#Purest of Pain

[themetalgodsmeltdownposts]

(The Metal Gods Meltdown)

#SoundCloud #music #The Metal Gods Meltdown #Merel Bechtold #The Metal Gods Meltdown #Seb Di Gatto #Purest of Pain

[ywpd-translations]

Ride 749: The last Straight Road*

(NdT.: same pun Kinaka always makes with his name and the word for straight road)

Pag 1

1: I....

3: Imaizumi-san!!

4: Go- good work!!

Good work!!

You were taking a long time for this lap

Pag 2

1: Yes, teh, I got a fl-fl-flat- my bike!!

Yessir!!

2: It's the tire!!

4: Only tires can get a flat

Ah- damn, yes, that's right

Right!!

6: I thought something like this might have happened, so I brought these

Replacement tubes, tire levers, and a pump. Use them

Pag 3

2: This is unusual!! I never thought Imaizumi-san was the attentive type – is it just for us!?

Yeah!! I thought first and second years were just not important to him....

3: You don't want to use the,?

We'll use them, thank you so much!!

4: You saved us, teh....!!

That's true

6: Ah, uhm... but..... Imaizumi-san

Earlier you said that

7: Sugimoto-san won't come”, what did you mean?

Pag 4

1: He retired

Pag 5

1: He's still displayed on the board, but

3: There's still time until midnight

If Sugimoto-kun....

4: Please leave the possibility open in case Sugimoto-kun wants to come back!!

5: Onoda insisted

6: Re... tired.....

Sugi..... moto-san....

Pag 6

1: He used up all his stamina and mental strength in his fight against Danchiku, and he was defeated

2: You didn't notice because you've been on the course the whole time

4: Ah... actually, when it got dark, Sugimoto-san and Danchiku-san passed us various times... teh

Huh!? That? So at that time-!?

5: You have no time to talk about unimportant things

As soon as you're done with the repairs, run, first years

6: Soon

Pag 7

1: Waa, ye-yes, teh, thank you for the tools

Yeah, there's still 40km

2: If we join our strengths....

Don't cooperate

5: Teh!?

7: From now on, you can't allow yourselves to run like friends

8: Huh....

Our “buddies” stickers.....!?

You have to fight

Pag 8

1: And win the last spot to be an Inter High member!!

Pag 9

1: Fa.... ight....

2: Against.... Kinaka-kun

3: Against.... Rokudai

4: 35km left!!

Gooo!! Kinakaa, Rokudaii!!

Do your best...!!

5: I feel like they'll be able to run the 1000km!!

Amazing!

Ah, but there was no distance between them just now?

Pag 10

1: Fight....

2: The spot as a regular in the two-times national champion, Sohoku....

3: I can't take it by just being friendly....!!

4: And also

5: There's Sugimoto-san's wish!!

Pag 11

1: Wa- wait, please, Imaizumi-san

But.... if in this training camp the condition to become the sixth regular was to finish the 1000km first....

2: Then why did Sugimoto-san and Danchiku-san race!?

4: I came here to give you a message from Sugimoto

5: I think, I think it's necessary, you know

Sohoku is a team that connect and support each other

6: Just like during our first year, you, Naruko, and Onoda, connected your wishes and aimed for the goal

7: And last year Kaburagi ran with Aoyagi-san and carried the team until the mountains on the third day

8: So I think we need it

9: Our third year Inter High members

Pag 12

1: Definitely need a “first year”!!

3: Even if he knew he was making his own situation worse, he thought about the best shape for the team would be

4: He accepted it, and fought

Pag 13

1: For the fifth place

3: Among the first years, those two are left, I look forward to see what they do!!

That's too much food

4: Danchiku probably understood it, too

That's why he fought with all his strength

6: Now you two have to run with the weight of those expectations on your back!!

7: Fight, against your opponent and against yourself!! Use all your strength

Pag 14

1: And pull to yourself that last jersey!!

2: Straaa-

Pag 15

1: Straight roaaad!!

2: - traight!!

3: …. ngh

Ugh.....

4: Kinaka-kun.....

5: Don't cry, Rokudai!!

Pag 16

1: What are you doing, oi!! I'll leave you behind like this!! I'll tear you off!!

If you give up, then it's lucky for me!!

2: My goal has always been the Inter High jersey!!

To get back at those senpai who made fun of me!!

3: To show it to the Onii-san who taught me how to ride bikes!!

So, for that....

6: So I'm telling you not to cry!!

Pag 17

1: But, Kinaka-kun....

It's that your “Straitgh road”, wasn't fast at all....!!

4: You knee? It's your knee, right?

Since when? Since a while ago?

5: Since when we were at about 800km

Pag 18

1: It's a race, Rokudai

2: You should have told me, teh

I didn't notice, teh!!

3: I'm such an incapable former manager, teh....

4: Since when I lost to you in the first years' race

6: I've been thinking that I would definitely not lose the next time we race

7: Even though the truth is that I don't really care about that anymore

So, once again...

Pag 19

1: It's a race, Rokudai!!

3: Let's do it, Rokudai!!

I can't, teh

4: Race me, pedal!!

I don't want to, teh....

5: Fight me!!

