha shouto #shoto todoroki #shouto todoroki #yandere x reader #tw yandere #yandere boy #yandere shoto x reader #yandere shoto todoroki #yandere mha #yandere bnha #soft yandere #mafia au #mha imagines #mha headcanons #mha fanfiction #mha fic #bnha imagines #bnha headcanons #bnha fanfiction #yandere todoroki

[thedvilsinthedetails]

rosekiller microfic

Possibly NSFW but not explicit

toxic exes rosekiller

Based off ‘I like the way you kiss me’ by Artemas

some kind of house yearly switching au idk it’s a throwaway comment

you really need to listen to the song while you read this

Don’t you wanna make me proud? 

Cuz I’m so proud

Baby I’m so proud of you

I like the way you kiss me

I can tell you miss me

I can tell it hits hits hits hits

Not tryna be romantic

I’ll hit it from the back 

Just so you don’t get attached [kiss kiss kiss]

. . .

Barty had his hands tugging on Evan’s collar now. It wasn’t pretty or soft. And it definitely wasn’t loving. It was violent how he pulled him in. Violent how Evan forced his tongue into Barty’s mouth, how he rolled his hips and pulled on his hair. It was a fucking fight. And it was brutal as much as it was beautiful.

And honestly this was a bad idea but those were always Barty’s favourites anyway. Pus the music was so loud it couldn’t be his fault he’d edged to the quieter corners to down his drink. And the lights were that shadowy blue that makes Evan glow like some fallen angel it would be impossible for any person to resist when Evan had looked up and locked eyes with him. And Barty forgets all about how they’d tried this before and it never worked.

How Evan wasn’t an angel at all. How Barty was definitely bad for him. They were bad for each other. It didn’t matter though, not right now.

All he could think about was how he needed this. Needed Evan. Right now. It wasn’t rational.

Friends had tried to stop it, interfere. The issue was Barty didn’t feel bad about anything that was happening right now. Evan moaned into his mouth and Barty just gasped at it. At how it all felt so right. 

And Evan was pulling Barty out of the common room now, tugging his arm to the dorm they used to share before the houses changed. And Barty just followed in this wonderful dreamlike state. Evan. EvanEvanEvan. 

And he could tell from the way Evan had kissed him with that hungry desperation.

And he could tell from the way he could barely wait to rip Barty’s shirt off and shove him down onto the bed.

He felt the same.

Barty pressed his leg right between Evan’s. Relishing the groan it earned him. Evan trailed his mouth to Barty’s neck. Alternating between bruising kisses and bites.

Barty tossed his head to the side to give him more space. God he was relishing the idea of Evan’s marks all over him. 

“Evan.”

He whispered with a wide grin. Evan grunted against his skin in response.

“I heard you got a boyfriend no? Why are you here with me huh? Stai facendo qualcosa di cattivo con me?”

“No boyfriend.”

Evan replied.

“Dumped him a week ago, wasn’t good enough for me. Boring as fuck.”

“I’m better than him yeah?”

“Shut the fuck up. More Italian.”

Evan trailed his tongue down Barty’s neck to his collarbone. 

“Thought you wanted me to shut up mio bambolo.”

Evan shuddered at that.

Admit it, you miss me.”

“Already told you to shut up didn’t I?”

“I’m proud of you baby. Know your worth.”

“If I knew my worth I wouldn’t be making out with you right now.”

“Then don’t.”

Barty smirked.

Evan didn’t reply, just took hold of Barty and turned him over. They both knew what that had really meant.

…

“Fuck baby.”

Evan gasped, sweat slicked and panting as he collapsed next to Barty onto the bed. Barty just grinned his shitty little grin.

••• translations:

“stai facendo qualcosa di cattivo con me?” - Are you doing something naughty with me

“mio bambolo” - my doll

#Rosekiller #evan x barty #barty x evan #barty crouch jr #barty crouch junior #slytherin skittles #evan rosier #rosekiller fanfiction #marauders fandom #harry potter marauders #marauders era #rosekiller brainrot #rosekiller microfic #dead gay wizards #marauders #barty being barty #barty jr #barty crouch jr x evan rosier #evan being evan #evan rosier x barty crouch jr

[thecaffeinebookwarrior]

Foxglove

(Written by me. Originally published by Literary Times Magazine.)

I didn’t mean to summon the ghost.  Okay, I meant to, but I regretted it.

My friend Cyprus knew it was a bad idea from the start.  “You talk this way about every girl for two weeks, then you move on to someone else.  Just put a curtain over the portrait and forget about it.”

“I can’t.  Thinking about her hurts, and just the prospect of not thinking about her hurts more.  I dream about her pretty much every night.”

Cyprus closed his eyes.  His gold-rimmed glasses made him look like he was from another century.

I leaned across the table, making my eyes big.  “You can do it, right?”

“I’ve only recreated the ritual in a classroom setting, and only for animal spirits.”

“You’re a straight-A student.”

“That doesn’t mean I can do it.”

But he could.  

Ever since I moved here, the portrait of the actress had smirked down at me like a vixen.  She’d died young, in the early 1920s – this house is split into condos now, but it used to all be hers.

After my last breakup, I looked up photos of her.  She was most active during the 1910s, when stage actresses had a kind of dreamlike beauty: long tresses of dark hair, and huge, dewy, downturned eyes in the middle of a misty face.

I put the laptop down and went to bed thinking about her.  I dreamed about her pressed against me, warm and alive.  Since then, I couldn’t stop.

Cyprus showed up with a briefcase and his cat.

“Before I start, you should know I’m not doing this for you.”  He put his cat carrier in the center of the room.  He drew the sigils around it in chalk.  He set up the candles.  “I’m doing this because my professor said I could use it as an extra credit assignment.”

“It won’t hurt your cat, right?”

“I would never endanger General Pawshington.”

He had me sit cross-legged on the floor, then drew sigils around me too.  

Then he opened his briefcase and took out a yellowed sheet of paper.  “I can only say the words and perform the gestures,” he said.  “Your yearning has to be strong enough to call her here.  And then if she doesn’t want to stay, she can leave.”

“Got it.”

He started to chant, making swift finger motions, and I snickered.  

He paused.  “You have to think about her, or it won’t work.”

“Sorry.”

This time when he started to chant, I kept my eyes fixed on her portrait.  Even when she began to materialize over the cat carrier – out of the corner of my eye, I could make out the shape of a tiny hurricane, twisting into the shape of a woman.  I felt like if I looked at her, she’d vanish.

I imagined a relationship with a ghost.  A ghost would never change – if they wanted change, they wouldn’t be here.  They usually stayed tethered to one place.  I imagined coming home to her day after day, her tether to the outside world.

“No,” she screamed.  “No!”

I looked over at her.  She was as beautiful as her pictures, her black dress fading into gray mist at the skirt.  But she didn’t look sad or bemused, like she did in her photos.  She looked furious, the whites showing around her pupils, her dainty mouth twisted in rage.

She looked between me and Cyprus.  “Why would you do this?”

“I love you,” I blurted, at the exact same time Cyprus said, “Extra credit.”

She screamed so loud the cat hissed and the windows seemed to shake.

“Um,” I said, looking to Cyprus for guidance.

He didn’t look back.  Just stared up at her with fascination and regret.

She dematerialized, dissipating into mist that seemed to scatter against the ceiling, maybe through it.

“Was that…supposed to happen?” I asked.

“Some ghosts react badly to being summoned.  But if she’s unhappy here, she can return to the afterlife.”

She did not, for whatever reason, return to the afterlife.

It turned out that being haunted was not a fun experience.  I thought if I could just tell her about myself, she’d like me as much as I thought I’d like her, but she wasn’t interested in that.

She slammed doors.  Chilled rooms.  Flung objects.  Sobbed in the night.

“Can you please just talk to me?” I pleaded, after being woken up at 3 AM for the third time that week.  “I’m sorry!  I just wanted to meet you, that’s all!”

You know how when you’re in bed, you sometimes look up at the ceiling fan and picture it falling?  Well, that’s what happened next.  Fortunately, no bones were broken.

Cyprus’s extra credit assignment became his thesis project.  He came back as my neighbor was complaining to me about the new “poltergeist problem,” unaware I was responsible for it.

“And who are you?” the neighbor asked Cyprus.  “An exorcist?”

“Close.  I’m a student from the Providence College of Necromancy.”

“Great.  A student.  They always send kids to solve adult problems these days.”

Inside, Cyprus called, “Foxglove!”  For some reason, I don’t think I ever thought to address the actress by name.  “Foxglove, you have to stop, or they’re going to send an exorcist to get rid of you.”

She materialized out of the air like mist – the first time I’d seen her since we’d initially summoned her.  She really was so beautiful, her dark hair floating around her like a dream.  “It’s not fair,” she said.  “It’s my house.”

“I know,” he said, sadly.  Well, sadly for him.  He had a catlike way of emoting.

“I remember Heaven in flashes.  I don’t think you’re supposed to remember it while you’re on Earth,” she said, sounding frustrated but relieved at having someone to talk to.  “I want to go back so badly, but I don’t want to leave my life again.  All I can do is yearn for what I had before.”

“Maybe you can tell me about your life,” said Cyprus, not disguising the interest in his voice.  “I could write it down, and publish it.  And people could read about you.”

Her eyes looked sad, dewy, and hopeful, like they did in the portrait.  “I’d like that.”

