#my entire life I feel like I’ve just existed in the shadow of what he could of been

[nowimhaunted]

/

[bratbby333]

i will possess your heart – satoru gojo

-this story contains very heavy nsfw content! please read at your own discretion!-

𓆩ᥫ᭡𓆪 content warnings dead dove fic- heavy stalking, violent obsession, manipulation, forced voyeurism, forced exhibition, drugging, mentions of blood, knives, use of restraints, plot twist, extreme dub-con 𓆩ᥫ᭡𓆪 synopsis for as cocky as Satoru is, it’s oddly fitting. in his mind, everything belongs to him, including you. 𓆩ᥫ᭡𓆪 word count 8k

Satoru fumbled with a tripod as he positioned his camera onto the stand and proceeded to hit record. He was thorough, making sure his chair was perfectly centered before he sat down, staring at himself in the viewfinder while he fussed with his hair, inhaling deeply. A wide grin cut across his face before dropping back into lackluster neutrality. He looked down at his lap, his fingers ran up and down his denim-clad thighs. He snapped back onto the camera blank-faced before a deranged smile pulled at his cheeks.

Click

January 16th, 4:06 AM

I woke up drenched in the feeling of lethargy again—another night of only an hour’s worth of sleep. Nothing feels real when you hit a certain point. I’m plagued by the shadows, my entire life enshrouded in darkness. I don’t remember what things were like before. Day by day, it’s all the same. I cannot escape it—this anchoring feeling of despair. The emptiness eats away at me. I’m in search of release…of some sort of freedom from this pain. I need to fill my life with meaning, to find purpose in this accursed world…I think I’ll go out for coffee today. People watching brings me so much joy. They seem to live much happier lives than me.

Click

January 16th, 6:38 PM

My daydreams must’ve blended into reality because there was no way I created someone as beautiful as she was outside my imagination. I’m certain of it. She was sitting at the bar of the cafe down the street from my apartment, dressed in business casual—she probably works nearby. How kismet. The coffee was bland, as were most things in my life, but she awoke something in me. I hope I see her again. She somehow managed to clear the cobwebs around my heart. I think my life has finally found purpose. She is my driving force. I wonder what her name is.

Click

January 19th, 6:11 AM

Feeling well-rested today. Four hours of sleep is my new record. I plan to go to the coffee shop again. Back to the place where my eyes were first blessed with the mirage of her…where I first fell in love. I hope she’s there. People are so fun to observe when they don’t think they’re being watched…it’s simple psychology. The Hawthorne Effect. When humans notice they are under observation, they change. So inauthentic. But her? She never notices. She sits so obliviously, allowing me to take her in with ease. So good to me. She’s a breath of fresh air. I hope to work up the courage to speak to her soon. My heart soars at the mere thought of being in her presence once again. It’s so refreshing to feel something after all this time. I’ve been numb for so long, but she has set my heart on fire. She is everything to me, my sole purpose for existence.

Click

January 19th, 8:27 PM

I saw her again today. She didn’t see me. Just how I like it. She typed away on her computer like normal…she’s a hard worker, it seems. Driven and strong. And here I was thinking such beauty was a thing of legend. It's refreshing to have been proved wrong–that rarely happens. Oh, how I crave her. I know she’d make me feel whole again. She can save me from all this, I can feel it. 

Click

January 23rd, 5:13 AM

Only two hours of sleep tonight. But, for some reason, I feel better than ever… I normally do when I find a reason for living, again. It’s her…it must be because of her. She keeps me going; my muse, my inspiration. She’s worked wonders on me already and she doesn’t even know it, yet. I’m going to the cafe again today, I cannot wait to see her. Maybe today I will finally speak to her.

Click

January 23rd, 9:53 PM

She never showed up today…I wonder what’s going on. Maybe she had other things to do. It’s fine, really. I’m annoyed, honestly. I waited around all day. I’ll keep checking until I see her again. 

Click

January 28th, 7:06 PM

My sweet girl has gone missing. I haven’t seen her in quite some time now. This is just ridiculous. The woman I love…is she avoiding me? No, no that cannot be. 

Click

February 2nd, 8:31 AM

I haven’t slept well in days. I’ve been awake for twenty six hours now…my mind feels like it’s filled with static and yet, I feel sharper than ever. I’ve gone to the cafe every day. Still no sign of her. I’m slipping back into my old ways, the darkness is going to return any moment. I’ve begun to hear the laughter in the shadows again. They’re making fun of me, I just know it. I need her…oh, I need her so bad. How could she do this to me? Does she not know how much I suffer when she’s not around? If I don’t see her again soon, I will never recover.

Click

February 5th, 6:21 PM

I finally saw her again today. My heartrate spiked and I nearly leaped from my seat to kiss her, to hold her, sway her side to side in a deep hug. Instead, I slipped a tracker into her purse as I walked by her chair. I must know where she works, where she lives, and what she enjoys in her free time. She slipped away from me so easily…can’t let that happen again. I need to know every little thing about her. She is my one and only after all. It would be ridiculous to love someone so deeply and know nothing about them. She is too beautiful, I cannot let her wander around unsupervised. There are some crazy people out there—you never know what could happen. I can’t lose her. I must keep her safe. I will possess her heart. No one else can have her but me. 

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.

Satoru observed her for months, shadowing her all around town. He knew the woman’s routine like the back of his hand, before he ever learned her name. Sunday’s she went grocery shopping, Monday after work was her pilates class, every couple of Thursday’s she was at the nail salon, and Friday’s were seemingly payday–he picked up on her pattern of going out to nice restaurants every other week. Satoru eventually got an upper-level management position at a company that shared the office building with her job–he is incredibly intelligent and overqualified, after all; they would be foolish to not hire him. Now he could really keep an eye on her.

That was when he finally learned her name–the two of them taking the same elevator. She didn’t recognize him as the man who seemingly had the same routine as her–it’s one of the many reasons why Satoru loved her so much: her naivety. She looked into his eyes for the first time that day, her voice was soft and angelic, and the name that fell from her lips sent waves through Satoru’s body, the same name that would now be coupled with his gasping moans every evening as he stroked himself to the thought of her. 

With Satoru’s new job that brought him one step closer to her, he knew he could no longer watch her in the way he used to. His movements had to be more calculated, putting more distance between them than he normally would or hiding behind the deep tint of his car windows. If she saw his face too frequently, she surely would have caught on. Satoru smiled at the possibility of her never catching on…how she’d greet him with a smile and a friendly hug each time they “coincidentally” bumped into one another, giggling about their lives' odd synchronicities. Such a sweet girl. If only she knew.

He stopped into her job, a small gift bag hanging off his slender fingers, desperate to watch her eyes light up with the sweet gesture of an unexpected gift. He asked to see her, only to be informed by the receptionist that she had the day off.

It was no worry, he didn’t let that dull his excitement. “I’m a friend of hers, brought this in to surprise her. Do you mind showing me to her desk, I’ll just leave it there for her when she returns to work,” he said kindly. The lady working the front desk blushed under his piercing gaze and handsome features, nodding shyly and walking him to his lover’s designated area. 

Satoru thanked her, stepping into the cubicle to place his gift by her computer. His eyes glazed over her workspace. It was decorated with trinkets and family photos. He picked one up, his thumb tracing over her face. His pretty girl. That smile could bring about world peace; it definitely quieted the angered voices in his head. He scanned her desk, a moment of envy shooting through him at the thought of her dainty fingers dancing over the keyboard rather than tangling in his hair. He groaned internally, looking over his shoulder to ensure no one was around, before ducking down, rummaging through his beloved’s drawers. Stowed away in the bottom of the unit was a fuzzy, white cardigan. He brought the fabric to his nose, inhaling deeply, stifling the filthy moan that nearly echoed through the cubicle. He quickly tucked it into his jacket, took one last look around, and headed toward the exit. 

In the safety of his vehicle, Satoru whipped the clothing out from under his wing, bringing it to his face once more. He undid his belt buckle with haste, shoving his dress slacks halfway down his thighs before his large fist swaddled his cock with the fuzzy white cardigan. He nearly sobbed at the contact, the smell of his car filling with her beautifully floral perfume. He brought the free edge up to his nose, taking another whiff as his hand worked furiously against his shaft. He had never finished so quickly in his life, staggered whimpers and choked moans fell from his parted lips as fat ropes shot up onto his abs and chest. His cheeks were flustered a violent red as he wiped his sticky shame away with her top. After he came, then did his clarity, and Satoru’s body ached with the thought of how good it would feel to finally be sheathed within her sticky walls, rather than her soft clothing. I’ll be with you soon. Soon, my love. 

These feelings were getting unbearable. His overactive brain had him teetering on the edge of insanity. He needed more. His imagination was no longer enough to satiate the hunger that gnawed so deeply in his core, the distanced watching and hopeless longing for the love of his life created jagged rifts in his already damaged psyche. He didn’t know how much more of this he could take. A few deep breaths and the promise he made to himself to take action soon quelled his burning desire. But for how much longer could Satoru repress the demon that clawed through his body?

Satoru surveyed her while she ran to the bank, walked her dog, or took her car to the wash. But his most favorite place to watch her was from the bench just outside her bedroom window, engulfed in darkness. Pretty girl lived on the second floor, her silly little brain assumed she didn’t need curtains. She never saw him, but he always saw her. All of her. Drinking in the way her clothes were delicately removed from her pretty little frame, the way she turned and posed in the mirror–so good to him. How her skin glistened after she got out of the shower, the water droplets running along her body in the same way Satoru wanted to. 

He fell into a state of bliss, feeling spoiled by the show he was getting tonight. The lotion that she worked into her body, the beautiful set of lingerie that she dawned. His eyes buzzed around his sockets, elation flooding through him. Gorgeous, gorgeous girl. But his body went rigid and his jaw locked tight at the appearance of another man behind the love of his life. He sat upright, shoulders stiff and heart pounding in his ears at the thought of his sweet being in danger, he cursed himself for not being more aware of her surroundings on her behalf. But when his darling girl turned to the unknown man with a smile, greeting him with a gentle kiss with the lips that were supposed to be just for Satoru, his heart shattered into a million pieces. 

Oh, no. This just won’t do, my love. You are mine. 

Jealousy coursed through his veins while he looked into her room, rage balled in his fists as he watched a random man have her in the one way Satoru couldn’t. Not yet, at least. He must’ve been new in her life, judging by the way his nervous hands explored every part of her skin. Satoru laughed at this–he knew he could please his woman so much better. But betrayal nipped at the back of his neck; how could she do this to him? Had his loyalty fallen on unappreciative shoulders? No, that couldn’t be. Satoru knew she was better than that, he picked her for a reason, after all. She was just playing hard to get. 

You rejected my advances and desperate pleas, and now you throw your relationship in my face. It’s punishment enough that I can’t have you, but I won't let you let me down so easily.

Feeling at a loss, swallowed whole by his hungered desperation, he did what any rational person would. He moved in next door.

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.

Satoru Gojo was your next-door neighbor. He moved in only a few months after you did. You were elated, chalking it up to a lucky roll of the dice that you had met by chance at your job; he had started working for the company that shared the office park with yours. It really seemed like things were on the come-up for you. He was kind, confidently intuitive, funny, and supportive. Mildly egotistical, but it worked for him. He always invited you over for dinner and movie nights and was a strong, dependable shoulder for you to cry on. You had just moved to the city, feeling utterly lost and absolutely gutted about being so far from your support systems now, and he was your first friend. You felt safe knowing he was just a wall away. 

On a random Sunday, you opened your front door to see all the food you loved sitting at your doorstep–weird, you were just about to leave for the store. You turned your head, seeing Satoru peeking out from his cracked door, grinning at you. 

“Was this you, Satoru? You didn’t have to…this is incredibly thoughtful,” you beamed, stepping over the grocery bags to give him a tight hug. “You’re the best, I don’t know how I could ever repay you.” But Satoru did, he knew exactly what you could do for him.

When you needed a ride to work, he jumped in to save you. The two of you worked in the same building after all. It was a crazy coincidence that your new neighbor turned best friend worked just a few floors above you. It’s such a small world, isn’t it? But it worked out perfectly for the two of you. 

There was a month where you were short on rent, and there was Satoru, paying the rest on your behalf. 

You weren’t catching on. Sweet, naive girl. Oh, how he loved you. I need to work harder to get her attention.

Satoru was not a patient man, but for you, he would do anything and everything to get you right where he wanted you, expertly playing the long game. It began with the fated sighting of you sitting in a cafe, and snowballed into something bigger. At first, he only ever observed you, maybe the minor occasion of overstepping, but as time went on, he couldn’t sit idly by. It was time to make his move.

His disruptions in your life started inconspicuously. Leaving for a date? You found your car tires slashed and windows shattered in the parking deck. Now there’s a police investigation. Bummer…gotta cancel the date. Had a guy over? Satoru’s apartment flooded. Weird… that was the second time this month. 

“You gotta talk to the landlord about this, ‘Toru,” you sighed. He had to stay at yours that evening. 

You cried on his shoulder, telling him that some guy stood you up on a date you had been anticipating for weeks. There was an electrical fire in that man’s apartment that night. Must’ve been faulty wiring...or something.

His apartment flooded again. He was back at your door. You welcomed him with open arms, of course. He’s so good to you, the least you could do is help him out, as well. 

Satoru, you’re slipping. That’s too many times in one month. Ease up or she’ll catch on.

Friday night, in a wild happenstance, he bumped into you while you were out with another man, enjoying a nice dinner together. He smiled warmly at the two of you, before politely dismissing himself. His cheery smile dropped into a demented grin once he stepped out of the restaurant as he anonymously called in a bomb threat to the establishment. You were so shaken up at the entire ordeal you practically begged Satoru to stay with you that night. He’d be a fool to turn you down.