I won't pedal, teh

Pag 20

1: Because, if I fight you now, Kinaka-kun, I'll end up winning, teh

Pag 22

1: With that kindness of yours, support our senpai during the Inter High

#yowamushi pedal #yowamushi pedal translations #yowapeda #yowapeda manga #yowamushi pedal manga #yowamushi pedal spoilers #ride 749 #the tags arent enough for the essay i want and need to write about this chapter #most painful chapter but also one of the best chapter of the whole manga imho #IVE BEEN CRYING SINCE YESTRDAY WTF WATANABE HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO MY BABIES #YOU NEED TO PAY FOR MY THERAPY NOW #kinaka and roku's relationship is probably the most wholesome in the whole manga i love them so much #and this chap HURT SO BAD OH MY GOD #kinakaaaaa you're so strong for this ;A; the way he didnt want to tell roku about his knee bc he knew that roku would break #the way he even tried to provoke him to push him to race!! and he says he didnt want to lose against him again! but!! #He actually doesnt care about that anymore!!! hes just doing this for rokudai!!! #And rokuuuu!!! baby boy ;A; hes the purest boy ever!!! He didnt want to win like this against kinaka he didnt want to leave him behind ;A; #leave me alone im gonna cry forever ;A; (no actually dont leave me alone keep me company in my suffering plz) #page 21 is forever ingraved in my soul #even tho imaizumi told them not to cooperate in the end they did support each other until the last moment ;A; #(on a lighter not im happy that we finally have a reason for the race btwn sugimoto and danchiku - they both knew the team needed a first #year* so only one of them could be on the team)

[ntaras]

i think a lot of people coddle kuai liang too much. yes he’s good and a tortured man etc. and people see that he has struggled but don’t really see that he still is struggling and has faults. even in mk12 people aren’t really talking about how he did in fact try to kill bi-han- which yes, he would have regretted, but that is still a fault you have to see in him. he’s susceptible to fits of blind rage that will make him do things he’ll regret. his anger was justified (obviously) but he’s also capable of murdering his own brother (which once again, i am sure he would have regretted).

#like criticism of writing aside- that is who he is now. he isn’t an innocent baby who needs to be constantly coddled #he’s a nice guy he’s a great guy etc etc etc but he has these negative traits that are a part of his character #idk if infantilizing would be the right word for what i feel like this fandom does to him #as much as i talk about bihan it’s kuai liang who’s the character who i love most #mostly for sentimental reasons due to being the character i first liked #but i feel like the fandom doesn’t really appreciate him as much as they want to ‘baby’ him #and once again he’s one of the purest characters out there!! but he’s also full of a lot of pain #and in mk12 we actually saw him exert that pain into rage which almost killed bihan #and it’s a negative part of him (the consequences of his blinding rage) that we have to also accept as a part of him #this isn’t directed at anyone this is just a general problem i have with the fandom #i like him a lot and think he has faults we should also appreciate him for and that negative traits in a character don’t make them a bad #character but make them more interesting 👍 #i think his anger is now brushed off as ‘oh yeah it’s justified’ and like yeah but also do you see how he almost killed bihan? how he #violently killed the guards? #how he would have done that to bihan if he was not stopped by a gaurd? #his anger is beyond something that’s just ‘justified’ it’s also something that *can* control him #and yes i’m aware he ended up sparing bihan after their fight but that’s not the point i’m making #kuai liang #talking;

[fictional-worlds-are-exquisite]

my hands were full. but i had a door to open. so I. Used my foot. But the handle is at like the height of my head. all I have to say is Satan has grabbed my ass muscles and stretched them to the furtherest pits of hell and all I know is agony now

#help #my left ass cheek #it’s the purest form of pain known to man #I’m dying #my ass is killing me #this is it #this is how I go #opening a door with my foot #it’s all over for me #I’m done for

[imabiscuitinthousandworlds]

I THINK I MANAGED TO ACCIDENTALLY PRESS THE BACK KEY REPEATEDLY OR SOMETHING BUT LIKE TWO PARAGRAPHS OF WRITING ARE GONE AND IT'S TOO MUCH FOR ME TO CTRL+Z BACK INTO EXISTENCE BUT NOW MY PROGRAM CRASHED SO I DON'T EVEN HAVE THAT ANYMORE IT'S ALL GONE PLEASE JUST KILL ME NOW

#CURRENTLY SCREAMING INTO MY PILLOW #SCREAMING CRYING THROWING UP #I ALWAYS FUCKING SAVE AFTER EVERY SENTENCE BC I DONT HAVE AUTOSAVE AND BY GOD HAVE I LEARNED THROUGH PAIN #BUT THIS?? THIS IS A NEW LEVEL OF CRUELNESS #THIS IS DESPAIR CAST UPON ME IN ITS PUREST FORM #THIS COULD NOT BE THE WORK OF AN EVIL MADMAN FOR THIS IS TOO CRUEL #THIS IS NOT FATE OR KARMA. THIS IS THE UNRELENTING UNCAREDNESS OF THE UNIVERSE #WHEN ONE THINKS ABOUT IT THE UNIVERSE DOES NOT CARE #THE ONLY THING WE CAN KNOW FOR SURE - THE ONLY THING TAT MATTERS IN THE GRAND SCHEME - #IS THAT SOME DAY ALL OF US MUST DIE #SOME DAYALL OF OUR LABOUR AND LAGHTER AND CREATIONS - THEY WILL DIE WITH US #THEY WILL DIE WITH US AND NOBODY WILL REMEMBER #AND IN THE END IT IS ALLFOR NOTHING #IN THE END IT DOESNT MATTER #IN THE END LIFE EXISTS JUST TO BE BACKSPACED OUT OF EXISTENCE AGAIN #a biscuit's rambles

[eudaimoniac]

I remember when I met him it was so clear that he was the only one for me

#i will always love you #i will always find you #i will always miss you #endlessly #no matter what happened & what will happen #you are the love of my life #the light of my life #my absolute purest #i will keep you with me forever #wherever i go whatever i do #i cannot imagine a life where i do not love you #i don’t care how stupid i will look to others but you will always be my weakness and i would take all the pain and all the suffering again #loving you and being loved by you #that’s what showed me how worth everything is #there is just so much i want to say #so so much

[euphorial-docx]

i’m sorry but the urge to make a blood and water sequel is strong…

#it’d be pain in its purest form #and i’m physically holding myself back from outlining it #i’m scared of my own mind #someone tell me to not make this #or at least tell me to finish the first fic first