I felt sidelined, like a third wheel.  It bothered me that she forgave his selfishness just because he was open about it – I wanted someone I could love, he wanted an extra credit assignment.

My goal was selfish too, in the context that I’d pulled her away from her life – or afterlife – in the hopes that she’d be a part of mine.  But wanting something to love wasn’t supposed to be selfish.  And if it was, that was supposed to be forgivable, if only because it was so human.

I’d apologized.  He hadn’t.  He was open about his self-interest, his fascination with the predicament he’d created.  But I could tell that if she forgave one of us, it would be him.  If she fell in love with one of us, it would be him.

That night, he stayed over to listen to her talk about her childhood, her poverty, her discovery.  About dancing and singing and playing Lady Macbeth, before performances were immortalized on film, when acting was still ephemeral.  About the day after she did too much laudanum and drifted under the surface of the tub.

She wanted to pull herself back past the surface, but she couldn’t.  She just couldn’t will her limbs to move.  “They say that those who take their own lives can’t get to Heaven,” she mused.  “I did.  But maybe that’s because I really wanted to live.”

Cyprus was listening, his recorder on the table next to him, taking notes.  He was interested in every word, wanting to capture as much as possible.  His intense curiosity, the Victor Frankenstein in him, was what made him a great student.

“I have some more questions I want to ask, about certain aspects of your life,” he said, switching off his recorder.  “Can I come back Thursday night?”

“I’ll be here,” she said.  Her dress had turned from black to white, and the mist she emanated had paled.

I could have tried talking to her.  

Instead, I called my ex, and told her what happened.

“It’s just like with me, James,” she sighed.  “You wanted her till she was a real person.”

It was true.  I’d never met a girl I could love more than an idea.

“It’s lonely for me too,” I said.

“I know.”

“Why do you think it’s so hard to love someone right?”

“Because when you do, it becomes something you want to give to them, not something you want to take.”  She said it like she’d been thinking about it for a long time, waiting for someone to ask.  “I think that’s why we spend most of our lives learning how to do it.”

#short fiction #original short story #ghost story #romance story #my writing #writing #fiction

[midnightbrightside]

Do you have any fluff to balance out your delicious angst?

i gotchu ❤

kristoph doesnt know when the wrights became part of his saturday morning walk with vongole, but they've somehow slid far too neatly into his routine. usually trucy is the conversationalist between the three of them, and today she's chatting about all kinds of space facts, apparently that's what she's been learning about in school recently.

turns out trucy loves the stars and would be able to see them all the time when she was travelling with her first daddy. she doesnt mean for that to come out like it does, but something flickers across Phoenix's face, something soft and helpless.

kristoph offers to drive them out of the city to see the night sky clearly, without any of the light pollution here in the city. the words leave his mouth before his brain has the chance to stop them. trucy looks ecstatic and she starts begging phoenix to take uncle kristoph up on the offer; of course phoenix agrees, and the gratitude shines in his eyes and weighs heavily on his shoulders.

it takes them a bit to find a a night where all of their schedules line up (phoenix wont let trucy stay up late on a school night), but it happens. the drive there is filled with chatter from trucy, she reminds kristoph of a younger klavier with all her noise and her grand way of speaking, bubbly and endlessly entertaining.

they arrive at a field and all 3 of them lay on the blanket as trucy chatters excitedly about miscellanous space facts and points out the constellations she recognises from her books, kristoph chips in with his own knowledge, and phoenix makes some up. trucy giggles and calls him silly, then she leans over to Kristoph and stage-whispers, “daddy doesnt know any of the stars." and kristoph nods solemly.

phoenix chuckles, "hm, i guess i don't. you'll have to teach me” an open invitation that trucy gladly takes.

her enthusiam is infectious and the two men are utterly charmed, she keeps going until she tires herself out. it's so quiet in the field now, it feels like it just the 3 of them in the entire world.

phoenix is the first to break the silence, “thank you, kristoph. this meant a lot to trucy” and me goes unsaid but heard nonetheless. “i owe you one” he says a little quieter.

“nonsense, i enjoyed myself, that's payment enough” and it should be a lie, but it doesnt feel like one.

it goes quiet again, and kristoph feels phoenix's hand brush against his, soft enough to be an accident. kristoph darts his eyes to the side without turning his head. phoenix is still looking intently at the sky, it's too dark to make sense of his expression. the gentle, barely-there contact burns at his fingertips and spreads across his body, he can feel his heart thundering in his chest like it wants to escape. he wants to escape. he doesnt move closer, he doesnt pull away either. Neither does Phoenix.

they stay there in perfect stillness for a while, it's almost dreamlike. for perhaps the first time, kristoph's head is empty. he could stay here forever.

trucy stirs, and phoenix blinks back to reality, "we should probably head back," he says. kristoph agrees and drives them home. they all linger in the doorway as trucy sleeps in phoenix's arms, he gently jostles her awake “say thank you to uncle kristoph."

trucy mumbles a tired “thanoo….” and phoenix smiles down at her, so full of love. kristoph has the strangest urge to kiss him.

he doesnt. instead he says his goodbyes and heads back to his car, the moment the door thuds closed the spell is broken. he grips the steering wheel and wills his chest to stop aching.

#side note but WAAAAAAA i never expected my inbox to be this full of ppl wanting to hear my krisnix thoughts!! makes me so happy #also i finally became concious of how much i ramble and added a readmore to this one lol #krisnix #kristoph gavin #phoenix wright #trucy wright #ace attorney #ace attorney headcanon #phoenix wright: ace attorney #queue were in love #mine

[actuallysaiyan]

Kinktober Day 16: Royalty(Planet Queen)

warnings/kinks: royalty kink, Vegeta in heat, Planet Vegeta AU, slight degradation, fellatio, female masturbation, mentions of virginity. pairings: Prince!Vegeta x Fem!Saiyan!Reader word count: 1.4k tag list: @beneathstarryskies, @ricflairdrip20, @witchofcustom, @loki-love, @xailem. @the-eternal-sunflower

You never really believed yourself to be anyone special. You fought as hard as you could just like the other Saiyans. You did your best to stay in line and try not to stand out too much. But someone took a liking to you, and now this is how you end up being the prince’s sparring partner. It’s something that you never believed would happen.

At first, he was as arrogant as ever. You treated him with so much kindness and remembered to be on your best behavior. He would tease you to no end, making you feel ashamed of yourself. You knew he could be spoiled, but you never imagined it to be so bad. You just swallowed your pride and sparred with the prince. You knew that if he got bored of you, he’d never want to spar with you again.

One day, he doesn’t show up to train. You aren’t sure what to expect. Vegeta always trains, every single day. He makes sure to let you know too. He won’t miss a chance to brag or to gloat. But today, he isn’t here. Nor is he there tomorrow. And the next day, he is also absent. You begin to get a little more worried than you’d like to admit.

So you inquire about him, but nobody wants to say anything to you. Everyone is afraid to invoke the wrath of the prince, and you understand that better than most. But you want to make sure he isn’t truly hurt…or worse. You make your way to the palace one day, with the intent on taking care of him if he is ill or he is injured.

It’s one of the handmaidens that lets you into his room. He’s on the bed, a layer of sweat coating his body. He looks so rough, and you can tell he is angry that you’re here. You make your way over to the bed and you kneel before it. The handmaiden leaves you both alone, and you begin begging for forgiveness.

“Please, my prince,” you say as you take his hand in yours. “I only wanted to see if you were alright.”

He scoffs at your actions but his cock twitches in his pants, “You’re the one who got me into this situation in the first place.”

You gasp, “What do you mean, my prince?”

This makes him groan. You’re worried he may be too weak to even have company right now. But something feels different. He’s looking at you with hunger in his eyes. His tail comes over and you shudder as it strokes you softly. Then it intertwines with yours. You hear him purring softly, and this other hungry sound rumbles from him.

“Can’t you tell?” He asks, and he pulls you onto the bed with him. “You’ve caused me to go into heat.”

Your cheeks redden, “N-no. That’s impossible, my prince.”

He grunts, “Love it when you call me that,”

Your cheeks are so red now. You’re embarrassed by all of this. How could you, a nobody, cause the prince to go into heat? You wonder how you could help remedy this situation. If you really are the cause of all of this, you know you need to rectify this problem. It makes you worry a little, considering you haven’t done a whole lot with anyone else. You’re still pure.

“What’s the matter? Aren’t you going to help your prince?”

You swallow hard, “Of course. I-I…just, uh don’t know what to do.”

“You’re still pure?” Vegeta spits out, his tone smug. You feel yourself wanting the bed to just swallow you up so you can disappear from the situation altogether.

You blink a few times, wondering if this is maybe all a dream. But no, it’s real. This is reality and not some dreamlike fantasy you’ve thought up to calm your feelings for the prince. You lean in closer to him, and he moans when your scent catches him off guard. You tell him how you are meant to be pure until your wedding day. He chuckles at your words, mocking how your values are outdated.

“Okay, but I’m the prince. And you caused this, so you better learn quickly.”

Your mouth gets dry, “Of course, my prince.”

He guides you to settle between his thighs. Vegeta’s mind is so clouded with lust that he can barely think of quips or insults to throw at you. Especially as he watches you settle so cutely between his thighs, and with your eyes so wide.

“Take off my pants,” he commands.

