#fuck disconnection/disconnect/disconnecting

[0ne-eyed-ghost]

HI uhhmmm hi :grin: n0.2 of the jashlings..... The mr Mind himself...... I gave him his own silly font isn't it wonderful These were completed so back to back what obsession even is this ANYWAY Soul will have to be in a bit he's still being concepted !!!! For now enjoy this loser........ /aff Loud thank you to my friends who helped me decide colors this took so many different re-tries on coloring????? Gold's hard to work with!!! I strongly associate Mind with lightning and storms from his songs alone, his voice is so gravelly and deep like thunder on the horizon... <3 He's a littttle bit more complex than my Heart ? Mostly due to like . His wish to be strong and a pillar for the group even if he's not all that. Main note being covering himself up to hide any of the vulnerabilities, Even those of which are just slight tremors in his hands and tucking in the extra wiring :] There's a little mechanism I made up for his masks specifically!!! The sun that hovers above his crown can sink down into it, connecting with a solid 'click' sound and disconnects whatever mask he had attached at that moment! Masks are supposed to resemble whatever 'emotion' he's trying to 'express' :] Similar to tragedy and comedy masks, but add an extra for aggression or anger something like that - Uhh Lastly he's got a couple different extra eyes for extra sight abilities ? Such as night vision, ultraviolet, and thermal ! All to come to deductions sooner or to calculate the variables on what could fuck stuff up :boom: would not want to be the other two at night walkin' around and just see bright blue eyes in the corner [teeth included] that'd be an experience

[cuntinies]

Take it off

summary: fwb!sub!abby x reader

warnings: fwb! abby, mentions of marijuana usage, sub! abby, teasing, nipple play, cunnilingus, making out, fingering, needy abby because it's my favorite. proof read-ish. lmk if i missed anything

Fall time was the best time. The stuffy, clammy summer air is gone, and the brisk fall air enters your lungs. The sound of the crunchy leaves under your feet, warm drinks, and smoke seshes in your nice, warm home. You love it. 

But.. it also means cuffing season, and you weren't getting any of that because Abby decided to stop seeing you. You know you are not supposed to get attached while being friends with benefits, but fucking hell, it was Abby for crying out loud. It was normal for Abby to ghost you for 2-3 days, but a whole week? The beginning of the season has been shit for you.

You set up your nightly, ritually smoke sesh in your room. Sitting down on your cozy floor table, convenient for times like these, you start preparing your spread. Rolling papers that left a lingering taste of strawberries, the grinder that you decorated with stickers, your lucky lighter that is always with you, and finally, your precious herb that was in a small glass jar. You put on your favorite show and start getting comfortable until you hear Abby’s signature two knocks. You feel your heart drop literally to your ass. You wait for about 2 minutes until you listen to it again.

Knock, knock.

“Are you fucking kidding me..” you mutter, pushing the table as you stretch your legs. Grabbing the first item of clothing in your hamper, you slip on a hoodie and quickly walk to the door. Opening the door where you meet a deliciously looking blonde-haired girl. Hair out of her braid and shorts that accentuate the muscles on her thighs. She looks too good, and she knows it.

“What do you need?” you said, not even a hello and not even opening the door all the way. Abby puts her arm in the doorway.

“Aw, did you miss me?” she asks, using her body weight to push the door open, pushing you with it. She lets herself inside, already looking around your living room.

“C’mon, Abby. What do you need? You want to call us off for a week and show up at my house without letting me know?” You say as you close the door, following her into your living room. You instantly regret letting this woman back into your home again. The smell of her pine body wash, the sandalwood perfume she wore, and the warmth she emitted from her was enough to open your arms(or your legs) to her again.

“The thing is..” Abby starts, but as she sits on the couch, a sly smirk creeps on her face. You bite your bottom lip, aware of the effect Abby has on you, so if she smiles, you can’t help but smile.

“Take it off,” Abby says, making herself comfortable by spreading her legs, seeing how her shorts ride up and can get a peek of her baby blue spandex shorts. You feel your face warm up, trying to keep your eyes above her waist.

“E-excuse me?” was all you could say as you stared at her in disbelief. 

She raises her eyebrows. “That hoodie,” she says, pointing to the exact hoodie you had on. “I came to get it back with a few of my other things.”

Shit.

“Look, I'm sorry,” sighing to mostly yourself. Abby reminded you that she wanted her stuff back, and because of the sudden disconnect between you two, you didn’t have the time. You took a moment to look around you, seeing if there were any remnants of her presence still lingering in your home. “I haven't done any laundry and just grabbed whatever was in my hamper. Tomorrow, I'll have a look around.”

Abby shakes her head with that same stupid smirk on her face. She flips her hair to the side and loosens the neck of her hoodie collar Was she hot..?

“No. I want you to take it off. Right now,” She says in that tone that you're familiar with. A deep, dulcet, yet desperate. 

You feel this fluttering hurt in your stomach, the good kind. You haven’t slept with anyone since Abby, and she looks like she needs you…

Fuck it.

