#THIS IS THE SLUG THAT SLUG TIME WAS ABOUT

[svckmyballzfr]

“I know it’s over”

Yandere Batfam x Neglected Maki Zenin!reader

Prologue, Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3 - “Where else I can go” Tw: neglect, Injury, obsession, abandonment, Torture, Abuse, SA, Death, Suicidal thoughts, Suicide, brief description about [name]’s eyes sorry (this is a disclaimer for the whole story + sorry about the bad grammar and typos, I won’t rewrite until I’m bored)

[Somewhere In Tokyo]

The sun was setting as it rained, the streetlight outside of the school buzzed as it flickered.

Heavy breathing was heard in the hallways of said, school “Well Well , if it isn’t Yuta Okkotsu my favorite weakling”

“Don’t you come near me” Yuta said shakily as three boys surrounded him in the empty classroom.

“Oh come on, don’t play hard to get” The bully said with a smirk.

“I said don’t …” Yuta said trying to said tuff but failing miserably as the bully itched closer to him. “Come on I just wanna slug you one more time before i graduate!” The bully laughed and his little minions joined in.

“Stop it..” Yuta muttered as he clenched his other arm looking down.

“Since it’s our last time together, maybe I should just kill you” The bully said as he walked closer.

“D-don’t touch me! RIKA” Yuta said in a panicked tone looking up as the bully had gotten closer with his hands towards him. A large shadow then appeared behind the bully and he froze with a wavering presence behind him.

“hm? Whatcha say?” The bully asked confused as large hands with sharp nail and went to both sides of his face. “Argh!” The bully let out a noise as his face was pulled back behind him.

….

The rain got heavier outside as yuta had crouched by the walls of the classroom muttering “I’m sorry” Blood leaks from the locker next to him slowly and it slowly opens to a mangled body.

Yuta was now sitting in a chair, in a room full of Tailsman with small lamps surrounded in the dark room to give light. He looks up staring at all the Tailsman that reached to the dark never ending ceiling.

….

“A complete cover up and a secret execution? Boy that’s some story” Gojo said unamused “The child in question did consent though.” One of the higher ups replied but Gojo quickly responded “He’s underage, just sixteen years old, and who knows how many he have cursed”

“So you’ll take him?” One of the old hags of the higher ups asked “Yes, Yuta Okkotsu will attend Jujustu high school.”

….

Yuta had his head down with his arms crossed still sitting on the chair “You make this in shop class?” Gojo said infront of him holding up a twisted knife “Yuta Okkotsu..” he finished “I-it used to be a knife..” he said softly

“I tried killing myself” He hugged his knees closer and slowly looked up “But…Rika wouldn’t let me. Gojo just stared at him “Kinda dark.” he tossed the twisted knife away. “guess what? You’re starting at a new school today.”

…

The next day at Yuta got ready for the day where he would Jujustu high! He got to walking in the hallways tiredly with his eye bags shining in the sun.

“Did you hear about the new transferred student coming today? I heard he stuffed 4 of his classmates in a locker” Panda said while he walked with [name] and Inumaki

“You mean he killed them?” [name] asked “Tuna mayo” Inumaki added “Nah, gravely injured”

“If he’s cocky I’ll put him in his place” [name] said holding her bag on her shoulder. “Bento flakes” Inumaki sighed

“Students of all grades!” Gojo said exaggerating with hand motions “We have a new student! Give him a hand!!!!!”

‘God it’s too damn early for his bullshit..’ [name] said with a her head leaning on her hand, with her legs crossed.

“not one hand…” he said sadly

“Heard the kid’s a real wet blanket, the last thing I need is an another moody rookie to look after.” (Whatever that means..)

“Salmon”

Panda hums in agreement with Inumaki, Gojo sighs and puts his hand out “Oh well then! You can come on in now!”

Yuta then opens the sliding door and as soon as his foot stepped in the classroom they sensed his cursed aura and ever stepped he took it got stronger. Panda tensed up and got aggressive and [name] eyes widen, a large menacing curse was sensed behind him and made a strange noise while facing the 3 students, [name] unzipped her bag, Inumaki put a hand on his tall collar getting ready to use his cursed technique.

Bruce Wayne had never truly possessed a reason to resent [name]—not a logical one, at least. He simply did. Or, more accurately, the reason was etched into [name]’s eyes: the exact same eyes as her mother’s.

Every time Bruce looked at her, he saw those eyes staring back—haunted by their shape, their color. He recoiled, not out of hatred, but from something far more : fear. Because he knew precisely why they unnerved him.

Her mother—the woman he loved—had abandoned him. Abandoned the Waynes. She had walked away from the life they had built, forsaking them for her Clan—a group that viewed weakness as expendable and loyalty as conditional. A Clan that had never seen her as a person, only as power.

That memory alone, of her turning her back—festered inside Bruce like a wound that refused to heal. The thought of her always lingered, sharp and unforgiving, and [name] carried that echo with every glance.

So when Bruce received a call from Naobito Zenin, irritation boiled in his chest. He instructed Alfred to sever any lines of communication. He didn’t want to hear from them. But curiosity clawed at him, and eventually, he took the call.

“Maybe M/n is finally ready to crawl back. Fine. I’ll entertain it—but I’ll make her work for it,” he had thought, even allowing a slight smile at the idea of seeing her again. Just like old times… M/n, Satoru, and him—together. A family of sorts, fractured but familiar.

But that smile shattered when Naobito’s voice turned somber. M/n was dead—she had died months ago. And now, there was a child. A daughter. His daughter.

He could barely choke out a response. “What.”

It was too much. Jason’s resurrection. The chaos of the Red Hood. And now, this?

Bruce had Gordon collect the girl from the airport and order a DNA test immediately. He needed proof—needed something solid to stand on.

The results were : the child was his. And… impossibly, she was Satoru Gojo’s as well.

The moment she stepped through the manor doors, Bruce hadn’t yet been briefed. But when his eyes met hers—one luminous blue like Gojo’s, the other the rich hue of M/n’s—he knew.

Even beyond the strange eye color, everything else was him. The cheekbones. The jawline. Even her posture. She stood tall for a six-year-old—too tall. But those eyes... they unraveled him.

He couldn’t be near her.

If he stayed, he feared he might crumble. Or worse… lash out at something so heartbreakingly innocent.

“I’m sorry for your mother’s passing,” he murmured, voice hollow and clipped, before retreating to the Batcave.

There, beneath the weight of grief he’d never prepared for, Bruce collapsed to the floor. Hands gripping the cold ground, lungs burning, air slipping through him like smoke. Pressure mounted on his chest, like unseen hands crushing his ribs. His limbs trembled. His heart thundered like a war drum in his ears.

“No, no, no, no… please stop…” he thought as panic overtook him. His vision tunneled, lips dry, mind spinning into a storm of sorrow and helplessness.

.

.

.

.

Dick never had anything against [name], he knew her mother was really close to Bruce and had seen the woman before plenty of times as robin and he couldn’t help but grow fond of her. I mean that’s basically his mother! So was nice, caring and also helped him when he had a problem with something between him, and Bruce! He could’ve hate her, never! But that changed when she had left, when he was nightwing. How could she? For that clan.

So, when Dick was in the kitchen he had got surprised by a voice behind him and when he turned he had thought it was M/n but smaller! Those eyes. Blue and e/c eyes…he got scared and kicked the poor child.

‘I mean who is this child?? Why do they have M/n eyes, and Gojo’s eyes…’ he soon snapped out of it when he seen blood dripping from her head.

hey sorry I’m so sorry…” Dick said and helped her up.

“I-It’s o-ok I’m a big girl..” [name] says as she wipes the streak of blood of off her forehead.

“Let me-“ Before he finishes he gets a text from Alfred [Master Bruce has passed out in the batcave. Please hurry here master Dick.]

“You said you were a big girl right?” He said turning his head to her. [name] nods her head eagerly.