Your hands shake, but you do as he says. His cock slaps against his abdomen as it springs free from the confines of his pants. Your mouth waters as you watch it leaking, and you wonder what the clear precum might taste like.

“Don’t be shy. Take it into your hand,” his voice is a little too soothing. When you don’t react, he grabs your wrist and pulls you towards his cock. “Do as your prince commands.”

Even his size was so impressive and intimidating, and you weren’t sure what else to do now that his cock is in your hand. He places his hand on top of yours, and he begins guiding you to stroke him. Vegeta lets out a sexual moan as you begin your own clumsy pace. It feels so good to have the person who caused his heat to pleasure him. But especially that you don’t really know what you’re doing, you’re so innocent and so pliable. It turns him on.

“You’re a good girl,” he mumbles through breathy moans.

To say you’re aroused would be an understatement. You don’t know if you’ve ever wanted anything more in your life. You were so lucky to have the prince as a sparring partner, but to have him as your lover, it would be something you never could have conceived in your mind ever. You’re so excited, but you want to do your best for him. He is your prince, after all.

“Why don’t you put it in your mouth? Suck on it, hm?” His tone is no longer teasing, but instead he sounds like he is pleading a little bit.

“Oh! O-okay!”

He loves your eagerness. He was going to gloat and brag and be a tease this whole time, but he is way too horny to think about making you feel bad about learning how to fuck. He’ll be the only Saiyan allowed to touch you. You’ll become his wife, and then you’ll rule over the planet together.

You lean in, kissing and licking the slit of the tip of his cock. Vegeta hisses, and you back up at the sound. You’re afraid you might have hurt him. But one glance into his lust filled eyes, and you know you’re doing the right thing. Your lips wrap around the head of his cock before you feel his hands pushing down on your head. It’s not long before you are taking the rest of him into your mouth.

Once the tip of his cock hits the back of your throat, you choke and sputter. You weren’t ready to take on something so thick into your mouth. But with some gentle coaxing from your prince, you find a rhythm that is suitable for you. You breathe through your nose and bob your head, and Vegeta is just enjoying watching you get more comfortable with your own sexuality.

“That’s it,” Vegeta grunts, “Pleasure your prince.”

You need to rub your thighs together for a little relief from all this sexual tension. You’re so aroused, you let your hand reach down between your thighs and you tease yourself through your spandex suit. Vegeta growls as he watches you slowly become his cockhungry slut. This is the greatest thing he could imagine happening to him. And the more you continue to suck on his cock and finger your little pussy, the closer he gets to the edge.

“Such a good little mouth. Bet your little pussy feels good too,”

You can only moan in response, which causes his cock to twitch in your mouth. Then you continue to suck him off, and you are sloppy about it too. All of this proves to be too much for Vegeta, who falls over the edge. He pulls you off his cock and strokes himself to completion. Ropes of hot cum hit your face and mouth, and soon you are covered in his seed. It’s a sight quite to behold.

“Good girl,” Vegeta says after he has caught his breath. “Now, let me breed you.”

#bacon.writes #kinktober 2022 #kinktober day 16 #vegeta #vegeta x you #vegeta x reader #vegeta x y/n #vegeta x fem!reader #prince vegeta #prince vegeta x you #prince vegeta x y/n #prince vegeta x reader #dragon ball #dragon ball z #dragon ball super #vegeta smut #dragon ball smut #prince vegeta smut

[blueskittlesart]

Tell me your thoughts on the link is dead in MM theory?

yeah ok. i feel like it's pretty widely known at this point that i do not care for it but let's really go into why. in the post that i assume prompted this ask i compared it to a similar permadeath botw theory in that i feel both theories only work if one ignores the central theme of the game in question. in terms of theme, majora's mask and botw are quite similar. both feature a highly traumatized link after a hard-reset of his life and follow the beginning of his healing process.

majora's mask features the hero of time after the timeline reset. He is physically a nine-year-old boy, but he has spent significant time in the body of a sixteen-year old and he has spent much of his life essentially as a child soldier without any regard for his feelings. he has fought monsters that adults twice his size and age refused to get within 200 feet of, and NO ONE REMEMBERS THIS, because in order to restore hyrule to what it once was he went back and stopped it all before it even began. understanding what has been done to link and how he remembers the events of oot are crucial to understanding mm.

now we have the actual setting of mm, termina. termina is deliberately strange and off-putting immediately upon entering it. you as the player are meant to pick up on the fact that something is off about your surroundings. the entire game plays this up--something is Wrong about termina. you're never supposed to be completely sure if it's real or a dreamscape. truly, i don't fault people for looking at a deliberately offputting, dreamlike, horror-filled world like termina and equating it to some sort of afterlife. the skull kid himself is often interpreted as a metaphor for death in oot--being a child who wandered into the forest and never came out. (i personally see it more as a reflection of oot's greater themes of coming-of-age and adult/child relationships, but that's a point for another post.) i do understand that the evidence for the theory is THERE, and that the tendency to want to explain away the offputting environment of termina as link being dead is kind of natural. but I think it's worth examining WHY termina is the way it is; how its weird vibe ties back to mm's central themes and link's story arc within it. and when you do, in my opinion, the theory falls apart pretty quickly.

majora's mask is a story about healing from trauma. Link, as previously mentioned, is a child soldier who feels trapped between childhood and adulthood and who has seen firsthand that nothing he does matters because in the end no one but him will remember it. termina is designed to enforce this point of view, initially. link can do everything in his power to help the people of termina, to fix their problems, to be a good kid, but at the end of those 3 days no matter what he does the moon will always come crashing down and he will always have to reset. no one will remember him. he can't change anything, not really. but as you play through the game, you find one thing that DOESN'T go away with each reset--the masks. these are given as rewards for link's good deeds--physical representations of the good he has done, even after everything resets. even though he remains trapped in this cycle, he gains a little something for every person he helps, something that can't be taken away from him. he begins to have hope that everything he does isn't in vain. he begins to HEAL.

on the final cycle, when you've completed all the dungeons and you stop the moon, the game performs a check to see if you have all the masks. if you've done every one of the side quests and helped the people in termina, even though they don't remember it. the check comes in the form of a game of hide-and-seek, a metaphorical return to the childhood that link feels he has lost. if every mask has been collected, link receives the fierce diety mask, making the final battle with majora quite a bit easier. he becomes more powerful because he has taken the time to grow and heal and learn that what he does matters no matter if people remember him or not. this is a central point of majora's mask. and when he wins, when he comes out the other side, the message that greets the player is "Dawn of a new day." a promise that the story will continue. a promise of many more days to come. a promise that the cycle has been broken and everyone in termina, link included, can finally begin to truly live.

again, i think the tendency to equate an obviously metaphorical dreamlike world like termina to an afterlife is somewhat natural. but to suggest that link is dead in the context of a game that is fundamentally about link HEALING and continuing to LIVE is kind of ridiculous imo. a world can be strange and function as a metaphor without being an afterlife. the tendency to try to explain termina's oddity is natural, but the fact that it's not explained is part of the point. whether it really exists or not doesn't matter, what matters is that the spiritual journey link went on DID happen, and he came out the other side able to continue living. he broke the cycle. now a new day can begin. THAT is the point of majora's mask. if link is dead, then that point loses ALL of its impact. what awaits link after breaking termina's cycle if he's dead?? to me, it's tantamount to suggesting his fate WAS sealed. that it's TRUE that nothing he did mattered and he was too late to truly change anything. nothing you do matters when you're dead. mm just functions so much better on a thematic level if link is allowed to continue living in the aftermath.

#asks #zelda analysis #this isnt the first time ive explained this but the zelda fandom never ceases with its bad takes sooo

[velvetcloxds]

if you're too shy- send me a character and a scenario and I'll write a little baby blurb for it

DILF Aaron "Hotch" Hotchner falling in love with a beautiful chubby girl! Just sweet slow soft gentle cosy fluffiness where he’s holding her close and comforting her, giving her kisses and loving her thighs and belly, please? Thank you!

REAL | A.H.

word count: 1.2k

warnings: utter simp behavior from both of them, plus size reader- I love this sm

Aaron was admittedly humoring you, not nearly as interested in your thousandth rewatch of Dirty Dancing as he seemed to be, truly just taking the chance to let his mind wander, his hands doing some wandering of their own. There was a nagging part of you that considered this a waste of your fleeting time, having him home early being something awfully rare, unheard of for the most part, and so laying on the couch barely watching a movie seemed unfitting.

But it wasn't the movie that had your attention, had you captivated- your focus had drifted shortly after Baby's first dance lesson-lost in your lover's features as you counted his lashes, connected the beauty marks like constellations, considered every little scar that remnants a quick shave before work. He was kind in pretending not to notice, not to feel the almost burning intensity of your gaze, though selfishly he allowed the distraction as it gave him the chance to appreciate you in his own way. It meant you wouldn't object to him moving you from beside him to on top of him, wouldn't shy away from him slipping one hand up your shirt, tracing slow, electrifying patterns into your back, relishing in soft skin without any objection. The other hand on your neck, keeping you still, bettering your view of him, your pulse under his fingertips beckoning him further away from his thoughts.