Satoru got everything he wanted. You were just a tough nut to crack, is all. No big deal. He loved a challenge. After all, how could you not love him by now?

But nothing was working. You couldn’t catch the hint, even with everything he threw at you. He was always the one there for you, even when you weren’t aware of it. What more could he do to prove that he was the only person you needed? I’m reliable, witty, and loving… how can she not see this? He finally snapped. The last straw? Hearing your pleasure-filled cries while getting fucked by another man, your “boyfriend”. The lewd sounds ricocheted around your room, shooting through the thin walls of your apartment and straight into his listening ears.

Tsk, tsk. Now you’ve done it. Always been such a tease. 

For as cocky as he was, it’s oddly fitting. In his mind, everything belonged to him, including you. And with that, his demented plan was in full effect. He had hoped to spare you, prayed that you would fall in love with him before he lost his composure completely. But your sweet, naive nature had proved to be a difficult wall to break down. 

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.

Click

The sound of your front door’s lock disengaging echoed through the empty hallway. Satoru stepped in, inhaling deeply as he shoved your house key into his back pocket. It was far easier to gain access into your home than he had originally anticipated; he was fully prepared to break in, but all he had to do was tell your landlord you went out of town and you forgot to leave a key with him before you left. The manager of your apartment complex knew how close you and Satoru were, so it was an easy lie to tell. But it couldn’t have been further from the truth. You weren’t out of town, he wasn’t house sitting, and you had no intentions of having company this evening.

Seated at your desk, he opened your laptop and navigated his way to your iMessage settings, ensuring you could only send and receive texts from your laptop. Clicking on the messaging app, he stifled the gag that threatened to escape his throat as he clicked on the thread between you and your boyfriend, his contact name “my love” in your phone. He rolled his eyes, before drafting a quick text: 

-Hey, baby. I have a half-day at work today…dinner and wine at my place tonight? ;)

He grinned at the quickness of your boyfriend’s response.

-I would love that. What time, my love?

Satoru scoffed at the pet name. He doesn’t deserve to call you that. Poor bastard needed to learn his place. Heat rose in his chest, jealousy emanating through his skin as he crafted his response.

-3pm…Can’t wait to see you.

Everything was going according to plan. Satoru glanced at the clock beside him: 11:17 AM. It was time to get set up, he had a big day planned for you, and his first guest would be arriving in a few short hours. 

A knock rang through the apartment as Satoru finished lighting his final candle. He smiled wide, sauntering over to the door. He swung it open, grinning politely at your boyfriend. “...Hey, man…didn’t expect to see you here…” he said warily as Satoru stood to the side and gestured him in, a quizzical look painted on your partner’s face as he stepped through the doorway. The door shut and the lock was reengaged. “Where’s…” but before he could get his question out, his chin was met with Satoru’s right fist.

Satoru made quick work of dragging his body upstairs. He dug through the unconscious man’s pants, pulling out his cellphone. Satoru was disgusted to see that you were his lockscreen. This pitiful man wasn’t worthy enough to be with you. He rolled his eyes, unlocking the man’s phone and sending you a text: 

-Hey, beautiful. Come straight home tonight. I’m making dinner for us. See you when you get off work.

You smiled at the familiar ding of your phone, the notification effectively distracting you from your tedious paperwork. Your heart soared at the message, sighing deeply and shifting your weight around in your office chair. Your hand rubbed at your face in an attempt to hide your blushing cheeks. 

“What is it?” your coworker asked. 

“Oh, nothing. I thought my boyfriend forgot our anniversary cause I hadn’t heard from him all day…but he just texted me saying he’s at my place and is making dinner for us tonight.” A giddy smile couldn’t help but drag across your face. 

Satoru looked at the clock: 3:28 PM. You would be home in an hour or so. Just a few more things had to be done, everything had to be perfect.

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.

Your heart rate spiked as you got closer to your apartment door, keys jingling against your palm as you fumbled with the lock, excitement making your movements a bit clumsier than usual. You entered and kicked off your heels, and as you turned to toss your keys onto the small table in your foyer, you noticed a small card that said “Read Me” placed perfectly in the center of the tray. You were perplexed as your eyes scanned over the note. “Go to the living room” was all it said.

You blushed, a nervous smile pulling at the edge of your lips as you crept to the other room. Your eyes went wide at the sight; deep red roses were placed in the center of the coffee table and every accessible surface around the couch was adorned with beautifully flickering candles. Another note was on the table, your fingers fumbled with the edge of the card as you opened it: “Have a seat, take a sip, and press play.” You settled on the couch, noticing a glass of alluring red wine to the right of the roses. You took a few deep, fulfilling swigs of your drink before grabbing the TV remote. Your face twisted a bit, examining the glass in your hand, the flavor of wine different than the one you were used to. It was a special night after all, your thoughtful boyfriend must have wanted you to branch out this evening. Where is he, anyway? As you pressed play, you called out for him, only to be cut off by your own confusion as Satoru’s face appeared on your TV screen. You watched with perplexity as Satoru recentered his chair, smiled, relaxed his face, and then smiled again.

No…no, no, no. What is this? You were locked in place, the melodious sounds of Satoru’s voice cascaded out of your surround sound system. He looked different though, his eyes were dull and low, his voice monotonous–his alarming difference in demeanor sent a chill down your spine. Your groggy mind inferred that this must’ve been an accident. Maybe it was casted to the wrong TV. I shouldn’t be seeing this…these are Satoru’s video diaries. 

You so badly wanted to tear your eyes away from the screen, this seemed like such an invasion of privacy. But you were entranced, staring intently toward the TV, though you didn’t really have a choice, your body was completely numb now. 

“January 16th, 4:06 AM

I woke up drenched in the feeling of lethargy again—another night of only an hour’s worth of sleep. Nothing feels real when you hit a certain point…” you fought to keep your eyes open, to piece together what the hell was happening, until your body eventually succumbed to sleep.

When you finally came to, you were laid out on your bed, fully nude. Soft grunts lingered in the air as you worked your hardest to refocus your eyes, your head pounding. You shifted your weight onto your forearms, your neck straining as it felt like your brain was filled with lead, eyes searching your bedroom for the culprit of the moans. One glance to the left, a quick look to the right, before you stared straight ahead at the wall directly across from the bed. Your body lurched in fear as your heart sank, the source of the sounds now looking you dead in the eyes: The man you had been seeing for the past couple of months, gagged and tied to a chair, his bloodied face twisted up in agony. 

You tried to call out for him. Your feeble attempts to drag your heavy body closer in order to console him were interrupted as the room was suddenly illuminated with the streaming lights of a projector. Your movements halted as you shielded your eyes immediately, the bright interruption feeling like a flashbang to your sensitive head. 

“We didn’t get to finish my show and tell,” a voice spoke up from the dark corner. 

“Satoru?? Wha…what is going on?” you cried out, tears spilling from your eyes while your hands attempted to cover your modesty. You tried your hardest to sit upright, your head spinning, unsure if Satoru was the culprit or your savior. Your body felt like it was anchored to the floor, your head throbbing with every word that tore through your chest. 

“There’s no need for all that yelling, sweetheart,” Satoru grinned, crouching down next to you. You winced as his hand cupped the side of your face, his thumb brushing away the tears that trickled down your cheeks. 

Click

Metal cuffs clamped down on your wrists before you could even register what was happening. A million unanswered questions spun through the room as you frantically searched through his blue eyes, hoping to find any sort of insight into the torment he was inflicting upon the two of you. 

“This is what’s gonna happen, okay? I need you to listen to me.” His voice was sickeningly sweet, each syllable that left his lips more damning than the last as he dragged your limp body up the bed, securing your wrists to the headboard and angling your body toward the projected video on your wall. A crazed grin lit up his dull face as he raised his hand, pointing the remote toward the projector. “You’re gonna sit here and look all pretty f’me while you watch these tapes, and if you move, if you stop paying attention for even a second…” Your stomach churned at how gently he was able to give such vile instructions. He turned his attention towards your partner, the blade of a knife twirling through the slender fingers of his free hand, “...He’s dead. Understand, angel?” 

You nodded reluctantly, unable to do anything else but comply with his demands. Your head was spinning, trying to digest the fact that this was the same person who had paid your rent and entertained your rants after a hard day of work. You listened as his voice continued to drabble over the static of the projector, recalling how bland that day had been until he saw your face. How he must’ve dreamt of you because there was no way your beauty could exist outside of his imagination. To you, it had been a normal Tuesday afternoon. To him, it had been the start of the rest of his life. 

The longer you watched, the more the realization set in that the sweet gestures he presented to you were not out of the goodness of his heart, but from the darkness of his spirit, driven by his wanton lust. Your face was slack, eyes wide in horror. Disappointment crawled through your chest at your own naivety. How could I be so oblivious? So trusting? 

Satoru’s eyes bored into the side of your face as he sat beside you, his hands rubbing deep circles into your bare thighs, pure elation shooting through his veins at his sweet girl finally having a look into his mind. The look of terror that painted your beautiful face made his heart leap with joy. Satoru’s giddy demeanor dropped as pained grunts emerged from the tethered man against the wall. He stood, closing the distance between the two of them, his fist encircling your boyfriend’s throat. You began to protest, to plead with Satoru to leave him be, but the rage that filled his eyes made you shut your mouth. “Uh uh…eye’s on the screen, my love.” Your head snapped back toward the videos, fat tears rolling down your cheeks as the muffled wailing of your boyfriend filled the room. 

As the final video played, Satoru returned to your side, kneeling on the edge of the bed as he  stroked the back of your head and rubbed at your cheeks. “Can’t you see all that I’ve done for you?” He grabbed your face, digging his fingers deep into the space under your cheekbones, forcing your lips into a pucker. “You belong to me, my love.” A deep growl rumbled through his chest, “You look so fucking beautiful like this.” He leaned down and crashed his lips into yours, his hot tongue bullying its way through your tight lips. Small whines echoed through your mouth and into his, and Satoru greedily swallowed up your sounds with ease. Whimpers of protest came from the wall across from your bed, but they were quickly drowned out by the wet sounds of smacking lips and battling tongues.

He broke away, a thick trail of spit still connecting the two of you. Satoru released your cheeks with a gentle shove, throwing his leg over yours to straddle you. He dropped his head to your neck, his white hair brushing against your skin. You winced as he licked a thick line from your collarbone to your ear. “I finally get to have you,” he whispered, nipping at your flesh, “You ready to give yourself to me, princess?” Your eyes widened in horror, your gaze affixed towards your boyfriend, blood trickling from the fresh cuts on his cheeks. Your head shook side to side, tears brimming in your eyes once more as your thoughts raced through your mind, causing a traffic jam in your throat. “I…no, I can’t…he’s…” Satoru’s palm covered your mouth, a groan erupting from the back of his throat as his eyes rolled deep into his skull. He sat back, staring down at you, his free hand running its fingertips between your breasts. “This has nothing to do with him…It’s just me and you now, my love.” Your head snapped up to stare at your captor as the rough pads of his fingers brushed over your nipples. A stifled moan teased the back of your throat, an exasperated look of fear in your eyes as you stared up at Satoru.

Your cheeks flushed as you held his gaze. He grinned back down at you before rolling the hardened bud between his fingertips. Your chest arched toward him, a shameful hum dancing from your lips as he played with you. A deep laugh erupted from the blue-eyed man at your unintentional reaction, his head thrown back with pure joy as he continued to pull at your nipples. He leaned into your neck once more, his teeth grazing the outer shell of your ear. “I knew it,” he purred, “Knew you wanted me, too. You were just playing hard to get, isn’t that right?” You shook your head once more, your words constricted in your chest. “N-no…I never wanted you,” you retorted, head thrown to the side, attempting to distance yourself from him, but to no avail. The weight of him anchored your lower half to the mattress while your tethered wrists held you in place.

A deep chuckle rumbled through Satoru, “So if I feel your pussy, it won’t be absolutely soaked right now?” A pathetic whimper escaped your throat as you shook your head furiously. The rolling motion against your nipples halted and his hand trailed lower down your abdomen. “Hmm…let’s see then, shall we?” he taunted, tracing your skin before rubbing your folds and dipping into your core. “I knew it…you’re fucking drenched f’me, sweetheart.” He shoved two fingers in, shallowly teasing your hole before withdrawing, bringing his sopping digits between your faces, turning his wrist as the dim light of the room illuminated the wetness, making it glisten ever so slightly. He examined them before meeting your fearful gaze. “Why did you lie?” He sucked his middle digit into his mouth, his tongue lapping hungrily at your sweet juices as his eyes fluttered shut. A hum emanated from Satoru as his other soaked finger pushed past your lips, “Here, have a taste, pretty girl,” his long digit dancing around your tongue. “So fucking sweet. You have no idea how badly I’ve been craving this.” 

“I’ll ask you again, princess…Why’d you lie to me? I thought you were better than that,” he teased, an insincere pout twitching at his lips as he cradled your chin. Your body thrashed as his hands pawed down your body, plunging two fingers deep inside you again. Your back arched toward him, his knee between your legs was the only thing keeping you open for him. “I…It wasn’t..ahh!– I wasn’t lying…I–”. Your words fell on deaf ears as a wicked smile crept across Satoru’s face.

“Shhh…shhh my sweet girl, just lay back and enjoy,” he smirked as he crawled down your body, laying himself flat on the bed with his head nestled between your legs. Satoru’s body no longer shielded you from your boyfriend, your teary eyes darted across his face, a silent apology being sent his way. Small gasps escaped your lips as Satoru continued to pump into you, the tips of his curled fingers toying with your sweet spot. When you stared down at him, the look of pure desire peered back at you, the dampness between your legs skyrocketing at the sight. A scarlet dusting of shame brushed across your cheeks at your clear enjoyment of all this, even though it betrayed every natural instinct you had. His tongue darted out from between his lips, the tip circling your swollen clit as his fingers dipped in and out of you, his movements spurred on by his own desperation.