“Then you’ll be fine handling it. I have to go. When I come back we can go to the arcade.” Dick offered a smile then left and hurried to the batcave where Alfred stood with a worried expression.

….

The next day Bruce had woke up in his bed when dick sat near with his hands on his face.“Bruce.” Dick stood up when Bruce had sat up on the edge of the bed. “What happ-“

“I can’t be a father for that girl.” Bruce interrupted and Dick froze and looked confused “The girl little that just came to the manor. I can’t be her father. That isn’t my daughter.”

Dick just stared at Bruce with a frown “Bruce-“ Bruce silently began to cry with a hand on his eyes “I can’t..” he said shakily, dick sat next to him with a hand on his back “Ok.”

Of course Dick didn’t approve of this, I mean who would??? But he could obviously see that Bruce isn’t in the right state but It’s ok he’ll be a big brother for her to lean on and see as a father…one day. Right?

.

.

.

.

Jason hated [name].

Or at least, that’s what he told himself every single time he caught her in the corner of his eye, every time someone so much as brought up her name. He’d scoff, roll his eyes, cross his arms, and say something cruel like-

“She’s a spoiled bratty bitch whose mother was a dumb whore that got herself killed.”

He said it like it was truth. Cold, harsh truth.

But deep down—where the rage throbbed and the loneliness curled into something even colder—Jason knew he was full of it. Every time he dragged her mother’s name through the mud, he was really just trying to bury how much he missed her. M/n was the only person who ever made him feel like more than a burden. She treated him like he mattered—like he was hers.

He cried harder than anyone when he found out she died. No one saw it. He made sure of that. But behind all the noise and anger and bravado, he wept for her. For the mother he never truly had, but almost did. Until she left. Until she abandoned him—right after he was kidnapped. After the Joker. After everything.

And now she was dead?

Jason couldn’t even look at photos of her without feeling like the world was cracking apart at the seams. He hated her for walking away. Hated her for dying. Hated how much he still loved her.

He had ignored Dick’s call two days ago. Didn’t want to hear anything that had to do with the manor. With Bruce. But something in Dick’s voice… something had kept him from deleting the message. So now here he was—back in the same house where everything had started to rot.

Dick looked like a wreck. Pale. Exhausted. Haunted.

Jason didn’t bother hiding his sneer. “What’s wrong with you, dickface?”

Dick barely looked up. “She’s dead.” His voice cracked like glass. He ran a trembling hand through his hair.

Jason blinked, confused. “Who?”

“M/n… I just wanted to tell you. She has a child. And she… she’s here.”

Dick couldn’t even finish. He left the room without another word.

Jason stood there for a long time. Heart pounding. Head spinning.

He wandered into the library, trying to escape the weight of it all. Grabbed a book—anything to pull him out of his own head. Tried to focus. Tried to not feel.

But the pages blurred. Wet. His hands were shaking.

Tears? No. No, stop that. I don’t care. I don’t fucking care.

But he did. God, he did.

No mission, no alias, no mask could erase the ache of being loved—and left behind.

She had come into his life. Treated him like a son. Then left. Had a baby. A new child. And then died.

Where was his closure? Where was his chance to protect her? To yell at her? To forgive her?

Jason slammed the book shut and sat frozen, chest heaving.

Then someone bumped into him.

His book hit the floor with a dull thud.

“Oh, sorry—” a small voice stammered.

He looked down.

It was like someone had punched him in the gut.

Those eyes. One blue. One [e/c].

His hands curled into fists.

So this is who she died for? This… replacement? This child? Is this the one who got her love in the end? Got her last words? Her final breath?

“Watch where you’re fucking going,” he snapped, voice low and venomous.

The girl looked down, ashamed. “...oh.”

He scoffed, bitterness thick in his throat. “Another one of Bruce’s adopted mistakes?”

“I-I’m his kid! I promise… a-and you’re my brother, right?” she said quietly, voice soft and trembling.

Jason didn’t answer. He smirked—sharp and humorless.

She thinks I’m her brother. Like she gets to call me that.

He knelt slightly, resting a heavy hand on her shoulder, watching her flinch beneath his grip. “Look, kid,” he said, voice like ice, “you’re just one of Bruce’s little distractions. And soon enough, he’ll forget about you too—just like everything else you care about. You’re not special. And I’m not your brother.”

He let her go and turned without another glance as she stumbled into the bookshelf behind her. The sound echoed like guilt.

But Jason kept walking.

And as he stormed off down the hallway, jaw clenched so tight it ached, he swore something to himself in silence.

‘You ruined the only good thing I ever had—just by being born. So don’t expect mercy. Not from me.’

Yuta explains that the Cursed Spirit is Rika, a childhood friend whom he had promised to marry when they grew up. Rika died in a freak accident and became an overprotective spirit that harms anyone who threatens him. 

During his first mission with [Name], Yuta successfully summons Rika on his own for the first time to save them from a Cursed Spirit. Three months pass in his school training, and he grows close to [Name], Toge, and Panda. One day, on a mission together, Toge and Yuta are attacked by a high-level Curse. The man behind the attack was Suguru Geto, a previous student and old friend of Gojo, who defected from the school and killed over a hundred innocent people on a mission.

Geto attempts to get Yuta on his side so they can make use of Rika, but Yuta refuses when he insults Yuta's friends due to unsettled circumstances. Geto declares war to activate a portal to the under-world: he will release a thousand Curses upon the city to remove non-sorcerer humans, as he believes them to be undeserving and beneath sorcerers. Geto's real reason for the war, however, is to distract Gojo so he can kill Yuta and add Rika to his collection of cursed spirits. Gojo realizes this upon learning of Yuta's background, and sends Inumaki and Panda back to the school to protect Yuta and Maki during the night of Geto's attack. Geto overpowers them all, leaving only Yuta conscious. Enraged at seeing his friends hurt, Yuta promises himself as a sacrifice to Rika in order to strengthen their bond. As a result, Geto is severely wounded. He is found by Gojo, who after reflecting on their past friendship, executes him.

.

.

.

.

[name] stood quietly at the edge of the room, her gaze resting on Gojo’s sleeping form. The soft rise and fall of his chest was the only proof he was still here—still breathing, still fighting. But earlier… she’d seen his face after the fighting. The way his expression cracked when he thought no one was looking. The way his hands trembled before he shoved them deep into his pockets.

Her eyes drifted to the blindfold resting against his forehead, slightly askew. With a small breath, she stepped closer, fingers twitching nervously as she reached for it. She gently lifted it from his eyes, careful not to wake him, and replaced it with her own glasses, pressing them onto his face with a little huff.

she slipped the blindfold over her own eyes.

“Gosh, how does he see with this thing?” she muttered to herself with a crooked smile. “I’m literally blind right now.”

She took a step—and promptly bumped into the wall with a soft thud.

“Ow…” she mumbled, rubbing her arm.

Laughter—low and breathy—broke the silence behind her.

She whipped around, the blindfold slipping halfway off her face. Gojo was awake. Sitting up. Watching her.

And smiling.

His eyes—those eyes—were soft and bright like sunlight scattered across an endless ocean. Their glow lit something warm and dizzying inside her chest.

“H-HUH?! THIS IS A DREAM!” [name] blurted, panicking, leaping into the weirdest stance she could think of on the spot.

“Oh wow, I’m terrified,” he teased, clapping dramatically. “Is that… the ancient Fighting Crane meets Confused Flamingo technique? Legendary.”

[name] tried to hold the pose, struggling to stay serious. “Silence! I am the blindfolded warrior, guardian of the living room!” she declared, wobbling slightly to the left.

“Well then, oh mighty warrior,” he said with a mischievous glint in his bright blue eyes, “I challenge you to a duel. But only if you can pass… the tickle trial.”

“Huh? Wait no—NO!” she shrieked as Gojo lunged, grabbing her sides with the lightest poke.

She burst into uncontrollable giggles, twisting away and finally pulling off the blindfold in a fit of laughter.

“You blue eye bastard!” she panted, catching her breath.