You couldn't quite believe it, how natural it all felt, how normal it seemed in all its entirety that this was something you got the chance to do, to feel, to be part of. Loving Aaron was easy, it came as natural as breathing, as living and you'd never allow yourself to forget how lucky you were, having spent so long without him, having been so painfully alone before him- it felt almost too good to be true, like a dream you'd be rudely shaken awake from at any second. Odder than anything was the fact that he loved you just as much, if not more, that was the part that felt most surreal, most dreamlike, that he in all of his perfection, all of his complicated existence deemed you loveable, worthy of doting on- it was absurd, so you thought, he would very dramatically disapprove of the notion had you ever brought it up, but even if you hadn't, he knew the idea grew like ivy through your thoughts.

Your fingers were delicate as they brushed over his cheek, pulling away just as quickly as they touched him, your brows furrowing as a result as you did the same to the other cheek, then his nose, his forehead, under his eyes, then slower and far too careful over his lips, lingering slightly as he hesitantly looked at you, knowing that breaking your trance would make you aware of his burning touch but he couldn't help himself.

"Still real?" he breathed and you nodded, entranced still, as if your mind hadn't caught up just yet to your reality as you looked him over for about the millionth time, impossible to get enough and you surprised him by shifting even closer to him, resting more of your weight on him.

"Just had to check," you explained and he hummed in understanding, squeezing your waist as his hand drifted lower, cupping a handful of the doughy flesh into his palm as you fought not to react to the gesture, not to pull away- if he was so surprisingly intent on loving you then it was only fair you let him, however way he pleased. You didn't expect him to lean forward to kiss you, the kiss almost as unreal as him as you breathed into his lips, smiling when he didn't pull away, instead moving his kisses all over your face, scattering them down the path of your cheekbone, to your throat, humming eagerly into your neck and managing to send a shiver right down your spine, coating your whole body in goosebumps and you smiled shyly into the air. "Aaron," you giggled and the sound tickled through his body, earning another breathy groan from him before he looked up at you.

"Still real?" he asked again and you wanted the couch to swallow you into it, because he was definitely starting to convince you that this wasn't some fever dream, but that you really were lost in his arms, in his love and you never wanted to be found, content in his wonderland.

"I think so," you whispered, and when your hands cupped his face this time you didn't let them fall away, thumb brushing over the stubble as you readied yourself to decipher the spots in his eyes, the strokes of color around his pupils, count the veins- he had other ideas.

"You don't sound convinced," he quipped and you wished he couldn't tell, wish he couldn't read you so well when you just barely managed past his front page, still digging through the pages, figuring out the world of him. "What's holding you up?"

"Everything," you admitted, hazel you realized, his eyes, the color was hazel in the light of the living room, specks of brown, hints of green, definitely hazel. "You're like something I made up," you explained to him, it wasn't the first time, he considered that it would hardly be the last. "Something I shouldn't have," you added and hummed, the other eye had a beauty mark just off the center, you'd not seen it before, too subtle, but it was more prominent this close.

"According to who?"

"Me," you deadpanned and you wanted to take it back, it made him frown, made his brows dip down and you couldn't focus on his eyes anymore, they held more than color, more than sight of the world but rather sight of you, your heart. "I want to take it all in," you breathed and his hold was tightening, desperate for more, desperate to steal you out of your head- you closed your eyes, sealing his features into a little folder in your mind.

"I want you to look at me," his voice was lower than before, briefly overpowered by the song playing on screen, but you didn't fight his request, looking at him just as eagerly as before and he melted, his heart soaring around in his ribcage. "I'm real, sweetheart," he promised and his hands had no shame as he gripped you, grounding you, grounding him. "We're real, you and I, don't get so lost in trying to remember it that you don't let yourself live it, feel it," he matched the words with another kiss, and you sighed into the feeling, desperate to deepen it as he pushed you against him, heartbeats syncing, bodies melting together.

"You're real," you agreed into his mouth, interrupted by his hungry lips as he leaned deeper into the kiss, stealing the oxygen from your lungs, robbing the sense from your head, claiming the feeling in your body, waking you up and hypnotizing you in the same sense.

"And all yours."

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x yn #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner drabble #aaron hotchner one shot #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fic #monique's writing events #right where queue left me

[2n2n]

ch 108

WEWWWWWW!!!!!!!! amazing times.

ghoul.... mmm... you look amazing honey

distractions

what is it with aida-sensei wwwww... if it's not Mokke running all around playing sillay little games in the BG it's a detail like this... well I love it very much

It's good to see Akane indict the Clockkeepers in some sense. The real threat indeed...

here we go AGAIN~

poor little songbird~~

it's the captive princesses ... Nene-chan.... I really adore you... you are pure of heart... you have to absorb and appreciate your scenery and role, don't you... it suits you. Unfortunately, even despite your intentions to do this secretly while he sleeps for some self-indulgent reason, I don't think Tsukasa can perceive your fetish, as he is too innocent. Now, you need to show it to Amane....

so kind of you to try to free you both at once, Nene-chan.... you really warmed up to him, didn't you?

N-Nene-chan animal theater.... I love when Aida-sensei does this so much!!!!!!

whore drawing...

but.. I really love to get to see a listless Tsukasa. I've been waiting forever... it's very cute that fatigue makes him depressive and unmotivated! I like that he's not trying at all and just laying down... Tsukasa strikes me as ah, not tolerant of bad stimuli...? the kind of boy who needs to keep his shirt untucked and his suspenders loose to the point of falling off... who can't tolerate a movie theater longterm. It's a charm point, part of this childishness... if he's bored, he just leaves ... if he's tired, he just lays down...

I'm so fascinated that his Tsueshiro are rendered inert, now. I couldn't imagine-- not when the general time power itself couldn't effect him like it did Amane... and, since Amane's Tsueshiro is operating perfectly normally, this means what happens to one doesn't touch the other...

Th-thank you for having beliefs like this, Nene-chan.... please, please think about how they are twins. It makes their minds special, doesn't it? Surely.

another instance to add to the list of 'Tsukasa having a surprising amount of faith in Nene-chan"! WELL-PLACED FAITH !!!! she's amazing isn't she....! this chapter....!

meanwhile.... a wrecking ball smashes into our minds...

what an incredibly intense bit of lore for the Yugi. I love how Tsukasa approaches 'facts'-- with a practical sense, without seeming morose or mired in what could seem a grim absolute. It's just like his delivery of, "Amane hates me" as his younger self.... Tsukasa doesn't lie to himself, doesn't pull away from what is true, but neither does he express resentment, or any expectation or wish for it to be any different. Amane is Amane. Tsukasa knows Amane. I really don't think Tsukasa imagines ... change ... in their dynamic, as much as Amane also struggles avidly with the idea of having anything 'new' as a ghost. I'm sure that is why Tsukasa is seemingly aiming for Amane to rip him asunder again....

He can't seem to be sad about what he doesn't have, because he just doesn't fathom having it in the first place. I... think that's, the purpose of, Nene-chan... to make Tsukasa consider what he doesn't have, or what could be had. Despite being the wish agent, I don't think Tsukasa wishes for much. I think Nene-chan does that for Amane too, of course... I think she's meant to give both the Yugi an impetus for seeing more. For wishing.

whatever part of Tsukasa may have mouthed Amane's name despite his own belief, he does seem to feel something profound....

you're acting tsun and fussy at a time like this.....

I hope Amane heard their entire exchange ... I imagine he would feel quite stubborn and fussy about what Tsukasa's so easily declared as a fact about him. I wonder how he feels about it.... "never come when called by you?"

I am sure every single second, feeling his weight accounted for and bared by Amane's body, is dreamlike. I doubt he can believe what he's feeling! For real.. Amane's arm! Carrying you! In equal measure to carrying Nene-chan!! THERE COULDN'T BE A BETTER MORE IDEAL PANEL FOR EXPRESSING AMANE'S LOVE FOR THE TWO--!!! these little GOONS!! also, this panel kind of gives you lewd thoughts

I'm sure.... if Amane showed up, Tsukasa expected Nene-chan to be plucked from his hands, and to continue to watch them pivot away to safety, while he falls down into the dark pit.. left to his own devices to figure out how to get out. He had to get out of Amane's boundary by himself, didn't he? and Tsukasa wouldn't be sad about it….! Really. It would be Amane being Amane, to him. He expects it, and it's fine. He loves Amane, anyway. He'd die for an Amane who he believes hates him. That's the kind of person Tsukasa is.

a moment to appreciate Tsukasa releasing his own hold on the edge of the cage, to catch Nene-chan...

A wonderful display. I don't think he thinks twice about it.... not a choice to plummet himself to oblivion, but an instinct. That's just like him, isn't it....?

I'll talk a little more about cages, crying for help, beseeching, at the end... because I have a few more thoughts about it!

ughhh save your princesses ♥♥♥♥ I can't believe you've threaded Tsukasa's bound arms around your neck.... ♥♥♥ God do I wish I could see it second by second....

you're making all my dreams come truuuueee Amaneeeeeehhhhh ♥♥♥♥ all three...!!! your two precious things....!!! ohhhhh our heroooo ♥♥♥♥ dashing in his cape.........

y-you remove Nene-chan's shackles but not Tsukasa's .......

if that is how you want me, master... wwwww

goobie woobie oobie baby Nene-chan in Hanako's arms. Hanako experiencing a new lolicon emotion. Ohhhhhhhhh sweet darling preciousness.... it's not so bad to experience a little bit of pain for such an incredible pleasure, right??

oh all this build up and sweating and shaking to say absolutely nothing in response is so incredibly Amane. She loves you just the way you are, thankfully.... we all do.....