You grab the bottom of the hoodie, lifting it and revealing your naked top half. Your skin litters with goosebumps, feeling the slight chill air around you, but the warm liquid swimming in your belly is another thing. You see the light pink blush painting Abby’s cheeks as you toss the hoodie. Fuck she’s so cute. Abby catches it but tosses the hoodie to the side and yanks your hand as you fall on top of her. 

“Abby!” you let out a small yelp as she melts her lips to yours. The way Abby was kissing you was enough to tell you that this girl was needy. Hertongue finds yours, teeth clashing, letting out small, quiet moans and whines as her grip on your arm tightens. You break the kiss, taking a good look at her glossy lips, her eyes drooped with arousal, and how her hair is already mused.

“And you said that I missed you? Look at you, poor baby.” You whisper in the space between the two of you, letting your lips linger but not enough for the needy girl below you to get another taste. 

Abby’s eyes widen for a second, opening her mouth to say something but closing it with a flustered face.

“You missed me so much,” You say as your hand creeps up on the muscular thigh, so close to where she needs you. She shifts, wanting to get you between her legs, but you’re already one step ahead of her. You move your knee, having good pressure against Abby that has her slightly bucking her eager hips. “That you came over to get a stupid sweater?”

Abby’s eyebrows furrow, and she shakes her head. This cute, puzzled look on her face makes you want to bury her in kisses, but you’re supposed to be mad at her. You lean back into her lips, biting, sucking, anything that works her up. Abby is putty below you. She lets out these moans that you’ve never heard before, high-pitched mewls that make you bite her lip harder. Your hand creeps up her thigh, up into the crewneck, and you are met with her bare, sensitive chest, rising and falling rapidly  You smile into the kiss, not wanting to embarrass her even more for coming over prepared. You grope her chest, fondling with the fat that lay there and playing with the pebbling nipple. Abby breaks the kiss, inhaling sharply.

“Ah- please.” She gasps, bucking her hips again. This was a completely different side of her. Abby has received from you, and she is pretty vocal in bed, but this fucking submissive? It makes you want to deprive her for weeks on end. You break the kiss, hurridly helping Abby take off her crewneck and attaching your mouth to her boob. Circling your tongue around the rose-colored nipple has Abby holding her breath. After a few minutes of playing with her chest, you trail kisses down to the navel. You didn’t even have to ask, as Abby was quick to slip her shorts off, tossing them somewhere in the living room.

“Mmm, needy, aren’t we?” looking into her eyes as you mutter against her hip bone, skin almost feverish to how warm she was. Abby rolls her eyes, the sass still somehow in her.

“Fuck yes, ok? Please, baby,” Abby whines, throwing her head back onto the couch armrest. She reveals her neck, sweat droplets cascade slowly, accentuating the veins that played there. Fingers are dancing up her leg, in between where you see how desperate her cunt is. Glistening, soft pink flesh and her musk have you blacking out slightly. 

“I want you to look at me, Abby.” You said, patting her thigh to grab her attention as you met with her eyes. It’s as if she was god himself. Her fucked out expression made you clench around nothing.

“Good girl” was the last thing you said as you stuck your tongue out and licked a fat stripe of her pussy. Abby can't help but close her eyes, too overwhelmed by your teasing tongue. 

“Nuh uh, look at me. I want you to watch, baby,” putting your tongue away, smoothing her shaking thighs over with your hands. She nods eagerly, raking her hair out of her face. You bite back a smile before diving in again. Spreading her open with your mouth, Abby was so wet. Slick coating your chin, you move your hand over to pull back her clit to kiss it. Moans strung out from the blonde above, not caring how loud she was getting. She grabs your hair and makes a satisfying pull to your scalp that has you groaning into her cunt. You alternate between sucking, licking, sucking, licking. Your head is spinning as you prop yourself on your elbows, applying the pressure of two fingers dancing on her clit, your jaw feeling sore. Smiling at the cute, blissed-out expression on Abby’s face makes you want to be between her legs all night. 

“Are you close?” you ask, voice hoarse after not speaking for the last 3 minutes. Abby doesn't dare to open her eyes, knowing that if she makes eye contact with you, she’ll come too fast. She nods, eyebrows furrowed as she nibbles on her swollen bottom lip from the constant biting she does. You allow it this time, allowing Abby to take in the euphoric blooming in her stomach. You really shouldn’t, wishing you had prolonged her orgasm as a punishment for ghosting you and making you suffer every night. 

“Come for me, baby, yeah? Show me how bad you want this” Famous last words before you attached your mouth back onto her clit, switching your finger to easily slip into her. Pumping your index finger in a “come hither” motion, feeling her clench around you. 

“Fuck fuck, please, I’m coming. K-keep-ah-doing that,” She hisses as her body seizes, fingers gripping so good in your scalp. Strong thighs clamp around your head as you lazily lick at her rosy clit with a grin.

