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#this is just disturbing on so many levels
seikeout · 1 day
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!SELLER SHOT!
Alhaitham × Fem!Reader
synopsis: He couldn't let someone like you, such an insignificant being like you, challenge him. There was no other way to make you understand his place.
Notes: This is my first post, I thought it was a waste to leave this draft to myself. It's early morning here, so would you say this review was sloppy? English is not my native language, so I apologize for any grammatical errors. This man's return to the banner drove me crazy.
TW: Alhaitham with a big d!ck, female body reader, crying reader? angry sex, cream all over d!ck. Maybe a breedingkink, humiliation kink? I think so.
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You took him seriously.
His falling gray hair could be counted every time he spoke to you. With that mischievous and sarcastic smile that made fun of him.
An exchange has never been smooth and easy between you. Obviously, it was a pleasure to have the scribe in your store, wanting your help with something or looking for an object, and you, of course, took advantage of the situation.
Sometimes he said that such an item did not exist, sometimes he put the value at a horrendous high level and the biggest excuse of all:
"I think you are not worthy of my wares, Scribe." His arms crossed below his chest, giving that smile.
Alhaitham hated you. How could someone of his size and position disturb his peace so easily and quickly, get into his mind.
Alhaitham swore he could feel his blood boil and his veins pulse with anger, but like a man of his rank, he took a deep breath and set off to go somewhere else, behind his objective.
You already loved seeing how the Scribe was almost on his knees just for your things, how Alhaitham would go so far as to beg. He loved it even more when he saw the vein next to his head throbbing with anger.
But you never imagined yourself as you would be now.
His pelvis slammed brutally against your ass, leaving loud noises from your sweat-soaked skin. His hands gripped the corner of the table tightly to try to take out all the frustration of pleasure. The same table moved brutally due to the force that the man behind you used. The floor was already dirty from the mess of the two of you, from your past orgasms, your feet on your toes, trying to get away from him.
Her moans of hatred were replaced by moans of pleasure and contextless murmurs. Eyes rolling into the back of his head every time he pushed all the way in, bringing the pleasure of having his G-spot hit and pressed.
His dick spread you so wide that it was impossible for you not to have every part of your pussy molded by him. It was so big that it took a while for everything to enter, it took many minutes of pushing slowly, filling you completely, his body trembled, sensitive every time his tip touched the entrance to your uterus.
"Who knew you only wanted a good fuck with me, hun?" One of the scribe's hands grabbed his hair, pinning his back to his abdomen. The thump of wet skin made you let out a more needy moan. “You look so much prettier with that stupid bitch face.” He laughed arrogantly, cupping your cheeks and sealing your lips with his. His tongue was brutal in invading, smearing all of your drool all over your faces.
His body hurt from how long they had been at it, how many orgasms had he given you so far and he didn't even have one? His resistance was so much that you envied, it only took two fingers and cumming on his fingers that you already felt exhausted. But he wasn't satisfied, he wanted more from you, he wanted to make you pay for all the times you humiliated him. He would destroy you and then make you his.
"Haitham, archons! P-please!" You didn't even know why you were begging so much, you just felt like you had to ask, that you needed to beg for him. His pussy clenched again, sucking his cock hungrily, spilling more of her juices down his thighs.
Alhaitham knew you were reaching your limit again, your body was shaking even more, legs restless and hands gripped your biceps tightly, your pussy suffocated his dick even more making your movements difficult.
"Are you going to cum again? Is this greedy pussy going to make me wet?" His tone was sweet and low, making you even more desperate for your orgasm. His head shook countless times, his vision became so blurred and dark.
That's when he stopped. His body gave one last spasm as he stopped his movements. His eyes met theirs, trying to understand the reason, widened by the repeated pause.
"W-why w-..."
"Lay down on the table and hold your legs like this." He guided you, always holding your waist so you wouldn't fall to the ground, especially because you couldn't keep your balance alone. "Put your leg here, I want to see you cum looking into my eyes." His tone was serious, giving you more anxiety.
Alhaitham held one leg on his shoulder while wrapping the other around his waist. He had the great vision of having his body covered with a thin layer of sweat, red cheeks and lips, eyes with tears in their corners and labored breathing. His skin was all bitten and marked by hickeys, he would say he did a lot of damage.
With just one push he was inside again, the sensation returning to his body made him throw his head back and arch his body. The moans of pleasure gained tone and spread throughout the store. The creaking of the table returned along with Alhaitham's short, low moans.
"This way go deeper, I feel like I could tear you in half if I push harder." His fingers played with your clit smugly. Alhaitham couldn't be human, the way heand it made you have spikes, it was inhumane.
The feeling of euphoria in his stomach came back with a vengeance, his vision became blurred and his body tingled with excitement. He understood of course, even because he let go of your leg with force, holding your wet cheeks and forcing you to look him in the eyes. Anger and lust dominated him so much, leaving him a wild man.
"You're going to cum looking a me, you hear? I want to see you humiliate yourself for this just like I did. And when it's over, I'm going to make sure you're not the uneducated bitch you are." He said through gritted teeth, his tone was hard and dry.
You agreed, even though your brain was already melting from so much overstimulation and unable to process anything. His mind only focused on how good Alhaitham's dick felt.
His hips increase the rhythm quickly, seeking his orgasm and yours, his hands didn't stop in one place, every time squeezing a part of him and leaving his marks on your body. The Scribe moaned loudly with you now, ignoring the people passing by the store front, following you in harmony.
"I'm going to cum! N-ngh! Haitham! Alhaitham!" His hands gripped your biceps tightly, digging his nails into the exposed skin, drawing blood.
Alhaitham growled low, closing his eyes for a thousandths and opening them again, his hands rested on his waist, pressing her pussy against his pelvis even more. The bulge of his penis in his belly appeared and disappeared due to the speed.
"I'm going to cum inside you and you're going to take every drop without complaining." He moaned against his lips. Just the mention of him filling you with his cum made you reach your peak.
And you came, giving a choked and cut moan, squeezing Alhaitham's shoulders tightly and legs tied to his hips. His pussy milked him hard, forcing him to fill you with his thick, hot cum. His toes twitched feeling the hot liquid dominate his insides.
The scribe's hands kneaded the skin of his waist, taking out the excitement of his orgasm. Breathing heavily and letting out choked growls.
You moaned as you felt even fuller, you could feel him pulsing inside you more and more. With a tidy body. Alhaitham pulled his penis out of you, seeing the white liquid mark your belly. His eyes seemed lost analyzing you.
The man's hands went behind your thighs, lifting you onto his lap. Pressing your tired, limp body against the wall. His face got closer still breathing against your lips.
"I want more" his voice came out gentle, so out of touch with how his tone was "I want you for myself"
His eyes rolled back as he was invaded smugly by him. Praying to the archons for mercy.
Because he had just started with you and didn't intend to stop anytime soon.
*
!translation or posting on other websites is prohibited!
Thanks! Bye!
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Am thinking of DNF-ing The Troop. I read about 30% of it today (like. 182 pages. Not insignificant) and I like the writing but a) don't like most of the boys and I'm one of those people who needs the balance of likeable to dislikeable to be in favor of likeable and b) don't find this particular body horror compelling, I don't hate it but it isn't working for me, and c) my one big thing I hate and find terrifying in a bad bad way is zombies and I am suspecting it's less the zombie part and more the contagion and compulsive consumption part which this has and I can't tell where the line is between "this is fine" and "this was a horrible triggering mistake" when it comes to The Troop, which is not a zombie novel but has the elements that bother me. So I'm about 60% convinced to DNF it but again, I like the writing itself and also it's such a well established horror novel in the circles I run in and I kind of want to know where I stand on it, especially since it is pretty readable even though it's long. So. :/
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phantomrose96 · 4 months
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Extremely generic, typical isekai anime where the main character is a high school boy who's so good at video games in his day-to-day life, but people don't respect gamers :( so he's a loser :( ...until he ends up isekai'd into a fantasy world that RUNS on video game logic.
Except this main character is a speed runner.
World record holding speed runner.
Elf-woman in the introductory episode shares the long, sad history of her realm at odds with the Demon Lord and his reign. She looks up just as she's about to describe the moment the Demon Lord killed her husband, and main character is... gone.
Several many fields away.
Naked as the day god made him because equipping the intro clothes takes 3 seconds between menu opening and character re-rendering.
The Wall of the Unfathomable, which has sealed these villagers within their own walls for generations unknown, sees its first breach in a millennium as Main Character scales it ass-backwards clipping and ragdolling up its scaffolding by abusing the collision detection logic and its impact on speed reversal.
NPCs launch into speeches which bewilder and confuse even them because they should NOT be saying anything about the deep sacred mana that can defeat the Dark Demon Lord but the fucker standing in front of him in tighty-whiteys with a level 99 helmet and the Hero Sceptor (which he should NOT have yet but) is compelling the NPC for reasons they cannot begin to comprehend.
The Demon Lord is alerted by holographic message from his most trusted underling that some disturbance has just rippled through from Elf Realm and that some portal may have just opened from the human world, which warrants some caution as the prophesied hero is said to--cut off by the MC catapulting past all 18 floors of Demon Tower security using the infinite speed jump glitch and one-shotting the Demon Lord with a single rag-doll spastic thrust through his heart which launches the Demon Lord along with MC into a 500mph spiral into the stratosphere... And somewhere, the end credits play.
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headspace-hotel · 6 months
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you know how people say "cats domesticated themselves?" I find this statement irksome because as i've been studying plants and particularly weeds, a theory has slowly been forming in my head about domestication that makes a lot more sense than other theories.
Basically, I think everything domesticated itself. Or rather, domestication involves adaptation and active participation on both sides.
Evidence for this is found in studying weed and crop plants—truth be told, most weeds are or were also crops.
Amaranthus, the genus that gives us the most costly USA agricultural weeds? All edible and healthy, and several members of the genus are domesticated. They were staple crops for Mesoamerican empires.
Kudzu, the vine so aggressive in the USA it turns trees into looming kudzu monoliths? It's been bred and cultivated by humans since the Neolithic in its native range, in China it was one of the main sources of fiber for cloth for MILLENNIA to the point that the Zhou dynasty had a whole government office of kudzu affairs. Kudzu roots are edible and they can be as tall as a human and weighing over 200 pounds, you can make them into flour, make noodles out of the flour, you can process them down into a starch and use it just like potato or tapioca starch and make all sorts of sauces and confections and stuff out of it. In Japan it was used for clothes too, if you see pictures of clothes worn by a samurai that's probably kudzu! It has loads of unresearched phytochemicals that probably have medicinal use, it's good for making paper, a researcher even made a biodegradable alternative to plastic out of it
Yellow Nutsedge is a food crop, Purslane is a food crop, at least some species of morning-glories are food crops, crabgrass is a food crop, Nettles are food AND fiber, Milkweed is food and fiber too, Broadleaf Plantain is food and medicinal, Dandelion is food and medicinal AND great companion plant (they used to sell them in seed catalogues around the 1890's or so!) and have y'all ever seen queen-anne's-lace along the side of the road? THATS CARROTS. That's the wild ancestor of carrots! (ofc don't eat anything you aren't 1000% sure you can identify)
Simply put. A weed is a plant that has co-evolved with humans. And most of them are Like That because they co-evolved with us. And honestly I reckon that many plants were domesticated in the first place because they liked to grow in disturbed environments near human settlements and agricultural fields.
Now thinking about this in terms of animals...when our domestic species were first domesticated, there weren't fences, there wasn't "inside" or any controlled environment to bring animals into, and if you tried to overpower or coerce any of those species, they would 100% just kill you. It makes a lot more sense if the humans were just following herds around, and it gradually developed into protecting those herds from predators and tending to them more intentionally until we were kind of just part of the herds ourselves.
a lot of people are familiar with Biblical stories and metaphors about shepherds...it's clear those guys were basically living with sheep 24/7. They were assimilated to the sheep lifestyle.
this theory kinda suggests that we've lost the ability to domesticate new animal species to some extent because domestication has never really involved removing an animal from its natural environment. Feeding wild animals and trying to socialize them to humans isn't in line with the mutualistic nature of domestication because it's trying to change the animal to our whims, and usually decreases the fitness of the animal rather than increases it. And domestication probably takes a long long time to reach the level where an animal can be a "pet" instead of a more distant form of domestication where the association is not as close.