[compactdiscmp3]

bucktommy is. bucktommy is the gaping visible wound of "i was never taught to belong, i was taught that i would never belong" being sewn up and not flinched at. it's the miracle of someone coming back even if you're at your most awkward and vulnerable because you want so much to belong and you're trying to fit but somewhere deep down knowing that you don't, the clarifying shock of that not even being close to turning someone away and someone actually reaching out for you this time. bucktommy is decades of pulsing pain on both ends evening out and healing and finally feeling letting themselves feel hopeful after too much aching

#buddie is looking at someone before all the pain and destruction at their purest form #buddie is such a deep level of understanding that no amount of beration could diminish the love they need to feel #its not even questioning if you belong because “im not really a guest here” #buddie is seeing the scars and ingrained pain yet holding each others truest unharmed selves by the hand and “i love you to the core” #buddietommy is slayyyyyyy. sorry i cant even re-read this post something awoke in my to write the most unintelligible string of words ever #911 #messages

[rudescape]

hell o

just gonna vent in the tags real quick

#sometimes i miss this place #ive had this account since i was like...13? 14? #im 27 now which is hard to believe #i remember venting on here constantly as a teenager about how i didnt see myself living past like 19/20 #now im just a random adult person floating around in obscurity #ive been debating on permanently leaving the internet for all reasons other than pure and deliberate research #and i honestly just might do that #but i logged on here yesterday again #which makes this like....the second or third time ive logged on within the last couple of years probably #i dont keep an eye on these numbers but i can tell you how easy it is to scroll down to posts i reblogged in 2018 #which says enough about how little i check in on here #anyways...it got me thinking about this site and all the memories i made on it #you may be thinking it isnt that deep and thats being generous considering the strong doubt in me that anyone is even reading this at all #but yeah you'd be right #it isnt deep #all it comes down to is nostalgia in its purest form #and a part of me knows that i wont just suddenly start posting regularly on here again #but in this moment i can only hope to feel a connection with something that used to bring me relief from my real world pain #its time to shut up! its time to shut up!! #goodbye

[benevolentslut]

.

#i was given a chance to share life with the single purest soul in the world and i caused him irreparable pain and ruined everything #im not even worthless at this point im a net negative on the world. everything would be better without me. #im not going to do anything please no one worry about me. but it's a literal fact that if i had never existed. he would be better off rn.

[chuluoyi]

✎ protect

- gojo satoru x reader

the word “protect” now means so much more to him

genre: soft and playful gojo, sugary dump fluff, pregnant!reader

note: anyone craving some soft gojo? :3 based on a suggestion by an anon who needs a soft gojo a while back, thank you!

a part of gojo's love entries

series masterlist | oneshot masterlist

When he was 16, Gojo Satoru thought that protecting other people was a pain, and didn't take it seriously.

Later, when he realized that even non-sorcerers deserve to live their lives in peace, he dedicated himself to becoming stronger so that he would be capable to protect them more. However, even then, he didn't perceive their worth as significant.

But when you entered the picture, that measly, glorified word suddenly became so much more.

Usually people would only care about whether he had succeeded his mission or not. His formidable reputation as the epitome of strength means no one is genuinely interested in his wellbeing—no one after Suguru, to be exact—until you did.

After a whirlwind romance of attraction and banters, Satoru reached the conclusion that he wanted you, the only person left who actually made him feel like a human, to stay happy and safe. He would do it with his own hands, even if it meant reshaping this cruel world to be kinder for you with him as your shield.

And the word “protect” gained an entirely new meaning years later, when he rested his head on your swollen belly—the place where his new cherished treasure was growing.

“When will he come out~?” he asked in a whiny tone and a blissful smile, even though he clearly knew the answer.

You shook your head with playful resignation, unable to conceal your smile. "In three weeks. Now help me get comfortable, you dork."

He helped you turn over and fetched a pillow to place under your aching spine. Then, with a mischievous grin, he lightly poked your belly with two fingers, eliciting a yelp from you.

"Don't poke me! You're poking your child!"

To that, Satoru merely threw his head back and snickered like the dumbass he was. He then tenderly rested his hand on the taut skin of your belly, gently massaging it, smiling with ardent happiness.

"Can't really believe it," he sighed, brimming with the purest sense of contentment. "A mini Gojo, huh... You're really doing a honorable work."

A child of his and yours. He had always wondered how he would be after seeing him firsthand—would he laugh just like he had been doing now, or will it be the first instance that move him to the point of shedding tears? One of the reasons he eagerly anticipated his son's birth was just to discover how he would react.

Seeing the weight of his baby growing within you, making you rounder and fuller, stirred a deep well of warm emotions in him with each passing day though.

"I am," you retorted cheekily, rolling your eyes. "In fact, you should be revering and worshipping me for carrying your spawn."

He merely hummed in a childlike manner, feeling his baby move around under his touch. You were about to roast him again with something funny when he leaned down and planted a kiss on your tummy, whispering to it.

"Please come out already~ Papa wants to meet you!"

Your heart swelled with warmth at that moment. Gojo Satoru was many things, but he wasn't typically known for his softness—he was often seen as this all-perfect being, and so witnessing him acting purely on his human emotions brought you a sense of happiness.

“Who do you think he’ll take after?” you mused.

“Hmmm. Me, obviously. He'll be hot just like me!” he quipped proudly, and you playfully smacked him on the arm.

Satoru caught your hand and kissed it tenderly amidst his grin. "But I want him to have your personality. I'd hate to see him be a show-off."

"So you do realize that you're actually a menace."

He laughed out loud, patting the generous swell of your belly again with a smug look on his face.

"I know, but I'm your menace, and that's all that matters."

And when his adorable son was born less than three weeks later and you passed out due to sheer exhaustion, Satoru vowed by everything in the heavens and the earth that he wouldn't spare anything to protect you and his child from this curse-filled world.

Epilogue - on the night of the birth -

“Satoru—” you panted, grimacing, head jerking back as your womb throbbed and pulsed in order to bring forth your child into the world. “I… feel like I’m going to faint…”

Worry etched his face as you leaned on him. “Hey, hey… Calm down sweetheart, relax and catch up on your breath, okay? Don’t worry, he’ll come out soon.”