He sat up, smiling softly now. “Yeah, I tend to break the rules. Especially for a smile like that.”

For a moment, there was silence—the good kind. Then his voice turned gentler.

“Hey, [name]… could you take that bandage off?”

She blinked, confused. “Oh. Sure—but I kinda can’t see too good with that eye,” she murmured, fingertips brushing the edge of the gauze as she slowly peeled it away.

Her partially blind eye met his, and he stared.

“I was right,” he whispered, stepping forward with small, steady steps.

“What?” she asked, her voice a whisper.

She felt it, then. The heat of tears soaking through her shirt. His shoulders trembled against her. The strongest man she knew was quietly falling apart in her arms

“You’re my daughter.”

She froze in his embrace. And then slowly, carefully, wrapped her arms around him, like maybe, just maybe—someone loves her.

A/N || sorry for the wait but here’s the chapter!!! And boom here’s the big plot twist!!! btw name won’t have six eyes or anything, just related to gojo!! SO YES GOJO IS OUR PAPI TOO GUYS 😜 (ALSO ANOTHER AUTHOR I LOVE LIKED MY SERIES AHHHHH!!!!! TYYYYYYY ILYSM (I follow you😝)

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[ladylaviniya]

AUGUST SAID “panties off” AND I SAID “how fast, Sir” LIKE?????? he really just said “you’ve lost the privilege of my name” and now i’m like OKAY SORRY MY BAD 😭✋ i didn't mean to breathe wrong pls don't punish me too good 😩💦

and THEN… this man had the AUDACITY… to roll up his sleeves like a sexy evil librarian on a warpath and i swear to god i had to go LIE DOWN

LIKE BABE DO YOU EVEN KNOW WHAT THOSE FOREARMS DO TO ME??? no you don’t. AND IT’S ILLEGAL ANYWAY. SEND HIM TO JAIL. or actually don’t. SEND HIM TO MY BEDROOM WITH THE FLOGGER TYVM 😩💖

AND THEN HE SAID

“crawl.” AND I JUST CRAWLED. like a little enchanted slug in love. AND THE PLUG. THE PLUGGGG 😭😭😭

THE WAY I SCREAMED when he turned on the vibe like bffr??? sir that was a CRIME AGAINST MY SANITY. i am just a girl with a vibrating plug and a dream.

also can we TALK about how he said

“if you cum before permission there will be hell to pay” like i'm sorry i didn’t know this was a SURVIVAL QUEST now, sir 😭 do you want me to PASS AWAY because same!!! same bestie i’ll just levitate off this plush carpet into the abyss!!!

AND THE BED SCENE???????

HE’S JUST SITTING THERE LIKE SOME KING ON A THRONE WHILE I WADDLE OVER ON TREMBLING LEGS 😭 and me? silly little babygirl me?? too busy being a menace all day to see the FLOGGING COMING. i shoulda known. i shoulda shut my bratty mouth. but no. i HAD to tease. and now????

now he’s got me ass-up, spread wide like a ✨sinner on display✨ getting a spanking that echoes into the spiritual realm 😭💀

“would you like your wrists cuffed as well?” SIR. SIRRRR. WHY ARE YOU BEING SO NICE WHILE BEING SO MEAN the duality has me WEAK. like yes pls cuff me like a lil doll and kiss my ankles like a romantic serial killer 😩💗

and the way i just say

“yes, Sir” over and over like a good girl 😭🧎‍♀️

like… yes sir, thank you sir, may i have another sir, pls destroy my soul and rearrange my organs in the name of love, sir 😭🙏

what the actual fERAL *FLOGGED-TO-HEAVEN LITEROTICA EXPERIENCE DID I JUST HAVE 😭😭😭😭😭

no bc like—i started reading all casual like “teehee let’s see what’s happening in daddy’s dungeon today” and now i’m sitting here sweaty. stunned. sore by proxy. and in love. 💀💀💀

when i tell you the WHIPLASH from:

“Thwap! Ten!”

to

“All you wanted was attention, am I right?”

LIKE OKAY DAD 😭👏 my heart?? my coochie??? my soul??? all trembled. not a single part of me left unshaken. not ONE.

the way the impact was described??? the sting, the THUD, the “one of the tendrils fell between your spread legs”??? HELLO THAT’S A TARGETED ATTACK AGAINST MY SANITY 😩

and then. AND THEN. the plug. THE PLUG???!! vibrating like a little gremlin inside you while your cheeks are being tenderized like wagyu beef??

AUGUST YOU ARE GOING TO JAIL FOR BEING TOO GOOD AT THIS 😭

also can we talk about the panties-in-the-mouth moment. bc UMMM EXCUSE ME that hit every single “yes i am feral” switch in my brain and now i have to pretend to be normal for the rest of the day and i simply CANNOT.

and the lil hand signal system?? soft dom safety king 😭🫶 like yes please break me but respectfully

but THEN YOU HIT US WITH:

“The heat, the warmth, the tightness.”

girl... girl. that’s not a sentence, that’s a RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE. i was about to say amen and pass out on the church steps like 😇🕊️

and THEN the man starts fucking like a machine possessed??? and he's praising you while doing it??? animalistic hips but romantic words??? that’s my ✨DREAM HALLUCINATION✨ right there.

i genuinely had to pause when you said:

“thank your lucky stars that this is what happens after you accept your fate.”

like omgggg i’m gonna start praying for a fate worth accepting if it means THIS. 🧎‍♀️🙏💒

NOW. LET’S TALK ABOUT THE ANAL.

no warning. no time to prepare. you’re just FWOOMP plug is gone, cock is in, and I AM NOT OKAY 🧍‍♀️

and the worst part?? IT’S SO GENTLY RUDE like he’s praising you while STRETCHING YOU OUT WITH ZERO MERCY???? i had to throw my phone. i had to go lie down. i had to clutch my emotional support plushie and just moan softly into the abyss.

and then that whole “you're mine, now come again” vibe???? while being wrapped up like a little plush toy getting wrung out by a monster dom with a soft heart????

I WAS UNWELL. I AM UNWELL. I WILL REMAIN UNWELL.

and just when you think it’s over and he’s gonna go back to ignoring you like a classic man???

“You were just busy being ignored, Sir.”

THE MIC. HAS BEEN DROPPED. the bratty little dig?? the quiet devastation??? the girl math logic that led you straight to getting destroyed in bed as your love language??? iconic. powerful. queen shit. 👑✨

and AUGUST??? HUMBLED. SPEECHLESS. TURNING THE CAR AROUND AND TAKING YOU ON A ROMANTIC GETAWAY BC HE KNOWS YOU DESERVE BETTER??? yeah that’s my man now. SORRY.

Treat Me Like A Slut

Title: Treat Me Like A Slut

Rating: Explicit, 18+, Minors - DNI

Pairing: August Walker x Reader

Fandom: Mission: Impossible - Fallout

Word Count: 2K

Summary: August has had enough of your antics, and you’re going to pay for it.

Warnings: m!Dom/f!sub, Dom!August, sub!reader, bondage, flogging, gagging with panties, butt plug, unprotected vaginal sex, unprotected anal sex, creampie

A/N: I wrote this because I needed to get it out of my head. August Walker needs to start paying rent in my head. Unbeta’d, we die like people who tried their best. 

Dividers by: @firefly-graphics

Support/Reblog banner by me

Cover Art by Me

My Masterlist 

“August, please–” You tried to plead with your Dom but he cut you off so fast that it made your head spin.

“You’ve lost your privileges to use my name, Angel. Now, as I was saying, panties off and give them to me.” He reached out his hand expectantly.

You rose from your chair and reached under your dress until you hook your fingers along the waistband of your thong. Pulling it down slowly, you maintain eye contact with August. You step out of it and put them in his waiting hand. Putting the underwear in his pocket, he nods.

“Kneel.” He commands, unbuttoning the cuffs of his deep purple dress shirt and then rolling them up to reveal his hairy, vein-streaked forearms.