Who knew Abby could be so fucking needy?

a/n: heyyyyyyy, sorry i was on hiatus for a while. i suddenly got the motivation to write, so do what you will with this

[honoredalone]

𝐏𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐃𝐑𝐈𝐏𝐏𝐈𝐍’ 𝐎𝐅𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐒, 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘

and i say fuck the rules and let ‘em find out, but that’s just how i’m feeling. — i don’t wanna share, it’s a damn shame. i’ll still play it fair, won’t drop no names.

content warning: 18+, mouth watering smut (hopefully), college au, unprotected sex (cover for your lover pls), virgin gojo because i can’t get over him, riding, semi-public sex (at a party), basketball player gojo, filthyyyyy sex but it’s hot so.. let me know if there’s anything else

authors note: hi my lovely friends! please let me know your thoughts on this, i value your opinions so so so much and i cannot say thank you enough for all of the support. if you have any suggestions for content always feel free to ask, i would love to hear from all of you and your amazing ideas! thank you so so so so sooo much for 500 followers, i love you all so dearly and i hope everything is well for everyone! i’m sorry for my inactiveness but school has been killing me and i have the worst writers block ever so i’m sorry if this isn’t up to par :(

you swore to yourself that when you began university, you would focus on your studies and not pay any mind to boys but gojo satoru is not just any boy. he’s the star basketball player, a candidate for the boys youth all japan olympic team, the gold at the end of the rainbow and you have him, all to yourself.

after the most awaited college basketball game among campus, tokyo tech versus kyoto stem college. two rival teams, going all or nothing. tokyo tech took home gold at home stadium, so of course the campus erupted in parties all throughout the property. all day, all night, everyday for the next week. a party not even 100 yards from the last. celebrating the boys and their extraordinary wipe against their long term rivals

how you ended up at the biggest party after the game? you had no clue. how you ended up in satoru’s large bedroom during the biggest college sport afterparty? you had no clue. how you have gojo satoru under you right now? you have no clue.

you’re sat so pretty atop his strong quads, the muscles flexing below you. he’s hot, the room is sweltering, thin sheen of sweat attempting to cool his upper bodies exposed skin. “gotta tell you somethin’. pretty girl like you deserves it, yeah?” you whispered a cute approval before burying your face in his neck, nipping the tender skin near his adam’s apple.

his body is on fire, head is dazed in your soft, serene touches and his strained cock so close to being suffocated by your silky hole. the hard shaft hovering over his sculpted abdomen. “never— fuck.. never done this before. gonna be extra sweet to me, baby?” his normally confident facade crumbles to rubble when you pull back from your gentle attack on his neck, looking at him with the sweetest eyes he’s ever seen.

his hand that are perched on the dip of your waist slither up the small of your back, toying with the clasp of your elegant lacy bra, slowly disconnecting the small metal pieces keeping the undergarment sat on your pretty tits. you let the piece fall from your soft body, him throwing the lace to the floor. satoru’s pupils dilated in the dimly lit bedroom, his oceanic eyes nearly black. he’s seen tits in porn and unsolicited nudes he’s been sent, even woman that flash him before, after and during his games but none of them compared to your beautiful body. he suddenly wraps his arm tightly around you, attaching his lips to your hardened nipple and his unoccupied hand rolling the other between the callused pads of his forefinger and thumb.

“need you. god, let me— is this okay?” he leaned back, newfound confidence fizzling out, his dick throbbing and the perfect pink head now blanketed in precum. you nodded, flustered and desperate for him. “words, pretty girl. use your big girl words, can’t hear ya.” satoru’s flirtatious tone had you gushing all over his lap, your juices soaking his thighs and clean sheets below you two.

“yes. want to so bad ‘toru.” you gasped, hands flying to satoru’s shoulders to balance yourself as he yanks you closer to his chest, lifting you to align his fat cock head with your wet core. he slowly pressed himself between your folds, loosening his grip against you to allow you to take this at your own pace. “‘s so big, not gonna fit.” he pouted at your complaint, drawing an invisible line right below your belly button.

“‘m gonna be right there, sweetheart.” he cooed, looking at your already blushed face while his thumb tracing comforting shapes on your hip bone attempting to soothe your worry. “we can stop, ‘s okay.” you protested, slowly pressing yourself closer to his lap. moaning in tandem with each other. his stretch, your squeeze was intoxicating and he immediately knows he isn’t going to last.

once his cock is fully sheathed inside you grind down, his pubic bone stimulating your neglected nerves. choking his erection in your walls he couldn’t help but fuck up into you forcibly. after a couple of minutes to adjust, you begin to bounce on his lap, fucking him for everything he has. satoru cried and twitched and felt the ecstasy coursing through his body.

“f-fuck. so.. ngh, so good!” satoru mewled, he meets your brutal thrusts, bruising grip tight on the top of your pillowy thighs. “baby, baby. slow, s-slower. ‘m not gonna last like this.” a soft chuckle rumbled through his chest, holding you tight for a moment so you both could catch your breath. he kissed down your neck, to the valley of your chest while he ground his head against your cervix. taking hold of your waist once more, slowly bouncing you on him again. “so tight, shit.”

you felt like you were being let into heaven. satoru is longer than he is thick but that did not mean he lacked in girth, the veins rubbing every inch of you. he felt unreal. better than any toy or any man ever will. satoru cries out your name into the hot, sultry air. his eyelids are heavy and mouth hung open, singing chants, desperate and needy. “good boy, ah! such a pretty cock.” you praised, his eyes meet yours. pupils heart shaped, brows furrowed like a begging puppy, snowy strands sticking to the crown of his head.