Somehow his words rubbed you the wrong way.

“Hahh—this… is because of you! This happened because you shoved your stick into me! You horny bas—aahh!”

“Well, hey! Last I remembered, you begged me to put it into you! And I'm not—pfft—”

“Then what are you?!”

“Hmmm, nothing but a man who got you pregnant, sweetheart~”

“If I bleed out and die, it’s going to be your fault, you evil, wretched sorcerer!”

#𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑠 #gojo satoru x reader #jjk drabbles #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jjk imagines #jjk x you #gojo x reader #jjk fanfic #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo satoru #satoru gojo x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #gojo x you #gojo #gojo fluff #gojo satoru imagines #jjk fluff #gojo satoru fluff #dad!gojo #satoru gojo fluff #jjk gojo satoru #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jutusu kaisen x reader #satoru x reader #satoru gojo x you #satoru gojo #oopsie i can’t hold back in the epilogue asfghjkl

[haeryna]

the purest shade of white ↪ okkotsu yuuta x reader ⸙͎｡˚⋆ 𓋼

summary: yuuta looks almost like an angel, you think to yourself grimly, as you shift on the balls of your feet. you haven't seen your best friend in a couple years now, not since he left for africa. too bad he's attempting to kill the kouhai that you're trying to protect.

tw: manga spoilers! anime watchers, do not read. mild angst but happy ending. starts at the beginning of ch. 139. naoya zenin is here and he is his classic asshole self. reader is in the same grade as yuuta, both in age and in terms of cursed energy. swearing because reader is a bad bitch. mildly suggestive. unironic use of "senpai" and "kouhai." slight descriptions of blood and injury, everyone is subjected to the author's attempts at writing dialogue and fight scenes. not proofread but at this point that shouldn't be a surprise. it is blatantly obvious that the writer also does not know how to end stories

notes: thank you for 100 new friends! :) poll is technically still up but i'm impatient and yuuta was winning by a pretty decent margin so here it is lol. divider by @/saradika-graphics!

"Yuuji!" you yelp, slicing the head off a curse with a clean stroke of your katana. Purple ichor splatters to the ground as you whirl, searching for the familiar head of pink hair. "Stay close to me!"

Behind you, Choso grunts with exertion, sending out another bolt of Piercing Blood. Panting, you weave through the curses, letting their corpses fall behind you. Yuuji, where is Yuuji?

As the last body falls, you can't but let out an exasperated huff at the sheepish grin on Yuuji's face. "Don't scare me like that," you chide. "How am I supposed to protect you if I can't even find you?" Yuuji opens his mouth to protest but you shake your head. "I made a promise," you tell him, pain rippling through your heart dully. Gojo-sensei was long gone, stolen away by one of the people he had loved most in the world. Grimacing, you sheathe your katana, mindful of the blood that stains your palms, as you try to ignore the memory of his words all those months ago.

If anything happens, I need you to protect Itadori Yuuji. I know they're going to pull something on him once I'm not there to back him up.

"Senpai, what should-"

Yuuji immediately tenses as your hand flies to the grip of your katana. "I smell a rat," you mutter, nose wrinkling as you turn to face Naoya Zenin, standing atop a bridge. He bares his teeth at you in semblance of a smile. "How perceptive as always," he mocks.

"Cut the bullshit," you snap, hand still resting on the pommel. "What do you want?"

"Fushiguro Megumi," is his rather bland response, and you shift your feet into the opening steps of Flowing River.

"What do you want with Fushiguro?" Yuuji yells, and the way Naoya's face twists makes you want to vomit.

"I think I'll have him die."

Cursed energy fills your body as you leap. Naoya's resounding cackle burns through your ears as you swing, barely grazing his shoulder. Before you can push forward off your feet, a heavy presence rests on your shoulders, locking you in place. All four of you freeze. Yuuji and Choso look horrified, and Naoya looks as though he's broken out into a cold sweat. But you know this feeling, feel it settle back into your body as if it never left.

Okkotsu Yuuta steps out from the building ledge, dark eyes unreadable. Your body sings. Yuuta, Yuuta, Yuuta! His hair has grown longer, bangs sweeping over his forehead, eyebags a little darker than they used to be. You can feel Rika's presence, swirling around you in a mass of death and decay. You're used to it. You've grown to crave it, even. His eyes meet yours, and for a split second, his facade cracks. Confusion, fear, and...regret?

Yuuta leaps, slamming into concrete and sending shockwaves deep into your bones. "Who's with Itadori?" God, even his voice is different, so different from the boy who said goodbye to you so long ago. You open your mouth to speak, but Choso beats you to it, brows furrowed.

"So you're Yuuji's executioner."

Blood turns to ice in your veins, and you can tell by the pained expression Yuuta has that you aren't hiding your emotions as well as you think you are. Naoya laughs. "I was going to tell you that, but you were being too emotional like the bitch you are."

"Who're you?"

Yuuta's voice is cold, but as Naoya babbles on, you can feel the horror settle thickly into your chest. Choso and Yuuji are talking behind you but it feels like you're underwater, you're sinking, drowning, and Yuuta must have come to a conclusion because all of a sudden he's surging forward-

You move before you can even think, steel clashing against steel. "Yuuji," you say, through gritted teeth. "Run."

A horrible grating noise fills the air as you let cursed energy flow through your body, shoving Yuuta's sword away from yourself. "I won't let you kill him," you hiss, body already shifting into Jagged Bolt. Yuuta's eyes flash as you surge forward, katana in hand.

"How would you describe my cursed technique?" you had asked Gojo, mindlessly swinging your feet. Gojo hums.

"Have you ever heard of Newton's Law's of Motion?"

You had crinkled your nose at that. "No?"

"An object in motion, stays in motion. Except you are the object. And your cursed energy is the motion." You remember how Gojo's lips curved slightly. "In other words, once you start, nobody can stop you."