“Yes, Sir.” You reply and lower to your knees, knowing that you can’t talk your way out of this one.

“I think it’s time to remind you who’s in charge here, Angel. You seem to have forgotten.” 

“I’m sorry, Sir.” You keep your eyes lowered to the unforgiving wooden floor beneath you.

“I wish I could believe you. Follow me, Angel,” You start to rise before August stops you, “No. You’re to crawl behind me. And one more thing,” He leans down and pushes the button on the bottom of the plug currently nestled inside you.

When it comes to life, you let out a strangled moan. You had been wearing the new plug for hours and weren’t aware of the vibration feature. Starting to squirm, you open your mouth to plead with August.

“Before you even start, this was your doing, wasn’t it? Bothering me while I worked earlier today. And then doing so again not a handful of hours later. It’s almost as if you like being punished, Angel,” He smirks down at you, knowing the last bit to be true, “Hands and knees, follow me.”

Leaving his office, you move as fast as you can behind him. With every movement, you can feel the vibrations against your hole. You try and hide your arousal but your frail resolve betrays you. You let out a groan and are surprised to bump into the solid wall that is August’s leg.

He sighs deeply but doesn’t turn around as he addresses you, “If you cum before you’ve been given permission, there will be hell to pay. Am I understood?”

“Yes, Sir.” You force the words out as you struggle to steady your breathing.

When August starts to walk again, you follow him. In your bedroom, happy to be on plush carpeting, you feel yourself begin to relax. Too soon, you find. 

August sits on one side of the four-poster bed you share and beckons you with one finger. You stand on wobbly legs and he pulls you forward and over his lap. You could have figured this is where this day was going to go, but you were too busy being a brat to think of the consequences.

Pulling your dress up over your ass, he massages the flesh of your globes. “You’re going to count these out, Angel. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Sir.” You answer and feel August reach over you to the nightstand drawer. You know what’s in that drawer and you stiffen in his lap.

“Oh, now you see the repercussion, huh? If you didn’t want the flogger, you shouldn’t have misbehaved.” He allows you to hold onto his pant leg as he pulls out the aforementioned tool.

He lets the leather tendrils ghost over the skin of your calves and thighs. Raising the flogger above his shoulder, he delivers the first blow.

“One.”

“Hm. This angle…I don’t like it. Up, Angel,” He walks around to the other side of the bed and has you lay down on your stomach in the center of the bed, “Just like that. Now, you are going to keep your legs open for me. If you can’t do that, I can restrain your ankles to the bed just as easily.”

You turn your head behind you and see that the cuffs are already attached to the foot of the bed and your eyebrows raise.

“Angel, if you want to be cuffed, just say so.” He smiles down at you, relishing your excitement.

“Sir, I would like to be restrained.”

“Good girl. I’m proud of you. Would you like your wrists cuffed as well or just the ankles?”

“Wrists and ankles please, Sir.”

“My sweet Angel, as you wish.” He goes about locking both ankles into the heavy cuffs, planting a gentle kiss just above where the leather sits against your skin. Moving to the head of the bed, he locks your wrists into the restraints as well.

You test your mobility and you get a thrill out of the thought of giving complete control to August. You look at him and nod that you are ready to begin. 

“You’re going to count to ten, Angel. Is that clear?”

“Yes, Sir.”

As he begins his assault on your ass, you count aloud. Every thunderclap is harder and louder than the last. More than once, one of the tendrils falls between your spread legs and slaps against the plug or your netherlips.

Thwap! “Ten!”

August grunts and throws the flogger on the bed. He walks to the end of the bed and surveys his handiwork as he begins to undress. He can see where there will be bruising tomorrow, he’ll remember to go easy on you later. He grins when you wriggle your hips, showing off your still-vibrating plug and leaking cunt. 

Taking your panties out of his pocket before taking his pants off, he walks to the head of the bed where you turn to look at him.

“What color, Angel?”

“Green, Sir.” You smile lazily.

“Good. Open your mouth,” You open your mouth and he stuffs your underwear inside, “Now that you’re gagged, we’re gonna use fingers. Thumb out means good, your first finger means to slow down, and your middle finger means stop. Okay?”

You extend both thumbs and smile around your panties. He caresses your cheek and crawls on the bed, kneeling behind your ass and stroking his thick, hard cock. Reaching over you, he steals a pillow and props your hips up to give him easier access.

Using a finger, he collects some of your pussy juice and swirls it around your clit. You didn’t expect him to use the other hand to scratch down one abused cheek. When that wrangles a moan out of you, he licks and lays kisses upon both cheeks. He peppers in some nibbles on a few sensitive spots on your hips as well.

With you savoring the attention on your bottom, you weren’t expecting for August to enter you in the next breath. The heat, the warmth, the tightness. They welcome him in and elicit a hiss from both of you. 

Pulling out slowly and then slamming back in rocks the bed and it feels amazing. August puts one hand on the back of your neck and one on your hip. Starting his rhythm again, he crashes his hips against yours in an almost animalistic pattern. Rutting into you, he praises you for being such a good girl for him.

Writhing beneath him, you’re forced to take every thrust he dishes out. Feeling him so deep inside you at this angle, you thank your lucky stars that this is what happens after you accept your fate. You get to have this god of a man pounding out your insides in the middle of the day.

You were too in your head to notice when August turns up the vibration on the butt plug. The muffled wail that comes out of your mouth is music to his ears and you feel him twitch inside you, but he doesn’t stop.

No, he’s not going to cum before you do. 

“Don’t hold back, Angel. Come for me. Come all over my cock.” He breathes, the hand on the back of your neck is now moving around to the front as he applies slight pressure to the sides.

Your legs start to shake and you can feel the telltale signs of your impending orgasm. The hand that was at your hip now reaches up to remove the thong from your mouth just in time for you to release a heavenly howl that reverberates through the both of you.

Before you come down from your euphoric high, you feel the plug being removed from your ass. It’s being replaced with the blunt tip of August’s cock and you love the sensation of being stretched around him as he sinks in.

“Fuck, Angel. You’re like a fucking vice, so good for me.” He loves the moments like this where you’re all fucked out. Your semi-lifeless body underneath him is just for his pleasure at this point.

What neither of you expected was for your breathing to pick up in a manner that could only mean one thing. You could feel the knot inside you tightening again. Before you even try and ask, you’re commanded.

“Come for me, Angel.” He’s wrapping an arm around your neck and the other around your upper torso as you let go. 

You can feel your pussy clenching around nothing and your asshole gripping his dick so much so that he has to pause in fucking you.

But, he doesn’t mind it for long as you feel him engorged and pulsing inside you within seconds. He rests his head against yours for a beat while he comes down. As he begins to soften, you can feel him slip out of you followed by some of his spend. 

He lays a kiss on your shoulder before unwrapping himself from around you. He trails kisses down your back, stopping just before your plump rear. He uses both hands to open your ass and watch as his jizz drips down your ass and pussy lips.

He releases you from the cuffs, rubbing the space where they sat upon your skin. He retrieves a wet washcloth from the en suite bathroom and wipes you down before laying in bed next to you and pulling you close.

He smiles down at you as you tangle your fingers in his chest hair.

“All you wanted was attention, am I right?” He asks, his hand tracing patterns on one hip.

“Yes, but–”

“But, you thought you could interrupt me and not be punished for it.”

You hide your face in his shoulder and try and end the conversation. He grabs you by the chin and makes you look at him.

“Sounds like this won’t be the last time that you interrupt me for attention. Do I even get a ‘sorry’ for the time you took me away from my work?”

“I’m sorry, Sir.” 

When August deems your apology to be sincere, he places a chaste kiss on your lips. When you furrow your brows and whine, he rolls his eyes before leaning back in to claim your mouth. Not wanting to rile you up again, he lets go of your chin and lays back down.

“Ya know, I spoil you, Angel.” He winks at you as you nod exuberantly.