“say it again. please.” he begged dipping his head down to cover your chest in bites, continuing the assault on his organ. he whined when you repeated your sweet words, his ears perking at your honeyed voice. “‘m your good boy. oh fuuuck.” his head falls back onto the plushy mattress, you press your hand down onto his bladder, teasing his climax but the action only made him fall over the edge. “gonna, mmm! gonna cum, where.” he was frantic, he didn’t know where was an appropriate place to cum but when you continued to apply pressure to his lower body and swing your hips like a temptress he can’t help but let himself go.

a sound breaking groan escaped his throat like it was punched out of him, your stomach warmed and fluttered at his state. his pale skin a pretty rosy pink and lips swollen, bitten, his neck and chest is marked in possessive bruises. satoru’s chest is heaving, abs tensing and heart nearly beating out of his chest.

later, after he caught his breath, he lays you down. before you can process what he is doing satoru is spreading your thighs with his big callused hands, coming face to face with your glazed pussy and he feels his cock jump in excitement. the sight addicting, his seed slowly seeping out of the tight muscle but he takes his long, slender fingers and pushes the fluid back in. slowly scissoring his digits and curling them against the sweet spot inside of your body.

“hey sweets?” he kisses and sucks on the fat of your thighs while waiting for you to respond. you slowly lift your head and prop yourself up on your elbows to look at him adoringly.

“teach me how to eat her? she’s begging for it, dripping all over.” god you were in for a long night and the party is just getting started.

[ford-between-dimensions]

So Ford.

Gonna put it all on the table. One stream of consciousness done as neatly as one can at 11pm after a distressing day of my own.

To start,

You are a traumatized man. Plain and simple.

From familial trauma to making a deal with a literal demon to familial trauma AGAIN, mentally speaking you are not well.

I don't care how much you deny it. It's the truth.

You're a golden child, someone who could supposedly do no wrong, put on a pedestal ever since you were a child.

And that causes a disconnect between yourself and others in terms of empathy and understanding.

Now, to Portal Incident #1.

As you've said, you were in the wrong. Fiddleford warned you against testing/using it several times and you dismissed him on every occasion. You didn't even ask him if he was okay when you pulled him away from the portal after he almost got sucked in. Yes, you were not the one who put the memory gun to his head and made him use it over and over until he lost his sanity, but you still inadvertently gave this man intense trauma for the sake of your hubris.

Also, I may be misremembering, and please correct me if I am, but the portal was for Bill, yes? He's the reason you were building it in the first place. That adds another layer of complexity and nuance into the situation given how you were heavily manipulated into doing so.

You were in the wrong. And while an apology is a bandaid on a beheading, it is certainly a start.

Whether you realize it or not, you are incredibly selfish and vain as a result of your upbringing, and while it does not excuse your actions whatsoever, it does explain it to an extent. You are a broken person, one who needs to relearn empathy and actually thinking about other people. You think so highly of yourself yet you're incredibly lonely and that, for lack of a better word, fucks a person up.

This isn't even touching on everything with your brother. Because frankly the current topic isn't about that. But oh boy do I have thoughts on how fucked up that all was for BOTH of you.

Now.

With all that being said.

Why the fuck do you keep shooting children? Like?? You do realize that's WRONG???

(Ooc did any of that make any fucking sense omg I just did so much word vomit I am so sorry)

…I’d…rather not discuss this any more.

[boozeforbrains]

Passing out wasted at your friends place only for them to make sure you have another bottle of liqour next to you when you wake up; if youre still hesitant to keep going telling you to keep the hangover at bay you Absolutely need some more alcohol in you. Pouring it for you and holding it up for you to take, telling you to trust them. You ending up too drunk to even stand back up once you inevitably stumble and fall down, just sloppily and uncoordinatedly trying to stagger your way back up to a standing position. All before 9am. Taking you out to lunch once you wake up from passing out once again and had a shower. Ordering you drink after drink at the restaurant again.

Taking advantage of the fact that youre too drunk to tell how fast time is passing, so fucking horny looking at your uselessly sloppy state, watching you clumsily reach for your next drink, squinting your eyes and slurring incoherently about random disconnected topics, while hiccuping between chugs and swaying back and forth in your seat. Secretly making a challenge of getting you too drunk to get up from your chair.

[misstwisted]

raaaaant time

so, I am very upset over the new Menéndez brothers series that came out. If you’ve seen it, you probably know why. Before I go into this, if you don’t know about this case, the menendez brothers had murdered their mom and dad in 1989 as self defense, fearing of them soon murdering them themselves, after suffering years of physical, emotional, and sexual abuse by their parents hands.

for context I am a long time supporter of these men. I’ve known about this case since I was around 12 (unsupervised internet access, lmao) and I supported them then and I support them now.