You're crying, you realize with a start, as you cut a line into Yuuta's chest. Moisture seeps from your eyes as you twist your forearm into a parry, katanas sparking with each strike. Belatedly, you sense that Yuuji, your foolish, stupid, loyal kouhai has stayed, trading strikes with his fists between the precise movements of your blade. Your heart drops as Yuuta reaches for the ring on his finger.

No. No!

He twists it, and Rika appears behind you. Claws sink into your shoulder and you let out a cry of pain as she flips you into the ground.

"Be nice, Rika," Yuuta chides, as you hit the concrete. Blood spurts from your mouth as you choke, fingers clawing at the ground desperately for your katana. A piece of scaffolding is practically crushing your legs; instinctively, you know that if you try to break through it, you'll tear your limbs right off.

As Rika holds Yuuji up, you lunge desperately, uncaring of what you have to sacrifice. Inumaki's arm, the way half of Nobara's face had been practically ripped out of her skull, the remains of Nanami-san, the way that you were the one to find Maki's charred body-

I can't lose anyone else.

You scream as Yuuta pierces Yuuji's chest with his katana, cursed energy building in your legs as you prepare to shoot forward. Yuuta turns, eyes filled with an unidentifiable emotion as he sees you about to tear yourself in half just to reach Yuuji.

With a wave of his hand, Rika dives for you, and everything goes dark.

Yuuta had known you were special from the day he'd first met you. That spring, when Gojo-sensei had dropped him (and Rika) into a class of unsuspecting first years, he remembers that out of the four of them, you had moved so gracefully that he hadn't processed the katana in your hand until you'd pressed it against your throat.

"Gojo-sensei," you'd hissed. "What is this?"

While Maki, Inumaki, and Panda had been subsequently bruised up by Rika, you had dodged every single one of her movements until Rika had been (barely) called back by Yuuta.

"Another Special Grade," Gojo had hummed. "Just like you, hm?"

Special Grade?

What he hadn't realized then, he realized later; you weren't just special to him, but to the entire rest of the Jujutsu World as well. Special Grade Sorcerers were rare, Maki had told him. "You only have it because of Rika," she'd scoffed, "but she deserves it."

You quickly became one of his closest friends. You were fast enough to dodge Rika's ire, even laughing whenever she tried. You'd shown Yuuta kindness that he didn't think he deserved. You broke him out of his shell enough so that when he left for Africa, he felt as though he was standing with his own strength. His first katana had been the sister blade of your own, forged from the same metal by the same hands. The way your eyes had lit up when you saw it was a memory he cherished.

Somberly, Yuuta eyes the chains encasing your wrists and ankles, each decorated with the slips of protective paper that would nullify your cursed energy. Most sorcerers required only one. You required at least twenty.

He knows you, knows the way you always take the strawberry daifuku, leaving him the red bean ones even though he knows you prefer the red bean. He knows that you push yourself hard, harder than he's ever seen anyone work. But most of all, he knows your loyalty, how once your heart finally lets someone in, you'll never let them go.

Did you miss him like he missed you?

The chains are more for your own protection. He needs you to hear him out before you attempt to end his life for a second time. Yuuta knows now that Gojo must have asked you the same thing he'd asked him; to keep Itadori Yuji safe from the whims of the higher ups. Gojo, being the forgetful bastard he was, probably didn't alert you to the fact that he'd gone to Yuuta for help as well. Crouching, Yuuta eyes your body with a sad tilt of his lips. The injuries you'd sustained were immense, and it had taken quite a bit of his own cursed energy to reverse.

Will you forgive him?

You're asleep, breath hitching every so often. Yuuta wonders what you're dreaming of, before pushing the thought away. Tenderly, he cups your face in the palm of his hand, calloused fingers stroking your cheek.

"You need to wake up now," he murmurs, as your eyes flutter open, first in dazed confusion, before sharpening into panic.

"I'll miss you!" you'd cried, as you clung to Yuuta under the shade of the large oak. You were the first person he had told about his departure to Africa, and you took it hard. Yuuta had stood frozen as the first of your tears had dripped down your cheeks. It was the first time he'd seen you cry.

"I'll be back before you know it," he'd murmured, pressing a featherlight kiss to the top of your head. You'd looked up to him, eyes teary.

"Promise?"

"I promise," he'd said, interlocking his pinky with your own. A love like Yuuta's is a dangerous thing, you know, but in this moment you feel nothing but safe.

The first sensation you feel upon awakening is the dull ache in your (miraculously still attached) legs. The second is the warmth on your cheek. Yuuta is standing above you, hand gently resting against your face. Immediately you lunge forward, teeth bared. The rattle of chains stops you, and you swear. Of course he would have taken precautions. Yuuta looks almost hurt as you violently shake off his touch.

"Don't touch me, I swear to god I'm going to rip you apart."

Yuuta says your name sadly, but you're practically trembling with rage.

"He was just a kid, with the kind of power we wield, why the fuck would you listen to the higher ups?"

Yuuta echoes your name a bit more firmly, but you ignore him, tears building in your eyes.

"You're no better than the rest of them are you, you're just-"

"Senpai!"

Your heart stops as Yuuji pokes his head out from around the corner. They must have brought you back to Jujutsu Tech, you think distractedly. Just how long were you out?

"Yuuji!" you cry out, scanning his body for any injuries. He seems to be uninjured, but most importantly, he's alive. Tears fall down your cheeks. "Are you alright?"

Yuuji appears horrified by the sudden outburst as he hastily holds up his hands. "I'm fine, senpai, really, I'm sorry for worrying you. Okkotsu-san is actually on our side, I swear! It was a binding vow, that's why he had to actually kill me, but he did some really cool Reverse Technique shit and I'm all good now!"

Warily, you eye Yuuta, whose expression resembles that of a kicked puppy. "Okkotsu Yuuta," you say, voice hard. "Let me out of these chains right fucking now."