“I know, Sir. And thank you.”

“Now, where was this polite girl an hour ago?” He raises an eyebrow and shoots a look at you.

“Busy being ignored, Sir.”

He opens his mouth for a retort, but he doesn’t have one. 

“Valid point,” He laughs inwardly, one arm going behind his head, “Can you forgive me, Angel?”

Leaning up on one arm and donning a serious face, you answer him, “I think I can be persuaded to forgive you.”

“That serious, huh?”

You nod gravely, “I think it might cost you, Sir.”

“Ah, and what might that be?”

“A weekend away. Just you and me, please?” Your eyes couldn’t get any more adorable than they were at that point.

He chuckles and shakes his head, “I think I can arrange that.”

“Thank you, August,” You say, kissing his cheek, “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” He rubs soothing circles on your hip until your breathing even out and you both take a much-deserved nap.

A/N: I got the title from the Kim Petras song, Treat Me Like A Slut. That song never fails to make me think of August and I had to write out my thots.

**Tag List**

@brattymum96 @ambinxe @avengersfan25 @kebabgirl67

@astheskycries @enchantedbytomandhenry

@rebelangel1102 @mrs-solo-walker

Let me know if you wanna be added (or removed) 😁

[dissolved-g1rl]

kiss kiss fall in love! જ⁀➴ ♡

Bokuto really doesn’t understand why you get so flustered around him. Whenever he compliments you, you start sputtering and tripping over yourself. Or when he invited you to his game and you looked like you were two seconds away from crying. He’s seen you talk to other guys just fine, without the frazzled expression and jerky movements, maybe Akaashi is right, maybe he should lay off or something. The thought of not talking to you makes him sad, you’re so cute, and when you’re at ease you make him laugh, he’s wooed. Bokuto finds himself thinking about you at practice, when he works out, or when he’s feeling particularly alone on certain nights…. It’s often you’re wreaking havoc in his already hyper brain.

“Hey! Thanks for coming, I always play better with you around you know.” Bokuto rushes to you after his game, he’s dripping with sweat, his jersey sticks to his muscles, emphasizing his muscular physique. “Uh…yeah I got off work a little early so I figured it’d be okay…” You look away, handing him a small towel so that he can wipe his face at least, he has enough admirers already. “Thanks!” His fingers brush against yours, wiping his face and neck, looping the towel around his neck. “You need a ride home?” He asks, using his bottle to squirt water into his mouth, some drips out to his chin into his goatee, he wipes it away. “Um..you’re probably tired after all that…I can just call a cab or something.” You don’t think you can handle a whole care ride home with him. “Don’t be silly! It’s dark out! Plus what if your driver’s a creep? I’m fine.” He waves his hand “Okay…If it’s not too much trouble.” He smiles happily at your agreement “I’m gonna rinse off in the locker room, i’ll be quick promise!”

Bokuto has a extra pep in his step when he leaves the bleachers, his teammates give him funny looks. You watch as everyone else seems to trickle out of the gymnasium, you look at your shoes, nice high heels and don’t squeeze your toes so much. The two of you had gone to high school together, you didn’t think he’d noticed you, but then all of a sudden you started getting dms from him on social media, invites to his games. It had been nice to reconnect…Bokuto has always been nice you suppose. Never shoved your books out of your hands, never asked you on fake dates, never dumped water on you or stomped on your glasses. But he’s still a jock, you don’t know his intentions, you tell yourself that it’s better to exercise caution.

All those careful thoughts shoot our your brain like a stray breeze does to a stack of papers when he waltzes out wearing sweatpants and a dark compression shirt. Duffle bag slug over his shoulder, his hair is flat from his rinse. “Ready?” Bokuto smiles at you sweetly, spinning his car keys on his pointer finger, you nod, mindlessly following him to the lot. “Congrats on the win by the way..you played really well!” Your heels thud against the asphalt, he likes the steady click-clack. “Thanks.” Bokuto says puffing his chest out with pride, he’s really is like a bird, he preens with praise.

You follow him out to his car, a terrible decision most women come to regret. You’re being stupid and you know it, following a guy to his car just cause he has a nice back and big biceps, if you end up on the news you figure no one would blame you too harshly. You bet he’d even have a nice mugshot. You’re panicking again, often times too in your own head. Everyone says so, when you get that far off look and fidget with your fingers. Your brought back to reality when he gets his passenger side door for you, right, he’s a nice guy, maybe you should look into medication. “Thanks.” You say sheepish for reasons he doesn’t understand, “No problem!” He chirps anyways, he’s remembers seeing you eating alone with a distant expression back in high school, seems like it’s still prevalent even after all these years. He still finds it terribly endearing.

Bokuto lets you pick the music for the ride home, he doesn’t know if you realize you hum, he doesn’t tell you in fear of you stopping. “You have a nice place.” He hums appreciatively when he pulls up outside your home, “Thanks…my agency comps me with it.” You murmur, nervously fiddling with your fingers in his lap. “Wow! You must really be a big shot, like in that Christian Bale movie, ever seen it?” he puts his car in park, giving you his full attention, you are the complete opposite, instead of preening, you wilt. “Umm yeah, maybe a few years ago, it was nice.” You say with a sheepish laugh, butterflies erupt in his stomach. Has it really been that long that your awkwardness, of all things, is what gets him going these days? Probably. “Can I walk you to your door?” He blurts out, his cheeks reddish, it must be the light, no way someone like you could get Bokuto flustered…right… “Um sure!” You say just as graceless.

He’s coming around the car to your door, you push it open when he pulls, causing him to stumble, he regains his balance quickly. You both delve into apologies and then laugh. He offers you his hand, hoping he doesn’t see you wipe your sweaty palm dry, you accept. He steadies you so you don’t trip, it feels terribly romantic. “So ummm—hah i’m usually not so nervous.” He murmurs when you reach your welcome mat. “You think..I could take you out sometime? I always really liked you, I promised myself if I won tonight I wouldn’t wuss out on asking you.” He says in one big breath, hand squeezing yours, he’s looking at you with wide golden eyes and and mouth slightly parted. You feel shocked, he likes you? No way… You glance around, expecting someone to pop out of your bushes and take a picture at your stupid expression. “Uhh..are you expecting someone?” Bokuto looks where you are, getting confused. “What? Oh no! I mean Yes! I mean…no im not expecting anyone…yes to um..going out.” He smiles brightly at you, “Great!, I’ll pick you up! Akaashi told me about this really great restaurant i’ve been meaning to try.” He sounds relieved and you duck your chin to avoid his eagerness. “That sounds nice…” You murmur lightly digging your heel into the concrete, you look up and smile at him from underneath your eyelashes. Bokuto feels like all the air is sucked out of his body, he feels like a worm, he doesn’t deserve someones as gorgeous as you. Worst of all he doesn’t even think you realize it. How hot you set his skin, or how nervous you make him feel. “Good…” He was silent for too long, he forgot to speak and it earns him a small laugh.

“Umm Bokuto…” Your voice makes him hum in acknowledgement, he’s shocked when he feels you steal a kiss. A light peck on his mouth that goes as fast as it comes. “Goodnight!” You squeak, hurriedly heading inside, the door slams on his face before he can question what the hell just happened. He heads off with a dopey expression, heart beating out of his chest. God what a good night, he’s got a date with you, won his game, and he got a kiss. God, he thinks he’s in love.

dividers by @hyuneskkami

a/n: surgery went well! (thank you for the kind comments) im in recovery and felt good enough to write (i got bored hahah) so working on some requests later today! but for now enjoy cool guy athlete bokuto x ex classmate reader

[msmargaretmurry]

another anon but a futurefic for mattdrai👀can we know more about that

well since you both asked so nicely!! with two caveats: 1) no promises 😭 and 2) is entirely possible if i do end up writing this that you won't hear about it again for two years before i post it with no warning 😂 i don't control the whims of the muses.