This series is fucking disgusting. And not just because of the atrocious, disrespectful, and weirdly comedic relief portrayals of these traumatized men, no no no, it also of course just had to include sexualization and Incestuous fetishization of them. I was SO EXTREMELY UNCOMFORTABLE watching these scenes. I’m sure it’s all supposed to show how their father had fucked up the brothers relationship and how he blurred the lines for them of what’s appropriate and not appropriate to do with your family, but this crosses a god damn line. It’s possible I’m also giving this dumb fuck director too much credit. Idk if it’s just me, but this feels like a writers barely disguised fetish moment. So many scenes felt like the start of a porno, and at times DID BECOME A PORNO!!!!!

I remember so many times of me yelling out loud in shock “WHAT IS THIS SHOW????”

the dialogue is trash, the pacing is trash, the portrayal is trash, etc. The only part I personally think was great was when they recreated the footage of Lyle and Erik walking into court. When I was watching it I felt they really looked and acted like the brothers at that moment. And the fact it’s surrounded by such garbage is sad. It really felt disconnected from the other episodes and scenes because of how much I enjoyed that little moment. And they weren’t even talking or anything.

There’s only like one word I could use to describe a lot of the scenes, especially the sexualization scenes, which is: unnecessary.

Gotta be honest, I really wanted to like this show! Thought it could bring back attention on this case again. Show empathy towards them. But no, I had to watch two actors portraying real life traumatized brothers kiss each other.

I am seriously wondering now if Ryan Murphy wanted two actors with romantic/sexual chemistry casted on purpose for what seems to be some sort of fantasy of his.

I started this show YESTERDAY, I am halfway through episode 7 right now. I wanted to see if it’d get better, and it just never did. But honestly? It’s my fault. What did I fucking expect from a Netflix series that’s directed by the guy who made GLEE? I’m still mad now, but I can’t even describe how even more upset I was yesterday watching it.

I legit could probably go on for days about how disrespectful this show is, and good on Erik for not being afraid to call it and the directors out.

It’s in vain to say this, because obviously they’ll never see it, but: Ryan Murphy and Ian Brennan you two are pieces of utter dogshit. What about any of this was a good idea? You guys deserve to be sued for thinking this was okay. You deserve it for making Dahmer, and you deserve it for making this. I don’t even wanna SAY all the horrible things I think about you guys. All i hope is nobody ever hands you two a god damn camera again. Sincerely go fuck yourselves.

I know I’m being a dramatic little bitch again for the 100th time but this is truly horrendous. This isn’t just a story you can add shit to and get creative with, guys, this is their LIVES. These are real human people with dignities and families that care about them. They’ve been disrespected enough, the fact that they were sentenced to life in general just shows how little people empathized with them.

This audacity of this being made. This very serious story of trauma being turned into this weird comedy show.

what is this RPF, Ryan Murphy? ARE YOU BORED??? How about you go make a actual fucking difference? Cause you know what, Erik and Lyle are, and they’re the ones who’re incarcerated!

that’ll be all.

[funishment-time]

i desperately want more spin-offs like UDG where we're given the events of DR through Very Different points of view.

one idea i always enjoyed is a Protagonist completely disconnected from the main cast, who does not know or care that the Remnants were once innocent kids and will once again be (mostly) innocent kids, who is not invested in hope versus despair or whatever the fuck. they see terrorists and suffering and they want the Remnants dead.

battling big-ass Nekomaru is cool and all, but i'm thinking boss fights to agonize the player where you're chasing down non-fighters like Ibuki and Mahiru and you see a flash of who they used to be before delivering the blow. each time the protagonist has to be convinced to only knock them out, to let the FF deal with them. each time the protagonist has to tell themself that the infinite layers of grief they see in those young eyes are manipulative, false.

you don't know who Sato or Natsumi or Chiaki are. you know half your friends are gone and your city's exploded and you haven't heard from your partner in two months. you're able to split up the yakuza couple and, heavily injured and unable to move, the bodyguard woman with the sword yells for her boss. what was it? Inuhiko? Fuyuhiko? she reaches out. you swing the bat.

because it doesn't matter what they were: it only matters what they took from you, the Protagonist

[baeddoll]

started leaving discord calls by poorly mimicking the disconnect sound as a new cute girl thing, recently realized i do it when leaving a space irl it’s so fucking over broken human forever

[unforgivenn]

16th HOUR #8: Flesh and Metal

Previous/ Masterlist

CW: violence, injury, trauma, severe self-harm, asphyxiation, Drug use, Emotional and psychological distress, panic, Non-con restraints and captivity, manipulation, abuse This one is gory af

Samuel’s breaths came in ragged gasps, each one feeling more desperate than the last. His heart pounded against his chest, and he could hear the loud ringing in his ears. The dim light overhead flickered weakly, casting long shadows on the cold stone walls that felt more like a prison than a room. He shuddered as he became fully conscious, his head pounding from whatever drug had been injected into him. It made his thoughts sluggish, his body heavy, every limb slow to respond. Of course the fucker had added drugs in the food..