With a wave of his hand, the papers attached to the chains fall to the floor. Yuuta looks dejected as he looks away from you. "I'm so sor-"

Before he can finish you immediate tackle him into a hug, knocking the both of you into the floor as you bury your face into the soft slope of his neck. "You're such an idiot," you sob, unable to hide the rush of emotions going through you. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Tentatively, Yuuta wraps his arms around you, and you melt, pressing yourself closer to his body. "To be honest, I think Gojo-sensei is to blame. I think he forgot to mention to either of us that he asked us to do the exact same thing."

You let out a hiccupping laugh. "Of course he did. That forgetful asshole."

The sigh Yuuta lets out is shaky as he nuzzles the top of your head. "I'm so, so sorry," he tells you earnestly. "I must have scared you, and Rika's mad at me for making me hurt you like that. I think she likes you, even though she pretends not to."

You look up at him, really look at him, and see the look of adoration in his eyes as he stares back down at you. Thankfully Yuuji's escaped long ago, most likely understanding that you two would need privacy. "You came back," you whisper, and Yuuta's resulting smile makes your heart skip a beat.

"I promised you, didn't I?"

Before you can stop yourself, you pull Yuuta down for a searing kiss. He's so soft, and you nip at the plush of his bottom lip teasingly, pulling a whine from his throat. His large hands grip your hips, and in retaliation, you grab a fistful of his hair and tug. The breathy noise he makes goes straight between your thighs. You know he can feel your smile against his lips.

"I missed you," you breathe, pulling away. Yuuta looks dazed, lips kiss swollen, pupils so dilated that you can barely see the soft brown of his eyes.

"I love you," he blurts out, and your resulting laugh is airy as you press another chaste kiss to his lips.

"I've always loved you, Yuuta," you admit. "During Shibuya, I thought I wasn't going to make it. You were the only thing keeping me going."

The look in his eyes is fierce as he tugs you back into him, enveloping you in his arms. "You'll never have to worry about that again. You have my entire life. Where you go, I'll follow, and if I die, not even Death would be able to separate me from your side."

"Those sound a lot like wedding vows, don't you think?"

Yuuta's blush covers his entire face and you grin, pressing one last kiss to his lips. "Come on now. We have kids we need to protect."

As Yuuta leads you to where the others have convened, even under the dark circumstances you're in, the warmth of his hand clutching yours fills you with a giddiness you hadn't experienced in months. The sentiment is quickly dashed as soon as Maki opens her mouth.

"Fucking finally. Inumaki owes me 3,000 yen."

#haerinwrites #jjk x reader #jjk x reader angst #jjk x reader fluff #jjk angst #jjk fluff #yuta x reader #yuuta x reader #yuta okkotsu x reader #yuuta okkotsu x reader #i'm actually maki with the fucking finally #i love friends to lovers !!

[imabiscuitinthousandworlds]

I THINK I MANAGED TO ACCIDENTALLY PRESS THE BACK KEY REPEATEDLY OR SOMETHING BUT LIKE TWO PARAGRAPHS OF WRITING ARE GONE AND IT'S TOO MUCH FOR ME TO CTRL+Z BACK INTO EXISTENCE BUT NOW MY PROGRAM CRASHED SO I DON'T EVEN HAVE THAT ANYMORE IT'S ALL GONE PLEASE JUST KILL ME NOW

#CURRENTLY SCREAMING INTO MY PILLOW #SCREAMING CRYING THROWING UP #I ALWAYS FUCKING SAVE AFTER EVERY SENTENCE BC I DONT HAVE AUTOSAVE AND BY GOD HAVE I LEARNED THROUGH PAIN #BUT THIS?? THIS IS A NEW LEVEL OF CRUELNESS #THIS IS DESPAIR CAST UPON ME IN ITS PUREST FORM #THIS COULD NOT BE THE WORK OF AN EVIL MADMAN FOR THIS IS TOO CRUEL #THIS IS NOT FATE OR KARMA. THIS IS THE UNRELENTING UNCAREDNESS OF THE UNIVERSE #WHEN ONE THINKS ABOUT IT THE UNIVERSE DOES NOT CARE #THE ONLY THING WE CAN KNOW FOR SURE - THE ONLY THING TAT MATTERS IN THE GRAND SCHEME - #IS THAT SOME DAY ALL OF US MUST DIE #SOME DAYALL OF OUR LABOUR AND LAGHTER AND CREATIONS - THEY WILL DIE WITH US #THEY WILL DIE WITH US AND NOBODY WILL REMEMBER #AND IN THE END IT IS ALLFOR NOTHING #IN THE END IT DOESNT MATTER #IN THE END LIFE EXISTS JUST TO BE BACKSPACED OUT OF EXISTENCE AGAIN #a biscuit's rambles

[lidiabob]

🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶gregory alan isakov🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶 amsterdam is so so special to me cus only a couple of songs have ever managed to make me feel this specific emotion - and just overall every single one of his songs

#idek what the feeling is? #like the purest warmest most gut wrenching hope love and longing #all his songs feel like home #they all have feeling? #like you can hear it in his voice it sounds like crawling into bed after a long day #theres a bittersweet familiarity and comfort to it #like visiting your childhood home when you’re older #i love him so much #he’s literally in the same category as hozier #cry like a baby everytime i hear his songs #also so many of them make me think of trc #even more pain #gregory alan isakov

[tomriddleslove]

I’m here.

✩Mattheo Riddle x Reader

Summary: The one where Mattheo is spiralling and he needs a way out. He doesn’t expect to find it right in front of him. Alternatively: He doesn’t realise he is loved, by you.

A/N: Riddles 🤝 Internal Monologues. I’ve postponed a smut to write this because my heart belongs to angst. REQUESTS ARE OPEN 😻

Warning: Mentions of Abuse, Child abuse, Substance Abuse, Unhealthy Family environments, Depression. This is quite a heavy read.