EXCEPT. Animals that adapt to our environment are prime candidates for domestication. This actually checks out because rats and mice are some of the most recently domesticated animals, iirc. Basically, pest animals are the most likely to be domesticated because they've already started evolving into a relationship with us. Just like weeds.
An interesting side note is how both animals and plants can de-domesticate and become "weeds/pests" again. Like "weedy rice" is becoming a problem in some crops where rice has evolved into a weed. And with animals, there's pigeons who were domesticated by us and now their habitat is cities because they co-evolved with us.
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fans4wga · 11 months
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"The studios thought they could handle a strike. They might end up sparking a revolution"
by Mary McNamara
"If you want to start a revolution, tell your workers you’d rather see them lose their homes than offer them fair wages. Then lecture them about how their “unrealistic” demands are “disruptive” to the industry, not to mention disturbing your revels at Versailles, er, Sun Valley.
Honestly, watching the studios turn one strike into two makes you wonder whether any of their executives have ever seen a movie or watched a television show. Scenes of rich overlords sipping Champagne and acting irritated while the crowd howls for bread rarely end well for the Champagne sippers.
This spring, it sometimes seemed like the Hollywood studios represented by the Alliance of Motion Picture and Television Producers were actively itching for a writers’ strike. Speculations about why, exactly, ran the gamut: Perhaps it would save a little money in the short run and show the Writers Guild of America (perceived as cocky after its recent ability to force agents out of the packaging business) who’s boss.
More obviously, it might secure the least costly compromise on issues like residuals payments and transparency about viewership.
But the 20,000 members of the WGA are not the only people who, having had their lives and livelihoods upended by the streaming model, want fair pay and assurances about the use of artificial intelligence, among other sticking points. The 160,000 members of the Screen Actors Guild-American Federation of Television and Radio Artists share many of the writers’ concerns. And recent unforced errors by studio executives, named and anonymous, have suddenly transformed a fight the studios were spoiling for into a public relations war they cannot win.
Even as SAG-AFTRA representatives were seeing a majority of their demands rejected despite a nearly unanimous strike vote, a Deadline story quoted unnamed executives detailing a strategy to bleed striking writers until they come crawling back.
Days later, when an actors’ strike seemed imminent, Disney Chief Executive Bob Iger took time away from the Sun Valley Conference in Idaho not to offer compromise but to lecture. He told CNBC’s David Faber that the unions’ refusal to help out the studios by taking a lesser deal is “very disturbing to me.”
“There’s a level of expectation that they have that is just not realistic,” Iger said. “And they are adding to the set of the challenges that this business is already facing that is, quite frankly, very disruptive.”
If Iger thought his attempt to exec-splain the situation would make actors think twice about walking out, he was very much mistaken. Instead, he handed SAG-AFTRA President Fran Drescher the perfect opportunity for the kind of speech usually shouted atop the barricades.
“We are the victims here,” she said Thursday, marking the start of the actors’ strike. “We are being victimized by a very greedy entity. I am shocked by the way the people that we have been in business with are treating us. I cannot believe it, quite frankly: How far apart we are on so many things. How they plead poverty, that they’re losing money left and right, when giving hundreds of millions of dollars to their CEOs. It is disgusting. Shame on them. They stand on the wrong side of history at this very moment.”
Cue the cascading strings of “Les Mis,” bolstered by images of the most famous people on the planet walking out in solidarity: the cast of “Oppenheimer” leaving the film’s London premiere; the writers and cast of “The X-Files” reuniting on the picket line.
A few days later, Barry Diller, chairman and senior executive of IAC and Expedia Group and a former Hollywood studio chief, suggested that studio executives and top-earning actors take a 25% pay cut to bring a quick end to the strikes and help prevent “the collapse of the entire industry.”
When Diller is telling executives to take a pay cut to avoid destroying their industry, it is no longer a strike, or even two strikes. It is a last-ditch attempt to prevent le déluge.
Yes, during the 2007-08 writers’ strike, picketers yelled noncomplimentary things at executives as they entered their respective lots. (“What you earnin’, Chernin?” was popular at Fox, where Peter Chernin was chairman and chief executive.) But that was before social media made everything more immediate, incendiary and personal. (Even if they have never seen a movie or TV show, one would think that people heading up media companies would understand how media actually work.)
Even at the most heated moments of the last writers’ strike, executives like Chernin and Iger were seen as people who could be reasoned with — in part because most of the executives were running studios, not conglomerations, but mostly because the pay gap between executives and workers, in Hollywood and across the country, had not yet widened to the reprehensible chasm it has since.
Now, the massive eight- and nine-figure salaries of studio heads alongside photos of pitiably small residual checks are paraded across legacy and social media like historical illustrations of monarchs growing fat as their people starve. Proof that, no matter how loudly the studios claim otherwise, there is plenty of money to go around.
Topping that list is Warner Bros. Discovery Chief Executive Davd Zaslav. Having re-named HBO Max just Max and made cuts to the beloved Turner Classic Movies, among other unpopular moves, Zaslav has become a symbol of the cold-hearted, highly compensated executive that the writers and actors are railing against.
The ferocious criticism of individual executives’ salaries has placed Hollywood’s labor conflict at the center of the conversation about growing wealth disparities in the U.S., which stokes, if not causes, much of this country’s political divisions. It also strengthens the solidarity among the WGA and SAG-AFTRA and with other groups, from hotel workers to UPS employees, in the midst of disputes during what’s been called a “hot labor summer.”
Unfortunately, the heightened antagonism between studio executives and union members also appears to leave little room for the kind of one-on-one negotiation that helped end the 2007-08 writers’ strike. Iger’s provocative statement, and the backlash it provoked, would seem to eliminate him as a potential elder statesman who could work with both sides to help broker a deal.
Absent Diller and his “cut your damn salaries” plan, there are few Hollywood figures with the kind of experience, reputation and relationships to fill the vacuum.
At this point, the only real solution has been offered by actor Mark Ruffalo, who recently suggested that workers seize the means of production by getting back into the indie business, which is difficult to imagine and not much help for those working in television.
It’s the AMPTP that needs to heed Iger’s admonishment. At a time when the entertainment industry is going through so much disruption, two strikes is the last thing anyone needs, especially when the solution is so simple. If the studios don’t want a full-blown revolution on their hands, they’d be smart to give members of the WGA and SAG-AFTRA contracts they can live with."
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mysicklove · 2 months
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Toddlers are known to look at their caregivers to see how they should react when they trip and fall. Even if the stumble of their wobbly legs doesn’t hurt them, in many cases, they will still cry if their guardians fuss over them. Although, if the adult doesn’t give them a time of day usually the little beasts get up and go back to playing with their friends.
This phenomenon is pretty common for the toddler you raise. The small child seemed to master how to react during certain situations depending on who is watching him, you or his wicked older brother.
The three of you go to the park where Yuuji runs around the playground, letting out giggles and squeals when Nobara and Megumi play tag with him You somehow drift off on Sukunas shoulder on a nearby bench, closing your eyes and slumping against your boyfriend, content with the fact that he has his eye on the reckless child.
As to be aspected, Yuuji, after being warned very harshly by his “doting” brother to go slow when going down the steps of the playground, ignores the caution and sprints down the stairs only to miss a step and fall straight to the bark. It wasn’t a hard fall — his legs collapsed beneath him, and he landed on his knees with a plop. No harm, no injuries, mostly just shock of him falling a couple feet into the bark.
The first thing he does is look toward you, unconsciously questioning if he is about to cry out from the pain so that you can pick him up and coddle him. But he can’t catch your sleeping gaze and instead finds himself face-to-face with Sukuna.
His brother only raises an eyebrow at him, shaking his head as if to say “i dare you to cry right now”. The two of them make eye contact for longer than necessary, silent communication, and Yuuji sniffles, gulps, and slowly gets up before going back to playing.
The elder Itadori puts his hand in front of your eyes, blocking out the sun from disturbing your sleep and continues to watch his younger brother walk much more carefully up and down the playground. It was good to not coddle the boy; Sukuna didn’t want Yuuji to grow up spoiled; he was to be a man, strong just like him.
But of course, Sukuna happened to be raising him with you, a person with the biggest soft spot for the child. And so when you wake up from your nap, and Sukuna calls the boy over to leave, you notice the tiny piece of bark sticking out of the boy's leg. It was surface level — Yuuji didn’t even notice it, but still, the image looked much more gruesome than it was really.
You gasp and begin to fuss over his “injured” leg, asking the boy if he tripped and fell if he was hurt at all if he was okay. And suddenly, to Yuuji, it seemed that maybe that fall did hurt a little too bad. Maybe he wasn't okay like he thought.
Tears begin to well up in his eyes.
“Don’t you give me that shit. You’re fine. You tripped like five minutes ago, and I know it didn’t hurt.”
Yuuji shakes his head, ignoring his brother and rubbing his eyes while he looks up at you. “O-Owie…” he whines, rubbing at his knee.
“Poor thing, did you hurt yourself? I’m sorry baby, I wasn’t watching.” He reaches his hands up to you, and you scoop him up while he begins to cry into your neck.
It was a fake cry, obviously enough. It makes the elder Itadoris mouth hang open. “You little liar!”
“Don’t be mean, Sukuna.” You say, teasing him because you realized quickly enough that the boys “cries” didn’t produce any liquid from his eyes. You didn’t mind spoiling the boy either way.
Sukuna, realizing you also understood, lets out a dramatic groan, shaking his head before exclaiming, “Why am I surrounded by weaklings?!”
You just laugh at him, thinking about to a few years earlier during highschool. Sukuna was the one who would dramatize his pain whenever he got in a fight. You would listen to his whines (after he profusely exclaimed that he won by a longshot) over a busted lip and a black eye while you would fuss over him, just as you are doing to Yuuji.
He got into a lot of fights during highschool because Sukuna could never get enough of you fretting over him. He liked when you played nurse and coddled him, way too similar to the way you cooed at Yuuji.
The two of them, although Sukuna would never admit it, are way too similar. Both are strong and independent boys who happen to turn into whiny, attention-seeking puppies when you are around.
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starstrike · 4 months
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Mithrun's desire as an SA analogue
TW discussion of SA and detailed breakdown of aesthetics evoking SA. The way I discuss this is vivid in a way that may be triggering, though there is no discussion of actual sexual assault. Just survivor's responses to it.
People relate to Mithrun and see his condition as an analogue for a few different things, like brain injury or depression. And I think all of them are there. But I also see Mithrun's story as an SA analogue, and Ryoko Kui intentionally evokes those aesthetics. I think it's a part of Mithrun's character that a lot of people miss, but I very much consider it text. This is partially inspired by @heird99's post on what makes this scene so disturbing; so check out their post, too :)
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So to start off with, the demon invades Mithrun's bed, specifically. There's even a canopy around it, which specifically evokes this idea of personal intrusion; the barrier is being pulled apart without consent or warning. The way the hand reaches towards Mithrun's body from outside of the panel division makes it almost look like the goat stroking over his body. It's an especially creepy visual detail; similarly, the goat's right hand parts into the side of the panel as well. It's literally like it's tearing the page apart; but gently. So gently.
Mithrun is in bed. It is his bed that the demon is intruding on. He's in a position of intimacy. The woman behind him is a facsimile of his "beloved" that he left behind; the woman who, in reality, chose Mithrun's brother. He is in bed with his fantasy lover, who is leaning over him. While this scene isn't explicitly sexual, it is intimate. And it is being invaded. The goat lifts Mithrun gently, who is confused, but not yet struggling.