I like DBS's TL of Tsu here better than the MangaUP actually AHAH... mangaUP did "good for you." which I think in ENGLISH carries a bitter connotation that I genuinely do not think Tsukasa has lol. He just talks in a naturally simple way lol.

god. Amane you'd love to get away with doing things with no commentary but unfortunately you have a funny little bug of a brother who is obsessed with you.... what an. amazing and perfect Yugi interaction. Amane obviously being pissy. extremely. Tsukasa keying into it. Amane lying blatantly but stubbornly doubling down anyway. Tsukasa continuing to ask like a little pest. Oouuuh. Boyce... brothers....

ohhh Tsu-chan... you can't... imagine.... the kinds of feelings... Amane has about that kiss... okay... he can't begin t o .. articulate ... any of it at all ... I'm sure he would honestly like it to be as simple as 'mad' ....

personally I enjoy that this makes it obvious it wasn't really Tsukasa's intention ... but I think it's cute to him Amane is still thinking about it despite all the circumstances and events lol.... I actually think Amane is being very charitable and maybe the best big brother he can manage to be here ............ I would give him a treat if I could ... not gonna yell at Tsukasa.... not gonna lash out rn.... contain it....

now I would like to say something funny lol. Tsukasa's line here is actually incredibly ambiguous:

he doesn't actually make reference to Nene-chan, it's like " Amane kiss also?" in that casually threadbare way JP can be ... it means the fujoshi are free to interpret "he's pointing to himself, is he referring to Amane kissing him?" playfully aahahahaa... I'm sad its hard to preserve that kind of ambiguous way of phrasing something!!! it's sad that kind of "wait what did he mean" funny discussion can't happen here, mangaUP also just had him directly refer to kissing Nene-chan.... I'm SUUUUURE it's 'meant that way' but, like, I love when coach lets the girlies play....!!!! they are loving this panel.... its way funnier vague .... Amane ? kiss ? too ? wwwww

AN AMAZING EVENT!!!!

LOVE to see Amane THROWING Nene-chan into Tsukasa's arms, Tsukasa dutifully catching her carefully, Amane trusting he will catch her...!!!! Well I have to say it... it's been funny watching the fandom predict a lot of animosity and hatred in all directions that just isn't there ahahaha. All these expectations for Amane to punch and maim Tsukasa in jealous rage, and instead, you have him relying on his brother to help protect her, and trying to graciously handle the situation. The Yugi... they always surprise you by how familiar they really are...

I'm in love with every time Amane seamlessly commands Tsukasa by saying his name... ♥♥♥ look at him, being such a useful otouto even though Amane hasn't granted him the use of his arms back, and the spell making him fatigued... ♥♥♥ even with a ball and chain on his ankle, Tsukasa can run for Nene-chan...!!

I don't have many profound feelings about Teru and Akane lol, they are just very funny to me-- ultimately neither's alliance is truly with one another, despite that I do believe Akane is one of the only people Teru is his true self around. A complicated closeness which is easily broken .... Akane would kill Teru for Aoi, Teru would kill Akane for his little siblings, these are things I think of as fact. It's such a tenuous bond and, they are mutually aware ... but kind of, struggle with betrayal and reliance and trust and dependence on one another's skills and support. I like how KILL TRAIN Teru is here lol. He's got plenty pent up concerning Akane ... unlike Kou, I think Teru is much more capable of "when push comes to shove..." and suspending empathy or compassion ... even if he could later hold remorse. Crazy Minamoto conditioning and such ...

Interested in the greater machinations and Akane's vagueries, but I don't have thoughts about them. Happy to wait for more (:

stupid ... uke .....

--pomf-- ooo get humped idiot

A FEW EXTRA THOUGHTS ...! pertaining to.... Tsukasa's ominous statement, that Amane would not come if he called... that he "never has before"

what a tantalizing thing to say. When, at what point in time? It conjures the image of a Tsukasa pleading for Amane-- something I'm sure many of us, can't even imagine. I haven't thought of a begging Tsukasa, wanting to be saved. He is so typically 'fine' where he is, even if that circumstance is unpleasant.... even at age 4. In a normal situation, it's hard to imagine Tsukasa calling for help from Amane ... and it's hard to imagine Amane, that sweet older brother, not simply sheltering him. He's sweet to Tsukasa, at 4. He's happy to read to him, and tries to put on a calm front for him while so ill, so as not to worry him. Amane cared about Tsukasa, of course! He's even charmed by the Tsukasa absorbed in katanuki for hours at 8. Wouldn't that Amane come running if called? .... but would that Tsukasa cry out for him .... ?

So.....

when, how? The only Tsukasa we've seen a glimpse of post-ghosting is the coffin boy, who appears quite inert and dead. He certainly can't call for Amane. The Tsukasa at the start of this series, struggled to even get used to moving at all. Is there a stage we don't know about?

How much could Tsukasa call him with no answer, until he ultimately concludes it simply will never be replied to? Why would he think that it is specifically himself Amane won't respond to? Only doing something once or twice, wouldn't create conviction like that. In order to say something like, "this person never ____", you would think there would be extraneous circumstances that proved ... beyond a shadow of doubt ... that it simply is the way things are. Tsukasa is so shocked to see Amane appear, and save him ... that belief has to be rooted in something Tsukasa took to heart.

Perhaps something happened when they were alive .... we really don't know what that final year was like.

Whatever the case... Amane does love Tsukasa-- unlike Tsukasa, we have the benefit of knowing this completely! In our hearts! There are circumstances where, because Amane loves you, and wants to protect you, he ignores your cries....

I wonder when, why, how... Amane wouldn't come when Tsukasa finally called. I wonder why Tsukasa would call for him ....

Honestly, if Amane didn't love Tsukasa, the possibilities wouldn't be so scary. They are much more haunting, knowing how much he loves his little brother. I can't wait to learn more about Amane!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I want to see the Tsukasa pleading for his brother!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I wonder how hopeless we have had to get .... !

#avvy's JSHK

[vewyscawywriting]

The Only Real Sin is to Deny a Craving

Okay so am I insane for writing this? Perhaps. I was over at friends and when I asked what I should write for next they said Tahm Kench, and I took that as a challenge. Because of course. This one is for the freaks I guess :P

Fandom: League of Legends

Pairing: Tahm Kench x F!Summoner!Reader

Wordcount: 2871 words

Tags: pussy eating, overstimulation, vore (if you squint)

Summary: Tahm Kench offers to show you the prettiest places along the river, and can't help himself from hungering. But his appetite for you is different from the usual.

It was official. You were somehow magical and also so very, very cursed. The River King had his eyes on you, and there was no hiding from him. Well, who exactly could you hide from in this place and with your abilities? 

The first time he came up to you and promised you a good time beyond your imagination you had almost shat yourself. Both in fear since, you know, Tahm Kench is a big guy... demon... thing, and also because what the fuck was he talking about? Those words coming from anyone else would've been a dream, but from him? Threatening beyond compare. What was he gonna do? Gobble you up, taxi you somewhere where the sunset looked all inviting and romantic and gobble you up for realsies in a "this isn't sexy I'm actually getting killed, this isn't a euphemism for sex, i can't state this enough, send help"- kinda way? It was a real possibility, no, scratch that, that was the only possibility. When he told you he could take you to the best spots along the river, fitting for an absolute doll like you, you practically choked on your drink.

"Are there many?" you gasped out after you got your breathing back under control, and you had no idea where this question even came from. Why were you humouring him? What was wrong with your brain?

"So many," he purred back, inclining his head and tipping his hat to you, "But only the best is good enough for your eyes, pretty thing."

Well, when he called you pretty thing in that southern drawl of his, how could you remain unaffected? The man had a way with words, and to be honest all he had to do was butter you up a little and you'd probably let yourself get whisked away like some sort of moron. In your brain a visual of some sort of list - quite like Pyke's - started to manifest itself, but instead of names for killing they were names of previous trysts with champions. The name Tahm Kench seemed to appear in vague strokes at the bottom, signalling some kind of future - tantalisingly inviting and dangerous and insane. Your mental state seemed to be more fragile than ever when you replied: "That sounds really interesting."

"I could take you the usual way, or if you want to give those pretty legs a workout we can walk along the river shores to where we want to go. Well, you know what I'd advise." He eyed you up, and you shivered. Or shuddered. It could have been both. Should have been just the shudder. "No reason for you to tire yourself out just yet."

Promising. Arousing. He was a large frog (sorry - Catfish), and this really shouldn't be.

"Give me some time to think about it." Your answer should've been a hard no, but really what reason did you have to reject him at this point. Your tryst list was long and extensive, and there were only 154 champions left to go. He could take one off the tally. You were insane. His tongue could probably reach your throat from your pussy. "I meant yes, that sounds amazing."

"Well, and here I thought you were just going to bat your eyes, but colour me surprised. So what will it be, or no, don't even answer sweet, I can see it in your pretty little eyes." - and the monsters jaw unhinged.

It was a strange, cosy feeling, like you were embraced in a warm all encompassing hug. You could get used to this, it made you feel a strange sense of safety-

and the next second you were out. You looked around slightly bewildered. Going from a dreamlike state to real life in a second got your brains needing second to catch up. He had dropped you off at the shoreside, where the river met the sea in a small waterfall, the sun rising just over the horizon as under your feet was a plaid blanket and a basket of food. Second breakfast came as a romantic picnic and you gasped.