It was working too well—his mind felt clouded, sluggish, like he was wading through thick fog. A dull metallic clinking echoed in the small space as the chain around his ankle rattled. His skin stung where the cold, unrelenting metal dug into it, sharp and cruel, biting deeper with every tiny shift he made. It felt weird. He wasn’t unconscious like all the other times. No, this one was worse—it was keeping him awake, his brain half-functional, aware enough to feel the panic creeping in but too clouded to think his way out. His limbs felt heavy, almost disconnected from the rest of his body. Each movement was like dragging his limbs through wet cement, sluggish and agonizing.

He blinked, trying to focus on the chains binding him. His vision doubled, then tripled, the room spinning like a carousel he couldn’t get off. His stomach lurched, bile rising in his throat, but he forced it down. The cold bite of the shackle around his ankle snapped him back for a moment, though the edges of his awareness frayed with each passing second. Every breath felt like it took a monumental effort, and his body swayed, barely able to keep upright.

His fingers brushed the chain at his ankle, fumbling to find some way to loosen it. The cold metal felt wrong, almost foreign, like his nerves couldn’t fully register the sensation anymore. It took a few moments before he realized the wetness on his hands wasn’t sweat—it was blood. He couldn’t feel the pain the way he should have; it was muted, distant, but there. Always there, gnawing at the edges of his senses. He tugged at the chain again, gritting his teeth as a wave of dizziness hit him hard, threatening to pull him under.

His breathing grew rapid, and he tried blinking away the tears. "No... no, no, no..." he whispered, the words tumbling from his lips like prayers to a god that wasn’t listening. His hand flew to his throat, clawing at it. Not now Oh god please not now.

Samuel forced himself to stop, pressing his hands into the cold floor beneath him. He was still alive. Well at least that was something.. is mind raced, replaying flashes of what had happened. The auction, the bidding, Marcus... Fucking Marcus.

His hands trembled as they reached for the chain at his ankle, desperate to find a weak point, something he could exploit. Somehow the chain felt as if it was choking him, as if it kept tightening every few seconds. Maybe it did. He wasn't sure.

It was like his mind was floating somewhere above his body, detached, watching himself suffer without the power to do anything about it. The chain’s tightness around his ankle felt both real and unreal, the metallic bite digging into his flesh while his senses struggled to fully process it. His ankle was throbbing, but it was like his brain couldn’t quite understand that it was his ankle, his pain. His breaths came faster, shallower, the air thick and cloying, suffocating him as his head lolled to the side.

He pulled at the chain, trying to wedge his fingers underneath to loosen it. It didn’t move. It was so tight that even the slightest pressure sent a sharp jolt of pain through his ankle. Samuel bit down hard on his lip, swallowing a groan, and tried again, his muscles straining with the effort. The drug in his system only made it harder for him to think. His breath came out in ragged gasps, the air around him thick and suffocating. Please Please Please...

The pain intensified, the metal biting into the tender flesh, but Samuel refused to stop. His fingers fumbled, slick with sweat and the beginnings of blood, as he tried to pry it off. He could feel the rough edges of the chain grinding into his skin, and a sickening crack told him something was breaking—not the chain, but something inside him. The pain increased, probably a sign that the drug was wearing off.

Samuel pressed one of his hands on his mouth, trying to drown out the noises of pain that slipped away. He pulled his hand away from the shackle trying to calm himself down, trying to repeat himself he could do this, that the pain was going to be worth it when he got out here. Silent tears streamed down his cheeks.

He took a shaky breath before closing his eyes and then yanking harder, his whole body trembling with the exertion. His ankle felt like it was on fire, the sharp, stabbing pain growing with each desperate pull. Blood trickled down his leg, warm and sticky, mixing with the dirt and grime that coated his skin. The stench of iron filled his nostrils, turning his stomach.

Samuel gritted his teeth, the copper taste of blood filling his mouth as he bit down harder on his soft lips to stifle his cries. He tugged again, harder this time, and something tore. A raw, burning sensation shot through his ankle, and he could feel the skin peeling away, layer by agonizing layer. His vision blurred with more tears sniffling to keep them in.

As much as he wanted to disagree he couldn’t stop now. He was too far in. His fingers pressed against the blood-soaked skin, trying to wedge the chain down. The more he pushed, the deeper it cut, and soon, the chain was buried in his flesh, disappearing into the bloody mess that had once been his ankle. His stomach twisted in revulsion and he gagged at the sight. He pulled his filthy shirt, twisting it and then biting down on it.

His thoughts raced, fractured and wild, as the pain tore through him. It felt like he was being split open from the inside, his flesh ripped apart by the unrelenting pressure of the chain. He wanted to scream, wanted to rip his own fucking leg off just to make it stop.

His whole body shook, his breaths coming out in strangled gasps as he yanked again, the chain slipping slightly down. A fresh wave of agony surged through him, so intense it stole his breath. His vision swam, the room spinning around him. Please lord just let it come off..