He was delirious, suckling against your clit while his fingers worked into you with fervor, moans and growls echoing through the room as he drank you in. You so badly wanted to break away, to console your boyfriend who had an unintentional front row seat to you falling apart on someone else’s tongue, but you couldn't bring yourself to stop him, his digits hitting spots inside you that you didn’t even know existed. Pleasure ripped through your body as a tightening sensation crept its way into your stomach. The rattling of your cuffs echoed through your bedroom as you fought against your restraints, desperately wanting to tangle your fingers in Satoru’s hair.

Your hips bucked toward his mouth, your body aching for release as your pelvis thrusted against his flattened tongue. You didn’t dare look away from Satoru, for you knew there was another set of eyes affixed upon the damning scene that was unfolding. He continued to hum and suck and pump into your core as you tightened around him, his slender fingers quickly coaxing your orgasm from your writhing body. Your eyes screwed shut as your gushy walls spasmed around his fingers, your release painting Satoru’s overly-eager face. He lapped at you some more, working you through your orgasm as he cleaned you up with his wickedly talented tongue. 

A deep growl broke through Satoru’s chest as he removed his head from between your legs, the back of his hand dragging across his chin, catching the last of your release before he licked you off of him. He sat upright, craning his neck to look over his shoulder, “Hope you were taking notes,” a smug grin on his face as he addressed your watching boyfriend. He redirected his attention to you. “Did so good f’me, angel. Dreamt of that for so long…” he grinned, his tongue darting out to trace along his lips, hoping there was still some of you coating his face “...I could do that all fuckin’ day.” 

Your shaking chest heaved as clarity settled into your mind. Satoru untethered your wrists from the headboard, shifting your body so that you were on your hands and knees, head positioned toward the wall your partner was leaning against. Strangled sounds rang from your boyfriend’s chest as you finally met his gaze. Humiliation prickling under your skin at the realization of what you had just done. But you had no time to dwell on it as Satoru repositioned himself on the bed.

“He’s gonna watch me destroy you, my sweet girl,” Satoru was kneeled behind you, lining himself up with your embarrassingly soaked entrance. He grasped your hips roughly, sinking into you in one fluid motion. You choked out a sob as you dropped your head in shame.

“You’re so pretty when you cry. He can’t help you…can’t save you. Go ‘head, keep cryin’ for him,” he cooed, his thrusts deep and slow inside of you. Jagged moans escaped your throat as the thick head of his cock brushed into your sweet spot. “He can’t make you feel as good as I do.”

He leaned down, reaching around to cradle your throat in his hand, squeezing tightly as he turned your head to the side, his sharp eyes running up and down your contorted face. “Can’t you see that you belong to me, how my poor heart aches for you? How badly I’ve needed you?” His thrusts were agonizingly slow but incredibly deep, the pressure in your tummy betraying your desire for this to stop. “That’s it, my love. Feel you clenching down on me…you’re getting off on this, aren’t ya?” His hips rocked deeper into you, the new depth had your hands clawing at the sheets of your bed as pleasure worked its way through your trembling body.

“He doesn’t treat you the way I do. He never will. No one is better for you than me, princess,” he seethes, his hand cupping your chin, holding your head up, “Now look in his eyes while I use you.” His pace picked up, pulling you back on to him with his anchored hand around your neck. A broken sob cut through your constricted throat as he fucked into you, the visceral sound of flesh smacking against flesh and whines and cries spun through the otherwise stiff air of your room. He palmed at the fat of your ass, pulling your body to meet his rough thrusts. A choked cry left your lips as you maintained eye contact with your boyfriend, crimson droplets running down his face, mimicking the pattern of your tears. You mouthed a silent “I’m sorry” to him before your eyes shut tightly, waves of sinful bliss pulsed through your body with every mean thrust of Satoru’s hips.

“Gettin’ so tight around me–f-fuuuck–you’re close, huh?” Your face contorted in shameful pleasure as you nodded, your back arching even more to take him deeper. “That’s it…c’mon, my love. Need you to cum on my cock,” Satoru begged, his voice airy as he got lost in your tight, sopping walls. “Show me how good I make you feel.” His words ricocheted around your head as the building pressure in your stomach finally snapped, your legs shaking violently as your orgasm ripped through your body, splattering onto Satoru’s thighs and the mattress below you. 

A few more strokes met your dripping center before Satoru bottomed out inside of you, thick ropes of his pearlescent seed painting your spasming walls. He finally released his tight grip around your throat, your head dropping immediately as indignity plagued your trembling frame. He pulled out, spreading your cheeks as he leaned down, an animalistic growl pulling from his chest as he watched his cum dribble out of your pussy. 

Satoru rubbed soothing circles into your lower back as you worked to regain your breath. “You’re mine,” he whispered. He unlatched the restraints from around your wrists, a coy smile tugging at the corners of his mouth at the purple bruises that marked your skin. He locked eyes with your boyfriend, a deranged smile dancing across his face as he reached for the discarded projector remote. 

Another familiar voice flooded through the speaker, but this time it wasn’t Satoru’s. “...We broke up a few weeks ago. No, no. Really, it’s okay. She was kind of a bitch anyway.” Your pupils widened as you stared back at the man you had just been feeling sorry for minutes ago, rage mixing into the vast sea of emotions you were already feeling while you watched a grainy video of him snaking his arm around another woman’s waist. The two of them were laughing outside of his house before she leaned in to kiss him. 

“My poor sweet girl.” Satoru’s hand brushed lightly against your cheeks, catching tears that you didn’t even realize had begun spilling out. “I didn’t want you to have to find out this way, but I didn’t have much of a choice, did I?”

There were a million other ways he could have broken the news to you, but that somehow wasn’t the most pressing issue at hand. 

“An eye for an eye, right?” The same haunting grin that you’d grown to know all too well spread across his face again, his blue eyes slicing into your ex-boyfriend’s. “I can’t believe that my entire world was in the hands of someone so undeserving…” he redirected his attention back to you and recaptured your cheeks in his hands. He leaned down to meet your gaze, unexpected softness replacing his usual sinister demeanor. “What do we do now, baby? It’s your call.”

Your pulse was ringing through your ears. “My call?” your voice was reduced to a whisper as you repeated it back to him. 

“I’m going to kill him either way, but I want you to tell me how.”

You pondered for a moment, still coming to terms with the chain of events that lead you to this one vengeful moment. 

Satoru stood, sauntering over to your boyfriend, stooping down to his level while his hands hovered over his gag. “When I take this off, I don’t want to hear anything other than remorse come from that pathetic fuckin’ mouth of yours.” Your boyfriend’s eyes shifted towards you, then back to Satoru, as he nodded pitifully. The tie was pulled from his mouth. His words were broken, barely audible. “I’m -” he choked out. “I’m sorry, I -”

Your stomach lurched as a sharp smack met his cheek, the painful sound resonating through the room. “You can do better than that. You got one more try,” Satoru spat, his eyes burning into your ex-lover’s bloodied face as he wrapped his fist around his throat, jostling his head around in a fit of rage. 

“Satoru,” you hardly recognized your tone let alone the thoughts that were racing through your head. The last few hours of your life had been a blur. The words you heard earlier made perfect sense now, “Nothing feels real when you hit a certain point.” You were officially at that point. “Satoru, don’t. Let’s just end this.”

It was the first time you’d ever seen the silver-haired man look surprised. His eyebrow raised, a mix of curiosity and amusement glinting in his eye. “Tell me how,” he repeated. “I need to hear you say it.” 

You were in a dream. Nothing more than a figment of Satoru’s imagination, just like he had said. It was the only thing that made sense to you because there was no way any of this was actually happening. 

“Rip his heart out,” your voice emotionless as you gazed toward the blue-eyed man. Satoru groaned deeply, his dick twitching at the sound of your pretty voice speaking his dark language. The same depraved grin pulled at the edge of his lips as he looked back at your ex. 

“Well,” he smirked, “looks like it’s decided then…” Adoration swam through his ocean eyes as he looked back at you, “I knew I picked the right one.”

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.

Click

The lock of your front door unbolted as your bodies pushed through the door frame, giggling as four glasses of wine danced through your systems. Satoru wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you into a deep, passionate kiss. “Happy anniversary, my love,” he mumbled against your lips. His hands grasped yours as he led you toward the couch. 

You nestled into the warmth of his chest, his arm secured around you while you gazed around the room. Your head spun from the wine-induced nostalgia that this day had inevitably brought on. You were still in the same apartment, only it belonged to both of you now. A blend of sentimental gifts decorated your bookshelf that the two of you had collected over the last year. A camcorder, pressed red roses, framed vacation photos, and the first set of diamond earrings he’d bought you stowed away in a heart-shaped jewelry box. But out of all of the memories that tied you together, there was one that stood out the most. 

“Should we open it?” you whispered, drawing lazy circles into his shoulder.

You didn’t have to see his face to feel his smirk. He knew his girl and he knew her well. He stood wordlessly, retrieving a jar from the highest shelf. He presented it to you, a smug grin gracing his ethereal features, the same look that was permanently etched into your brain the night he got it for you. 

“Be my guest, princess.” You unscrewed the lid, peering into the jar as the strong scent of formaldehyde tickled your nose. You smiled longingly into the container, the overwhelming feeling of love reverberating through your chest. There was something so beautifully poetic about Satoru’s limerence, the lengths at which he went to steal the heart of another in order to fully possess yours. 

author note: im so sorry for not posting my sweets,, i had the worst case of writer's block and i was actively trying to work on six different WIPs...i was losing my mind.

this was quite the heavy fic to write...i hope i didn't scare anyone away with it lol

alsoooo!! sending out the biggest thank you to @remlionheart for forcing me to finish this...my editor, my co-writer, the love of my life ♡ ⋆｡˚

© bratbby333 on tumblr. all rights reserved. please do no distribute. 2024.

[canthelpit0]

Silent

Pairing: Matt x reader

Wordcount: 1.8k +

Summary: you’ve always quietly watched the triplets, silently wishing you could be a part of a group like them. Until you and Matt talk for the first time…

Warnings: selective mutism, anxiety, crying, angst, praise, no use of y/n, no oc

(Disclaimer: I’m not mute in any way. This was a request from an anon that I accidentally deleted. Hope you like it ! Requests are open)

I developed selective mutism pretty early on. My mom says that I didn’t talk even back in kindergarten.

But it’s been years now.

I can talk, and I can’t shut the fuck up for the life of me. I talk a lot, even have full conversations with myself.

Just not at school, or around new people. God, especially not in school.

It’s not like I want to be the ‘ weird’ mute kid. I would love to talk and make friends, I just physically can’t open my mouth and talk.

It even took months for me to utter simple words to my therapist, tho by this point I’ve known her for years and I’m pretty comfortable.

There are these triplets in my grade. We’ve always gone to the same school, but I don’t think they ever noticed me.

Well the first time I noticed them was in first grade, because there were three of them. Of corse my six year old self didn’t understand the concept of multiples back then, and I really wanted to ask, and talk to them. I really thought they were cool.

The first time I interacted with any of them tho was when I was in fourth grade and Nick had asked to use my dark green pencil since he only had light green and needed both dark and light.

Back in fourth grade I wasn’t just selectively mute, but also really shy. So I’d just looked down and stared at the desk giving him a small nod.

In freshmen year I shared a class with Nick again, he asked me for a pen, wich I gave to him.

Despite not having talked to him once in my entire life, he remembered my name. Wich isn’t too shocking since we’ve always been around each other, I was just kinda in the shadows.

He actually gave me that pen back. Most other people would’ve forgotten and just taken it, but Nick didn’t and I appreciated that.

I only ever interacted with Nick those two times. despite sharing a few classes with both Chris and Matt over the years, I’ve probably never even held eye contact with either of them.

I’ve been watching everyone.

Bullying isn’t really a thing. Sure there were some hurtful comments by jocks here and there but it really wasn’t as bad as in the movies.

Besides I think most people forget i even exist so they don’t even bother bullying me.

I’ve had my eye on Matt for a while. Not in a weird way. But Matt seems to pretty obviously have anxiety too. I don’t know if he’s open about it, I’m not in his friend circle.

But every time I’m feeling overwhelmed and we’re in the same room, I unconsciously glance at him to see if he feels the same or if I’m just going crazy.

Chris seems to be the loudest and most extroverted one. And while yes, Nick seems pretty extroverted too, Chris seems more… random? Bold?

I sulk in the back of the class my lips pulled into a tight line as I try to get myself together.

There is literally no reason for me to be feeling like this. Honestly no one has tried to talk to me today, nothing happened, I just feel so overwhelmed.

I raise my hand just slightly. I make eye contact with the teacher. Mrs. Evans. I literally love her, she’s so kind.

Her son is apparently mute too.

When I was diagnosed with selective mutism they thought it’d be a great idea to make me learn sign language just in case, and that’s just what I did.

Since Mrs. Evans son is mute, her son, as well as her and her husband also learned sign language.

So whenever I needed something I could sign to her. Not that I wouldn’t be too embarrassed too.

Our eyes lock. Everyone was working on some paper I should also be doing, but I’m too busy hyperventilating.

I let my hand drop on my desk and glance at the door quietly asking if I can go to the nurses office since I was too tired and ashamed to sign it to her.

She gives me a pitying smile but nods. I hate pity, but then again that’s better than getting told im faking.

I look around the class of students. I get up, as quiet as I can. I pack up my little stuff and quietly walk to the front of the class. I nod in appreciation and walk outside.