"Well Dove, it's time I leave you to it then. Give a yell and I'll be back in a second, wouldn't want to spoil the view you see, or your appetite." And before you could reply he had already waddled his way into the river, leaving you alone with the food and the sound of flowing water. You were a little disappointed that he left. All the times the two of you had spoken he had been a gentleman and amazing conversation partner. His smooth, drawling voice had you feeling all kinds of ways, but the silence of the morning slowly getting filled with the sound of birds was something could definitely get used to as well. After you opened the basket you found it filled to the brim with sandwiches and sweets, and you wondered idly where he'd gotten the basket. There was no way he made this for you himself, there was no way. Lost in thought you took a bite of the food, watching the sun rise with a calm feeling washing over you. Yes, you could definitely get used to this. The spot next to you seemed a little lonely.

He was back right at the moment you were starting to feel like you were done.

"All done fattening up, dove?" he said, jokingly (you hoped), "I hope you enjoyed the humble meal, didn't have time to get anything fancy for someone like you, but I hoped the view would help with digestin'. Now, are you ready to head to the next place?"

You nodded and were whisked away again. Put onto solid ground minutes later, though it felt like seconds, you noticed he had taken you to another cosy spot. Sun filtering through the trees to make sure you only got the best of the rays, as wildflowers bloomed around you, busy bees flitting around creating a nice buzzing sound around you. After that second breakfast, sitting in the sun, alone with nothing or no one distracting you, you felt yourself dozing off. The first two times your eyes fell closed you caught yourself, stopping your head from dropping back against the rough bark of the tree, but the third time the lure of sleep got you in its clutches and you were unable to deny. During your little nap you could faintly hear the soft purring of a low voice, just speaking to the side of you, but you could not hear what he said. Or feel like listening when the sound alone was so soothing and lulling you back into sleep so sweetly. When you woke up the spot next to you was painfully empty.

"Well, it is high time for our final spot, beau," he drawled as you finally realised you were actually awake in such a pretty place. Tahm had good taste, and you couldn't wait to see what the last spot was he would drop you in, a little sad that it almost seemed to be the end of the date already.

"Now, for this one spot I want to take a little walk," he said, and you groaned as you stretched. The sun was already setting and you wondered how long you had been asleep, and why you even went to sleep out in the open with the River King as your sole companion in the first place. "It's a real special place, you see. Don't have a pretty thing on my arm that often, can't fault a man for trying to draw this out."

You were certain there was a blush on your face. You knew the demon was known for smooth talking, but never had you actually heard him seduce quite so literally. 

The reflection of the sunset on the river that wildly raged beside you had you almost blinded, and you let him guide you to the final spot, trusting him to keep you steady and safe. What a delectable fool you were. If he wanted to devour you he could have done so many times by now, but he was a patient man, and he hungered for something a little different than the usual today. 

A small stumble had you almost tumbling into the glistening river, but you were held steady as Tahm Kench purred in your ear that you had reached your destination. Hidden from view was a small clearing next to a waterfall, overlooking the forest below with the river meandering through the idyllic landscape. The sunset cast the world in a soft orange glow, as the sound of the waterfall beside you almost deafened you to the world. Almost missing Tahm's voice when he inclined his head to you and asked: "Now, most delectable summoner of mine. What is it you hunger for?"

He was still holding you, now in both his arms as he leaned you back, hanging over you as if you were in the middle of a dance. A shiver went through you as he spoke, the low vibrations traveling through you as you barely heard him above the sound of the water. You hungered for many things, but right now you were embarrassed to say you hungered for him. It must've shown in your eyes as you looked away, blush once again adorning your cheeks as he chuckled. "You're as subtle as you are tantalizing, dear. If you keep blushing like that I might just gobble you up... for what I hunger for is you, and I'm planning on overindulging tonight." 

Fear struck you, but you felt almost paralyzed when he lowered you down on the soft earth beneath you. "Now, don't you worry your little head you hear, I won't release you from your life yet... not in the literal sense that is. Though you might wish for me to do so later."

What did he mean? What did that mean?? His large form hovered over you, grabbing your thighs and opening your legs as he leaned forward to inhale deeply. "That aroma seduces..." he purred as his tongue lolled out to lick rows upon rows of sharp teeth, and you felt a throb of arousal so deeply you had to stop yourself from groaning. 

"For what do you hunger, summoner?" he once again purred as claws hooked onto your jeans, pulling slightly, fabric dragging down your skin just enough to tease. "Tell me, and your cravings will be satisfied."

His maw was opened in a smile from ear to ear, tongue peeking out just barely as a promise more than anything, and you were able to whisper just above the sounds of nature around you. "You."

"Well, how could I possibly refuse such a tantalizin' request," he replied, tongue already out, oh so eager to have a taste of you, as with a quick drag your lower half was unclothed, shiver betraying your arousal as a cool wind hit your unsurprisingly wet core. He wasted no time giving a long, sloppy lick from your anus to your clit and you gasped at his greed, a low purr escaping him. He drawled out his satisfaction, as his tongue gave another wet lick down your nethers, uncaring about technique or decorum as all he wanted to was savour your essence on his tongue. "You simply taste divine," he said, pushing your legs wider around him as he dove in further, tip of his tongue entering you to get more, as the top of his tongue was firm on your clit. He pushed in further and you groaned as he started lapping at your walls as if he was having a great meal, his hums of satisfaction thrumming through your body as if he was a giant vibrator. Your orgasm came fast and overwhelming, brought on by his greed while his hands gripped at your thighs tightly. A gasp of his name, a cry for him to pause, but he didn't, slurping up your essence as he continued his onslaught. 

"That was barely an appetizer, dear," he drawled, tongue still inside you as drool dripped down on you from his giant maw, soaking your lower half even more than you had managed yourself. "Now I was saving my appetite for you for quite some time, so it's going to take a little more than that to satisfy me, y'see?"

You weren't sure if you did see. As a matter of fact your eyes had closed a long time ago, and your brain hadn't really been functioning all day either. All you knew was the pleasure he was providing you with, the sloppy technique he employed that somehow made you see stars with every wet, greedy lick. Your legs were shivering in his grasp, but he didn't let up, the sound of the river not enough to cover the obscene sounds his tongue made inside of you as he pushed in further still - eager for more. He was truly trying to devour you, and you gasped out as your walls fluttered around him, gushing wetness as you felt yourself rush to another shaky orgasm. It came just as quick as you shivered in his hold, head thrown back as he once again voiced his appreciation at your offering. A moan escaping him between slurps as instead of slowing down he sped up once again. 

"No, wait," you gasped, trying to get away from him in earnest, but your treacherous legs pulled him closer, arms flailing above your head as they tried to find purchase in the grass. You were sure by now you had pulled out all the grass around you, and even unearthed some small shrubbery you got your hands on, but you needed something to hold onto as tears filled your eyes at the overstimulation. "Tahm I can't-"

"I'm sure you can, doll, just a little more," his voice was smooth as always, but a rough edge had appeared, making you cry out as he practically bent you in half, legs around your face as he tongue fucked you in earnest, making sure to lap up any and all of your arousal as he went. "My hunger has not yet been sated."

His hunger was never going to be sated, you thought as tears ran down your face, but your core throbbed in maddening deliciousness. Your mouth was open in constant gasps and whines, begs escaping you though you weren't sure if you were asking him to stop or continue at this point. Your sore pussy spasmed around his long tongue as the slightly rough texture of it rubbed against your clit. And with the way he was bent over you it rubbed your entire stomach as well, soaking the shirt you still wore with his drool as he ate you out like a man starved. "Please," you gasped out between keening gasps, unable to hold in your sounds as you were unsure you had another orgasm in you, not with how intense the other two were. But your body was as greedy as him as your stomach tightened so intensely you thought you were going to turn inside out, more fluids squirting out of you as you gasped and writhed on the grass. "Enough, ahh, enough," you cried and when his tongue retreated you almost started crying in earnest. 

"Such a fragile little thing," he said, grinning. "Barely enough to take the edge off the craving." he leaned back, holding your spend body up to his large, wanting maw, as your lower half recoiled from the feeling of warm breath hitting your abused pussy. "Just one more... just a little dessert, and I'll let you go..." A shuddering groan was his answer as he leaned back a little further, placing you with your legs wide over his impossibly large face, mouth opening to ease your entire lower half into his mouth. "...then, I'll be satisfied."

You were going to die. No, at this point you wished you could escape his long tongue that once again licked his way towards your entrance, but now it felt like your entire lower body was getting devoured by him, and you spasmed as you felt liquid drip down into his almost painfully hot, waiting maw. Words were foreign to you now, as only weak mewling sounds escaped you, shivering and shuddering with every lick. It was almost gentle, the way he moved it, but it could as well have been pain he was inflicting upon you, so intense was the feeling it evoked. Sharp teeth rubbed against your ankles that hung from the corners of his lips, scratching and drawing just the tiniest bit of blood, a taste that almost drove him to madness himself. 

You understood now, why he said you might be wishing for him to release your life at the end. There was nowhere to escape him, and your fingers dug into his skin as you came for the fourth time, a shuddering cry escaping you as you squeezed out the last you had in you. He drank you greedily, deeply, and finally released you with a satisfied chuckle. Gently he held your boneless form to his chest, as he looked down upon you almost lovingly. 