The chain slid another inch, pulling more of his skin with it, leaving a raw, oozing wound in its wake. Samuel’s body convulsed, the pain so overwhelming that he could barely think, barely breathe. His ankle was a mangled, bleeding mess, the flesh torn away to reveal the slick, gleaming bone beneath.

Biting down on the shirt wasn't helping so he bit down hard on his knuckle, his teeth sinking into the flesh to keep himself from crying out and distract him from the overwhelming pain.

Samuel pushed again, his fingers slick with blood as he worked the chain farther down. His skin peeled away in thick, wet chunks, and he could feel the warmth of the blood pooling around his foot, soaking into the cold, hard floor. His breath hitched, his whole body trembling from the exertion, from the sheer, overwhelming agony.

The chain slipped again, this time falling with a dull clink onto the floor. A wave of relief washed over him, but it was short-lived. Samuel’s ankle throbbed, blood oozing from the deep gash that circled it. His skin was shredded, barely hanging on, the bone exposed and gleaming in the dim light of the room. He looked down at the mess of his leg, nausea rising in his throat at the sight of it. Fucking move!!

His legs barely moved, his body not responding the way it should have. He wasn’t sure if it was the drugs or the pain—or maybe both—but everything felt wrong, like he was fighting through layers of molasses just to take another breath, to move another inch.

God, what did he put in me?

He dragged himself to his feet, biting back a scream as his injured ankle gave way beneath him. The world tilted dangerously, but he forced himself to stay upright, leaning heavily on the wall for support, breathing heavily. Every step was filled with agony, and his vision blurred with each jolt of pain that shot through him.

The room seemed to spin around him as he struggled towards the door, the smell of thick blood nauseatingly in the air. His whole body ached, every muscle screaming in protest, yet he pushed forward, his heart pounding in his chest. The door was so close—just a few more steps.

And then, a sound.

Footsteps. Drawing closer.

Samuel tensed up at the sudden sound, his heart racing as fear gripped him. No no no no no!!

And almost immediately, heavy tears began streaming down his cheeks with his eyes still wide open in shock. His breath hitched when the door creaked open.

Marcus stood in the doorway, his cold calculating eyes fixed onto Samuel. There was no emotion in them, no hint of sympathy or understanding. It was that same detached cruelty that daunted Samuel since Day One. A tinge of a smile curled up on the man's face as his eyes fell upon the mess his prisoner had made.

"No.."

Samuel’s heart sank, his breath choking his throat. The chain might be off, but he wasn’t free. Not yet.

And Marcus had come to remind him of that.

"Were you going somewhere, Sammy?" Marcus tilted his head, pouting as he stepped into the room, his movements slow and deliberate, as if some sort of predator closing in on his prey.

Cold sweat oozed down his face; his heart racing in his chest. He could feel the room shrink around him, the walls coming down, suffocating him. Samuel shook his head, shaking.

Marcus took a step closer, his gaze flicking down to the bloody mess that was Samuel’s ankle. A slow, cold smile spread across his lips. "Are you sure? It looks like you’ve been very busy."

Samuel jerked his body backward, his body with a loud cry as the pain flared through his ankle once again.

He was trapped.

Samuel's knees buckled and his body collapsed under him. The pain in his ankle ripped through him with the ferocity of wildfire, each nerve shrieking in protest as he tried to find his footing, but the blood-slick floor betrayed him. He hit the ground with a sickening thud, gasping for air and trying to suppress the wave of nausea rising in his throat.

“No…” His voice was barely audible, a terrified whisper as Marcus stepped back into the room, his expression unreadable. He hit his head against the cold floor, letting out a defeated sob. Samuel’s chest tightened, his breath hitching in his throat. The terror was so overwhelming it was paralyzing, his body locking up as Marcus approached.

He closed his eyes, clenching them shut so hard that it hurt, as if the act would block out the reality of where he was, of what he had become. But it didn’t. Nothing could. Not even the thick fog that was ever so slowly settling over his mind, numbing his thoughts, dulling the edges of his consciousness. The pain, though, remained sharp, ever-present.

“Still fighting, I see,” Marcus said, his voice dripping heavy with sarcasm. He crouched down, his face inches from Samuel’s, that sickening smile playing on his lips. “That’s cute.”

Samuel’s lips trembled, his breath coming in shallow, irregular gasps when Marcus’s fingers pressed into his skin. He wanted to pull away, to scream, to do anything to get away from that touch, but his body refused to comply.

Marcus’s hand slid down, his fingers curving around Samuel’s throat, just tight enough to make him feel the pressure, the promise of something far worse if he dared resist. Samuel’s pulse quickened, his chest heaving with panic surging through him.

“Do you understand why this keeps happening?” Marcus asked, voice soft and silky, as if trying to soothe a frightened child. “It’s because you don’t listen, Sam. You don’t learn. I’m trying to help you, and still you keep fighting me.”

Help? Dehumanizing someone with thoughts and feelings wasn't helping. Making someone go through pain without any reason wasn't helping. Fuck him, He wouldn't even know the meaning of "help". Samuel’s jaw clenched, his teeth digging into his bottom lip so hard that he tasted blood. He wanted to scream at Marcus, to tell him how much he hated him, how much he despised every word that came out of his mouth. But he couldn’t. The words were trapped in his throat, smothered by fear.