I stare at the ground while I walk down the hallway. I sigh.

I feel my eyes start to water and I bite the inside of my cheek.

Honestly I should probably go to the nurses office to get checked out, just so I can leave. But I don’t think I can handle communicating with another human.

I feel like I’m about to break down. I continue to walk down the hallway clutching the straps of my bag harshly.

I consider if driving home even is a good idea seeing as I’m about to have a mental breakdown. Or-

Suddenly I bump into someone.

I close my eyes trying not to cry right then. I don’t know who I bumped into but I want to apologize, but I know that I can’t, and since I don’t know who I bumped into I don’t know if it’s someone who’ll be mean about it or-

I’m taken off guard by a gentle brush to my upper arm.

“You’re good, it’s okay” I hear a soft voice say. I can feel my lip quivering, I feel like if I open my eyes the tears brimming at my waterline will actually fall.

“can you open your eyes?” It sounds more like a question, and that voice sounds painfully familiar but I can’t quite place it.

I want to tell him that I can’t, that I’ll cry if I do and I’ll feel even more embarrassed. But my curiosity takes over me.

So I slightly blink open my eyes. I don’t open my eyes fully, just enough to see the person through my tears.

It’s Matt, looking down at me all concerned.

I blink my eyes open. at the sight I watch his expression relax just slightly.

He himself looks overwhelmed, and honestly I don’t know if it’s because of how I’m acting, or if he had a shitty day himself.

“You okay?” He sighs slightly. I watch as he licks his lips and swallows thickly.

I take in another deep breath trying to calm down. I nod just slightly, but while I do the tears in my eyes finally spill.

I feel my hot tears run down my face. Matt’s eyes immediately widen and his mouth opens slightly like he thinks it’s his fault.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, no please don’t cry.” He holds up his hands in front of my face as if he wanted to wipe my tears away but was holding himself back because he didn’t know my boundaries.

He looked miserable, like he was about to cry himself. And I just know that something this wouldn’t have him emotional like this on a normal day. At least I don’t think it would. But he seemed to be overwhelmed as well.

I scrunch my nose slightly sniffling in response. I glance back up at him and the sorrow in his eyes makes me want to sink into myself. I breathe out shakily.

Before I know it I’m bringing my hands up to my face and covering it. I tilt my head forward trying to stop crying, because crying in the school halls is just pathetic.

“I’m sorry. Fuck- can I touch you?” I hear his frantic voice. I appreciate that he asked first. I want a hug, but then again I don’t know Matt. But he just seems so genuine.

I overthink not responding to his question. My thoughts spiral at the sound of the sweet nothings and apologies leaving his mouth, only being back round noise.

Matt seems to notice that I’m starting to spiral. I feel his hand tenderly touch my wrist. I flinch slightly, and as soon as I do I feel him retract his hand.

Everybody deals with anxiety differently, some people like to be physically grounded others liked to be comforted some other way and I just knew that Matt was trying to figure out what to do without overstepping.

I’d tell him that it’s okay, or that he can hug me, but I literally can’t speak and I feel too embarrassed to let him see my teary face.

“I’m sorry, I’m-“ I hear Matt let out a breath. I know an anxiety breath when I hear one, he is panicking.

I decide to bite the bullet, what’s the worst that can happen. I look up slightly and peak through my fingers.

His hands are up and frozen. He looks almost frantic, Matt looks like the only way he knows how to ground me is by hugging me or something, but he seems unsure if that’s okay.

Despite myself I let out a little nod. Matt lets out another breath but this time he actually touches me, and I don’t flinch.

He holds my wrist and gently pulls my hands off of my face.

I let out a shaky sigh. I can’t help it when I let my head fall forward.

“It’s okay.” He says sweetly under his breath. He puts his hand under my chin as he picks my face up. Our eyes lock. I see the way Matt is also crying, tears running down his face too and I relax just a little.

He never seemed like the type to make fun of someone for crying, but especially not now.

“You wanna go to my car?” He says softly, not in a way where he is forcing me to do anything, but rather offering.

And honestly as upset as i am I have to weigh my options. Would I rather cry in the school hallways or in Matt’s car?

The best option would be to go to the bathroom, but Matt wouldn’t be able to come with, and honestly I would feel too bad leaving him alone at this point.

So I nod.

I feel Matt’s arm go around my shoulders as he hugs me for a moment. He turns me, and starts walking in a way where his arm is still around my shoulder keeping me close to him.

We walk out to the parking lot. I watch as Matt unlocks the car and opens the door for me to enter.

And by this point, if I go out this way so be it…

Before i can even register Matt is also getting into the backseat next to me.

We just look at each other for a moment. He breathes out another anxiety sigh.

“You want a hug?” And with that I don’t really know if he’s asking for me, or to comfort himself. But regardless I nod.

I feel his arms come around me and I sink into the feeling of his hug.

I’m uncertain if by tomorrow he’ll act like this all never happened, or if he’ll try to get to know me, because I’ve been wanting to know him for a while and I would more then gladly let him.

Masterlist

A/n: I know this is really short and I’ve been uploading a lot of angst recently. But I’ve been feeling sad, and every time I do write smut it’s for Kinktober. Soon you’ll get smut tho. Also this ended up a lot like crybaby. <3

‼️please don’t copy my work/idea‼️

Taglist: @muwapsturniolo , @sturnad , @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 , @evie-sturns , @me09love , @fratbrochrisgf , @spideylovin , @chrissgirlsstuff , @stunza , @whicked-hazlatwhore , @sturniooolos , @ecliphttlunar , @orangeypepsi , @klaus223492 , @char112244 , @sst7niolo , @slut4chriss , @mattsturniololoverr , @th3-3d3n-g4rd3n , @st7rnioioss , @t1llysblogs , @nonat-111 , @blahbel668 , @rockstarchr1s , @sturnsintrouble , @nayveetbhh , @tillies33ssss , @sturncakez , @strnilo , @somegirlfromasgard , @mattslovelygf , @sturnsmaeve , @sturnstvr , @lucianastrun , @jnkvivi , @jamiesturniolo , @chr1sgirl4life

[quinnyundertow]

Picking up the Pieces

For my bby Choso

MANGA SPOILERS BELOW

Angst with a happy ending, Hurt/Comfort

1,800 Words

Summary:

The fight with Sukuna has finally ended. Before he’s wisked off the battlefield the boy named Yuji begs you to try and save what’s left of his older brother.

AN:

I have been drowning in writers block. The manga has me so damn depressed and the one I want to live most right now is our baby Choso. He deserves to live that domestic life he never got to feel. Best big brother ever.

Picking up the Pieces

Choso had thought for sure he had died. No he definitely died. He had protected his little brother with his life. There wasn’t a more noble way to die. Now his brother would have the chance to thrive and grow old. Find a first love, have his first kiss, buy his first home. Have children that would have called him uncle Chocho. Never mind that Choso never had the chance to do any of those things either. Yuji would have the chance that he never did; and that made it all worthwhile.

“I’ve got you, just hold on.” Someone is talking to him. The voice is what he imagines angels sound like. Do curses get to go to heaven? Maybe death won’t be so bad. “Don’t you dare die on me.”

He’s so tired. More tired than he’s ever been in his existence. A part of him is annoyed you keep shaking him awake. Just let him rest for a minute. “Yuji needs you, so you can’t give up yet.”

Yuji? Who’s Yuji and why did he-? Yuji. Yuji! He takes a gasping breath in as his chest keeps getting harshly pushed on. He doesn’t know what CPR is but it’s painful. You keep pushing against his broken ribs. Don’t you know that’s excruciating? Wait, what about Yuji? “Yuji?” The words come out strangled and almost too low to hear.

“Holy shit you’re alive.” Your voice breaks with a mixture of relief and joy. “We're not out of the woods yet but damn it but we’ll get there!”

He tries to ask for Yuji again but all that escapes is a hacking cough from all the smoke he inhaled during his fight with Sukuna.

Thankfully, you somehow manage to understand and respond accordingly, “Oh, right. Yeah, Yuji is okay. Better than okay. Well I mean they rushed him to Shoko, our healer, but he’s gonna be okay. He’s not a vessel anymore. They won. I don’t know how they pulled it off but they won.”

The wave of relief that washes over him is visible. Your voice is coming in a little panicked now, “Woah, woah, woah! Nope! Yuji is okay but he still needs you. When they rushed him off he was asking for you. He begged me to save you. Said you’re the best big brother in the world.” Your tone warbles and his face feels wet. At least he thinks it does. Are you crying? Why are you crying? He’s a curse. You’re presumably one of Yuji’s companions, a sorcerer. Shouldn’t you want him dead? He’s straining to try and make out your features but you look like a shadow on a curtain or static on a tv. Are his eyes even open? Does it matter? He feels so nice, so warm. You’re cradling him and he can’t help but wonder if this is what his mothers love would have felt like. If his father wasn’t a rapist and if he hadn’t been born a monster.

“Shit, shit, shit. I’m losing him again!” Your voice is shrill and screaming as you wake him up again. You’re yelling names he doesn’t know, “Nitta! Nitta!” The sound is fading out. He can’t hear anything now. That’s alright. It’s perfect to go back to sleep to. He’s so warm and lovingly held. Just a little nap, well..maybe a long one. A nice long sleep.

~~

“I’ve got you, just hold on.” Your fingers keep slipping as you’re trying to do chest compressions. There’s just so much blood. The entire area reeks of it. Blood, smoke, dust. Smells of a battlefield. His pulse is so slow you’re not sure if it’s stopped or not. “Don’t you dare die on me.” This was bad. The worst you’ve ever seen. His body is so burnt and mutilated at this point he isn’t able to regenerate like a curse normally would. You try to infuse him with your cursed energy but it’s like his body doesn’t know what to do with it. It’s trying to shut down and you’re here telling it to work harder.

You can’t give up though. You’ve barely met the man in front of you but you know Yuji. As Shoko rushed Yuji off the battlefield his eyes had met yours. Choso’s name on his lips, his eyes a plea. “Please, Cho- tell him he’s the best big brother I could have asked for.”

The pain in Yuji’s eyes had been so raw. So visceral. Not even knowing what you were agreeing to you had yelled to Yuji, “I’ll do everything I can!”

So here you are. You aren’t sure if your reverse curse is even doing anything at this point. There are so many disconnected pieces of tissue. Blood vessels and veins so destroyed there is nothing left to repair. Nowhere for your technique to start. You can’t create something from nothing. He’s not breathing. Chest compressions. You’re throwing all the strength you have left into them. You vaguely remember someone saying you should push to the beat of “Staying Alive”. The song feels inappropriate in your head but it helps your timing. At least you hope it does.

The curse lying on the ground has given everything for his brother. Now you need him to live for himself. Grunting with exertion you manage to say, “Yuji needs you, so you can’t give up yet.”

When the corpse in front of you gasps you’re momentarily stunned. When are you supposed to stop chest compressions? Now? He’s hacking and you're trying to help him clear his airway. You're shocked he has an airway. Sukuna had practically obliterated him with flames. His lips are moving. You feel your cursed energy finally managed to find something inside of him it can work with.

Hands under his underarms, you pull. He’s not as heavy as you expected. Of course he isn't, he doesn't have anything left below the knees. You’ve managed to get his head resting on your thighs as you sit in the crumbling city turned battleground. He manages to croak out one word. “Yuji?” The word comes out strangled and almost too low to hear.

“Holy shit you’re alive.” Your voice breaks with a mixture of relief and joy. He would ask about his brother when he’s the one who is holding on by a thread. “We're not out of the woods yet but damn it we’ll get there!”

He’s giving this terrifying sounding cough that’s more liquid than air; but to cough means he has something there to cough with. His eyes open and his pupils are unfocused and blown. They don’t respond at all to light.

His brows are furrowing in panic when you don’t immediately respond, “Oh, right. Yeah, Yuji is okay. Better than okay. Well I mean they rushed him to Shoko, our healer but he’s gonna be okay. He’s not a vessel anymore. They won. I don’t know how they pulled it off but they won.”

His lip somehow manages to curl into a hint of a smile. He must not be able to feel any pain due to all the adrenaline. He’s relaxing against you and his eyes are closing. “Woah, woah, woah! Nope! Yuji is okay but he still needs you. When they rushed him off he was asking for you. He begged me to save you. Said you’re the best big brother in the world.” Your tone warbles and you’re yelling at yourself to hold it together. Tears fall from your visage on to his. You want to at least comfort him in his potential final moments.

Your hands go to rest on his cheeks. Your fingers lightly caressing him as you continue to give everything you have left in yourself to heal him. You brush his dark sweaty bangs off his forehead. His eyes open partially again staring into the sky. He’s rejecting your cursed energy again. “Shit, shit, shit. I’m losing him again!” You have to make an executive decision. You had been trying to give him the strength to kickstart his own regenerative capabilities but there’s not enough energy in him anymore to utilize it. You have to stop the bleeding. You have to sacrifice his legs below the knee if he’s going to survive. Rather than regrow the limbs like he normally would you focus purely on closing every open wound you can find. FUCK. Where is Shoko? Where is Arata Nitta? Someone? Anyone? There are too many wounded and dying. Not enough healers. Never enough healers.

A streak of platinum blonde hair in the distance catches your gaze, “Nitta! Nitta!” He was one of your underclassmen before you graduated. The Kyoto school is small enough to where everyone knows everyone. Nita’s looking for you in the rubble, unable to tell where your voice is coming from at first. “Arata!” His eyes lock on yours and he’s sprinting through the chaos. He looks like a track star the way he’s jumping building detritus like they’re hurdles.

He’s leaning over you trying to find where you are bleeding from but it’s all Choso’s blood. At least you think it is. “Can you help him?” Nitta’s face jerks down to what he had thought was a corpse in your arms.