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The erotics of consumption and violence in Ryoko Kui's work(remember that the word 'erotic' can have many different meanings, please) are a... notable part of some of her illustrations. I would say she blurs the lines between all forms of desire: personal, sexual, gustatory and carnal, in her illustrations in order to emphasize the pure desire she wants to work with and evoke to serve her themes. Kui deploys sexual imagery in a lot of places in Dungeon Meshi, and this is one of them.
In this case, horrifically. The goat's assault begins with drooling, licking, and nuzzling. The goat could be enjoying and "playing with" its food. But it can also be interpreted as it "preparing" Mithrun with its tongue as it begins to literally breach Mithrun's body. The goat also invades directly through his clothing; that adds another level of disturbing to me. There's nothing Mithrun can do in this moment of violation. Mithrun is fighting, but he is fighting weakly, trying to grip on and push away when he has no ability or option to. All he can do is beg the goat to stop. And it doesn't care. This all evokes sexual assault.
The sixth panel demonstrates a somewhat sexual position, with Mithrun's thighs spread around the goat's hunched over body. In the next, the goat pulls and holds apart Mithrun's thighs as he nuzzles into him. The way the clothing bunches up looks a bit as if it has been pushed up. It has pinned Mithrun down onto the bed, into Mithrun's soft furs and pillows. It takes a place made to be supernaturally warm and comfortable, and violates it. It's utterly and intimately horrifying. To me, this sequence of positions directly evokes a rape scene. I think Kui did this very explicitly. These references to sexual invasion are part of what makes this scene so disturbing; albeit, to many viewers, subconsciously.
This is also the moment the goat takes Mithrun's eye. Other than this, the goat seems exceptionally strong, but also... gentle. It holds Mithrun's body tightly, but moves it around slowly. It doesn't need to hurt Mithrun physically. But in that moment, it takes Mithrun's eye. Blood seeps from a wound while an orifice that should not be pierced is penetrated. This moment, the ooze of blood in one place specifically, also evokes rape. That single bit of physical gore is a very powerful bit of imagery to me.
Finally; it is Mithrun's desire that is eaten. After his assault, Mithrun can find no pleasure in things that he once did. He is fully disassociated from his emotions. This is a common response to trauma, especially in the case of SA. It's not uncommon for people to never, or take a long time to, enjoy sex in the same way again; or at all. They might feel like their rapist has robbed them of a desire and pleasure they once had. I think this makes Mithrun's lack of desire a partial analogue for the trauma of sexual assault.
Mithrun's desire for revenge was, supposedly, all that remained. Anger at his assaulter, anger at every being that was like it; though, perhaps not anger. Devotion, in a way. To his cause. I don't know. But the immediate desire to seek revenge is another response to SA. But on to Mithrun's true feelings on the matter.
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This is... So incredibly tragic. Mithrun feels used up. Like his best parts have been taken away. Like he's being... tossed aside. This certainly parallels the way assault victims can feel after being left by an abuser. Or the way assault victims feel they might be "ruined" forever for other partners. These are common sentiments for survivors to carry, and need to overcome. In the text, it's almost like Mithrun feels the only being who can desire him is a demon who might "finish devouring" him. That that's his only use. It's worth noting that Mithrun trusted the demon. Mithrun's world was built by the demon, and Mithrun, in that way, was cared for by the demon. I think this reinforces Mithrun's place as a victim.
There's also something to be said about Mithrun as a victim of his own possessive romantic and sexual desire. The mirror shows him his beloved just dining with his brother, and it infuriates him. He doesn't know if the vision is real, nor if she has really chosen his brother as a romantic partner. The goat then creates a whole fantasy world where she loves him. As Mithrun's dungeon deteriorates, she is the only person that continues to exist. Mithrun continues to have control over her. And that is the strongest desire the demon is eating, isn't it? There's something interesting there, but I don't know what to say about it.
In conclusion, I think Mithrun's story is an explicit analogue for sexual assault-- though, certainly, among other things! The way the scene plays out and is composed explicitly references sexual violation and invasion of the body. His condition mirrors common trauma responses to sexual violence. And, at the end, he finally realizes he can recover.
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Let's end on a happy Mithrun, after taking the first step on his journey to recovery :) You aren't vegetable scraps Mithrun. But even if you were-- every single thing in this world has value. Even vegetable scraps.
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wannaremember · 2 years
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Horrified but not even surprised.
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whereserpentswalk · 6 months
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Activist burnout isn't a moral failing of a community, it's not people being selfish. It's a natural result of how human minds work, and you can't expect communities to out-moral human psychology.
When people are exposed to the same upsetting thing over and over again, either it fucks with their mental health and makes them more depressed and anxious, or alternatively it makes them apathetic and desensitized. Neither of those things are good for a movement, and those are the ways humans are going to react to constant upsetting messages. You cannot avoid this by telling people to just be better people, you cannot use higher reasoning to make an entire community's emotions work in a fundamentally different way to how human emotions normal work.
Every successful movement account for the fact that people can't be at 100% all the time. Movements that ask for a level of extreme and undying anger, burn bright and die fast, it's a useful way of organizing a very immediate response, but cannot be done for something larger scale. If you give people, the ultimatum of either being at 100% or 0% all the time, they will choose 0% because the alternative isn't possible for most people.
If you're constantly showing the same disturbing images over and over again, they will lose their effectiveness quickly. If I see a post detailing the horrors of the current genocide, I'm probably just going to scroll past it, because it's all things I already know, and I've seen it so many times there's no emotional reaction, and this is how a lot of people are with posts like this, because you can't ask people to have the same emotional reaction to the same information hundreds of times over.
You can't stop activist burnout by being a better person because burnout isn't a choice, it's a psychological response. If your activism doesn't account for the material reality of the community (in this case being humans with human minds), then that's on you for organizing badly.
Also, if you need to hear this: you are not a bad person for experiencing compassion fatigue, it's literally part of being a person. Don't hurt yourself.
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kquil · 3 months
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POLY MARAUDERS | HEROES IN TATTOOS PRT.7
07 : APOLOGIES & COMFORT
CHPT. SUM. : sirius and remus are both very stubborn and need you to help them make amends, thankfully james is there
REQUEST. : could i request a hurt/comfort blurb with poly!marauders in the heroes in tattoos series where r is having really bad cramps and they comfort her- maybe when they're busy with clients and she doesn't want to disturb them but they notice? - requested by an anon (i had to make some tweaks, i hope you don't mind, my darling)
TAGS. : modern au, muggle au, tattoo artist!sirius black ; tattoo artist!james potter ; piercer!remus lupin ; hurt/comfort ; fluff ; mvp james ; james becomes a menace though so is he really the mvp? ; wolfstar fluff ; making up ; reader is also an mvp ; accidents happen ; period things~ ; remus is on the brink ; somebody save this man! ; no! somebody save reader from this man! ; assumes that reader does not take medication to regulate her periods ; assumes that reader wears sanitary pads for her periods
LENGTH : 4.3k
← PREV. : 06 | SELFISH DESIRES | SERIES M.LIST
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“Sirius…” Remus sighs as he sits across from you and the man in question. 
“If you have a problem, I hope you know that I don’t care,” you feel the tattooist smirk against your temple as he presses another searing kiss into your skin. The tension from the room hasn’t fully dissipated yet, however, most of the fiction was swept aside leaving the air clear enough for a more civil conversation. 
With Sirius’ insistence, you were left no choice but to sit in his lap as Remus sits across from you. This left James to sit all on his lonesome, occupying the grandfather chair to your left as a warm smile reveals his asymmetrical dimple, directed solely at you. 
Remus groans in frustration and stands to his full height in order to pull his sleeveless sweater off. Sirius peppers light kisses along the column of your neck but it isn’t quite enough to distract you from the image of Remus undoing the top buttons of his button-up shirt nor the way he rolls up the sleeves to his elbows - a weak attempt at trying to cool down from the heat of the previous encounter. 
You’re tempted to look down once again but are too embarrassed to do so; the images that pervade your mind are too inappropriate and they taint the gentle and kind image you have of Remus… Although, maybe that isn’t too bad. A gentle giant masking an indelicate second face was quite attractive in your eyes. Maybe he’ll finally suit the rouge-ish image that comes to mind when you take in his many tattoos, which were often suppressed by his soft, dark academia-inspired fashion. 
Massaging away some of the tension in his taut wrists, his large and veiny hands on full display, Remus sits back down with a frown, “This is a fucking mess—”
“—you’re a fucking mess,” Sirius shoots back, a mischievous hint in his tone as the heat in your cheeks continue to increase until you’re positive you have steam steadily rising out of your ears. 
“This is serious, Sirius,” Remus calls his name almost mockingly and the icy stare Sirius sends him in return is so icy you feel the chill run down your spine without having to look. 
“Oh, I am serious, don’t you know who I am?” before the tension could rise to dangerous levels again, you launch yourself off of Sirius’ lap, willing the butterflies from your stomach away and suppressing all imagery of the affection Sirius was just drowning you. It was his attempt at distracting you from the tense situation but you’re fed up of it now. It also breaks your heart seeing them like this when you know their true affections for one another.  
“That’s enough!” you stand as strong as the finality ringing in your statement, “you two need to make up!” Remus and Sirius face the point of your accusing finger with disgruntled expressions, “I thought you two loved each other,” your disappointed tone makes their shoulders sag in shame and their eyes avoid one another’s. 
“Dove, please—”
“—Listen…” the careful intonation in your voice doesn’t go unnoticed and wills them to hear you out with care, lips sealed shut, “you were both right — you both had good reason to act the way you did and I can’t blame either of you for wanting to steer things into a certain direction but I’m also to blame for this, okay? I was horrible at communicating my true emotions and that led to a lot of unnecessary heartache on both sides,” with a deep breath, you establish your resolve, “can’t we all just make up and move forward together?” everyone in the room knows that when you said ‘we’, what you really meant was just Remus and Sirius. 
James has been an absolute angel throughout all of this, collateral damage to their bickering and unloving behaviour towards each other; stuck between a rock and a hard place. You only have sympathy for him being caught up in the middle of it all.  
“Dove, it’s not—”
You swiftly interrupt, “I love all of you,” your confession makes them all stutter and flush pink in the cheeks. It’s an image that makes you smile warmly just before insecurity creeps over and your smile turns shy, “don’t… don’t you love me too?…” it was now clear in their actions that they reciprocated your romantic affections and so you weren’t wrong to assume that they wanted you to take part in their relationship…right?
The drawn out silence that followed was too much for you to bear. Even after taking some of the blame off their shoulders and confessing your love, they were still too stubborn to admit their wrongs and make up. Huffing, you make your disappointment and frustrations known with a deep frown, thoroughly concealing your heartache from their silence .
“We just need—” Sirius finally begins, stubborn as ever, only to be glared at harshly by both, Remus and James. This was not the right time for excuses. You had just worded your true feelings for them and they needed to reciprocate in kind. But those words were hard to come by, the timing for a confession also wasn’t ideal for the moment. Then again, when would it ever be. They’ve all just proven how incompetent they were at emotions despite being in such a loving relationship, and yet, you were still willing to accept and be with them romantically. The words they have for you reached beyond that of just love; they were also grateful, astonished and embarrassed for their incompetence. 
“I love you too, angel, so so much,” James finally speaks up, eyes bright and his smile warm with his adoration of you. He ignores the high tension in the room, eyes fixed solely on you as he glowed like the summer sun but he doesn’t reach out for you in any way, he simply sits and admires. Admires how beautiful you look, admires how strong you are, admires how loving and sweet you remain despite all the trouble and anguish they’ve put you through.  
You feel the world disappear around you and narrow your focus onto the only person you were grateful for in the room at that moment. Year heart pounds with warmth and devotion and all you want to do is be close to him. Helping yourself into James’ lap, you smile up at the bewildered look on this handsome face, “Oh James, you’re my only saving grace,”
James smiles at your words as his arms wrap around your waist, securing you in place, “yeah?” his voice is a faint whisper and airy with his adoration for you. 