“You’re stubborn,” Marcus continued, his thumb brushing lightly against Samuel’s pulse. “But that’s okay. I’m not in a hurry. I can wait for you to understand.”

Samuel's breath caught as his body shook beneath Marcus' touch. He didn’t want to understand. He didn’t want to listen. All he wanted was for this to end, for the nightmare to be over. Apparently that was too much to ask in this world. Maybe in some other life he would be treated like a human with emotions and not just some doll.

The man leaned closer, hot breath against Samuel’s ear. “You’ll learn eventually,” he whispered, “One way or another.”

There was still a small part of Samuel that clung to the hope that this could end, that there was a way out, a way to escape. But that part was growing weaker with each passing day, each passing hour. And Marcus knew it.

Marcus always knew.

The man crouched down again, his eyes locking onto Samuel’s, his smile widening as he leaned in close, his breath ghosting across Samuel’s skin.

“You hate me,” Marcus whispered, his voice a low, dark murmur that sent a shiver down Samuel’s spine. “I know you do. I can see it in your eyes.”

Samuel’s throat tightened, his heart pounding against his ribcage as he stared up at Marcus, the hatred burning in his chest like a fire that refused to die.

“But that’s okay,” Marcus continued, his fingers brushing against Samuel’s cheek. “Hate is just another form of attention. As long as you’re focused on me, I don’t care what you feel.”

The words hit Samuel like a physical blow, knocking the breath from his lungs as the full weight of Marcus’s control pressed down on him. It wasn’t about love or hate. It wasn’t about what Samuel felt. It was about Marcus — always Marcus — and the way he could twist and manipulate everything around him, bending it to his will.

Marcus smiled. “You’re going to learn your place, Samuel. You’re going to learn that you don’t get to fight. You don’t get to resist. You’re mine now. And anyways you wouldn't like me to send you back to the facility would you?"

Samuel’s throat closed up, his vision swimming with tears. He wanted to scream, to fight, to tell Marcus to go to hell, but his body betrayed him. His voice was gone, swallowed by the overwhelming fear that was crushing him from the inside out.

Marcus’s grip tightened and he gritted his teeth widening the smile, his fingers digging painfully into Samuel’s skin. “You wouldn't right?”

“I—” Samuel choked on his words, his voice barely more than a whimper. As bad as Marcus was, anything would be better than returning to the facility. “I-I… No..”

“No what?”

“No… sir.”

Marcus’s smile widened, a sick, satisfied grin that made Samuel’s stomach churn with disgust and shame. His hand released him, and he stood up, looking down at him.

“Good boy,” Marcus said, his voice filled with a twisted sense of pride.

Samuel wanted to die.

---

Taglist: @electrons2006/ @anutz1234/ @ash-reh/ @whumped-by-glitter/ @catnykit/ @morning-star-whump/ @paperprinxe/ @octopus-reactivated/ @whumpdemonium/ @watermelons-dont-grow-on-trees/ @noeul-whumpppss

@whumpifi/ @fable-bug-real/ @cheesemctoastnuggets/ @deputydeputyp/ @thelazywitchphotographer/ @isntthisblank/ @noeul-whumpppssssss1234

@nuriiz134/ @fox-fox234/ @carosbee/ @writingphoenix @carolinethedragon/ @possumhoe/ @evagran/ @somebody327/ @someoneoninternettt/ @classyanchorlove/ @kiratheperson/ @boahamcock/ @pyromaiow/ @imarandomgamer/ @edward-mybeloved/ @skribl/ @aleki-lives-here/ @roskarovio/ @pentagramstars/ @ossknsma/ @abbyreader23/ @cluelesscameraman/ @alphabet-egg/ @cheesemctoastnuggets/ @deputydeputyp/ @thelazywitchphotographer/ @isntthisblank/@demetercabingreen-thumb/ @noeul-whumpppssssss1234/ @electrons2006/ @demetercabingreen-thumb

@vampiresprite/ @lucas--43/ @defire/ @mylifeisonthebookshelf/ @whumpwhittler/ @taterswhump

(lmk if you wanna be added or removed <3)

[puppyeared]

filipina miku!! my mom helped me with her outfit ^_^

[boysborntodie]

TUA S4 proved that Netflix cancelling their shows after the first season is actually a good thing

[girlboyburger]

had an identity crisis, prime time for a slight sona redesign!

it's cow! (again!)

+ a closeup because i'm really proud of the eyes

[raphs-rhapsody]

he immediately made scarab his own ao3 account afterwards.

[pcktknife]

IQ

[kkoct-ik]

i dont think i will ever forgive what the internet did to DID because please explain to me how "your sense of self is so torn apart you think youre multiple people" turned into "youre actually multiple people"

do you understand what i mean? please understand what i mean

[trixii384star]

IK IM LATE, DTIYS ENTRY FOR @sallufix

I’M SO SORRY- i hope you see it at least :’3