Mattheo liked to think of himself as an independent person. It wasn't of his own volition, of course. He didn't exactly have the most supportive home environment. From the day he turned up to Hogwarts after the summer holidays, with scuff marks on his shoes, ragged clothing, hunger gnawing at his insides like a ravenous beast and a bruise spattering the left side of his face, he learnt that the world would not show mercy on him. No, Mattheo had to do it on his own.

He did indeed feel grateful for his friends, who didn't need to utter a word in their support. It wasn't hums of sympathy or pitying looks. It was them brushing off his back when he fell, it was saving the work for him when he had rough evenings, it was pouring him a coffee when he sat down for breakfast without saying a word. Their friendship was not reflected in their words, no, for words were futile. It was in their actions. And Mattheo would be eternally grateful for them.

But even then, it was he who was surrounded by so many, who felt the most alone.

He couldn't ever speak of his issues, he didn't think he ever could. His friends loved him, but not in the way unconditional love came. It need not be romantic, no, Mattheo was not a fool. He didn't care for that when he could barely get himself together. But his deepest secret was not his family's past, nor was it the hidden bruises under his uniform.

Rather, it was that Mattheo simply, had the most terrible, incredibly human need, for love.

For the sort of love that would let you look at the most broken down, raw parts of a person, and still speak of them with reverence.

It tears at your skin. It digs its claws into your feeble skin, and it pulls, It tugs, and it screams. It bares its teeth, it etches its name into your soul. It feeds on you, it consumes you, it hurts you. It bleeds in front of you.

It bleeds, yet it does not cower under the weight of its own vulnerability, because it knows you love it. You lean down, and you cradle it as though it was the most delicate thing on earth. It shrieks in your arms, it continues clawing at you.

You hold it. You are not afraid.

It bleeds, and it makes you bleed with it.

It’s ok.

You'll clean it. You are not afraid.

It was, in its purest form, an ugly thing. Ugly, yet so undeniably beautiful. His heart could only ache, and clench at the thought of such an unconditional love. The idea that someone could see him for him, see Mattheo for Mattheo and not for his father, or for his friends, or for his loud, raucous persona that he put on, or his unhealthy habits.

But how could someone see Mattheo for himself, when he himself didn't know who he was?

He wondered what the rest of his life held for him, often. Sprawled out on his bed, a near-empty bottle of Odgens’ fire whiskey loosely clutched in his hands. His hands are cold; they never warmed.

He always had this feeling in his throat. A sort of suffocating weight, a pain that restricted him. It made it hard to swallow, and even harder to speak.

People would think he'd be out partying. Maybe getting with a girl. With his friends.

It's not that he didn't do that. He did. But it got to a point where the face of one girl blurred into another, he couldn't tell his mornings from evenings. Floating on a high that would sink into an undistinguishable low, one and the same.

He never slept. Whilst they didn't outwardly question it, his friends would jibe and jeer at him, assuming the bags under his eyes were due to his late-night rendezvous with another girl.

Would they look at him differently if they knew it came from nightmares?

He couldn't sleep, because every time he closes his eyes the depths of his mind torment him with images from his past.

His father’s hand comes down, cruel and unforgiving. The bruises mar his skin, but it became the norm. The purples and greens became akin to home more than anything else he had.

In his dreams, his legs do not reach as far as they do now. His calloused hands are smooth once more, and his eyes are wide and honest.

He is young once more, and it does not bring him ease.

He seeks out his mother, he yearns for comfort. She does not give it to him. He is met with the harsh sound of a slap resounding, and his cheek starts hurting. He's confused, and then-

Oh.

Right.

His eyes close, and they open again. He is now looking in the mirror, and he is back to the way he is now. He is standing there, and he cannot tell why he is. He looks the same, yet somehow unrecognisable. Mattheo knows himself well, but right now he feels as though there is a stranger in front of him. That can't be him, he thinks, but he has the same faded scar on his right eyebrow, and his jaw is clenched in the same way. His nose is slightly crooked from when he tried to mend his broken nose at the age of 8.

He meets his eyes in the mirror, and they stare back at him. There isn't that familiar gleam of exhaustion. There isn’t sadness, yet he isn't relieved to see it. He looks in the mirror, and he sees himself. He sees his father reflected in him.

He is watching, and a child approaches him. He is young, as Mattheo was. He barely manages to walk over without stumbling. He looks up at Mattheo - the one in the mirror. Mattheo looks down, but he does not see the kid next to him. He stares back at Mattheo in the mirror, and his reflection is looking down at the child. His stomach starts to hurt. His insides churn, and the reflection raises a hand. The child looks up at him, the same way Mattheo looked up at his mother. The hand comes down, and the harsh sound of a slap resounds throughout the room. The child cries. Mattheo's cheek hurts.

He wakes.

Gasping, sweat clinging to his forehead. His body is freezing, and his mind is reeling. His heart is pounding frantically, and he throws the blanket off him, rubbing a hand over his face as he groans.

He couldn't sleep, He was terrified of trying to do so. His eyes flicker over to the clock on his wall.

2:00 am.

Every time he shuts his eyes, he sees the child looking up at his reflection in the mirror. He sees his reflection raising its hand. In the silence, he hears the sound of the slap, he hears the cries of the child. It mingles with his own, he cannot not tell whose is whose.

He gets up, slipping his hoodie on. His movements are groggy because even if his mind couldn't sleep, his body still needed it.

Then again, one more night of resorting to drinking himself to sleep and he wouldn't be sure if he would wake again. His feet lead him to your room before his mind registers it. He doesn't know why he's standing outside your door, but you were his friend. Perhaps, a closer friend than the rest of them. He knew you'd be up, and he needed to not be alone right now.

Mattheo was a very independent person most of the time, but now was not one of those times.

That terrible, incredibly human need comes back again.

His hand rests on the doorknob, the cool metal still warmer than his own skin. He hesitates, but he pushes the door open.

Your door was always open for him.

As he expected, you were awake. Stretched out on your bed, propped up on a few cushions as you read a book. Your eyes flicker up as you look over at Mattheo, the confusion on your face very quickly fading as you see the state he's in.