“Yeah,” reaching up, your arms wrap around his neck and pull him close so you can press your face under his chin. Behind you, you feel the baffled attention of Sirius and Remus, “how about I feed you some lunch again? Like we always used to do?”
Without waiting for an answer, you lean over to swipe up one of your lunch containers and proceed to feed him, completely ignoring the grumbling and whining emitting from Sirius and Remus. 
“I like your thinking, angel,” James giggles adorably and happily accepts your affections as the two of you silently agree to ignore the other two until they make up. In the mean time, you’ll enjoy each other’s company in your own little bubble of love. 
“How does it taste?” you ask sweetly, blatantly ignoring Remus and Sirius, sitting side-ways on James’ lap but keeping your full attention on him. 
“Delicious! More than delicious!” James exaggerates and basks in the bell-like giggles he draws from you, he doesn’t want the sound to ever stop, “You’re always such a great cook, angel!”
“I made it all with love, just for you, Jamie~”
He hums low and appreciative, “I’m so fucking lucky, aren’t I?” 
As you continue to feed him, James takes the opportunity to look over your shoulder and smirk at the miserable faces of his two lovers. They know they deserved this unfair treatment. They also know that, to remedy it, all they have to do is abandon their pride and apologise, which is always worth it when your love is on the line — it should be easy for them. All things considered, this was just light punishment.
Faced with only one solution, Remus and Sirius turn to each other. Sirius still grumbles under his breath as Remus sighs. The brunette accepts that it was entirely his fault for pushing Sirius to suppress his natural way of loving just for his own personal fear that things would turn out horribly, otherwise. And judging from the way Sirius avoids his eyes and continues to whine, Remus knows it’s up to him to make amends. 
‘But it’s not so bad’, Remus smiles to himself; seeing one of his beloved partners grumpy and stubborn was oddly charming. And now that most of the conflict has dissolved, Remus had no other reason to hold back an apology other than for his own personal pride. 
Making his way over, Remus kneels down beside his grumbling lover and whispers his name affectionately, “Sirius,” Remus waits, patient and unhurried, until his beloved in question finally looks at him. As soon as they meet eyes, Remus is left thinking the same devoted thought he’s always had when drowning in his boyfriend’s diamond-grey eyes, ‘how did I get so lucky?’ which is then quickly followed by a guilty, ‘why did I ever let it get this far?’
“Remus,” 
“I’m sorry,” the piercer doesn’t wait for a response and, almost desperately, leans up to capture Sirius’ lips. The kiss is filled with emotions, a mix of sincerity, love and forgiveness. The sentiments were so keen they almost smother the murmured, unspoken words on Sirius’ tongue, “what was that, love?” Remus asks against his lover’s lips, unable to pull away fully. He missed this…
“I’m sorry too…”
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It was a unanimous decision to have you spend the night at the boys’ shared flat. They’ve been kept away from you for too long and tonight they wanted to make up for lost time. High on emotions and desperately missing their presence in your life too, you agree as long as you dropped by your place first for a change of clothes. But not before having Remus and Sirius apologise to James for their neglect of him. 
“You know, we really are so happy to have you in our lives, dollface,” Sirius utters, leaving feathery kisses on your lips as he pushes the door to their flat open whilst carrying your duffle bag for you. He was kind enough to take you to and from your flat on his motorcycle just for the quick collection of your night time essentials. 
“I’m happy you’re in my life too, Siri,” the situation has finally dawned on you but you still can’t believe the events that have lead you to this very moment. 
“Stop hogging her, Padfoot!” James whines, sweeping you off your feet and hurrying to the living room with you in his arms. Once there, he sits you on his lap triumphantly, “Aha! You’re finally mine!” he cheers and attacks your neck with a flourish of kisses, tickling you and infecting the air with your melodic giggles. 
“Now you’re hogging her Prongs, stop being a hypocrite!” Sirius pants lightly after rushing to the scene from the hallway, a grin plastered on his lips despite his accusing words. 
From the kitchen, Remus smiles to himself at the sounds of merriment in the air and continues to cook dinner. 
This is how it should be…
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Remus wanted to sort the conflict with Sirius out more, so he insisted that you spend the night in James’ bed which you happily agree shyly, James grinning widely at your side. All three of you agree as Sirius whines and makes adorable grabbing motions at you but it’s no use as Remus keeps the tattooist pressed tightly against his side, dragging him off and trapping him in his room for the night. The sight made you giggle but it was a brief reprieve from the anxious nerves that soon had you avoiding James’ eyes. 
“You’re so cute,” James whispers affectionately at your shy behaviour, resisting the urge to kiss you as he leads you to his room and gestures to his en suite, “you can change in there, beautiful, I can change out here and brush my teeth at the kitchen sink instead,” 
With a small smile, you move past him with your duffle, eager to get ready for bed but squeal in surprise when you feel a teasing pinch at your ass. An explosion of heat blooms across your cheeks when you glance over your shoulder and observe James’ sly wink and devious smirk directed at you. 
“James—!”
“Angel with a cutest ass, aren’t I a lucky bastard?” he chuckles and presses a devoted, almost possessive, kiss onto your lips, “I never did say thank you for making those two apologise to me,” he purrs and nips at your bottom lip, “you make me feel seen…god, I love you so much,” you squeak into the fierce kiss that follows, almost losing yourself in the embrace but pry yourself away with a squeal when his hands travel too low and squeeze greedily at your ass. 
You rush into the bathroom with butterflies in your stomach as James licks his lips and laughs merrily. He’s come to love teasing you and you didn’t know whether to argue or welcome it with open arms. Shaking the thoughts out of your head, you move on to change into your pyjamas - an oversized shirt and shorts - before proceeding with your night time skincare routine. For a moment, you contemplated taking a shower but rule against it, not wanting to prolong your night time routine. No more than fifteen minutes later, you were out of the en suite bathroom feeling refreshed and ready for bed but giggle at the sight of James already tucked under the covers. He looks so cosy and innocent, it almost makes you forget about his devious behaviour earlier on. 
“All ready?” James asks with his usual boyish grin and sits up, allowing the covers to drop from his chest, at which point you quickly realise that James is a liar. He didn’t need to change into anything! All he did was take off his shirt and he was all set for bed! “I changed into comfier pyjama pants, though,” he argues lightly as you slip into the right side of the bed. 
“That’s just half changing!” your retort has him laughing aloud, your flustered state beyond amusing and incredibly adorable in his eyes.
“Am I making you shy, princess?~”
“…No,”  
“Oh yes I am~”
“Go to sleep, James,”
“Not without a goodnight kiss from my angel,” he leans over you with his naked chest on full display and you stutter in embarrassment, “don’t be shy, come and give me a fat smooch~” he puckers his lips above you and awaits your compliance with closed eyes. 
“James—”
“I’m a very patient man, darling, I can do this all night long,”
“No you’re not,”
“Yes I am,”
“You’re not,”
“I am,”
“Not!”
He finally peaks an eye open. Then slowly opens both eyes as he un-puckers his lips to smirk down at you, caged in between his muscular arms as he props himself up with his elbows, “You just like staring at my beautifully muscular chest don’t you?” you watch as his ego inflates to dangerous levels right in front of you, “My tattoos turn you on too, angel?~”
“Oh for goodness sake!” you finally relent and lean upwards, your smile matching his own when you finally capture his lips in his much desired, goodnight kiss. With one arm holding himself up, James uses his spare hand to hold your face in place, prolonging the kiss. You have no choice but to accept his needy demands as your hand searches his bedside table for his lamp switch. 
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Morning comes with you groaning in discomfort as a syrupy wetness coats your inner thighs and painful pangs make you want to curl up into a ball. Your bleary morning fog makes the situation difficult to decipher but the realisation soon comes crashing down like a landslide and you lift the covers with a scream, the scent of iron becoming more potent. Beside you, James jumps awake, fully alert as his worried, hazel eyes scan you, trying to discern what may be the problem. 
“What’s wrong, angel?” he asks, voice deep and groggy with sleep but dripping in concern.
“James, I’m so sorry,” you sob into your hands  and curl up into yourself, hiding your face away from him. 
“What do you mean?” he reaches forward, inching closer to you in the process and quickly realising what’s wrong when he feels an unusual wetness seep through his thin pyjama pants, “oh angel, don’t be upset, it’s okay,” he coos, gently prying your hands away from your face so he can kiss your forehead tenderly, “it’s normal. Are you okay?” he asks softly, looking over you without an ounce of judgement or anger on his face, only concern and soft, kind, heart-fluttering love in his eyes. 
“Th-the blood—”
“I don’t care about the blood,” he insists gently, “I just want to make sure that you’re okay,” you remain silent from the embarrassment but he’s understanding, “do you want me to get you some painkillers?”
As soon as you give an affirming nod, he’s out of bed and hurrying down the hall. It doesn’t take very long for him to come back to you, a glass of water in one hand and a pack of painkillers in the other. 
“Thank you,” you finally utter with a small smile, still upset at having ruined the sheets but so incredibly grateful for his tolerance. Patiently, he waits for you to take your dosage before he’s sweeping you up in his arms and carrying you into his en suite. 
“Get cleaned up, angel,” he voices into you hair before placing you back on your feet, “I’ll change the sheets in the mean time,” he leaves you with a kiss before you could utter another word of apology. He wasn’t going to take it, he made that very clear, because it wasn’t your fault. And it was nothing a little oxi stain remover couldn’t fix. 
The start to the day wasn’t ideal but James, Remus and Sirius made one of the most agonising and frustrating times of the month for you much more enjoyable. James woke his two lovers up while you were showering in his bathroom, thanking your lucky stars that you bought a spare change of clothes just in case you wanted to shower, and they all made the effort of getting you comfortable. 
James changed his bedsheets and laid a dark coloured towel down for you to lay on top of just to catch any more potential leakage. He made sure you didn’t see his bloodied sheets again too so that you wouldn’t continue feeling guilty and happily took care of the stains away from your line of sight. Sirius worked on breakfast as Remus made you some tea and a hot water bottle and, before James steps out of the flat to buy you period pads, you hear Remus call out helpfully, “look for the long, heavy flow pads and make sure to get the ones with wings,” their thoughtfulness makes you smile. 
“How did you know to get these ones?” you ask when James comes back, panting as he hands you the pack of pads through the door of his en suite. 
“Remus told me, and I heard girls experience heavier flows on the first few days,” his answer draws out a proud smile. You have no doubt you’d be well taken care of in this relationship, though it does make you bashful. 
“Thank you, James,” 
For breakfast Sirius cooked you french toast with strawberries and honey, apparently it was the only good thing he could cook. Remus balanced the sweetness of the meal out with some eggs and toast, while James brought over the tea and hot water bottle Remus had also prepared. Breakfast was pleasant but they boys were insistent that you stay in James’ bed and call if you needed anything. As much as they wanted to spend the full day right by your side, they were preparing to make the announcement of returning their business into full operations and were still taking calls and responding to client emails at home. You didn’t argue, you knew the shop was important to them so you didn’t want to be a burden. 
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The day drags by and you know they’ve made it clear that you could freely call out to them whenever but the hours drag by and they haven’t heard a single peep. They didn’t mean to lose their full attention in their work; it’s been so long since they were last filled with the motivation to keep up with their business that emails and paperwork on equipment orders had piled up significantly so they were swamped. Thankfully they were finally inspired enough that the work didn’t feel laborious. Unfortunately, that meant seeing them in their element though James’ open doorway and shying away from redirecting their attention back to you. 
It wasn’t until you willed yourself to walk to their kitchen that you finally caught their attention. All phone calls, email responses and paperwork filing was stopped as soon as you stepped into their line of sight when your craving for a snack became too much. They had gone for a quick shop to buy you an array of snacks from sweet to savoury that morning and had left the bag on their kitchen counter. You were just reaching for the bag when Remus caught your wrist and swept you up into his arms in order to carry you back into James’ bed. 