He’s shaking his head no but he’s doing the movements for his technique. It won’t heal the curse hybrid but it will buy him time and at this point you’ll take anything you can get.

There’s a sharp tug in your gut as your cursed energy feels like it’s suddenly being siphoned out of you. You originally couldn’t find any of Choso’s energy to help him. Now large lifesaving gulps of your cursed energy flow into the man fighting for his life on your lap. You gasp in pain as you try to limit the amount of energy you are giving out at once. Choso’s not even conscious but instinctually his body is struggling like it’s drowning and you're the life preserver.

Nitta looks panicked, “He’s going to kill you!” You can’t afford to pass out now there are so many more people that need healing. Choso is unconsciously pulling you under with him. “This is a curse. It feeds off our kind. He’ll take from you until there’s nothing left.”

Shit. You feel like you’re going to faint. Choso’s eyelids are fluttering, they open as if seeing you for the first time. He’s clearly still delirious as his onyx eyes look at you confused. You visibly flinch, a groan in pain leaving you as he takes more of your energy. Understanding clicks in his brain and the rapid siphoning of your energy abruptly stops. Nitta is calling your name.

Nitta tries to pull you away from Choso so he can’t cling to your energy again, but you refuse to budge. You're not sure if Choso is even conscious despite his eyes jerkily roaming your face. Caressing Choso’s brow, you lean over him. Your lips are near his ear as you murmur comforting words. “I’ve got you. Everything is going to be okay.”

Chapter 2

AN:

If people want more I’ll continue. It just flowed out so here it is. Please don’t comment if you don’t have anything nice to say.

[ghost-bxrd]

I’ve been getting really into magical stuff recently and also DC so I’m just gonna drop this here:

Fae Dick Grayson

F A E

okay so fae stories are special to me because I grew up on hearing pagan folklore and fairytales about fae and fae adjacent creatures as good night stories so hooo boy yes I adore that trope! (I mean, I made Dick a Banshee in my fic Shuck so… hehe)

Anyway, Fae Dick Grayson! There’s just so many things you can do with it ✨

Robin appears from one day to the next, following in Batman’s shadow like a mischievous sprite, so honestly rumors have been going wild about him since day one. Robin actually being something non-human doesn’t really come as a surprise!

The fae folk are known for being awfully good at blending in with regular humans when they put their mind to it, the only thing that puts them apart (in most stories) is their otherworldly beauty, and Dick Grayson? Well, he’s definitely got that in abundance.

Just sometimes, when the light reflects off a surface in just the right way, when someone pours a glass of water and you happen to look right through the spray, or when you think you catch a glimpse of something out of the corner of your eye and you spin around— but there’s only Dick Grayson, even if a second ago you could have sworn you saw eyes where there weren’t supposed to be any; colors that aren’t supposed to exist; feathers where only skin has any right to be.

And, gods, all the talking. Dick is terrifyingly good at talking to people without actually saying anything, to the point where you walk away from the conversation feeling utterly drained after spilling your entire life story but when you think back on it— you can’t remember him ever telling you anything about himself. You know there were the usual pleasantries of “hi” and “nice to meet you” and “how are you doing?” but anything beyond that just kinda… seemed to spill out of you? It’s very strange. It’s very unnerving. By the end of the evening you other convince yourself you’re overreacting or you simply push the incident out of your mind altogether.

And there’s another thing about Dick. His name.

He only ever introduces himself as Dick Grayson/Robin. Never Richard. Never. Especially not Richard John. Names are sacred for the fae folk, names have power, so while Richard John Grayson may not be Dick’s true name, he treats it as such to honor his parents. None are allowed to use it. None except Bruce or Alfred on special occasion.

Of course, Dick’s “true” name isn’t exactly a secret so when someone does happen to use it… well, Dick may be… other… but he’s still intrinsically good in a way many of his kind don’t have the patience to be. Dick judges on a case by case basis, just like his parents and Bruce taught him. And usually people do not mean it maliciously when they use his name so he kindly corrects them and that’s that. But oh man, if they still insist on calling him “Richard”? Well..

“Oh no, it seems your credit card is being declined, sir!”

“Sheesh, you tripped over a root? In Gotham?!”

“What do you mean ten birds flew into your window last night? You live on floor level!”

“Dude I’m telling you that rash doesn’t look normal.”

“I… don’t think crows are supposed to follow you like that.”

It’s little things (most of the time, unless you really pissed Dick off) but they keep piling up, slowly driving you insane. You feel like you’re being watched, but it’s just a bird sitting on the window sill again. You feel like someone moved all your furniture just slightly to the right even tho you checked all the cameras.

The fae are kind, but they are also vindictive when crossed.

(Thanks to Bruce, however, I think Dick’s bouts of “vengeance” rarely go much farther than that though.)

Dang ok that ended up being an entire rant… wow. Anyway, yeah. Fae.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Can I ask why you don’t like Vil much? If you haven’t answered that already?

For me, I also didn’t like him at first but loving Rook has turned me into a Vil lover 😭.

[Referencing this tier list!]

A significant part of it is no fault of Vil's own, it's just... I have a very strong aversion to celebrity characters. This dislike scales up the more famous that celebrity character is + how much attention is brought to their status, and well... Y'all know perfectly well how famous Vil is 🤡 This is why I also dislike his father to some degree, though it's to a lesser extent because I at least appreciate Eric being involved in his son’s life + find Eric to be friendly.

Celebrity characters tend to make me feel deeply uncomfortable chiefly because their careers put them in a position where they're ripe for parasocialism (which is when one party, ie their fans, extends emotional energy, interest and time, and the other party, the persona, ie the object of their affection, is completely unaware of the other's existence). Parasocialism in of itself is not a negative thing by default; it can, in fact, be a powerful motivator to improve oneself or can significantly lift one's mood. Some sectors entirely rely on parasocialism to function (such as the "influencing" industry).

Where it starts to get iffy for me is when we veer into the most parasocial of fans who will take extreme actions to support and/or hate on an individual. These are your stalkers, your sasaeng fans, etc. While I'm aware that these are the vocal minority of a celebrity's fanbases, the kinds of things these extremely parasocial fans pull off deeply unnerves me. Like Vil, the celebrities involved are by no means at fault—but they’re always “tainted” in my mind by the association due to the sheer magnitude of what their most crazed fans do in their name 💀 So when I think of that celebrity… I also think of the insane stuff they have to deal with from their fans and that stresses me out.

I find the whole “celebrity worship” culture in of itself very odd. It’s difficult for me to form an attachment to a real person that doesn’t or cannot reciprocate. By extension, it’s hard for me to wrap my mind around activities like following the celebrity’s life closely, supporting any and all projects due to their involvement alone, and collecting merch/signatures. Thinking of Vil’s fans doing this… (or, as seen in the Tapis Rouge event, getting emotional/shrieking for him, begging for a glance, fainting, etc.) it invokes those feelings of discomfort again.

Finally (regarding the celebrity thing), Vil and other famous people tend to be in the spotlight. I don’t really like this sort of a presentation; it calls too much attention to them. This runs counter to the types of characters I tend to gun for: the schemers who operate from the shadows, typically appearing innocuous or humble at first glance. These characters stay out of the spotlight and prefer it that way, as it allows them more freedoms to enact their plots. Celebrities’ positions don’t really allow for that. Even if their off-camera persona is completely different than their on-camera one, the attention they’re showered with never seems to fade.

I also find Vil’s entire presence way too intense (even when he’s lined up next to arguably much more physically imposing students like the 180 cm+ squad or any muscular character). This is why I can tolerate Neige but dislike Vil; Neige comes off as innocent and approachable—so much so that I don’t even register him as an idol or a celebrity in my mind. He’s just a cute boy-next-door type inviting me to dance and sing with him and his friends!

Vil’s hair, makeup, tall heels, the need for perfection, his sternness. It’s a LOT to take in. I can admire the confidence and the tenacity with which Vil pursues beauty, but at the same time… it can come off as super overwhelming. I don’t think I could comfortably breathe in the same space as him without feeling like I’ve offended his sensibilities 😅 Sometimes I get a little anxious just reading him scolding others; it feels like he’s reaching through the screen and scolding me too. I get the overwhelming vibes even through the things Vil creates or commissions; the composition and choreography of Absolutely Beautiful was so oppressive and centered on winning that I disassociated from my own school’s team 💀

Some other minor, miscellaneous gripes I have with Vil:

I don’t generally have a problem with Vil’s leadership or how he guides/teaches others. (His behavior is very similar to what I’ve experienced within my own culture’s upbringing.) However, I do not approve of all of his methods and I do think he does “too much” at times + oversteps, making me feel uneasy.

His tastes don’t really match mine! It’s a little too “glam”, especially the ensembles with heavy smoky eyes.

What’s with him dying the ends of his hair that color… It makes me think of him dunking his head in grape Kool-aid as a dye 😭/j

There we are ^^ I hope that explanation was sufficient!! I tried to explain my… admittedly complex feelings behind my dislike of Vil as neatly as I could. Nothing against the guy, how he is written, or his fans (both in-universe and irl), of course!! This is just my opinion.

[knifedog-machina]

Daemons To Systems, And The Ways They Intertwine

Hey, I’m Max, he/they - I’m the host of our system, the guy who lives in the front and has only ever lived here, the one who identifies our body as my body specifically. A few nights ago, we realized something about our system origins while talking to some other systems, and I’ve honestly never heard of it happening before, so I thought I’d talk about it.

I used to think that I was a singlet before Jude and Gavin walked in. Now I’m pretty sure I wasn’t. See, before I was the host of a system, I was a daemian. I had three daemons, over the course of my time practicing daemonism, interacting with the community. And they were all a little weird.

The first one was Charlie, affectionately longformed as Charlemagne. Xe appeared in January 2018 as a red fox, said that was xir settled form, and never changed from that. That’s an option for daemons - I know other daemons who chose their forms, independent of how well that form represented their daemian, and stayed that way - but it was in contrast to how most people seemed to do it. I never really felt the need to find a form that fit my personality, not when xe was so confident that this was what xe was.

I didn’t try to make xir do anything, I didn’t decide to give xir faux autonomy - xe just did things xirself, with or without my prompting. Xe was playful, optimistic, a cheerful presence always willing to race around and perk me back up. I really needed xir, back then - I was going through a lot of stress in high school, and I needed someone around to remind me of the whimsical little joys in life. Xe fronted sometimes, and I loved when xe did, conjured phantom tail and paws and big fox ears and an unstoppable zest for life.

My next daemon, Martin, appeared in May 2019 after a fever dream. Really. I was sick and tired and miserable, and I didn’t want to do anything, including things that would make me feel better, and a new internal voice appeared in my head. She told me to drink some water and get to sleep. The next morning, she was still there, lounging around as a large black dog, and she stayed.

This became her role, her purpose in our mind, being a shepherd for my needs. She ran our faulty executive functioning, told me to take care of myself when I forgot important things, encouraged me when I failed to meet expectations. She raised her hackles when anyone tried to overstep our boundaries, and advocated for doing what we needed to protect ourselves, regardless of whether it was nice or polite.

Charlie and Martin overlapped in existence for a while. Charlie loved having a big sibling to play with, and Martin was fond of xir. So I had two daemons for a while, and the arrangement was nice. As I transitioned out of high school into college, my circumstances and environment drastically changed. Charlie was sweet, but xe stopped having a function in my life, so over the months, xe popped up less and less, until xe faded away entirely. Xe wasn’t upset to go, and xir memory is a comfort to me - xe served xir purpose, brought me joy, and had a life well lived.

In October 2021, I created a new daemon, compartmentalizing my emotional dysregulation and disordered anxiety into something that was Not Myself, so I could talk to it and understand its needs without being overwhelmed with distress. This became the feral shadow of a dog that we named Cortisol, nicknamed Court - and if Martin was our Freudian superego, who provided guidance for my decisions and stability when I got stressed, Court was our id, feeling all the explosive emotions that I couldn’t externally express and curling up for scritches like a beloved pet when it got what it needed.

We stayed like that for almost a year, getting familiar with the rhythm of life together. Then, in August 2022, my current headmates walked into my brain. My daemons vanished for the duration of their stay.

They only stayed around a few days, that first time - I was moving to a new place and having new people in my brain simultaneously was overloading our mental RAM, so I was forgetting a lot, and I decided that I’d rather live with them some other time. They understood, we said our goodbyes, and they walked out the next morning. (Recounting this to my friend Tanix was hilarious, by the way. “what the fuck (positive)” he said, his own headmates unable to do this. The joys of being a gateway system.) Once the headmates were gone, my daemons returned into my life.

They came back in March 2023, after I settled down into college for a while, and the memory didn’t jam up like it did previously, so we didn’t part ways this time. Martin and Court vanished overnight, again, and looking back on it, I’m noticing some patterns.

Gavin is basically performing the same role that Martin did - he’s the guy reminding us about our responsibilities, talking through the emotions when we feel like garbage, telling me to eat when I forget, or encouraging me to eat when I have enough sensory issues that I can't stomach anything. He consistently fronts when talking to people we don’t especially like, because he feels protective of us and tends to be the most patient with annoyances.

He’s also literally just some guy, just a decent human person who wound up in here because his partner arrived in my brain five minutes before him and understandably got really upset about it, so he followed them in. Somehow. We don't know how it works, but I also don't know exactly where the first two of my daemons came from, so I’m fine leaving it as a mystery.

(He has a lot of complicated feelings about the position he's in, playing a daemon’s role as a completely different person from me, and will probably write his own post about it some time.)