THAT BEING SAID ever since i wrote haw, since that one is so matthew-centric, i've wanted to do a long feelingsy fic focused on leon too so this idea would probably be my vehicle for that! the basic concept would be like, 10-ish years in the future leon is still slugging it out in the nhl but knows retirement is not far off just due to his old man body starting to fail him and making it hard to play at the level he deems acceptable for himself, so he is deep in his feelings about his legacy and what he has and hasn't accomplished in his career and how little time he has left. meanwhile matthew has already retired and YET leon is somehow not free of him because he's a fucking talking head on leon's tv talking about leon's fucking hockey games, interviewing players, and generally doing what he does best: talking too fucking much. circumstances conspire to force them into each other's space at some opportune moments and things happen :)

[pippa-athalar]

The sun was shining in Boston, making it seem deceptively warm for a winter day. The beams reflected bright off the white snow that was slowly melting to slush on the ground. Pippa Althalar slugged through it, muttering to herself under her breath about how pointless it was for her to bother going to school anymore. How she’s learned more on the streets than behind the walls of the public school prison. Despite her reluctance to attend, Asa had hit her with a good argument that morning and the logic won out. If the truancy officer came sniffing around they’d be in far more trouble than her just skipping school. They’d be separated and she was only a few months away from turning eighteen. A few months to freedom.

Warring internally with herself, she walked and then there were horns blaring. A cacophony of honks and screams. Or one scream. Her scream. The pain of being slammed and then crushed by two tons of metal, tearing through her and ripping her vocal cords. Then there was heat. The warmth of her blood seeping from her body. Then darkness, a void. Nothingness. ---

The dream was always the same and whenever it haunted Pippa, she woke the same — screaming as she did all those years ago. Sweat glistened off her tanned skin and her throat felt raw as she sat up, panting and crying. She turned, bleary eyes scanning Bodhi’s side of the bed to find it empty only for the hotel room door to slam open. His hulking frame took up the entirety of the threshold as he hurried in, the ice chest in his hands dropping to the floor. Forgotten as he raced to the bed.

“Hey. Hey, I’m right here. You’re okay, you’re fine.” Bodhi promised, eyes scanning her for any signs of injury before they met her anguished gaze. He didn’t ask her what happened as he pulled her into his chest, stroking Pippa’s hair until she had calmed. He dropped a tender kiss to the top of her head when he pulled back, catching her eyes with his once more. “Do you want to talk about it?” Instinctively, Pippa shook her head. No. Of course she didn’t walk to talk about it. Reconsidering, she slowly began to nod. She didn’t want to talk about it but that’s not what Bodhi was asking. Not really. He wanted to know if she needed to talk about it and she did, she had just never trusted anyone enough to. Until now.

“I don’t sleep very well.” She admitted, worrying her bottom lip with her teeth as she dropped her gaze to watch herself pluck invisible strings from the sheet she was still half tangled in. Bodhi opened his mouth but she cut him off, already knowing what he was going to say. “I used to not sleep very well.” Pippa amended, a knowing smile hinting at the corner of her lips in spite of the story she was about to divulge. “I was 17 when I was in the same ICU as Asa for nearly half a year.” There was an angry rumble from Bodhi but he didn’t interrupt. He did, however, reach for her hands and interlocked their fingers. He squeezed, a reassurance that encouraged her to continue. “I was hit by a car on my way to school. The police called it an accident but accidents like that don’t happen to the Athalar’s. Things like that…they happen on purpose but I was young. Loyal to a brother who has only ever been loyal to himself, only ever cared about lining his pockets.” Pippa sighed, the tears from her dream had dried on her face though more welled behind her eyes. Refusing to let them fall, she kept going. “So, we never got the police involved. Never looked for what loan shark or bookie might have used me to get to him. When I was discharged and well enough…I left Boston. Didn’t talk to Asa for years and really still haven’t spoken to him. The first time I went back was when I got the call that he was at Massachusetts General - I think they should rename the wing after us.” The attempt at a joke fell flat between the couple. Bodhi’s grip has tightened on her hands enough to hurt but Pippa didn’t complain. He was anchoring her here, to this moment. Keeping her from spiraling into the ghosts of her past. All the pain, physical and emotional, and all the unanswered questions. “Sometimes I dream about it and well….” Her voice trailed off, Bodhi having witnessed the aftermath for himself. Silence echoed between them for a moment before Bodhi shifted. He dropped Pippa’s hands and eased her back into bed. He lay behind her, enveloping her in his strong embrace. He pressed a kiss to her temple before burying his face into her hair. “I’m sorry, Athalar.” Bodhi murmured, the soft timbre of his voice like a balm that soothed the ache in her chest. “You’re safe now and nothing is going to hurt you. No one is ever going to hurt you again.” For the first time in a long time, maybe ever, Pippa believed that to be the truth and those words carried her into a dreamless sleep.  

[cattofwatt]

Headcanon’s Part 10!

This one will be a little bit more random

Aubrey (sry I didn’t have a good picture for her as it’s pretty early in the update lifespan)

-I like to imagine the Visitor just happened to learn what a vending machine was just as soon as she saw it and this happen somehow

-she seems pretty nice. Way more calm about her situation than most would be.

-I imagine now post denial ending Sam checks on her often to restock and they have come up with a blinking code so she doesn’t need to only rely on the cans

Father Andrew

-he’s the good type of Christian as he has his faith but is not against any others

-he tries to be understanding as best as he can but don’t blame the man if he doesn’t do it perfectly as there is no malicious intent

-if he did become cursed I imagine it would become some kind of very gorey angel, like a imperfect exalted four

-when he blessed the apartment Spine was banished for about an hour but came back each time

Colonel

-acts like a sidekick to Ernest

-most loyal to Ernest

-is the king of rats in my eyes

Juicebox! Yes I know I included him before but that was before the update

-the green ooze has a drug effect when ingested

-the name juice box comes from the fact our two edgy teens have drank out of those fingers and it’s as awful as it sounds

Slug man?

-why does this guy know Sam. Who is he? Sam how many lovers do you need-

-seriously I would love to know who this guy was to Sam

Tickle

-is the type to act really kind but take so much

-very manipulative but is smart at least

-I imagine now he is just on that tick guy

Speaking of. Henri

-he loved all kinds of life and he thought that even ticks counted. And would feed them to keep them okay.

-he is being so exploited right now

-poor guy in this abusive poly relationship

Caterpillar

-Just thought I should’ve included him

-he’s related to the convenience store owner

Charlie

-now you may ask why I did not include Charlie in the last post. Well it’s two reasons. Because of the 10 photo limit. And because he’s not even a student. David doesn’t include Charlie at all.

-he was a regular crocodile in the sewer who turned into this and convinced itself it was one of the students

Hobb’s

-you know Gordon Ramsey? Yeah this is his cousin

-he hates maggots. (Ironic)

-no fucks given for what’s going on.

My next big post will not be a Headcanon’s one but it will be about a character who got a lot more this update

[still-breathing-au-p3r]

It’s honestly refreshing to have someone lay out all of Shinji’s good qualities. Akihiko had already known that Mitsuru gets it, that she understands Shinji, but god does it feel good to hear it said in true Mitsuru Kirijo style: elegantly stated and thoroughly cited.

For Mitsuru, specifically, to be the one presenting the evidence is also a good thing. If Akihiko had tried making the exact same points, he knows beyond a shadow of a doubt that Shinji would refuse on principle to accept a single word of it.

And maybe it’s also nice to see Shinji be the one getting flustered for once. He rarely ever shows that side of himself, even to Akihiko. It’s been that way since they were kids.

The whole conversation so far has only been round one, though, hasn’t it? They already have another challenge waiting for them.