You do not say anything, and he is grateful. You put your book to the side. You do not slide over to the side and offer Mattheo a spot next to you like you always do. You instead, continue looking over at him. Instead, you open your arms. You do not say anything, and you beckon him over.

He does not move immediately. He gazes at you for a second and once again, his feet move, and he gravitates towards you before his mind can even compute what he’s doing. The mattress squeaks slightly under your combined weight, as he comes over. He lowers down onto you, his head resting on your chest as he wraps his arms around your midsection. You cradle him as though he was the most delicate thing on earth. His cold skin meets yours, and its intransigence wavers.

He warms, and it is the most beautiful feeling.

He clings to you, as though trying to merge his existence with yours, afraid you'll slip away.

You hold him.

“I'm here,” You whisper.

It doesn't take long after that.

His head is hidden in your chest. Your fingers card through his brown curls.

You hold him.

He weeps.

You hold him.

You do not let go. He cries, and he cries till his throat is dry, and your shirt is soaked. He cries, and not once does your hold on him waver.

You are not disgusted by him. You do not look at him differently. It is amidst those tears that he comes to the realisation that he did not have to search very far. He is not just seeking comfort; he's holding onto the love and acceptance he's always craved. The raw, unfiltered emotion takes him by surprise, and he lets it wash over him. He did not cower under his own vulnerability any more, no, for his vulnerability is both liberating and overwhelming.

His sobs gradually subside, and your hold only loosens slightly when his body no longer shakes with the weight of his emotions. The feeling in his throat is gone.

He doesn't look up at you, but it's okay. You still look at him the same way. Your lips press a tender kiss against his messy hair lightly. His arms wrap around you tighter. You both remain silent. You don’t need to speak the words, because Mattheo knows.

Everything would be okay, if only for tonight.

#harry potter #slytherin #tom riddle #mattheo riddle #mattheo x you #mattheoxreader #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle x you #slytherin boys fic #slytherin boys #lorenzo berkshire #draco malfoy #theodore nott #blaise zabini #harry potter fic #mattheo riddle angst

[tatterings]

Halstarion headcanon of Halsin's love

Obviously, NSFW under the cut... but my headcanons of Halsin's intimacy style with his vampire love. <3 full disclosure i have not proofread this lol

Warning - minor mention of Astarion's trauma

(EDIT: If you like this content you'll definitely like what will be in future chapters of my current Halstarion fic!)

Halsin is the ultimate soft tender dom. Checking in for Astarion’s consent with a head nod or a raised eyebrow. Any tenseness he feels in Astarion’s body, any time Astarion’s eyes glaze over or stare into the distance (because trauma is not something you heal from after having sex once on top of a grave, it's not magically gone. It takes time and healing so this still happens occasionally), sexual intimacy is paused/stopped. Other intimacy is an option, to give Astarion a safe, soft space. For example, he would whisk Astarion away to a bath and climb in with him, lathering bergamot-scented shampoo into his hair, massaging the vampire’s scalp and neck. Or he would pull a blanket over them both, and pull Astarion to his chest and read aloud from the book they’re finishing together.

There’s absolutely no way Halsin can sit still; the man has trouble shifting into a BEAR with passion. He would buck his hips against Astarion’s teasing. He’d grind on the bed as he opened his lips over the pretty pink tip of Astarion’s throbbing cock and lapped at the sensitive slit at the tip. His hands would be in so many places at once seeking stimulation and movement. Most of the time, he’d have one hand reaching upward, fingers interlaced with Astarion’s fingers. Because, he knew, two squeezes meant slow down. Three meant stop. They’d never had to say it verbally. Halsin just knew.

He’d be absolutely down for letting Astarion take him. He’d encourage it. He wants his heart to experience all of nature’s pleasures, including being top. He’d cede control to Astarion willingly, freely, whenever asked and more. His generosity knows no bounds.

He’d be a filthy talker in bed with his vampire love; but a sweet one. “Can you come for me, Astarion?” he’d say, intentionally edging his partner at first, until: “My heart, let yourself feel bliss; one more time, come for me my dear one.” And “My darling Astarion, you’re sweeter than the ripest blackberries, the purest honey,” as he uses his wide tongue to lick Astarion’s spilled ecstasy from his pale lower belly.

Speaking of talking, he’d be so full of praise for Astarion. Astarion, who had experienced only insult or hollow praises about his body, finally experiences someone speaking to him in earnestness, in love.

He’d kiss Astarion’s bite scar, running his tongue and lips over the pinpricks. Reclaiming a mark of slavery and instead nibbling in the same spot out of love. Removing the stigma, the pain from the bite, to replace Astarion's association with a mouth on his neck with ecstasy, pleasure, and consent.

An aftercare CHAMP and I’m not talking like bdsm stuff, which might or might not be something Astarion is into, but even just general sexual intimacy aftercare. Halsin would still focus on making Astarion feel good about his body for more than just sex. He’d lay beside his vampire and rub the pads of his fingers on Astarion’s back, massaging his lat muscles, sore from pulling his short bow. Braiding his white hair in French braids, just to take them out and braid them again. Always, of course, offering his neck to Astarion after any particularly vigorous lovemaking so his little pale love is in tip-top health.

Also Halsin is just fucking super smart and would protect his smaller lover and make sure Astarion isn’t harmed when Halsin takes him. He’d formulate some sort of lubricant that also has healing potion qualities, so any potential lack of preparedness is a non-issue.

Halsin’s so intuitive, that when he is inside his lover, he would know precisely when he is at just the right spot. He would have 0 complaints about moving only an inch or two at a time, back and forth, to almost unbearably focus on Astarion’s prostate, no matter how agonizingly tempting it would be for himself to bury himself to the root.

#halstarion #astarion x halsin #halsin x astarion #halsin/astarion #astarion/halsin #bg3 smut #astarion smut #halsin smut #bg3 headcanons