Jude is, unfortunately, kinda in the same role as Court. And since Court held the emotional dysregulation in my brain, Jude also holds the grand majority of the distress and anxiety that we feel on a regular basis. We all really wish it was split more evenly, because Jude tends to not only lose the ability to talk when they panic, they also get stuck in the front, completely unable to talk to me or Gavin.

(It’s not even that they feel the stress that directly affects them, it’s that on top of the stress that we get in our daily life. They regularly had panic attacks over my grades and exams last semester, and they weren’t even the one studying for it at all! It’s fucked up and I don’t love it for us.)

And there are other interesting little coincidences. You know how Court was a sketched-in sort of black dog? Jude only really realized they related to dogs upon arriving in the system with me, and the archetypal form they identify with is, again, a stylized black dog.

It’s really interesting, the ways my brain decided to be plural, because I didn’t think I was a system back then. I had a daemon, then two daemons, and they were daemons because I considered them parts of myself - no matter how autonomous they were, we were bound together in the same identity, as parts of the same person. They were reflections of me, and I loved them like I loved myself, and they loved me with the same ferocity.

With this realization, that my daemons effectively merged into my system, I did have to ask - are my headmates also parts of me, since they’re falling into the same functional compartments in my brain? We don’t think so, or at least, we don’t think it’s that simple. 

They’re completely different people from me, people who arrived here with their own lives and memories and identities. They aren’t autonomous reflections of my psyche like my daemons were. They’re my weird roommates who moved in with me, and my boyfriends, and I guess you could say we’re life partners - because hey, what’s a partner if not someone you share a life with? What’s more intimate than sharing the same body, hearing each other's thoughts and feelings? They aren't parts of me, but we live the same life together, and I think that counts as something just as significant.

[puckpocketed]

19/12/2023 Seattle Kraken vs Dallas Stars

The Summer I Fell For Hockey - The Kraken Wagon: How to Stay Silly in the Face of Loss

I’m the asshole on the tram who’s watching hockey on their phone and not paying attention. This is how my afternoon commute home starts. I almost run into at least two people, I definitely trip a guy trying to get off the tram because I’m not looking, and I’m caught scrambling for the door after nearly missing my stop. My walk home is slowed by my unwillingness to take my eyes off the live feed. I’m sweating through an ill-advised sweater vest thrown on at 6 in the morning on my way out the door and my feet sting from the 5 hour shift I just finished — but I don’t care. The Kraken are down 0-2 and it feels like if I stop watching, if I even think about hurrying home through the swampy, muggy afternoon, the game will run away from us. 

“The Kraken are a wagon” is a sentiment I’ve come across repeatedly in my idle googling about my team. They’re a new team, my friend tells me over discord — she fell out of love with ice hockey years ago, some time back when the Kraken were first drafting their inaugural season lineup — and as soon as I hear it I am enamoured with them. A baby team! One that’s still building an identity, trying to figure out its core; and I’m already so charmed by their jerseys — toothpaste red, white, and blue, a squiggly tentacle ‘S’ for Seattle and a glaring sea monster’s eye — but a baby team? That’s the kind of story I can gorge myself on.

So they have me. I’m in and I’m reading primers and checking player stats, and I only find out about the “Kraken wagon” later. My squids have been in free fall all season, I learn this not long after I catch a game (their 0-3 defeat to the Minnesota Wild). This is what I get for choosing teams based on jersey colours, it’s not too late to swap loyalties — my regulars, who have by now heard all about my latent ice hockey obsession, tell me this as I pour their coffees. They don’t get it yet. If I truly didn’t like the Kraken, I’d have given up on them by now. The jersey colours, at this point, are immaterial. The jerseys are a cute bonus.

Here’s the rub: no one ever expected them to make the Stanley Cup playoffs in their second ever season of existence, but they did — or, some past incarnation of them did. The shadow that this playoffs run casts, even now, is where the “wagon” accusations stem from. But I didn’t join them when times were good. I joined them after an 8 game-long skid into the boards.

It’s hard to love something when all you ever see are the worst parts of it, some might assume. Looking through the Kraken tag tells an entirely different story. Loving the Seattle Kraken has come so easily to me largely due to the tiny group of die-hard followers I’ve come into contact with. I have a tab perpetually open on my second monitor at home when I’m watching games, set to the Kraken’s liveblog tag, and each time I’ve tuned in has been the ride of my life. It’s clear from the speed at which we like and reblog each other’s posts that we’re all regularly checking the tag when something happens. It’s like the world’s most intimate Twitch chat section, the world’s least intimate discord call. We’re mutuals and besties, strangers and fellow fans — I imagine if we were in the stands together, we’d look at each other when our Kraken score and cheer together, maybe we’d scream and laugh in half-disbelief.

The Dallas Stars are at the top of the Western Conference’s central division table, and they play like it. In the first few minutes of the match, Duchene and Seguin blast through and slip one past Daccord, no easy feat given he’s been on fire himself recently. Time after time, the Kraken’s power play is wrecked. The Kraken are being given the runaround, having to doggedly chase down intercepted pucks where the Stars’ passes always seem to connect. Recovery from 0-2 might seem impossible from where they are at the end of the first period, but the Kraken bring to the second period the same energy they had for their relentless puck hunting. Matty B and Tuna — Beniers and Tatar  — put us on the scoreboard and keep us in it, even as we lose Canner and Belly to injuries. Recovery from such an early and demoralising goal deficit isn’t impossible, just increasingly unlikely when you’ve got no superstars and are trying to throw off the wagon allegations.

That’s another thing: expectations are low. And not in a way that’s meant to disrespect the Kraken players — it’s closer to how animals might ball up and protect their vulnerable, soft bellies from harm. Losing, to be perfectly candid, fucking sucks. Reminding ourselves that any gains — no matter how trivial — still count as a win is one way to stave off the inevitable heartbreak. Another way we do it is, to paraphrase several Kraken bloggers,  “staying silly”.

If I were to distill the essence of silliness, I’d start with hockey itself. This game is a goofy one, in spite of my past assertions about warrior’s codes and narratives and unspoken honour. On-ice collisions can in fact be the height of slapstick comedy; and today the tension of a potential line brawl was broken with, of all things, the arena DJ playing Mortal Kombat music. As for the people? Even as the Kraken went down two goals halfway through the first period, the posts and memes rolled in. 

Watching sports is meant to be a leisure activity. If the stress of it ever becomes too much for me, stepping away is vital. Having the denizens of krakenblr being silly alongside me is like having an extra layer of armour between us and the heartache of loss. We crack jokes about manifesting wins, about freeing our boys from the penalty box (they’ve never done anything wrong in their lives, ever, and even if they did those assholes had it coming), about our players who are babygirls, about the endless double-entendre made by Forslund and Olczyk. For each time we scored, for each penalty taken, each power play and penalty kill the tone set by everyone was simple: stay silly. 

In the last minute of the third period, the Kraken rally for one final push. With Daccord pulled from the net the 6-man rush is relentless, and they manage to get up in the Stars’ faces. This is the grit that so inspired my admiration. Though the recaps on the news feed might only list one or two names on the assist, the last goal of third period is thanks to everyone on the ice. The Kraken players perform as their namesake implies: as one they are a many-armed leviathan, come to drag you and yours down, down, down, into the deep.

Vince Dunn — Dunner or Vincess depending on who you ask — keeps the puck from the blue line, Wenny snatches it away from a tight spot between two Stars, and everyone works to feed it back onto Bjorkstrand’s tape. Bjorkstrand’s shot cracks down the line and into the crease — and how’s this for poetry: from the same goddamn place on the ice he shot the last time he had to even up a game going into overtime — and the ensuing scuffle ends with Tolvy tipping it past Wedgewood. After a deeply frustrating review from the situation room, the goal is called good and we’re confirmed for overtime. Various posts to the effect of, “No matter what happens, I love you all. We’ll be okay,” flood the tag as I refresh my page. With them, it truly ain’t that serious; and going into overtime, even knowing the Kraken have one of the least impressive OT records in the league, truly cements it for me. The Kraken will be my team for the foreseeable future.

I won’t keep you in suspense, if you’re reading this from the outside looking in. The game ends in a loss. But I’m no heavier than I was when the game started. On the contrary, I’m lighter. The little reservoir of dread that had built up inside me in the early hours of the game has been emptied by a tidal wave of sweetness, of sincere well-wishes and optimism. To the Kraken fans I’ve interacted with so far: thank you all so much for what is possibly the warmest welcome I’ve ever received to a fandom space, thank you for making this game and this team so easy to love, thank you for shielding my tender flesh from loss and making even defeats a little fun.

So what if the Kraken are a wagon? It’s a clown wagon, and we’re riding it together; hand in silly hand.

[mae-i-scribble]

I’ve been thinking so much about how ASTV goes out of its way to set up Miles and Gwen as both parallel and directly opposing each other throughout the entire film and going just a little feral so now I am subjecting my essay upon the internet.

First off we have the direct comparisons that can be made between Miles and Gwen as people, the way they both use that awful fake low voice to disguise themselves. Both of them have fathers that are in the police force who were at one point staunchly against spider-man and to whom they have to conceal themselves from. Both of them started out as superheroes around the same age. Both are established as people who despite having support groups around them who support them (miles and ganke plus his parents, gwen with her band and her dad (here on a technicality)) to be desperately lonely people because they can never discuss who they are in full with anyone, and who in turn feel a special connection with each other because of all these similarities in their unique situations. Both of them are also painted as anomalies, with Gwen being a Gwen Stacy who exists outside of the ‘girlfriend who tragically dies’ role given to her other universe counterparts (this may change in BTSV based on some creator statements but for now its all we have to go off of). And Miles, the kid who was never meant to become spider-man but who excelled at the role. Both of them are extremely skilled superheroes who keep up with the older veterans despite their age too.

And then we have some of the hard hitting differences. The polar opposite relationship these two have with both their fathers and with family in general. Even as spider-man, Miles has kept a good rapport up with his father and the police, if met with a little more annoyance from the police. Gwen on the other hand, has been hunting down like a criminal for most of her vigilante life, doubly so by her own father who even when confronted with the fact that his daughter is spider-woman, tries to lock her up anyways. Something we know with absolute certainty Miles’ dad would not do. Gwen’s dad is also the only family she has left, and even before that it seems that her support group was very small and limited to Peter and Aunt May. On the other hand Miles has both his parents and a lot of people he can at least call acquaintances (we see this in the first movie as he has always been a bit of a people person, well loved at his old school). We also see a stark difference in how they would have handled being told they couldn’t use the watches to visit. Gwen, clearly afraid of losing the one safe space she has left, keeps in line regardless of her own feelings because she cannot risk it. Miles, on the other hand, had he been put in a position to join spider-society before Gwen, would have gone to see her by any means- he was already trying to see both her and Peter from his own dimension.

There are some other scenes and visuals that also continue this trend, screencaps and explanations of those below the readmore.

First off we have the visual contrast between Miles and Gwen’s respective dimensions. Gwen’s world is a blur of color, the cityscape blends together only to focus on the things Gwen cares about. It’s painted together.

Miles’ world, on the other hand, while having a slight blur that is reminiscent of older comics, stands out much more sharply. And while not as distinctly colorful as Gwen’s world, its a much brighter take on our everyday reality (mostly this one shot is not the best example).

When Miles and Gwen first meet and start talking on the bank building, this shot happens. As Gwen sits with a backdrop of shadows we pan up to see Miles standing, the archway giving him the bright backdrop of sky. Right here, as they talk about what could happen if Miles’ were to reveal his identity, visually they are on two opposite sides of one story to reflect how ideologically separated they are on this topic. There’s a physical divide between them. This is coupled by the way ATSV uses the imagery of people being oriented in different directions to show their separation. It’s used in the promo art for Miles vs spider-society, and twice in relation to Miles and Gwen specifically.

But despite their vastly different experiences, the way that their lives have played out so differently, they still have a connection, shown by the way that Miles gets down to match Gwen’s perspective. He literally meets her at her level, and by doing so they get a view that only the two of them can share. Miles is what brings them back onto the same parallel track by orienting himself to match Gwen. That divide doesn’t exist anymore.

This one is less meaningful I just kinda thought it was cute how they essentially had the same reaction to watching the Spot’s plan play out.

The most meaningful shot in this scene though once more brings back the separation via oriented in opposite directions though. The backdrop behind them is open, connecting them together, and they’re on the same level face to face. However, Miles is upside down. Rather than Gwen being the one in strong disagreement, now Miles is with the fact that Gwen would choose to abandon him without telling him anything. And unlike Miles, Gwen doesn’t have the chance to try and see it from his perspective.

The last point I want to bring up is two paralleled shots in the movie. The first being when Miles catches Gwen with his web when she falls in Mumbattan. Here, the only thing that makes the web snap is when Miles’ starts glitching, literally the only thing the could have made him drop her is the universe itself interfering.

Vs when Gwen returns the favor in Nueva York. Only this time it isn’t about the universe interfering, it’s about how she’s lost Miles’ trust so completely, so utterly, that he would rather break off this connection himself than have Gwen save him.

All these things come together to just break my heart over what’s happened to their friendship- I really want some solid resolution to just how much both Gwen and Peter have hurt Miles in the next movie. But also the levels this movie goes to show just how these two are connected to make their intense bond over such a short period more believable is just superior film making at its best. If anyone has more examples I didn’t point out here please let me know I would love to see them.

[godofclosure]

TOA Anniversary Munday!!

I, too, have stolen this from Neffi. I’m sorry you keep getting robbed crime has truly become such an epidemic in TOA it’s a shame really. Will no one keep our streets safe 😔 (if it wasn’t obvious that was a joke ty neffi)

Name: Metal

Pronouns: She/Her

Birthday (no year): 10/6

Where are you from? What is your time zone? PST! (So like 3 hours ahead of TOA time), AMERICA RAAAAHHHHHHH‼️‼️🔥🔥🔥🗣️🗣️🗣️🦅🦅💥💥

-

How long is your roleplay experience? That. Is complicated. Not entirely sure but let’s just go with 3 years i think.