All three of them felt incredibly guilty for having neglected you, unintentional or not, they even neglected themselves in the process by prioritising their work and forgetting about lunch. In Remus’ head, everything circled back to the night before as a chain of linked events. As you laid in bed, curled up and nibbling on a chocolate bar, you watch and listen as Remus scolds the two about how, if the outburst didn’t happen, they wouldn’t have asked you to stay the night, you wouldn’t have agreed and you wouldn’t have had to suffer from their incompetent care. Remus was being too hard on himself, which reflected directly onto Sirius and James.
“This is why I said we needed to be careful and. To. Be. Patient,” Remus snarls under his breath, almost growling at Sirius and James who stand at the foot of the bed. James nods with a disappointed sigh as Sirius crosses his arms and huffs in defiance. They’re developing a bad habit of speaking about you when you’re still in the same room but, at least, it means their thoughts are open to you.
“I didn’t see you complain when you watched James and I practically devouring her sweet little mouth yesterday,” Sirius’ challenging comment makes the tips of James’s ears turn visibly pink as an embarrassing heat climbs up your neck to bloom across the apples of your cheeks. Interestingly, James can barks and bites to his heart’s content with you but if anybody else brings it up, it seems that bashfulness isn’t far behind. 
Remus shakes his head and pinches the bridge of his nose, “don’t start now, Sirius—”  
“—I-I don’t mind, we’re all learning to love together and I know how important the tattoo parlour is to all of you so I really don’t mind…” you interrupt their bickering with flushed cheeks and shy eyes, unprepared for the reaction you would receive. 
Remus snaps his full attention towards you in that moment. Your words were innocent and you look the picture of virtue, shy and sweet as you peer up at them with glittering doe eyes and a small smile. Remus doesn’t think anybody else could be more beautiful than you right now. You appreciate his passions, you support it even, you’re understanding, you’re kind, you’re loving, you’re sweet and you’re so incredibly lovable, he wants to keep you away from the rest of the world forever, selfishly keeping you for himself. He wonders if you know how much of a tease you’ve been to him this whole, working him up over and over and over again until he finally snaps.  
Morals and patience be damned — he can’t resist you anymore. 
Remus’ face carries an unreadable expression as he gives a slow exhale and strides over to you. Sirius and James watch from where they stood, unmoving but with sly smiles on their lips — they know you’re the perfect image of Remus’ weaknesses bundled into one being and they both knew this was coming. It was about time… they applaud him though, he has more patience than them — but he had more desires too. 
It all happens too fast for you to register but Remus was quickly looming over you, propped up by a hand on the bed as his other gripped at your chin. His eyes were piercing and held such promise within them, un-breaking and passionate, that you couldn’t look away. 
“Don’t tempt me, beautiful girl,” his voice lowers several octaves and is underpinned by a hypnotising vibration that corrupts your limbs with minor tremors and a ferocious heat. Shamelessly, he captures your lips in a soft and tender kiss, an antithesis to the dark gleam in his feral eyes, “I’m not above making a mess in the bedroom,” you gasp at the implication and, for a moment, your cramps become pleasantly arousing. Again, Remus can’t help but hold your lips hostage in an increasingly impassioned embrace. He greedily eats up your pretty moans, the muffled sounds going straight to his groin and making his smart trousers uncomfortably tight — a prickling warning to his precarious conduct, “so be a good girl and sit pretty until after you get over this, okay?” he utters roughly against your lips. 
He’ll wait just a little bit longer…it’ll be worth it.
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NAVI. | SERIES M.LIST | NEXT : ... →
A/N : goodness me, this was so much harder to write than previous chapters, i kept changing so many things but i think i'm satisfied with the final product, i hope you darlings do too~ the next chapter will be a pretty big one i think, so i won't be posting it for a while, however, i may post short additional imagines/scenarios for this series that don't necessarily follow the chronological order just to satiate some of you XD anywho~ i hope you darlings enjoyed this chapter and look forward to the next one
TAGLIST : @susyelectra @fangirlninja67 @pagesfalling @thepunisherfrankcastle @axeofwars @in-love-with-4-marauders @chicken-taco-burrito @valencia-rou @feast0nmeee @lestat-whore @hvmxjjk @twilightlover2007 @diaryofabiwoman @woohoney @celestialfantasiess @willbedecided @lovelyygirl8 @iiirhiane-g
@mangodamochiii @queerqueenlynn @l3xiluve @brain-has-left @bunbunbl0gs @citrusiove @virtualbuni @awkward-d3rs3-dr3amer @that1nerd-20 @wolfstar4everbitches @skepvids @dearmy-diary @em16cor @krazyk99 @imdoingbetternow @realalpacorn @remussbitch @swiftieeras1989 @lonely-nerd-sodaholic @canthavetoomuchchaos @b-i-h-i @ennycutie @kneelforloki @theteaobsessedbug @d1gital-data @venezsuwayla @melllinaa
973 notes · View notes
kenjakusbraincum · 7 months
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Heey, I LOVE your writings on soft sukuna, you write so beautifully🩷 please can you do one where he is jealous (fluff)😭🩷
Thank you sm for the kind words!!! Here's my best attempt at doing your idea justice <3
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Sukuna has no real reason to be jealous. He practically owns you, controls every aspect of your life, who or what could he possibly be jealous of? Every servant who dared approach you in an inappropriate way would be dealt with swiftly. And you're a good pet, who has eyes for no one other than your master. You really don't give him a reason.
But there's this one thing... Since you've been so good and obedient, Sukuna has allowed you many liberties. You're permitted to skip around the mansion, watch Uraume cook, even enjoy little hobbies. You've tried many before you found that crocheting particularly piqued your interest. Ever since you've learned the basics, you've been spending hours working on perfecting your skills. At first it was cute, watching you squint in concentration as you move the hook. But then the math became really simple - having this hobby to keep you busy meant you approached Sukuna out of boredom a lot less. And he noticed it. It irked him, but you're not technically doing anything wrong. You were still as happy to serve him as ever, he just had to ask. But why would he have to ask? You should be all over him on your own. He should have to push you away, not beg you to give him attention. He didn't like this disturbance in your master and pet balance that this little hobby of yours caused.
He stands at the door now. You're crocheting again. You and your favorite servant laugh at your failed creation so sweetly, you don't even notice he's waiting. He clicks his tongue to establish his presence, and your servant falls to her knees immediately. You however, are not held to that high of a standard anymore.
"Master!", you call him, and hop up to greet him with a deep bow. Before he can say anything, you've picked up the piece of fabric you've been working on and ran into his arms to show him.
He looks at the ugly form and scoffs. "This is what I'm sponsoring?", he says and pulls a loose piece of yarn, making your little creation fall apart. He always was a bully, but you note his bad mood.
"I'm only a beginner...", you sulk.
"That much is obvious.", he flicks the yarn away and it falls onto the floor. Before you can bend to pick it up, he seizes your wrist and pulls you back. "Aren't you a little young to waste time with hobbies for the elderly?", he asks. You look at him with your cutest, practiced doe eyes, but it doesn't work.
"Come, pet. I know an activity more suitable for your age.", he says when you don't respond, and steps out of the room. You hop after him, unaffected by his condescending comments. You know that they're just for show. If he really thought you were a hag, you would've been gone a long time ago.
"Sitting at your throne all day?", you tease innocently and join him at his side, sliding your arm underneath one of his. You hope your playfulness will distract him from whatever is bothering him. "Or in a bath?" His lower set of eyes peeks at you and smirks, noticing that you're feeling particularly daring today. He's not sure how he feels about that. "Or in your bed." He rolls his eyes gently and opens the door to his chambers.
"At least then you'd be serving your purpose and actually spending time with your master.", he comments and shuts the door. His comment catches you a bit off guard and you stop in front of his bed. He makes his way towards you, and you look up at him with an insulted expression.
"Master, are you jealous of a ball of yarn?", you ask playfully, and squeal when he suddenly pushes you down to sit on the bed. Now you're at eye level... with his crotch.
"You've got quite a big mouth today. Put it to good use for a change, will you?", he runs his hand from the crown of your head to the back of your neck. You seem to have struck a nerve, so it really is the ball of yarn. Is it possible that Sukuna is this clingy?
"Will you?", he repeats and tugs on your hair and narrows his eyes. You smile obediently and reach behind him to untie his obi.
"Yes Master."
-
You try your best to manage the time you spend crocheting from then on, working on productivity in the hours that you dedicate to developing this skill. And it helps that you have a specific goal in mind now: helping Sukuna realize that this hobby is a friend, not an enemy. He still catches you engaging in it sometimes, and gives you a dirty look, but you're as quick as ever to drop what you're doing and join him. That seems to satisfy him.
When you're finally happy with the result of your creation, you look for Sukuna around the mansion. It's not really that hard to find him, as he frequents three places most of all: the dining room, his bedroom and his throne room. This time, he's sitting on his throne, and a small line of people wait for their turn to be gifted his attention. You on the other hand, don't have to wait in line to get it. His lower set of eyes spots you the moment you enter the chamber. You're allowed to roam the mansion, but barging in unannounced is not standard even for you.
Still, Sukuna has learned that you usually only feel daring enough to cross boundaries when you're sure he'll like what you have in mind. So for now, he will let this slide. He's bored as hell anyways. The people are dismissed and you pass by them on your way to his throne, nestled on a pile of bones. You stop in front of it and greet him with a bow.
"Master, I come to you with a humble offering.", you say with your hands on your thighs and your eyes fixated on the ground.
"Show me.", he says simply, but you recognize entertainment in his voice. You climb up the bones and feel his stare scan you from head to toe, before you sit on his knee.
"May I ask you to close your eyes?", you ask and flutter your lashes. Oh the way you seduce him. Who else could ask Sukuna to do something as dangerous as close his eyes? Give his opponent valuable time to land an attack. Who else could dare? And who else would he ever listen to and really close his eyes? Really do as he's told? Oh how safe he feels with you.
You take one of his large hands into yours, and gently pry his long fingers away to open his palm. He has beautiful hands. The only ones you've ever known, but you're sure they're the most beautiful hands in the world. So dangerous, so elegant. You want to press a kiss to his palm, but you hope your gift will have the same, maybe even more profound effect.
Something soft touches his skin, and then you speak, as politely as before. "You may look.", in your softest voice. And when he opens his eyes, he finds himself looking at you first. You're an offering on your own.
Then he looks at his hand. Two crocheted plush figures resembling him and yourself lay flat on his palm, connected through their holding hands. At first glance, it looks like they're two separate creations. In a sense, they are, but... He tries to part them.
"We're sewn together.", you explain. He hums in amusement and inspects your gift more closely. His plush is bigger, recognizable by the pink hair and four buttons for eyes. It's even wearing his favorite kimono. Yours is smaller and less detailed. You look like any other human when placed next to him, insignificant. But in a sea of pets, entertainers and lovers he's had in the past, he would never fail to recognize it as you.
He's spent so long looking at it with that face of his that you just can't read. You're starting to grow restless in his lap, and he feels your eyes dwell into his soul. When he looks back at you with one pair of eyes, your brows are furrowed in worry and you're fiddling your hands in your lap. He pats you on the head and pulls you closer, so you have no choice but to lean on his frame.
"It's beautiful, darling.", his fingers run through your hair, scraping your scalp softly. "No loose threads either.", he looks at you with all four eyes now, and you feel so small in his arms. You're not used to receiving this many compliments from Sukuna at once. Not ones that weren't directed at your body or performance. Especially not when he's looking at you so tenderly, when every word sounds so loving and genuine. "You've improved so much.", his hand is on your face now, and you catch him glancing at your lips. You part them to start thanking him, but you already know how much he hates listening to that.