“So, we’ve, ah–” Akihiko clears his throat. Slowly, Shinji thumbs the edge of his hat up to uncover one eye. He and Mitsuru both peer curiously at him, and Akihiko quails under their attention even though he’d literally just asked for it. “So with that all hashed out… What do we do now? I mean– Do we just– ah–”

His face feels scorched. Is this really so difficult or is he just that bad at it? He knows what he wants to say, so why can’t he actually say it? “Just– start, um–”

Shinji laughs, because he’s an asshole (and god, Akihiko really is beyond help, because the thought is tinged with as much fondness as it is irritation). As if Shinji has any room to talk anyway, when getting nice things said about him was all it took to make him run and hide behind his hat.

“Pretty sure the word you’re lookin’ for is ‘dating’, Aki.”

“I– Yes, thank you, Shinji. I was getting there.“

He’d been hoping that once the question had actually been asked out loud (mostly out loud), it would feel easier.

It does not feel any easier.

He’s out of his depth here. Despite his ‘fans’ and all of the interest they supposedly have in him, he’s never even been on a date before, let alone had any experience with dating as a continuous, ongoing state of being. Other people make this seem so easy– to hear some of his boxing teammates talk, they navigate this obstacle course more than once per school year. How?

Shinji laughs again. Akihiko is half tempted to punch him, but the closest shoulder is the bad one, so that’s not happening. Then the laugh trails off into something warmer, softer, maybe even a little shy, and that impulse to slug him fades away entirely.

“I mean. If you’re really serious, then– I’m not gonna say no,” Shinji says. The look on his face is complicated and hard to put a name to. Something between a soft smile and almost a grimace.

It’s relief, maybe. And if Shinji’s really been wanting this at least since they were fifteen (how on earth had Akihiko never noticed?), then– relief would make sense.

“Yeah, of course I’m serious,” Akihiko nods. “I wouldn’t have said anything if I wasn’t.”

They both turn to look at Mitsuru just in time to catch some kind of realization darken her gaze. Her summery smile wilts. Her mouth flattens into a tense line and she closes her eyes as though against pain– worse than pained, she looks guilty, somehow.

Something ices over in Akihiko’s stomach.

“Mitsuru?”

“I’m sorry, I…” Why would she think she needs to apologize to them? The chill slithers up into Akihiko’s chest and his heart spasms against it. “Nothing would make me happier, truly. But…”

Mitsuru trails off, as if searching for the correct words.

“But…?” Shinji urges quietly, leaning forward to prop his elbows against his knees. He’s using the same gentle cadence as he does with Yamagishi, and under nearly any other circumstance Akihiko would laugh about Shinji proving his and Mitsuru’s point so easily.

He’s never felt less like laughing. The sudden, careening nosedive the mood has taken leaves him nauseated.

“I’m afraid I may have gotten ahead of myself. I was so swept up in– in the excitement of it all, that I allowed a rather critical complication to slip my mind.”

Akihiko’s head bobs forward; it feels more like his body deciding to move on its own than him telling it to do so. Shinji nods too, prompting silently for Mitsuru to continue.

“Do you recall when I told you about– about my engagement?”

…Oh.

Akihiko does remember, now that she mentions it.

It had been during their first year, not long after the end of summer vacation. Mitsuru had come back to the dorms one afternoon after attending a business luncheon with her father, clearly off balance. By that time, he and Shinji both had become pretty adept at picking up when something was bothering her even when she made her best effort to hide it, and that day had been far from her best effort.

It had taken a lot of coercing (and a little bullying from Shinji) to finally get her to spill about what was wrong, but eventually she had confessed:

A match had been arranged for her with the scion of another powerful company, one of the Kirijo Group’s corporate allies. The luncheon had served as an introduction between her and her new fiancé.

Both he and Shinji had been aghast and incredulous about the whole thing, especially since by Akihiko’s recollection, this fiancé of Mitsuru’s is quite a bit older than her. Shinji’s view on the issue had been especially belligerent (Did he already have feelings for Mitsuru by that point? For Akihiko…?), but Mitsuru had eventually talked them into letting it drop. This kind of thing wasn’t unusual for families like hers, she’d said, and she had assured them again and again that she wasn’t upset, just caught off guard.

Shinji fidgets in his seat. He looks serious and somber rather than outraged like back then. “You ain’t married yet though, are you? Not for a while.”

“That was originally the case, but…” Mitsuru lowers her gaze. “The Kirijo Group is in a rather precarious position after my father’s passing, and it’s been decided that it would be in the company’s best interest to accelerate the timeline, somewhat. With regards to the– marriage.“

She bites the last word out like it tastes sour. Akihiko wants nothing more than to go over to her and hold her tightly, and to hell with manners, but he stays rooted in place. 

“Accelerated it–” He swallows nervously. “By how much?” 

“An exact date hasn’t been chosen as of yet, but the plan is for the wedding to take place soon after graduation. Within that same month, most likely.” 

Shinji and Akihiko share a look, equally shocked. That’s so soon. That’s too soon. Forget anything to do with the two of them, Mitsuru won’t even have had the chance to live like a proper adult yet…

Would she still get the chance to attend university? To study abroad like she’s always wanted? What would it mean for her role in S.E.E.S. if they still haven’t gotten rid of the Dark Hour by then?

“I’m sorry.” Mitsuru lowers herself into an apologetic bow over her hands clasped in her lap, rendering the both of them speechless. “I realize now how terribly selfish it was of me to  say all of this. I’m grateful that we had the chance to speak openly, but it was never my intent to– to bait you with the prospect of–”

Akihiko doubts she’s able to actually catch any of the individual words from his and Shinji’s overlapping protests, but she seems to get the gist at least. She sits up, looking mollified.

“Perhaps that was rather dramatic of me,” she murmurs, looking off to the side. “I suppose the truth is that– I feel as though I baited myself with the idea. I forgot myself, for a moment.”

Akihiko’s limbs finally seem ready to obey him again.

“Mitsuru, hey–” he says, reaching out one hand towards her. “Come over here, sit with us.”

For a moment she simply stares at him. Horror begins to creep up the back of his neck– that was way too forward, it had to be– but it’s quelled when she stands and crosses around the table. He and Shinji both shift a little to give her room to settle between them.

After a brief hesitation, Akihiko carefully (carefully) wraps an arm around her shoulders. To hell with manners, right? She’s trembling slightly, he realizes, but some of that tension drops away almost the instant he touches her.

Shinji seems to be having a hard time deciding what to do with himself (or maybe what he’s allowed to). Eventually he settles on lightly resting the back of his hand against her upper arm, which in Akihiko’s opinion is maybe one of the weirder, more awkward options he could have gone with. He’ll have to remind himself to laugh at Shinji later. Now’s not the time, though, because Mitsuru has started speaking again.

“I couldn’t be…faithful to you both. Any relationship with me would come with a predetermined expiration date. Neither of you deserve that, so, in that regard–” She takes a deep breath and squares her shoulders under Akihiko’s arm. “I think it would be for the best if the two of you just–”

“I don’t wanna hear you say we should just leave you out of it,” Shinji cuts her off, quietly but quick as lightning. Thank god, honestly, because Akihiko isn’t sure if he could have gotten his tongue to unstick from the roof of his mouth in time.

“Maybe whatever this is can’t be forever, sure. But if that’s your reason to stay out of this, then I shouldn’t be a part of it either.” Shinji continues. “After all, we still don’t know how long I’m even gonna be here.”

“Shinji–”

Akihiko speaks before he even has a chance to think about it, and Mitsuru does at the same moment, their voices overlapping.

”Aragaki…”

"I’m not goin’ anywhere if I've got any say in it.” Shinji makes a placating sort of gesture with the hand that’s not still touching Mitsuru’s arm. “I can promise that at least. I'm just sayin’ it still might not be up to me.”

That’s… that is true. As much as Akihiko hates that Shinji brought it up to begin with, he hates even more that Shinji is completely correct.

“But I know that neither of you’d ever let me even try that argument, so I’m not lettin’ you get away with it either, Kirijo.”

He really wasn’t expecting something like that from Shinji, and clearly Mitsuru wasn’t either. She looks stunned.