How were you introduced to roleplaying as a whole? Okay so like looking back I was totally roleplaying with friends in elementary school via text but like we didn’t call it that so that didnt even register until I’d already been in TOA for a year so idk if that counts

How were you introduced to TOA? Mindlessly scrolling the Fire Emblem Three Houses tag and for some reason some random acceptance post caught my attention and then I couldn’t stop thinking about it

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Do you have any pets? One dog, two cats!! Do not ask for pictures you will never stop receiving them this is for your own good

What is your favorite time of year and why? (Season, holiday, general period) Winter because the bugs are dead and I can live without fear!!! (+ I live in some weird climate vortex where the temperature never gets lower than 60 or higher than 80 so I don’t have to deal with whatever temperature nonsense is going on everywhere else)

What is your IRL occupation? Student x2 😔

Some interests and things you like/enjoy? Hatsune Miku has me in a death grip. My world is a shrine to her being. So is yours. So is everyone. Hatsune Miku is all. The world is hers. SEKAAAIIIII DE—

What non-Fire Emblem games do you play? Genshin, pjsk, pokemon, sometimes I stare longingly at persona 3 but I haven’t had time to actually play it yet, whatever random farming game has decided to trap me in my room for the next month straight

Favorite Pokemon type & Pokemon: Fire and Torchic :)

-

How did you get into Fire Emblem? I’m ashamed to say I’m one of the smash players who was confused by the random anime men 😔 at some point mentioned it to a friend while playing and he was like “oh the mobile game is a good starting point” and forced me to download it which started the spiral (my disappointment when I learned Sakura is not actually a cat and it was just a Halloween alt was immeasurable)

What Fire Emblem games have you played? Three Houses, Heroes, Fates (all three), Awakening, Engage (+I own Shadows of Valentia but I haven’t opened it I’m sorry I’m a fake fan)

First & Favorite Fire Emblem games: First: Heroes 😔 but if that doesn’t count then Birthright, Favorite: Three Houses

List your 5 favorite Fire Emblem characters across the series! No particular order: Edelgard, Plumeria, Líf, Yuri, Kagetsu

Who was the first character ever to make you go “ooh I like this one in particular” and why? Can be any context and reason! Ashe. I have no idea why. I do not feel this way now I forget he exists frequently sorry buddy

If you’ve played (or are familiar with) the following games, who was your first S support? Who would you S support nowadays? - Awakening: First: Chrom (accident, wanted Henry), Now: Chrom (on purpose)- Fates: First: Jakob, Now: Kaden- Three Houses: First: Ashe, Now: Yuri- Engage: Kagetsu. And I’d do it again. Love that guy.

Favorite Fire Emblem class? Dark Flier

If you were a Fire Emblem character, what would be your class and stats? Would you be playable? I want to say “random village npc that lives a peaceful life and doesn’t get involved in the war” but every school I’ve ever been to has had the stupid house system so I cannot deny the truth. I am random academy phase npc that dies on the first mission.

If you were a Three Houses character, what would be your affiliation? Realistically Golden Deer but my heart lies with you beagles

If you were an Officers Academy student, what would be your boons, banes and potential budding talent? Boons: Reason & Riding, Banes: Faith & Gauntlets, Budding Talent: Heavy Armor

If you were an Engage character, which nation would you originate from? Probably Firene if only because I would die in any other climate

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How do you pronounce TOA? 🤔 letters. It took me months to understand why everyone kept talking about toasters

Current TOA muses: Elise and Embla!!

Past TOA muses? Constance, Sothis, Kaden, Kagetsu

Who was your first TOA muse? If you no longer have them, can you see yourself picking them up again? Constance, but I don’t see that happening. The more I looked into her character the more I made connections to stuff irl that I felt like I didn’t have the right to talk about and that fear of accidentally offending someone slowly killed her off

Do you believe you have a type of character you gravitate towards writing? I have three moods: “blonde girl that dyes her hair purple sometimes”, “hyperactive man”, and “what”

Do you have characters or types of characters you don’t think you can handle writing, but wish you could? Plumeria my beloved writing you would make me so uncomfortable which is technically IC but I can’t put myself through that I’m sorry girl I’m not strong enough 

What kind of scenes, situations etc do you believe you enjoy writing the most? I like the silly. I do very much enjoy the drama of course also though. Haha emotional pain :)

Do you have any scenario in mind for your muse(s) that gets you thinking “man I hope I get to write this one day”? TOAAAAA!!!! DROP AN ASKR MUSE, AND MY LIFE, IS YOURS. (No pressure to anyone though of course!)

Favorite TOA-related memories? So many. Too many. Cannot list them all here this is long enough as is. I love you TOA :)

Normal size text, small text, no preference? Small text is too much effort for me but I don’t ever notice the difference unless it’s right next to normal text tbh

Got any potential muse delusions to share? 😉 He lurks. Every day he grows stronger. I don’t know how long I can fight off his return. He has a sword and he is strong and he knows it. Also Metodey for some reason??

[golden-flute]

No one asked for my opinion on The Sun and the Star, but I’ve been thinking of nothing else since I finished the book, and I have to write my thoughts or I will explode, lol.

Fair warning: Spoilers and long-ass thought dump ahead.

Gif Originally posted by riptides

On the Themes

I picked out a few different themes that I found carried through the book:

Self-acceptance

Living with trauma

Embracing change

What healing looks like

I thought they were brilliantly approached because there was a lot of nuance for each theme. Particularly when you consider that these are pretty heavy topics for middle-reader age groups!

The biggest theme directly relating to Nico was this idea that it's possible to embrace your trauma, to accept it, and to grow around it. In his case, it's literal, with the Cocoa Puffs hanging around him now like a little parade of Walmart Ghibli Sootballs, lol.

I think that Nico was working through his trauma well before he ever heard the prophecy. The fact that he was able to accept his darkness so easily once Nyx forced him to confront it was more a mark of how far he'd already progressed than it was a big moment where he was suddenly magically healed from all of his baggage. The entire purpose of the Cocoa Puffs was to act as a physical representation of Nico's existing trauma. They will always be a part of him, but they don't define him. He's simply accepted them and freed himself from them without avoiding the fact that they'll still be there. That's such a healthy place to be, particularly because I think a lot of people tend to fall into the same trap of toxic positivity that Will did....

Many people who are natural healers and problem-solvers often fail to realize that being healed doesn't always mean that pain has totally been eradicated, hurray. In their minds, there's always some way to fix broken people. And I think that's why Will's conversation with Persephone was so important for his growth. I think he always saw Nico as someone who needed to be fixed, and to Will, that meant that Nico must hide from his trauma, or ignore it. Will's story arc centered around his acceptance that he can't (and shouldn't) always try to heal people "his way." With Nico, he had to get on his level, see him, and accept his pain. I've known people in my life who tend to avoid negative emotions because they think it's totally bad. But hiding from the pain can often make it worse. Darkness only grows stronger in the shadows, after all.

Nico and Will's internal journeys were two sides of the same coin in that respect. I loved it. Nico was ready to accept his trauma, but in a way, Will had to accept it too.

By the time they reach Nyx, these internal struggles had been mostly resolved and simply need to have their big final moment to totally hit home. But there's another kind-of-subtle-but-also-not theme for Nyx that ingeniously ties into the idea of questioning gender and sexuality. Nyx sees things as black and white. Even her own children, who are more than their labels, have to fit into these perfect molds in her mind. She's the BBEG because she struggles to change or to accept others changing around her. Talk about a heavy topic, right? But then at the end of the book, this idea of change is also beautifully encapsulated in Nico and Piper's discussion about sexuality labels. Particularly from Piper's perspective, since she's still figuring herself out and just going with what feels right in the moment. People are beautifully complex creatures who are capable of being something new every day.

On Characterization

Over the years, I've discovered that I gravitate toward the reformed, darker characters--the gloomy cinnamon rolls, if you will. Nico. Laudna and Caleb from Critical Role. Hunter in the Owl House. Zuko. Kaladin from the Stormlight Archives. Riku from Kingdom Hearts. So on and so forth. Something about their stories is so compelling to me. Perhaps seeing them overcome their own trials is a symbol that light comes after darkness, which is a message I have clung to my entire life, because it gives me hope for myself. And that’s exactly one of the messages I got from TSATS. This time, it was Nico’s turn for a reprieve from his trauma.

Y'all. Nico's a fucking NERD. The moment we met him as a little kid, he was talking everyone's ears off about Mythomagic, and he revealed he had a pirate phase and... yeah, he's just a nerd. His carefree personality took a huge nosedive after Bianca was killed, and then he became this unrecognizable dark creature of vengeance. I know some folks felt that he was really out of character in TSATS, but I find the shift just harkens back to the themes of change. Nico's transforming before our eyes, guys. Though Apollo's series and into TSATS, he's come to a place of peace where he could let go of his anger and his darkness... or at least accept them. And that's given him the space he needed to kind of get back on an even keel. He's finally able to return to his natural progression as a hyperactive dork. That's what we saw in TSATS and I loved it so much for him.

I found Will's progression really interesting as well. He's always been seen as the intrepid healer with a sometimes-literal glowing halo around him. In this story, the tables were turned and he had to accept that he needed support sometimes too. But more than that, this is the first time we've really gotten inside Will's head. We've only ever really seen him from the perspective of Nico (his admirer) and Apollo (his affectionate father). But this time, we were able to get Will's thoughts, and he's... not as perfect as we expected. And I love it. No one is perfect, and I think that in the absence of more information on Will, people sort of developed headcanons of him that understandably made the TSATS version of him a bit jarring. But if he were this perfect pariah of a character, that would hardly be interesting. I really enjoyed that in the first half, he spent so much time complaining about the Underworld, because it just meant there were some lessons for him to learn as well. He's complex, just like the rest of the PJO cast.

Other Incongruent Thoughts

Guys, I'm dead. When we finally heard the fated prophecy, I was... really underwhelmed. It didn't feel like it was literarily as impressive in the same way the other prophecies had been. It just... wasn't very good poetry. But then Dionysus criticized the rhyme structure and called it "a bit forced" and I was like "Hang on..." Come to find out, Hades made up the prophecy to get Nico to go save Bob! Can you just imagine Hades sitting at a desk, surrounded by crumpled pieces of paper, writing bad poetry that's convincing enough to get Nico off his butt and into Tartarus? I'm deceased.

The reunion between Nico, Maria, and Bianca BROKE me, y'all. I was full-on sobbing and my eyes were swollen this morning when I woke up. I was confused by how they were there, since past books said that they'd "moved on," insinuating they'd tried for rebirth. But I saw another post someone made about how Hades (or Bianca?) mentioned that they were the barest of essences remaining. I'm not saying it very well, but it made a lot more sense, and I hadn't caught that insinuation in my read-through. But I absolutely loved that we didn't get this reunion until after Nico had already accepted his trauma. If this meeting had come before, I'm sure he would have fought to "save" his mom and sister--I mean, he even says it in the book. But by that point, all he needed was to say his piece and get some closure, and that was enough for him. It was a mark of how much he's grown, and I just... *chef's kiss*

I love Hades. He's genuinely a good dad. Well... sort of. Maybe not at the beginning of PJO. But he, too, is changing his ways and taking more of an interest in his children. Or at least Nico. I wonder if we'll ever get more Hazel/Hades content? But Nico pretty much confirmed that Hades was around when he was a kid, and Hazel said the same thing in a previous book, which is more than pretty much every other demigod can say, so there you go. By Olympian standards, Hades deserves that #1 Dad mug.

I was really surprised that it took over half the book for Nico and Will to make it to Tartarus! Don't get me wrong, there was still plenty going on, but I was so used to the idea of Percy and Annabeth dropping in at chapter 2, it surprised me!

Anyone else peep the really big typo on page 401 of the US hardcover? "My mother is Bianca di Angelo, and she loved me and my sister." I stared at that for a long time last night wondering if I was going crazy, lolol. From what I've heard, the typo has already been fixed on the kindle version of the book, but those of us with physical copies have got the OG mistake. Whoops, lol!

I'm having a hard time discerning if the "'Dam it,' said Nico." on page 352 is a typo or not, for the pure and simple reason that there were so many dam jokes in PJO. And somewhere else in the book, Nico actually says "Damn," so... was it a typo? The 'dam' joke didn't really have a purpose for being there, and it wasn't repeated later, so I feel more like it might have been another typo?

We got a little Percy and Annabeth action! And Sally and Estelle! I have to admit, I was a little disappointed that Percy and Annabeth had already forgotten about Bob. Especially since Percy's whole growth in the House of Hades was to realize how many people he'd left behind. I never expected them to join Nico and Will in their Tartarus journey, but they apparently brushed him off so fast I got whiplash! What was that about? I wonder if we'll get more on that in the short story that comes out later this year?

We got a little mention of Damasen in this story as well, and obviously if he hasn't regenerated yet, there wasn't much they could do for him. But... I'm surprised that Percy and Annabeth didn't mention him or ask Nico to keep an eye out for him as well because he was there at the Doors of Death, making the same sacrifice as Bob. Will there be another Tartarus rescue mission in the future? Nemesis told Nico that any future journies into Tartarus would be unsuccessful. While I feel like it's unlikely we'll get any more Tartarus field trips, those little asides made me wonder if Rick Riordan's got more ideas floating around that he wanted to leave open for later, just in case.