You stay quiet instead, and lean closer, letting him take you. And he kisses you so softly, fingertips light against your heated skin. You feel like you're floating, like a lily pad in a warm pond. The littlest gesture of his affection has you melting in his embrace. The power he has over you... and how wonderful it is to surrender yourself to it.
None of the liberties and privileges you've been awarded with compare to this. You know that many pets have walked these halls before you. Many warmed his bed and claimed the title of his favorite. But how many loved him like this? Enough to dedicate time of their day to making intricate gifts. How many could say Sukuna kissed them lovingly, for no other reason than to show gratitude and affection?
You're flushed completely red by the time his lips leave yours. You can't hold the intensity of his gaze, as he stares at you in adoration. "I'm happ.. I'm glad you l-like it...", you stumble through the words and win a giggle out of him. You are just so cute. Like a pet should be. He rubs your head again and pushes you away lightly.
"Go now, the people await me.", he says with a benevolent smile gracing his face. "I'll see you tonight."
You bow to him and leave.
And when you visit him that night, he is as gentle as he was when he kissed you earlier, still in a good mood after your gift. Caressing your hair, shoulders and back, as you lay comfortably with your head on his chest. Keeping you warm in his embrace. You're trying your best to follow the conversation, but sleep is slowly taking over you. Sukuna notices and plants a kiss to your forehead, wishing you goodnight. The last thing you see before your eyes close, is your handcrafted plushies sitting on his nightstand.
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the-library-alcove · 4 months
Text
One of the more disturbing symptoms of what I and other Jews refer to (with a dark and bitter humor) as "Israel Derangement Syndrome" is how quickly such individuals not only become hypocrites, but self-harming hypocrites.
There are no shortage of examples of hypocrites since October 7: feminists who deny the mass rapes on Oct 7. Landback advocates who deny Jewish history. Anti-torture advocates who support Hamas. Human rights advocates who support Hamas and the Houthis. And so forth.
But the self-harming hypocrites are a whole level beyond those examples, because their anti-Israel stance has the possibility of doing themselves real harm.
Let me give an example:
Leeja Miller. YouTuber, lawyer, and civil rights advocate. She has an entire series on "How [subsection of the US Right] Has Ruined Everything", and did several videos on the danger of a second term for Donald Trump, including one dedicated to Project 2025. That is the openly published plan to remake the US into a dictatorship under the next Republican president, giving details on how they will target minorities to have their rights stripped away, our legal protections against abuse by the rich and powerful weakened or removed, and generally make the US into a real life version of the Handmaid's Tale. So she knows what is at stake, directly and personally from her research. She knows how many people will be harmed or die under a Republican presidency, and how much it will harm the world at large if Trump gets back into the White House. It's not just the US population that will be harmed, it will be places like Ukraine, Taiwan... and Palestine. Because Trump and Netanyahu are fellow wannabe dictators.
And her Israel Derangement Syndrome is so severe that she just uploaded a video saying that, due to Biden supporting Israel alone, she can no longer advocate that her viewers vote for him.
Leeja knows what is at stake both in the US and in the Levant, and knows how Trump will give Netanyahu a full green light to do whatever Netanyahu wants. And yet, she is so fixated on "punishing Biden" for doing diplomacy and trying to rein in Netanyahu that she is willing to accept the risk of Trump regaining power.
And that's not only hypocrisy, that's hypocrisy that can have massive consequences for her and other people like her. And just to be clear here. She's not alone in this. She's just the best example due to her position as a lawyer and educator on the law and politics, and still is so fixated on this that she, and others like her, will advocate for positions that have the potential to harm hundreds of millions of people, because of the conflict in Gaza.
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bella-goths-wife · 2 months
Note
How would the Vs react if their pet died in hell, forever?
The Vs reaction if pet died in hell
(This is not canon to the au!)
This is disturbing and gross so please be mindful of the media you’re choosing to consume!
Warnings: description of dead body, disturbing keeping’s of dead body, Vs sick version of mourning, grief, mentions of previous abuse, drug use mentioned
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You probably would have died during an extermination
Maybe the Vs got too busy to remember to reinforce the safety precautions for the tower
Or you were accidentally downstairs when they sealed their upper level off
In any case, you are killed by an angel in cold blood
But the Vs didn’t know that yet, they were too busy at their viewing party that spies on the hazbin hotel to watch in case alastor dies
They assumed you were just in your room and decided to leave you be since they were so interested in their little spy drones
So when Vox goes to your room to check up on you and doesn’t see you in your bed, he panics
He searches all his cameras while he sends the other two to search for you
Eventually they find your body thrown across the rubble and cut open
It all happens in a very saltburn fashion
Vox doesn’t know how to react as he just drops to his knees and holds your head up while muttering about how you must be feeling cold without a jacket
Velvette just stares before mentioning how it’s almost time for breakfast and that they should all head inside, choosing to live in denial and push her feelings down for the meantime
Valentino stifles a few cries as he just stares at your dead body
They wait for someone else to get rid of your body but as soon as another demon touches your body, vox snaps and shoves them away and picks you up himself
They had to decide what to do with your body
Velvette suggested stuffing you like a doll and keeping you in her office so she could choose a new outfit for you everyday, but Vox and Valentino refused
Not because it’s disturbing and disrespectful for your dead body, but because she’d have more time with you then they would
Valentino suggested having your body burnt and fashioning accessories out of your ashes, but the other two said it would be a waste of your body
Eventually Vox had an idea, and he searched for a demon he met many many years ago
This demon had the ability to restore an item to the original condition it was in 24 hours before
It wouldn’t be able to bring you back to life since they had just missed the 24 hour window when finding your body, but they could keep your body in its first stage of the effects of death
That means your body would remain warm and soft, as if you were just sleeping
Vox had your wounds stitched up to make you look like you were just asleep and he placed you in your bed and commanded the demon to come every day and restore your body so you wouldn’t rot away
He chose to deal with your death by throwing himself into denial
He’d pretend you were just sick in bed and would still visit your corpse every night to ‘check up on you’
He’d watch you through the cameras in your bedroom in case you needed him
He started finishing work earlier to spend time with your corpse and calming ‘his daughter was sick so he had to get going’
If someone tried to point out you were dead they would receive a threatening glare and even more if they weren’t Valentino or velvette
Velvette refused to go along with that plan for the first few months, and chose to deal with your death by pushing her feelings down and finding a replacement
She assumed it was like buying a new dog after her old one had died, and refused to believe she had any emotional attachment to you
So she tried finding your replacement
She’d hire assistant after assistant who either shared your physical looks, your personality, your ability or your mannerisms
But none of them could match you in the way she needed, so she’d end up killing them or firing them
So she gave in to voxs fantasy, and began to talk to your corpse like you’d respond and began to dress your body in a new outfit every day
This worked for her, she could pretend you were here and she could still deny ever having an attachment to you
Valentino was surprisingly the one to not live into the fantasy that you were only asleep
He was the one to care about you the least in life, but he was also the one to mourn you the most on death and feel the most guilt
He drowned his sorrows in his drugs, his alcohol and his employees
He thought about how he treated you in your life, and while he didn’t feel guilt for how he abused you he did feel like a part of his missed having someone around who he could pour his frustrations into
But now you were a dead, and that somehow humanised you to him
He sometimes would get so drunk that he’d wander into your room and sit beside your corpse just to vent about how angry he felt that you’d died
How dare you? Who gave you permission to leave?
He’d just stare at your corpse and scoff, not buying into the delusions that the other two were about your dead body just being asleep
He held a funeral for you which just had him and angel dust in attendance since the other two Vs refused to believe you were dead
Angel dust was only invited because val wanted something warm to hold as he felt the complicated feelings your death brought out in him
And even so, angel dust was sure that however sad your death was and how tragic it was
You were better off dead then living with these people
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@corvid007 @buttercupfangirl @lilyalone @ivebeenthearchersstuff @repostingmyfavs @the-faceless-bride @fandomaddict505 @hazbinhotelxreader @perkypeony @sparkleyfishies @idontreallyexistyet
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Plan: Simon Ghost Riley x f!wintersoldier!reader
"This has to fabricated."
"It's not-"
"What the fuck is going on?"
"This can't be fucking real, Kate. There's no way."
The room had erupted with anger soon after the perpetrator was revealed to be you. After the initial shock came the denial, the anger that every single one of them felt because of the disturbing information that still displayed on the projector.
No one could believe it. No one wanted to.
"It's someone who looks like her." Price declared as he refused to look at the projector. "She's MIA."
"You really believe that, Cap?" Gaz scoffed and though he seemed like he was trying to keep his cool it was easy to see on his face he was just as distressed as everyone else.
Ghost hadn't said a word since his eyes landed on you. He was stuck frozen in his spot, his hands curled into fists that shook slightly as he burned holes into the screen staring at your image.
It was you. He knew the moment Laswell zoomed in on you. He may have avoided looking at any pictures of you he came across but he could never quite forget your eyes, not when he had spent so many times staring at them when you'd sit by his side or when you were across the room from him.
No matter how hard he tried to forget about you, to selfishly convince himself that you were dead so he didn't have to deal with any of the horrible emotions that still wounded him to this day, you were always in the back of his mind. He could truly never forget you.
But even with the shitty quality of the CCTV he could tell that something was different with you. You stood differently, more rigid than he had ever known you to be. From what he could see of your face, you looked hardened and angry, completely different from the last time he had saw you.
But there was no denying it. You were the one who stole the USB.
"It's her." He managed to say through a clenched jaw.
Ghost felt bile in his throat. He could hardly keep his thoughts straight with the storm of emotions that raged inside him. It was like his entire world was crashing down around him and he naively wished this was some horrible nightmare but it was real, all of it was.
"I cannae believe this." Soap mumbled. "She wouldn't...turn on us would she?"
The room went silent again.
You wouldn't. Ghost knew you wouldn't do anything to harm them or betray them, not with how close you were with them before you disappeared. You were loyal, almost to a fault and to even suggest that you would do something to betray the 141 made his blood boil and yet...you had stolen intel from them. Very valuable intel that could end lives.
You were working with some group, a bad group he knew that much, that was in direct opposition with the 141.
"It doesn't matter if she would or not." Laswell tried to keep a level voice but hidden in her eyes was pain and conflict as well. "She stole the intel and we need to get it back."
None of them missed the way she avoided speaking about what they needed to do to you. It seemed like none of them could fully believe that you betrayed them, that you would work against everything that you stood for.
Ghost denied it. You wouldn't do this willingly. You had to have been blackmailed or threatened. That was the only reason he could justify it.
A pit formed in his stomach and his throated tightened at the thought of you with this group, what that could really mean, but he ignored it. He turned to Price and gave him a firm stare, one that he hoped would get his point across.
"When we get the intel back, we're getting her back too." He said it like there was no debate because there wasn't.
Ghost was bringing you back whether Price or Laswell allowed it or not.
Luckily Price nodded and he spared one last glance at you before he looked at Laswell.
"We need to find out who they are." He said and she gave him a look.
She hesitated before she nodded. There was uncertainty in her eyes but she closed her laptop and looked to them all.
"Get into contact with Nik. I'll ask my contacts if they know anything."
When she left the room fell silent. There was nothing any of them could say to each other that would make the situation better, nothing that would help them believe that this wasn;t real.
You were alive. You had reappeared.
And you were against them.
the tag list is closed!
A/n: i hope this makes sense I struggled a little bit. we'll get into the meat of it later on
Tags: @bucky-lents @theweirdgeninistuff @igotchuuknj @rafaelacallinybbay @yyiikes @paintlavillered @tacticalanklebiter3000
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i-drop-level-one-loot · 10 months
Text
Smile❤️ (Yandere X Loser!Reader)
Micky thought that he couldn't feel love.
Ever since he could remember, Micky couldn't connect with anyone on an emotional level. Even his own family members were like aliens to him, creatures that stretched their lips into strange contortions, ETs that became unreasonable when he wouldn't do the same. As a teenager many girls flirted with him in school, hell, a few guys did as well, but none of their confessions ever stirred any emotion from him, even at the height of his puberty. The smiles of the people around him never felt warm or welcoming. Just, tight. Cheeks pulled back, revealing teeth, expecting him to mirror their action, and Micky couldn't understand why.