“He’s got a point, Mitsuru,” Akihiko urges, hope blooming in his chest again. “Maybe the future isn’t certain, but if that’s a reason for Shinji to go for it, then it can't be a reason for you not to. Right?”

Slowly, her gaze becomes chastened, then contemplative, and then–

Then she smiles again.

“Yes…” Closing her eyes, she tucks a curl of hair behind her ear. “Yes, you’re absolutely right. I– I can’t let this hold me back either. I won’t. I want to have this with you both, more than anything. Temporary or not.”

“Glad you’re listenin’ to sense.” Shinji’s clearly trying to sound nonchalant, but color has flushed back into his ears at Mitsuru’s proclamation. Honestly, hearing her say it so openly also has Akihiko’s head swimming with restless heat.

“But really…” Shinji trails off, then turns his attention to Akihiko. Akihiko blinks back in confusion. “You’re the only one out of us without something hangin’ over your head about this. We oughta be asking you if you’re sure you’re okay with that more than anything.”

Akihiko remains silent for a moment while he mulls over Shinji’s words. He’s really not used to being the somewhat ‘normal’ one in any group, even one as weird as his circle of friends. It seems insane to him– the fact that he doesn’t have any kind of illness or arranged marriage looming threateningly over his shoulder somehow increases the pressure on his decision.

But even knowing that there’s a time limit on this– this relationship, Akihiko feels more and more confident by the moment about what the right thing to do is.

They all want this, after all. They all know how it feels to nearly lose something vital because uncertainty made them hesitate.

But how does he say any of that?

How did they do it, seriously? If they’re experiencing anything even close to the absolute maelstrom that’s got Akihiko’s brain spinning in his skull, how did they ever manage to make something coherent out of it? He feels like he’s taking a test he hasn’t even tried studying for.

Akihiko takes a deep breath, leans forward on his knees, and lets the words come spilling out. 

“...I'm– I've been stuck, for a long time, in this loop thinking 'if I had only done more' or 'if I had only worked harder' or 'if I'd only been better', then maybe I wouldn't have lost someone that mattered to me. 

“But I've been getting a lot of second chances lately. I think I'd have to be an idiot to turn away from one of those chances because I'm afraid of what might go wrong, when I was…when I was lucky enough to get it at all."

He’s not sure where all that came from, but he hopes at least that he got his point across.“Akihiko…” Mitsuru murmurs. He lets his eyes dart up to meet hers only briefly. The expression on her face, and on Shinji’s for that matter, is too– just too much (hopeful, wounded, soothed, touched, warm...) for him to look at for longer than a moment.

[villiedoom]

I want to write this as an additional post, just to share some more personal stuff ~

It's no secret that I've been obsessed with Rain World lately - in my personal notes I already wrote a lot of my impressions and thoughts about Rain World and why I fell in love with this game, but most of all, this game just clicked with me in some very personal and unique way, which I struggle to explain. It gives me something very important, something I lack and miss so much, but the only thing that comes to my mind is Experience. The very ability to experience, which was taken away from me by my very own survival mechanisms long-long ago. And so, just an unusual game with sometimes annoying gameplay and an interesting philosophy and lore, accidentally became a strange form of therapy for me, revealing what I was missing by allowing me to experience it.

Touching the grass, going in nature, hanging out with friends, and even just living life, don't work if you can't experience them. I don't remember what experiencing something even feels like, and even my art, my characters, Koties, often feel more like a battlefield full of deaths and overcoming than a safe place of escapism. And the "just touch the grass and take a rest" mindset only made things worse, shaming for not being able to actually do this.

And Rain World finally gave me the Experience, as honest and pure as it is. My survival became the survival of a little slugcat in a world where even just climbing up a pipe can seem like an insurmountable challenge. In a world where so little depends on you, and every step can turn into death simply by accident, and not because you did something wrong. Feels scarily relatable. Usually people are afraid to see the world as random, absurdly unfair, and so they seek control by blaming others or themselves, or just some rest from it (like, in videogames). But I'm not able to, so the feeling of unfair world just as it is has somehow become healing for me, motivating me to learn and move forward in a much healthier way, with no shame of living in it.

And over time, it started to feel better. Starting out as a helpless and clumsy slug, I became someone who seeks adventure and goes to the most hardcore locations simply because I want to explore them, to find some more hidden colored pearls, and to share some of the existential wonder and despair with the local gods and ghosts. This became my own small journey and experience, and I felt and expressed it with all my emotion. To go through all this and break the cycle. I love this game, I love its story and characters, I love its gameplay. I want to save this moment in my memory.

Of course, all this is just my personal interpretation and projection, we all see the world through these even when we try to be objective, but that's the point. Rain World feels like that rare thing that allowed me to go through it and experience it very personally, feeling my reality as valid, regardless of other people's interpretations, their lore discussions and disputes about what is the true canon. Honestly, I don't care. I just allowed this little game to feel like my thing, and I don't even feel wrong or ashamed about it. I missed feeling like that.

I'm not special, and this game wasn't made by or for me, but that's just another story of the unknowing recipient and the reluctant gift.

There is no solution, only a personal yet random path to walk on.

The world is unfair, cruel and random. You will get lost, suffer and die over and over again, giving up and continuing to try and move, sometimes succeeding, sometimes drowning in despair, seeing shelter right before your eyes but failing to reach it. Your greatest happiness is to find some food and a safe place to rest…

There is nothing miserable about it, even if sometimes you feel so. This is natural. Everyone feels that way. The joy of success in survival. The pain of another unfair fall.

But the more successful you are, the further you can go. Including places where no one goes.

A random gift from a random god, and you are no longer an animal, you are something… different.

The one who seeks. The one who asks. The one who listens.

You woke up as accidentally as you were accidentally killed so many times. But now, your cycle has turned into a path, in which you are all alone. No one can hear or understand you, because you heard and understood something that perhaps you were not even made to understand.

You have been used by one and blindly guided by other, and now you are conscious on your path, without even knowing where it leads. You have received your sight while remaining blind. Even the gods are blind.

And…

You found what you were looking for when you stopped looking for it. You will never return to the cycle again. …was it right?

****

Some quick and sketchy Rain World fanart, along with some of my impression/interpretation of it (Survivor's story in particular) ~

[necrofuturism]

🌊 blue sea buddies 🌊

felted blue ringed octopus for my brother and blue dragon nudibranch/sea slug for my sister in law 💙

[treef-greef]

reunion or something

[mothhue]

Some AHUW badges! :D

AHUW masterpost

[chiropteracupola]

don't you laugh as the hearse goes by / for you may be the next to die...

a little danse macabre with a few depictions of the dead from three different manuscripts of guillaume de diguilleville's pèlerinage de vie humaine

[dalvs-wife]

scene from a very old fic i wrote

[evilkitten3]

naruto crack au where kakashi manages to successfully drill the "never abandon your comrades" thing into team seven's heads

so when sasuke deserts naruto and sakura immediately desert with him. like he gets to the village gates and they're just waiting for him bags packed like "what took u so long we doing this or what"

he tries to get them to go back bc of course he does. "no you losers this is about me i'm going to kill my brother. also i'll have to kill my best friend for the super sharingan and you two are like the only people i talk to". but they do not listen. teamwork sasuke we will defeat your brother (OUR brother #communism) with the power of teamwork. just like kakashi-sensei said

suddenly orochimaru has to deal with three horrible little goblins with an even more codependent relationship than his old team

[39oa]

silly procrastination doodles i colored on the plane with my brightness turned all the way down 😔

[olivewormz]

ELLO!!!! GUESS WHO REDID HIS METAL SLUG DESIGNS!!!! i guess you could call it that uuhm

but YEA!! i've been thinking a lot about metal slug lately and i just... couldnt resist redrawing my versions, hopefully i do more in the future for more characters n all, i really want to post more metal slug stuff, i love LOVE these silly guys

im not writing anything at the moment cause i really didnt change my headcanons and im kind of tired to write proper paragraphs (i should stop staying up until 3 am to finish drawings? maybe).