"Now, that meal left me satisfied," he chuckled, "Until next time."

#tahm kench #tahm kench x reader #champion x summoner #x reader #x y/n #league of legends #lol x reader #nsft #monster #terato #smut

[kimbap-r0ll]

Valentine’s Day Angst: Scarlet Red (Chrollo x reader)

2.3K words

Happy Valentine's Day! This is the angst story that ended up being pretty dark. It mentions massacre and death (covers the Kurta massacre for context) so if you don't want to read it, this one might not be for you. The rest of the story is under the cut, I hope you enjoy!

You were with Chrollo for a few months, and it was almost dreamlike. He appeared in your life one day when you were looking for antique accessories and he happened to be doing the same. You two reached for the same ring and that was where your relationship started. He introduced himself and you did as well, then you asked if he was a local to your small town right next to the forest in Lukso province.

“I happen to be visiting that’s all,” he said. “I was hoping I could explore the town a bit better, perhaps you could help me.”

You never expected yourself to meet such a handsome and polite man in your life so you didn’t hesitate to show him around. You took him to your favorite café, a bookstore that you used to go since you were a young child, and the outskirts of the town. It was located in a forest known for its wildflowers but also a strange tribe that lived far into it.

“Apparently they don’t allow any outsiders close by, so I was never allowed to go in,” you explained. “They’re a prosecuted group, exiled from their old home and trying to find a place to live around here.”

Chrollo nodded. “I think they were called the Kurta, were they not?”

“Yes, wow I didn’t think you would know about them. They’re a bit obscure, not speaking the same language as any of us either,” you replied.

The man explained he had a fascination with all kinds of obscure things, especially languages. He was in the process of learning the Kurta language, which he was now able to read. It was wonderful in your opinion, as up until then you were dead sure on not telling him all the truths about you.

A Kurta, if they manage to pass multiple exams, is allowed to live outside of the designated safe area. Outside of the protection of the sun, to put it into the words of the Kurta elder. You happened to be one of them, a survivor in a sense as you couldn’t bare the enticing new world outside of what you knew in those woods. Though it meant you could lose track of your village as they were nomadic and had no means of communication other than through the elder, you decided to leave once and for all to pursue your dream of exploration. You didn’t make it that far, as you found yourself happy in the town right next to the forest, working in a small café while finishing your studies at a local university.

Chrollo likely knew about this, however. Perhaps it was your mannerisms, the way you would avoid eye contact when he was only a few inches away from you. You closed your eyes when you had to calm yourself down, and you seemed to be a nen user, though you were unaware of it. These were all signs that you grew up outside of the norms of a regular town, you likely grew up in an obscure setting like he did. Chrollo was on the lookout for the Kurta, mainly because of the price tag on their scarlet eyes, but also to deliver a holy word to the world and the tribe. Something had occurred between the Meteor and the Kurta, and the only way he felt they could settle the dispute was through the Meteorites (citizens of Meteor City) law: We’ll accept anything you leave here, but don’t ever take anything away from us.

His fascination with the Kurta was interesting, so you ended up filling him in the details of what the tribe was like, how the woods were like, and why you all thought living in a nomadic life was good. He took in all of the information, even taking some notes in a notepad you gave him. He learned the language quickly, soon being able to greet you in Kurta. It felt like you were back home, perhaps the elder would accept him into the tribe if you two ever got...no you were thinking too far.

You were getting ready for Valentine’s Day, a holiday you never found yourself to be specifically a fan of. You didn’t like how so many shops used this as a marketing tactic sure, but you also felt lonely when you saw friends and couples celebrating their bonds together. You remembered those days when you would make flower crowns with your friends in the village, though the concept of Valentine’s Day was not one celebrated in your tribe. But with Chrollo in your life now, it seemed right to celebrate the occasion with him. He was dating you, though he never said those exact words. You two had shared your first kiss together on New Year’s, you two fell asleep watching a movie together, and so on. He even presented to you a bouquet a few weeks ago, flowers specifically from the woods that you rarely visited.

“Chrollo, I wanted to celebrate with you, you know, that we’re together,” you said to him while you two were sitting together on a park bench. He was reading a book on the Kurta at the moment, and he wasn’t wearing his usual outfit. It was one you had never seen before, one that perhaps fit with his mysterious aura: it was a purple coat with an upside down cross. He was one that used to wear fairly modest clothing, choosing for a vest and simple pants or even a t-shirt on some occasions. He always had a head injury, at least that’s what you thought the reason was for him covering his forehead.

Chrollo looked at you, a smile on his lips as he asked “Oh, you want to do something for Valentine’s?” He closed his book, turning his full attention to you. “Did my dearest want something as a gift?”

“Ah, no I’m honestly good with anything,” you fidgeted in your seat, once again avoiding eye contact. You were wearing colored contacts, but he knew that. “I, er, I guess anything red would work, right? It fits with the theme.”

“Anything?”

“Yeah, I’m not that picky you know that!”

Chrollo let out a soft chuckle, wrapping an arm around you as you two sat in silence once again. “I’ll get you something nice, something I’m sure you’ll hold close to your heart,” he said. You felt your heartbeat race a bit; ah he was too kind!

“Look forward to your gift as well, Chrollo!”

He disappeared for a week. It was strange, it was only a few days before Valentine’s, but he had disappeared completely. There was no trace of him, no calls received, nothing. You worried that perhaps he got into trouble, besides you knew he wasn’t one to stay in a place for a long time, you heard he was a world traveler. But you also worried that perhaps he ditched you, maybe he was a complete asshole, and you didn’t expect it. Looking at the nice dinner you had set up for the two of you, you sighed and tried to not think too hard about it. You had worn your favorite outfit, made a meal that you thought would fit his palate (apparently, he could eat anything and everything) and even got him a gift: a book from his favorite author. You felt your nails digging into the palms of your hands, wondering if you should send one more text asking if he’s alright. Then, as if on cue, there was a knock on the door.

“Chrollo!” you opened the door to see your lover holding a large box in his hands. My goodness, he must’ve saved up a lot for what looked like an expensive item. Not wanting him to stay in the cold longer, you led him into the dining room.

“Sorry darling, I was busy with some work,” he said as he took off his coat. It was the same one from before, the strange one with the upside down cross. He looked worn out, and, perhaps you had great senses, something on him smelled like iron.

“No worries, I’m just glad you’re here!” you said, kissing him on the cheek. He didn’t seem like he was out of breath at all, but he seemed happy about something. Perhaps it was that you two were celebrating together, at least you hoped that was why he was happy.

You two were enjoying dinner together when he brought up his background. It was an interesting tale, one that was filled with his hopes and dreams for a better world. He vowed that he was going to take down those who had wronged him in the past, a sort of revenge plot that you didn’t expect from such a calm man.

“Ah, but don’t get yourself in trouble, I wouldn’t want to see you get hurt,” you said, holding your glass of wine a little tighter. He laughed.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be fine as long as I have you,” he took your open hand in his. Chrollo was so comforting at times, it didn’t seem right that he had such a storm brewing in his head about revenge and fighting.

“You see...I’m from Meteor City.”

You looked up at him, wondering where you heard that name. It was a few years ago, the elder said something about a Meteor and someone in the tribe. You remembered something along the lines of “stay away.”

“Oh...what’s it like? I’ve never really heard of it,” you lied, wondering if it was true that Meteorites were terrifying people.

“It’s pretty normal, most people there have big dreams that can’t be achieved alone. We try to work as a collective,” he explained. “It’s like the Kurta, is it not?”

“What do you mean?”

“You all take care of each other, even if it means risking your life you protect your loved ones from harm. You have a hard time accepting those who are outsiders, unlike Meteor City, but in the end, you find yourselves surrounded by people that might not be the same. You let them into your tribe, though it’s easy to see who’s not capable of turning their eyes red.”

“You...you know about the scarlet eyes,” you felt your heartbeat speeding up, it was strange that he knew so much. Didn’t he say he wasn’t familiar with them? And what did he mean by...you? Sure, you told him some information about the Kurta but you never went in-depth about the red eyes.

“It’s getting late, I need to go make sure my friends are alright, we had a rough night. Let me at least open your present, I want to see you open yours as well,” his words snapped you out of your thoughts and you awkwardly handed him your gift.

Chrollo opened it smoothly, his slender fingers wrapping around the ribbon and undoing it. He saw the book cover, gave you a content smile and thanked you. He kissed you on the head, a gesture he hadn’t done before.

“Now, I want to see you open yours.”

With a nervous shake, you took the top of the box off. There wasn’t much in there, but it looked like there was a glass case with two floating objects inside. You were confused, it looked like a haphazard aquarium. Chrollo explained it was done quickly so it might not last very long and to replace the glass with something better if you wanted. Was it a fish? Finally, you took the whole glass object out.

“Chrollo,” you breathed out, your breath shaking. “What...what kind of a twisted joke is this?”

“You said you wanted something red, and I figured it would be something close to you, y/n.”

You let out a cold laugh, feeling tears and a burning rage suddenly fill your heart. Chrollo sat on the opposite end of the table, quietly smiling to himself. You finally looked up, seeing his exposed forehead for the first time. A cross, what an ironic symbol. To you, it felt like you had been tricked by the devil, fitting of his outfit.

“Is...is this...” tears fell from your eyes. You wanted to throw the glass at him, cursing at him for how he used you. “You sick bastard.”