Nothing made him smile.
College was further isolating. Group projects seemed to no longer be a thing, (at least in the classes he took) so his interactions with humans slowly became less frequent, making his classmates look more inhuman and monstrous.
Until someone in his college was doxxed for being a creep. It was interesting, watching how quickly people turned on their friend, forcing him into an outcast because someone online revealed his private post history.
An annoying young woman in his language arts class gathered people around Micky's seat to talk about what had happened. Micky wouldn't have searched up the drama on his own time, but he didn't see the point in pushing everyone away.
"This user on Xforums, anonymousXnightmare is the one who doxxed Nathan."
AnonymousXnightmare? How fucking lame.
"That's a lame username..."
"Maybe it's a kid..?"
Micky did his best to ignore them, but the username kept popping up in conversation throughout campus. It was getting a little annoying. Some people were mocking the name, while others were praising the "internet hero". It started interfering with his ability to focus in his classes.
But the gossip cooled down after a week, and life began to run as normal, until another student had their life ruined. A football player, they didn't post anything incriminating or disturbing. It was anonymousXnightmare who posted their own collected evidence. Pictures taken from afar of the player with his highschool sweetheart, as in sweetheart who was still in highschool. Recordings of the two of them. Months of stalking all compiled by the stranger.
Again, Micky was bombarded by chatter, excitable young adults losing their minds over the situation. It was... irritating.
Back in his dorm room, Micky was scrolling through Xforums, the most popular forum used by students in his university, made by students for students, searching for the loser with the lame username. Scrolling past the photos he had heard about, he found a post stating
"Dear Allen Brackens, if you cannot stop blasting your shitty music in the halls on your shitty speakers, I WILL ruin your life!"
and Micky had to lean back, to just take in what he had read. That must have been the name of the football player. What he was doing was genuinely gross, and should have been exposed by someone. But did this poster really stalk them for what looked like months just because he listened to music they didn't like?
It was so dumb.
He scrolled down farther into the mystery poster's history, to the first man they doxxed.
"Dear Nathan McAllister, we all know you're a two faced little bitch. Either stop littering the campus with your Jesus pamphlets, or else..."
Micky, for the first time in his life, was amused. The whole situation was so stupid. They really ruined their fellow students lives, just because they annoyed them?
He made an account just to follow his mystery poster, not sure yet why he was interested to see what they would post next.
Less than two days later, and Micky's phone notified him of another post.
"Dear Samantha Rudbeckia, your obnoxious laughter is driving me insane. Can't you see how annoying you are? Knock it off."
That was it?! That was enough to set you off? Laughter? Micky paused mid step, still staring down at his phone. Something felt off about his face. It hurt.
It was pretty easy to find anonymousXnightmare in his school. Micky picked up a map of the university, and mapped out the paths of the three people targeted. They ran into a lot of different students throughout their day. But they only ran into a couple of people who openly seemed to hate them, and only one of those people was a student named (Reader). (Reader), who constantly appeared as though they would collapse at any moment, the hollows under their eyes so dark they looked sickly. (Reader), who despite being borderline anemic, was very sneaky, and very good and being unnoticeable despite their extreme appearance. Unfortunately for them, they had someone watching them as closely as they watched their victims bullies. Micky watched as they stealthily snapped photos of students from around corners, how they seemed to blend into the background and nobody noticed them hiding in waiting.
Micky felt ashamed for ever thinking you were lame. You were.. cute.
The way you crouched like a bug, hunched over like a roly poly scared of being picked up. The way you bit your dry lips in anger to the point they bled.
Micky's face hurt more and more. Every time he saw (Reader) a pain he had never felt before would strain at his cheeks, and his face would feel hot all over. It wasn't until he caught a glimpse of himself in his reflection in a window that Micky realized he was smiling. He never knew that smiling hurt. But he couldn't stop it.
Pictures and videos of Samantha and her married professor were posted online, and Micky was excited to know what (Reader's) face would look like when they reaped the fruits of their labor. But when he snuck into their classroom, zooming in on their exhausted face with his phone's camera, he felt a new emotion seeing that (Reader) was just as annoyed as they always were. A hard pit fell from his ribs into his lower stomach. He was disappointed.
Why aren't you happy? You won. You should be rejoicing right now.
He felt conflicted and confused. Like an octopus was throwing a tantrum in his abdomen, squirming uncomfortably. And it ruined his day. Micky couldn't focus on any of his classes, and the rest of his day was like a foggy dream. What was it about (Reader) that attracted him to them so much?
A cute young woman with smooth black hair approached Micky, a dark blush complimenting her picture perfect face.
"Um, excuse me? Excuse me? Excuse me?"
Micky snapped out of his thoughts, turning his gaze down towards the beautiful person. Her rosey lips were slightly upturned in a posed way.
She's smiling.
Micky internally verbalized it. The same way he did whenever he saw anyone smiling. It never looked good. Smiling was so awkward, and strange. People loved seeing others smiling, and smiled when they were happy, but it always reminded Micky of how not one of them he was.
"Hi! My name is Maggie."
I don't care.
"We have econ together?"
"Okay."
Why was seeing her smile make her look fake, inhuman, alien? Just like everyone else. Then why was Micky so let down seeing (Reader's) lukewarm reaction to their victory?
"I was wondering, I mean, (laughs), a group of us are going out for drinks later, and we, I was wondering if you wanted to come with us.."
She giggled nervously, fiddling her fingers and biting her lip. The image of (Reader) practically eating their lower lip was triggered like a trap. This woman, whose name wasn't worth remembering, made Micky feel nothing. The uncanny feeling of speaking with a living mannequin or an advanced AI. Her movements weren't natural, her smile was just a contraction of muscles. Then, like an epiphany, Micky realized all at once what made (Reader) so special.
Maybe, it wasn't that everyone else was alien, but Micky. Micky was the only one who never fit in. The only one who didn't feel emotions or connect with others like everyone else could. And there was a bug walking around in human clothes, barely staying awake in class and casually ruining peoples' lives simply because they annoyed them. (Reader) wasn't a human either, just like Micky. That's why they didn't seem happy with their victory. Why would a human bring them joy?
Micky's lips pulled tight, smiling brightly at the young woman before walking away without saying a word.
You're the first person to make me feel, because you're just like me. Right, (Reader)? If no one but you can make me feel, then no one but me should be able to make you smile!
:::::::::::::::::::::::::
(Reader) slouched over their laptop, their messy hair pulled back in a top bun just to keep their untrimmed bangs out of their eyes in the privacy of their dorm, eating another cup of noodle while reading all of their "fan mail". Samantha wasn't getting kicked out like they had hoped, but Professor what's-his-nuts did get canned, so hopefully when Samantha comes back to class she'll be too busy sobbing "woe is me" to find anything funny.
Ba-ding♪
A private message popped up from an account with an automated username.
(Reader) snorted so hard a noodle went up into their sinuses.
user01793664544001: I know who you are <3
"Ah-ow! God damn!"
anonymousXnightmare: Who the fuck is this?
user01793664544001: ur prince charming <3
anonymousXnightmare: Don't fuck with me
user01793664544001: come find me
"Watch me, bitch."
Looking up IP addresses is a lot easier than people make it seem. It doesn't take a genius hacker to doxx someone. Of course, (Reader) goes above and beyond, often following assholes for months to collect evidence of their douche baggery. (Reader) got an address in less time than it took to finish their noodles, and took down their hair, quickly setting out to start getting information on their newest "bully".
The address took them to another dorm across campus. How dumb are they? (Reader) faux chuckled, feeling superior to this newest dick. No one was quite as smart as them.
As they crept through the building, no one payed them any attention as they began taking notes on the residents. It had to be one of these losers.
They didn't have a chance to fight back, as they passed one of the rooms the door opened and pulled them inside faster than they had a chance to scream. The man who abducted (Reader) wrestled them to the floor, panting heavily.
(Reader) glared up at the handsome stranger, smiling down at them in a creepy way, his cheeks twitching like he had never smiled before, like his face hurt from the small action. His face was pink and he was sweating, panting with a feverish moisture glazing his eyes.
"Aren't you happy? You found me~"
"G-Get off of me, you pervert!" (Reader) attempted to kick the kidnapper off of them.
This wasn't the answer he was looking for. His smile fell briefly before bouncing back.
"You're just upset because you don't know me yet. Don't worry, it took me a while to realize you and I were the same species as well, so don't worry. I'll wait, I'll wait for you to realize you love me too..."
He rambled quickly, pressing harder against (Reader's) body. A strange noise squeaked out of his throat as he seemed startled, (Reader) feeling a bulge form against their upper thigh.
"Ah, I'll wait.. I'll wait for you to love me too.. but I need you to do something for me while I wait.."
Micky stuck his fingers in (Reader's) mouth, pulling their dry lips out till they bled across his skin.
"Smile for me..."
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doobea · 11 months
Text
I CAN MAKE YOUR BED ROCK - RIN ITOSHI
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synopsis: You're a famous online smut author, married to an international superstar athlete, and everyone around you thinks you have the perfect sex life. What they don't realize is Rin sleeps in the guest room and you're still very much a virgin.
contents: fem!reader, explicit content (fingering, fondling, heavy petting, public indecency, and makeout sessions), suggestive themes, mainly written in rin's pov, characters are all in their mid/late-20s, his teammates are just trying to help (not really), romcom, he has a therapist!!, idk probably secondhand embarrassment, mutual pinning and they are both awk, mdni word count: 3K a/n: tbh i actually have no idea how to write smut scenes so apologies in advance ps due to popular demand... there IS a taglist below haha just comment on the fic if you want to be added to the next batch c:
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二 : Baby, wanna spend it all on you -> prev. ->next.
When Rin thought about his life after college, he'd imagine things a certain way. He'd expected to move abroad, a new city, a new life. He'd expected to play alongside his older brother and for a football team of a different caliber, offering different techniques and skill levels that would promote a challenge to him.
What he didn’t expect was staying in Japan, getting married by the age of 24, playing alongside his teammates from the Blue Lock academy, and representing his nation in the upcoming world cup. It wasn't bad by his standards, just not ideal - more so over the team rather than the location and marriage, surprisingly. He's currently stuck with the same teammates that love to tease him endlessly. But a voice in his head tells him that they're probably the only people who could mesh well with his play style; so he tolerates them.
Here's what Rin Itoshi's teammates know about him: he's married to a famous author, he's fluent in English, he's the most Virgo man out there, he always keeps his phone on 'Do Not Disturb', and his favorite movie is The Shining.
And here's what they don't know about him: he's in an arranged marriage, he's madly in love with you so much to the point where he has all your favorite food orders listed in his notes app, he carries around a physical signed copy of one of your novels at all times (you have no clue and he's never going to tell you), and he's a virgin.
Shocker!
Not many people could crack Rin and not many try. The football player had a reputation for being anti-social, rude, and extremely blunt. But Isagi Yoichi is not like many people. Being one of his long-time teammates (friend - Isagi would like to correct him from time to time), he would always find a way to make Rin slip up more details about his 'top-secret' life. It wouldn't always work and often times the conversation will end with Rin kicking a ball to his head - ouch.
But today felt different, Rin had noticed the shorter male peering at him with mischief laced in his eyes when he had walked onto the training grounds early morning. Rin was prepared to kick the ball extra hard this time around.
"What genre does your wife usually write?" Isagi asks nonchalantly as he begins routine stretches on the turf.
"Why does that matter to you?" Rin bites back while doing his own sets of warm-ups next to him.
Isagi is unfazed and continues, "I've been trying to find something new to read nowadays. It's hard to find good books!"
Sarcasm, Rin notices.
"Even if you did read her books, I highly doubt you'd understand the words."