“What do you mean? You’re the one that helped me locate your people, it was wonderful getting to learn about your history as well,” he stood up, gently reaching a hand out to you. You didn’t bother taking it, you wanted to slap it away but had no energy to do anything other than stare at whoever’s eyes were staring back into yours. Was it your mother’s? A friend’s?

Chrollo picked you up, embracing you gently before placing a kiss on your temple.

“It was great knowing you; I had a lot of fun. I don’t know if you feel the same way anymore but understand I will welcome you with open arms if you choose to be with me.”

“Go to hell.”

He was gone after that. You didn’t even see him leave, you only heard the door close as he walked away, thanking you for the book. You sat on the floor, clutching onto whoever it was that was in your hands. You sobbed, words forming in your mouth and then disappearing. You felt like you were responsible for whatever happened to your clan, were they safe? No, from the looks of it, it seemed like he went after not just one Kurta but the entire village.

A few days later, you turned off your tv. The news was repeating the same story about a village in the middle of the woods, one that was massacred. The killers left a message that was too familiar to you: “We’ll accept anything you leave here, but don’t ever take anything away from us.”

#hxh #hunter x hunter #hxh x reader #hxh imagines #dark #angst #chrollo #chrollo x reader #chrollo lucilfer #kurta #valentine's day

[thestarseersystem]

Honestly after watching a video from one of the DID youtubers I like, it really helps me come to terms with my dissociative amnesia and made me realize what it is.

I've always known my memory to be fragmented and confusing, and I've eventually begun to learn about the layers of dissociation. But what I didn't realize is that having fragmented memory *is* dissociative amnesia. Of course, why would I notice the things that I have forgotten? But the things I do remember are disjointed and confusing. That's the memory gaps not being registered to me, and I assume its the same for some of you.

It makes sense, not remembering everything, only remembering when thinking about it more or concentrating a bit, or just forgetting about it, that seems normal when that's your normal life. It's only now that I'm starting to realize that I am forgetting things that I was experiencing before. Like during my therapy sessions, I've forgotten a lot of what happens in them without ever realizing until the next session. That used to not stand out to me, until I was looking for it.

And the memories I do try to push myself to remember are hazy and foggy, and reminiscent of dreams. Making me think they aren't real, even if some of them, I do know I experienced. A lot of them feel foreign and strange, like I made them up. That's the dissociation part. Not feeling like those memories are my experiences.

And another thing, the layers of dissociation is quite strange. I don't have words to describe, necessarily, but I'll try my best to explain.

The further away a memory is, the less likely I'll remember it, and when it's out of the fronting space, it either belongs to me or it doesn't. A lot of memories belong to me, but a lot of them don't. Those layers of dissociation go farther into the innerworld, like outer edges that I cannot reach. My mind is like a cocoon or a cradle that protects me from the trauma that I cannot reach, sometimes centered with me, or with some of my other alters. You'd think that it would be the opposite, that my trauma goes deeper inside, and that's kind of right, but also kind of wrong. It feels as though I am hidden from the memories that can't find me, and that I am trying to venture out further to reach them, but I get pulled back to the center, to focus on life and stay conscious. It's like I'm awake and I am asleep at the same time. That connects with the maladaptive part of the dissociation that I experience. I've always felt this cocoon, this cradle of existence, of a happy one. To be a prison or a dream not meant to be escaped from. And I've been trying a lot of the time, to venture out deeper into myself and understand myself, so I could be able to connect to reality and heal.

And the layers of dissociation aren't like reality either, the life everyone experiences with me is like a dream too. It is like we are all alice in wonderland, and it's mad and crazy, and it's why we deeply connect to that fairytale as well. We just want to wake up. Regardless of how much some system members try to stick to maladaptive coping mechanisms. No matter how some gatekeepers push for the dream-like state of perception for us. I want to desperately heal and learn how to process what happened to me. I want to heal and be free of the world I created to escape, and claim reality as my own.

Even as I say that, I am still dissociating. But it makes sense. Dissociative amnesia and dissociative layers within me keep me surviving and are innate within me, and with any other one of you that have this disorder. And we have to be told that, we have to learn that.

And I think that's why some people in this community stick so deeply to facts and logic, because dissociation feels illogical, wrong and dreamlike. I do this to myself, I hate anything that doesn't feel like reality, and I like feeling grounded. I like the truth, I want to know what's real. And while I'm drawn to the dreamlike quality of my memories, I deeply want to find what's real, because my life feels like it's not.

#post.txt #didosdd #dissociative identity disorder #dissociative amnesia #dissociation #actually did #memory #do reblog and give your thoughts #but remember not to accuse anyone of things not being real or true #its not cool and it can be actively triggering

[tangledbea]

Any theories on why the netherworld looks completely diffrerent in Varian's dream vs the netherworld we see in the finale. On the one hand it would make sense that the dream world and netherworld are two different things but it seemed like the dream was implying that was the space Zhantiri was trapped in until they went along with a completely new concept for the netherworld.

I don't know why you keep calling it "the netherworld." That's not what the Lost Realm is. The Lost Realm is another dimension, and isn't meant to parallel any sort of underworld/afterlife. Just... another place to be. A weird, boring place.

I'm kind of confused by this question. They look different because one was a dream and one was a dimension. Zhan Tiri was manipulating him, just like she was manipulating Cassandra. For Cassandra, she crafted her past/childhood. For Varian, she crafted a weird dream to make it feel more dreamlike and less like manipulation. She wouldn't want him to figure out who she was and ignore her.

#Tangled #Tangled the Series #Zhan Tiri #Varian #TTS #Answered

[bittersweetresilience]

songs from my playlist kitty section adrien and felukagami would listen to (5)

let's get some classical music in here

ADRIEN AGRESTE

"It is not meant to create a powerful effect; it is rather a Romance, calm and melancholy, giving the impression of someone looking gently towards a spot that calls to mind a thousand happy memories. It is a kind of reverie in the moonlight on a beautiful spring evening."

As a pianist, Adrien would definitely have heard of Chopin, a virtuoso of the Romantic period who composed primarily for solo piano. This is one of his two piano concertos, which Chopin performed himself at his final public appearance in Poland before he left for Vienna and Paris. I think Adrien would enjoy playing with an orchestra more than playing alone, and he would love the gentle musicality in this second movement as well as its interplay with piano and bassoon.

It's a classic dreamlike piano piece, which Adrien would listen to while unwinding. Unlike Debussy's later works, this one is not marked by exciting climaxes and color, but maintains a peaceful atmosphere. I imagine Adrien might have heard it first with his mother.

Let Adrien have fun playing piano with other people! He'd love these four hand piano dances so much.

FELIX FATHOM

"An hour ago I finished the score of two movements of a large symphonic composition. If I succeed in carrying it off, if I manage to complete the third and fourth movements, then perhaps I'll be able to call it my Seventh Symphony. Why am I telling you this? So that the radio listeners who are listening to me now will know that life in our city is proceeding normally."

Shostakovich's wartime compositions are some of his richest. This symphony is a requiem for the beseiged city in which he was living during the Second World War. After the Leningrad Philharmonic Orchestra was evacuated, the symphony premiered with surviving members of the Leningrad Radio Orchestra, most suffering from starvation and three of whom died during rehearsals; musicians, civilians, and military united to support the performance, which was broadcast to German lines by loudspeakers to silence their forces. Not only is it an incredibly powerful and moving piece, but it is also rich with history. Félix would listen to the full duration each time.

Félix is undoubtedly a violinist. He likes violin concertos. He likes skilled players. I wanted to fit Vivaldi in here as well but he did not want to admit to being even more basic than he already is.

LUKA COUFFAINE

"He's awake night after night, plays wonderful things, and can't tear himself away from the marvelous music he plays—there are so many ideas that one can't believe it is true, all of them so rich in possibilities for development, so full of life. But if I have been excited by all of this, I have also suffered too."

Luka and Sibelius are an absolutely divine match in my eyes. I chose this concerto specifically because Luka as a violinist means so much to me. Its technical aspects combine with its rhapsodic nature, and it is full of genuine emotion, as Luka would desire from any musical work. Originally composed during a dark and melancholy period of Sibelius's life, it was revised later on and gained its recognition and distinct beauty. Sibelius himself longed to be a successful violinist, but he was known far more for his compositions and in this sense was a failed musician. One might hear his grief and farewell to the instrument in this piece, his only concerto.

The trajectory of this symphony from mourning to triumph reflects the course of Mahler's life as he wrote it. Mostly I just want Luka to be listening to these sorts of masterpieces in order to learn from them. He builds and plays stringed instruments. Can we get some counterpoint or something?

TSURUGI KAGAMI

I have no reasoning for this but I know with all of my heart Kagami and Félix would both listen to Tchaikovsky. This recording specifically sneaks in a Romeo and Juliet overture they might enjoy roleplaying with. Such romantics.

Kagami would really enjoy quartets. They are uncomplicated in the sense of having only four instruments, which can be picked out and focused on one by one; simultaneously, they form a complete and interwoven whole. Listening to these would be comforting to her in their perfection through togetherness and even simplicity. As the father of the string quartet, Haydn would be a reliable choice.

(playlist masterpost)

#miraculous ladybug #luka couffaine #adrien agreste #felix fathom #felix graham de vanily #kagami tsurugi #🌃