"Pfft, what does she write physics textbooks or something?"
Before Rin could even insult back, he hears a loud bang from the locker room and one of his teammates running out. Karasu jogs to the field and Rin feels all the color wash off his face. In Karasu's hands held the physical copy of your best-selling novel, 'Pleasure Master Prejudice', the book that Rin always carries in his sports bag.
Suddenly, Rin wants to take back all the harsh insults he's said to his team's face. He starts praying, half expecting the football player to run towards him with flowers instead of your dirtiest erotica story known to man, he will repent all of his sins in this moment.
"Yo," Karasu smirks and waves the book around for everyone else to see, "check out what I found on the locker room floor!"
Rin makes a mental note that he is definitely going to schedule an emergency call with his therapist later.
Otoya is first to make a beeline toward the taller player, immediately snatching the book from his hands and flipping through the pages. "Holy shit, this is nasty!"
"Wait let me see–"
Rin blinks in disbelief as he watches his team of fully grown men scramble to the center of the field, all of them attempting to read out loud the pages and giggling like little schoolgirls. At this point, Rin thinks that the higher beings are out to get him.
"Gross! Gross!" Ranze chokes at the print.
"Guys, what the fuck is a vulva?" Igarashi screeches.
"Read this one, Reo." Nagi eagerly points to a paragraph on the bookmarked page and everyone laughs.
Reo suppresses his laughter and clears his throat, "He spreads my dripping cunt wide with his slender digits, eyes keeping in lock with mine as he hovers over my voluptuous ti–"
"Can you guys fucking stop?!"
All turn to face their redden-faced striker, surprised by the volume coming from his usual monotone voice. Rin is also surprised himself. A pregnant silence falls over the team followed by the sounds of the book cover closing.
"Was that yours?" Isagi finally says.
He can't find the energy or space to punt a dozen footballs in everyone's face so today, safe to say, Rin leaves practice early.
"What brings you in today?" Anri adjusts her glasses and steadies her clipboard in her lap before looking into the camera. "It must've been pretty serious for you to call me last minute."
The football player sinks into the living room couch and tilts the laptop screen back to avoid looking at his agitated expression. He usually schedules weekly therapy sessions every Monday to decompress from his work stress and improve his social anxiety, but today is Friday and he needed Anri to hear him out. He's thankful that her schedule turned out to be flexible last minute and equally as glad that you were currently out drafting another story at a nearby cafe.
"I think I need to move out of the country or just disappear for good." He groans into his hands.
"Rin," She says with a controlled tone, "what triggered this event? Tell me how you're feeling right now."
He bites his lips, "My team knows that I read erotica." Rin shyly admits.
Anri hums on the screen, scribbling her thoughts down on the notepad, "And how does that make you feel?" She repeats.
Embarrassed? Ashamed? He didn't know where to start. He can handle the flack from his teammates tomorrow as cringe as it was today but the main reason why he feels the way he does is–
"It reminds me how I'm being physically avoidant in my marriage."
"Ah," Anri beams as if she's found gold, and Rin hears her flipping through her notepad, "are you two still talking? How long has it been since that incident?"
"A week. I'm still not sure what inclined her to go into my room since we usually keep things separate. We both chose to not talk about it and things have more or less gone back to normal."
"But is that what you want?"
"No," He removes his hands and glances at a framed wedding portrait above the fireplace, "but I'm not sure how to initiate anything with my wife. She doesn't know that I read her stories and I'm not sure if she picks up that I'm inexperienced."
"Do you think reading her published works will help you gain confidence in how you approach her?"
Rin hums in deep thought. He only started reading your novels and short stories around eight months back out of curiosity on a slow practice day. When you guys initially got together, he never really asked about your background due to his ignorance of 'she's probably just another YA novelist'. So, when he typed in your alias into the search bar, he was absolutely taken aback by how lewd and explicit everything was. He felt a sense of insecurity knowing that you've probably had most of these acts done to you (how else were you able to write a detailed bondage scenario) and he couldn't live up to that nor see your evident disappointment if you ever find out that you're his first everything.
"Not sure." Rin answers.
Anri flashes the male a pondering look in her eyes before deciding to leave the lingering topic for their Monday session. They briefly exchange their goodbyes, ending the call with her advice of 'trying to approach things in her shoes', Rin isn't exactly sure what Anri meant by that.
A light buzz comes from the coffee table and he sees your contact flash in his notifications. He sometimes feels like you're taunting him with your comedic timings.
my love hey babe if you're free later do you wanna come shopping with me?
It's already been one hell of a day, why not relax in some retail therapy with your wife? Maybe he can try to attempt whatever Anri was suggesting.
When you told him to meet you at the new corner store located next to a ceramics store, Rin was half expecting it to be another bookstore or beauty outlet. Never in a million years would he have predicted that you brought him to a sex shop of all places.
The boutique is painted in blotches of purple and black circles with two towering rose bushes on either side. Grey mannequins are on display by the arched windows facing the street and they are covered from head to toe in a series of lace, leather, and chain underwear sets. And he spots you, already inside the store staring intensely at your phone with your tote bag in hand before locking eyes and sending over a coy smile.
Rin has been in many unpredictable and hard situations, in football of course, but he couldn't see where this outcome might lead. He finds the strength to wave back after gawking for who knows how long, unaware of his sweat-covered palms, and steps inside a world he's alarmingly unaware of.
"Did you wait long?" He manages to remain composed and refuses to look anywhere else but your face.
"Nope," You reach out to interlock your fingers with his, "I just got here a minute ago. How was practice?"
Rin can't help but roll his eyes, "Wasn't the best, let's talk about something else?" And you nod. "Did you need anything from here, hon?"
"Ah, well..." You scratch your flushed cheeks in thought before nudging him towards the floral pattern-laced body suits in the corner. "I want to incorporate something similar in my writings but I want a personal opinion of them first."
Suddenly, Anri's words pop up in his mind again. How could he see himself in your shoes and what should his response be? Was this strictly for your work or is there a hidden meaning behind it, he thinks to himself. Before he could provide you an answer, a male sales associate interrupts.
"That's a wonderful choice, miss!" The blond male's voice booms through the store’s walls as he struts his way over, wearing a pair of obnoxiously shiny brown loafers, tight black leather pants a size too small, and a white collared shirt with the first two buttons popped open, exposing just a bit of chest hair, "Our Forget-Me-Not Floral collection is seasonal right now and it's been a fan favorite since release!"
“Oh!” Your eyes sparkle at the fact, “May I try a few on?”
Rin feels oddly annoyed, and it's a different type of annoyance compared to Isagi and the rest of his team. He subconsciously tightens the grip around your hand but doesn’t say anything.
The male nods vigorously and shuffles through the drawers, quickly selecting the most revealing ones that the collection has to offer. There was hardly any coverage other than thin white straps and embroidered flowers barely covering where the breasts and vagina would be. Why is this boutique charging so much for something that covers so little? But for some reason, you didn’t seem to mind and happily took the associate’s suggestions.
“Plenty of people like to get the nightgown version, but these are my personal favorites.”
“Thank you so much um—”
The male winks, “Chris Prince.”
And Rin thinks to himself, what an obnoxious name for an obnoxious guy.
You swiftly march yourself to the dressing room with the items in hand, assuring Rin that it’ll only be a short while, and he takes a seat on their small ottoman right outside. He feels Chris’ gaze burn at the back of his head but he pays no mind to it - Rin didn't want to cause headlines tomorrow on top of the series of unfortunate events for today. So, to busy himself, he pulls out his phone and texts you instead.
Rin "Everything alright?" my love "Yes! Getting it on is a bit challenging, trying to figure that out rn haha" Rin "I’m sure it’ll look fine regardless how you wear it" my love "Thanks, Rin :) "
Another notification comes through making Rin frown immediately as he recognizes the name of the sender.
shithead "We’re still cool?" Rin "Fuck off, Isagi." shithead "Lol glad to hear that. See you at practice tomorrow then?" Rin "Sleep with one eye open tonight."
“Hey, honey?” Your voice calls out in the distance, “Could you help me with something real quick?”
He isn't sure what's more revealing - the fact that you're practically almost naked with just lines of sheer fabric barely covering anything up or the face he's making right now. You seem to catch on to his discomfort and quickly hug the front part of your body with your shirt, mumbling an apology afterward. He rushes to close the dressing room curtains, hoping the weird sales associate isn't listening in.
"I can't get the neck part to look right..." You turn around slowly, exposing your bare back and bottom. He thinks you should've worn a hospital gown because this might be too much for his little innocent heart to handle.
Rin feels a lump forming in his throat and knots churning in his stomach while trying to take everything in. He couldn't help his wandering eyes and stood there for a bit, simply admiring what was in front of him. "You look amazing." And it comes out breathier than what he wanted it to.
This is the first time he's seen you almost naked and, the fact it's in a lingerie store, makes him feel terrible as a partner. This brings him back to Anri's wise words from today's session and the past eight months of solid 'research' he's conducted.
Your body flinches at the touch of his slender fingers reaching for the two strands dangling around your neck that were failing to support your breasts. You feel your face reaching concerning levels of warmth as Rin moves closer, his chest practically pressing up from behind, whispering that he needed to get this knot just right. Your eyes go wide when you peer into the mirror, catching Rin's sudden sharp expression and you could've sworn his eyes went dark.
"Is this okay?" His hands rest on your shoulders and looks into the reflection with you, appreciating the finalized look. You gently drop the t-shirt to the floor, mouth agape. The sheer, embroidered cups now fit your breasts perfectly and the bottoms are snug against your lower half but still breathable. The lace hugged and accentuated your curves just right without it being too over the top.
Suddenly, you feel painfully small in his presence.
"Y-Yeah, thanks."
Rin hums in contentment before placing shyly his hands on either side of your hips, "Is this also okay?" He drawls, breath hitting against your ears.
You merely nod in response, having a loss for words at the sudden boldness, and melt into your husband's touch. You screw your eyes shut as his hands sweep lower, fingertips brushing the fabric of the bodysuit and barely skimming your exposed thighs. He stops over where your lower region resides and presses gently against it.
"Rin," It comes out as a whisper.
He kisses your temple and smiles against your skin, "Try and be quiet, my love."
Rin's fingers continue to press against your mound with increasing intensity and you struggle to hold back any form of reaction. His other hand travels from your hips to your breast, giving it a small squeeze.
"They're so soft." He continues to grope, playing with your nipple through the lace fabric, and you feel as if your head is filled to the brim with static.
You find yourself grinding against his fingers, trembling and panting out the quietest of moans you can. "Please." It sounds ragged and raw to Rin's ears.
He tilts your head back by the jaw and sloppily pushes his tongue down your throat. Your desperate hands immediately reach for his hair and the other down to feel for his aching length growing against his pants.
"Grind against it." Rin grits through his teeth, fluttering his eyes shut as you did what he's told and he feels like his body is burning alive.
Rin ravages your lips once more and, feeling a surge of confidence, he slides the bottom of the bodysuit to one side, allowing his digits to fully feel the extent of his work. You moan loudly into his mouth, tears of pleasure forming at the corners of your eyes. He takes that as permission to enter into your folds and the texture and scent emitting from it is addicting to his senses.
"You're so wet."
"It's because of you."
His lips find their way to your shoulders and his hand on your chest grip tight against your now trembling figure as he rapidly pumps in and out of your folds. Your hands clamp over your mouth as a burning sensation tightly builds up.
"It's okay," He murmurs, "you don't have to hold back."
And just at the right angle, you watch as fireworks explode right in front of you. Your mind rewires itself slowly and suddenly everything is over-stimulating. Everything is either too bright or not bright enough. You've become hyperaware of the mesh material against your hot, sweaty skin and the sounds of poorly curated indie music that played in the background. You couldn't recognize yourself in the mirror.
Rin groans at your mess and slips out his fingers with a loud pop before setting your fatigued body against his.
"I think your readers will like it."
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