They used the words gay, bisexual, and lesbian! I don't think this book series has ever done that before! I have a sneaking suspicion that this was part of Mark's contribution to the book. RR usually tends to talk around those words--he'll make it obvious, like when Apollo talked about his love for Hyacinthus, but I don't think Apollo ever actually used the word bisexual to describe himself (correct me if I'm wrong). I think that it was a really good step forward for children's literature. If you're going in, go all in, you know?

Lil Nas X made an unbelievable appearance! Lol! Though I have to admit, the inconsistency of the timeline of references sometimes gets me. Like many books ago, some character probably dropped a reference from ten years ago, and a year or two in book time, we get a Montero reference. Like, it's a small nitpick, but that inconsistency always pulls me out of the story a bit. Yeah, you heard right--I'm totally fine with the issues everyone else had with the books, but the weird timeline of references messes with me, lol. That's where I draw the line! That's not the say the Lil Nas X reference wasn't spectacular, though, lol.

Do I... like Mr. D now? I love Dionysus from the mythologies, but Mr. D was always so... blegh. But he's like legit a decent person to Nico. He shared his popcorn! That. Was. HUGE. Hahaha.

We finally got the full scoop on Nico's first trip to Tartarus!

The nickname "Night-Light" is endlessly adorable. And then Will ruins it by turning around and calling Nico "Death Boy" lol.

The trogs were never my favorite mythological creature ever, but they grew on me in this story.

So... Menoetes and Geryon, huh? Menyon? Geroetes? What's our ship name? Lol.

Will having the hots for Persephone was not on my bingo card, lol! I did really enjoy their talk, though. It really set up Will's character arc very nicely. And I loved that Persephone seems to be taking a leaf out of Hades' book and trying to be a bit kinder towards her stepchildren. It's not their fault, you know?

I'm seeing a lot of reactions to Nico's coming out story. I agree, that's one part I felt was a little bit forced. Introverted people can have moments where they're feeling brave and don't mind an audience (Hi, I'm exhibit A), I wouldn't say it's out of character per se. But it was a little bit... shall we say out of context? Since we didn't get the actual scene, but Nico and Will's recollection of it?

I really liked Gorgyra. The random chapters of stories from Nico and Will kind of jarred me a bit, but I think they were a nice touch, but would have been too much if they'd all been told chronologically. I agree with Rick and Mark's decision to split those up.

Amphithemis was a trip! I wish we could have lingered a bit more on Nico being upset at Will for tricking him away. I was glad that Nico at least asked Hades to free Amphithemis.

I saw some complaints that Nico and Will were super cringey around one another. To that, and as someone who's ace, I say... most couples are cringey around each other, particularly young couples. Nico and Will are still feeling out their relationship, and they don't have the years of friendship that Percy and Annabeth had that made their relationship so easygoing. I think Nico and Will's relationship is a bit more realistic in terms of first loves.

I loved the frank conversations about PTSD. I eat stuff like that up, because when I read it, I can just imagine someone else who really needs that sort of representation reading this book and finding comfort in characters like them.

And I'm literally out of space. I had no idea Tumblr had a character limit, but I hit it, lol. But if you got this far, thanks for reading!

[paintmegrey]

Sharing 2 of my favourite deleted Jegulus scenes from Yeah My Boyfriend’s Pretty Cool (But not as cool as me) :

1)

They were lost.

James’ words sit between them, growing like some undefinable river. Too harsh to cross—too cold to bear.

“Regulus if you” James struggles to catch his breath, “if you get on that plane—I don’t know what I’ll do.” James deflates with the words. So true that they even leave him bewildered for a second.

Their love, it feels like the soft whistle to a song. So delicate, yet James would recognize it anywhere. He’s memorized all of it but standing here now James feels as though he’s forgetting the tune. As if the soft hum and whistle is fading into the end of the song.

“James I can’t-“ The hitch of Regulus’ breath is so harsh that James feels it in his own chest, “I can’t. This is not worth—this shouldn’t be worth anything to you.” The words are hushed, muffled under layers. But James doesn’t know what Regulus means. He wants to ask. He wants to scream to know. But every word is stuck in some lost corner of his mind, and all that he has to give now is his silence.

Nothing will ever define James the way this love has. They way Regulus has. Regulus is standing right in front of him, watery eyed and fading into shadow, but James already misses him. James can’t unclutch Regulus’ from his grasp. Everything that James has ever had to leave behind is buried with scratch marks, with every desperate attempt to hold on.

What is happiness if not love? What is James?

Regulus turns around, his body stiff and entirely closed off to James. “Go back inside, James.”

“Regulus.” It’s nothing other than a plea. A beg for Regulus to let them have this. To let James keep this.

Regulus hesitates for half a second, a simple twitch of his hand and then he’s walking away. The straight lights perfectly still. The echos of conversion, and laughter, and beautiful life continuing around them.

As James watches Regulus’ back he swears, somewhere in the distance someone is whistling the tune of a song. A delicate soft song, a precious one. And as Regulus gets further away, as James' existence is slowly ripped in half he focuses on that whistling and how it fades into nothing but air.

Then it is silence. Just James, just silence.

2) (the voicemail)

Regulus, hey. I’m not sure if you’re going to hear this anytime soon or ever—I hope you do though. Um- There’s a heavy sigh, and Regulus finds himself holding his breath. I’m not mad at you Regulus. I wish I could say I was, but—I just can’t. James’ voice gives a dry laugh, not a drip of humor. Maybe it’s pathetic but I—I care about you so much Regulus. So much that I—fuck, I would have helped you pack your stuff and leave to London if that’s what you really wanted. I would’ve held your hand until you left for that flight—I The sound of James’ voice breaking down starts to fill Regulus’ eyes with tears, barely able to stop themselves from pooling over.

—I would have just loved you until the end, as long as you would let me I’d love you. Even now…But your Mother called. I’m sure you already know that. I’ve been wondering if maybe I was…too much for you. If maybe I’m just too much. She told me that you want me to leave you alone. That you want nothing to do with me. Regulus hears the way the tremble in James’ voice becomes worse with ever word, and it kills him.

If that’s what you want Regulus. For me to just pretend there was nothing, I can—for you I can do that. And I’m sorry if I was a lot. I just— It’s then that James starts crying, and Regulus starts crying right along with him. Covering his mouth to muffle his sobs, desperate to hear James’ words clearly.

I just never want you to be afraid of me Reg. Like you can’t tell me things. You can always tell me anything, I will always listen. I’ll always be here, and I hope you never doubted that. If you don’t love me—that’s okay. It’s okay. I hope for the sake of my heart that you loved me at least once—that at some point you at least thought you could. There has never been anything wrong with you Regulus. I just— wanted you to know that you’re worth so much more than what this world has given you. You’re more than this job Regulus. You’re more than this imaginary worth in these awards. Or your family.

You are everything to me Regulus…all you’ve ever been is everything to me. You don’t have to be better or changed, you didn’t have to pretend for me. You never did. And LA—my house, is just not the same without you. I just want you to know I’m always here, that I’m always wishing you’ll call just so we can talk. Talk about anything. About the weather for fucks sake. Just to—just to know you’re there, love. I really do hope you’re alright Reg. I hope you’re happy, I hope it’s not too cold there. That you remember to water your plants and drink enough water.

If you need anything, I’ll always be here. Just a call away. I love you more than anything, darling, and I hope you’re okay. I hope you felt loved by me at least, because you were. You are.

The voice recording stops. Regulus’ hands are shaking and he’s choking violently on his sobs.

[crushedbyhyperbole]

Phantasmagoria

Summary:  Bucky x Reader / Sebastian Stan x Reader.  You’re visited in your dreams, everything feels so real you don’t want it to end.

Words: 1.3k

A/N:  I had a very lucid dream a while ago where I could feel everything down to the rasp of his beard and the feel of his tongue in my mouth.  I had to get it down in writing but I’ve been sat on it for a couple of weeks and I just want to share it so here it is.  Feel free to let me know what you think.

This dream has also spawned another fic which I’m in the process of writing along with a handful of other WIPs... will I ever get any of them finished?  Who knows.  But I hope you enjoy this one.

Warnings:  Smut, lucid dreaming, mentions of real person

You’re tired.  Exhausted, in fact.  The long hours and stresses of work have taken their toll on you, and the lack of sleep too; waking up after only a few hours no matter what time you went to bed each night.  But this is it!  Your day off.  You can luxuriate in bed as long as you want today, so you’re having an afternoon nap.  You’re almost asleep too, when it happens.  The dream.

He stands before you, dressed in blue leather and black cargo pants.  Short dark hair, styled roughly, and stubble that looks short and rough around dusky pink lips that are pinched in a thin line because of his clenched jaw.  His eyes are a striking blue, shadowed and made cold by the things he’s seen and done.  His face a little weathered, harsh lines show around his eyes, mouth and between his brows; the long years of his life mitigated only by his time spent in cryosleep.

You know this face.  You know it so well it can’t be anything other than a dream.  This is Bucky Barnes, The Winter Soldier – a fictional character in a fandom you adore, played by Sebastian Stan – your biggest fantasy.

His eyes warm when he looks at you, face softens, and the crease between his brows all but disappears.  He looks younger, healthy, and… hungry.

When he steps forward your heart quickens.  He is so vivid you can practically smell him, dust and the masculine musk of his sweat after a fight.  You swear you can feel the heavy weight of his hands on your hips as he stands so close that your chests touch.

Inches away, he examines your face, eyes tracing every feature until they settle on your mouth.  The quick twitch of his tongue between his lips gives him away and he leans in, lips meeting yours in a pouty kiss like he’s sucking the tip of an ice-cream cone.  His stubble feels… it actually feels harsh and sharp, prickling your skin.  Holy shit you can really feel this!  You pull back in shock, heart pounding so hard it starts to pull you from the dream.  He’s fading but you don’t want him to go, your heart aches that he’s disappearing, leaving you.

You focus on his mouth, how his lips have blushed a deeper pink, how they glisten from where he’s just licked them, solidifying him, bringing him back.

His hand on the side of your face pulls you to him as he leans in to snag your lips again, tongue scraping between your teeth, and you can feel that too, the wet firmness of it invading your mouth.  He tastes like you do but cooler, and you groan when he grips the back of your head to angle you for a deeper kiss.  His tongue is scandalously long and deft, exploring and playing with yours.  You’ve never been kissed like this in your entire life, never felt like this with anyone.  He’s not even real, doesn’t exist, not in this form anyway, and isn’t something you can ever have.  And yet…

He doesn’t stop kissing you but his hands are all over your body, caressing through your pyjamas – yes you’re in your pyjamas and this whole thing is ridiculous anyway so why can’t you be in your pyjamas?  Rough squeezes betraying his need for something that you can hopefully give him, followed by the soft smoothing of a gentle caress afterwards as he sets you on fire with his touch.

There are no words and he doesn’t offer you any.  He hasn’t uttered a single sound since he came to you and that’s a shame, but you can feel everything right up to the press of his nose against your cheek and the way he presses his pelvis against yours.  Hard.

You’re giddy with a mix of desire and the lucid half-sleep you’re floating in, but you feel so alive, so wanted, so lucky.  He’s here with you and it’s so fucking impossible you think you might break when it inevitably ends.  Because it will end.  But, for now, his kiss is all that matters.

 He backs you up, two steps until your bottom hits something firm and you turn for him, letting him bend you over the- whatever it is.  Table, desk, piano, you don’t know but it’s the perfect height.  He slides your pyjama bottoms down to expose you.  Then you feel it; cool and firm between your parted thighs.  The pressure of his hips against your cheeks is thrilling as he rolls them against you to drag his exposed erection through your wet lips.  Once, twice, three times.

The probing presence of his cock sets your heart fluttering and a light bubbling of excitement settles low in your abdomen – even your womb feels his presence.  He’s lined up perfectly, pushing firmly but slowly, taking his time as he penetrates you.  Every quarter inch of his painfully slow entry has you panting, heart fluttering like a butterfly, nerves buzzing like a hummingbird’s wings.  When his tip pops inside, you sigh; a reverent prayer to whatever gods have sent him to you.  The stretch is exquisite but not painful and he feels solid like warm steel or glass, pushing pleasure into you as he goes.

When he’s fully seated he stills, hands sliding over your hips and up your back to push your top over your head.  He takes the moment to caress you, feel you, and soothe you before his hands settle firmly on your hips and he draws back until your lips are just kissing his tip.  His next stroke is forceful, and you feel the power of his thrust like a wave of silken heat coursing through your pelvis.  Jesus he feels good, skin to skin, sliding himself deep in measured long thrusts that have your legs shaking.

You wish he would say something or moan to let you know he’s enjoying you just as much as you’re enjoying him, but he doesn’t.  He’s your silent lover.  Meticulously taking you apart piece by piece until all that’s left is the feeling of you and him together.

 Something feels different now, his thrusts speed up, but the angle has changed.  He puts more weight on you, leaning over you to grip your shoulders, fingers curling to dig into your clavicle.  The way he pulls you back onto him repeatedly has your back arching, chest raising from the polished black surface.  You steady yourself with one hand splayed on the dark gloss, the other cups your breast, kneading and pinching. 

His pace, once metronomic, becomes erratic, gruelling even.  The measured forcefulness of his thrusts becomes vicious but it sends you further into delirium, core pulsing around him as he hammers himself as deep as he can go.  He makes no sounds other than the slapping of skin and the jangle of buckles but you can tell he’s close, cock swelling inside you noticeably.  You think you feel it when he spills, the tingling of your womb is the prelude to your own release.  The violence of his climax overshadows yours significantly but it’s still exquisite, coursing through you like a slow delicious shockwave of singing nerves and warmth.

His hips stutter to a stop, the last few thrusts half-hearted as he straightens and strokes your back and hips affectionately; his silent thank you.

You stay like that, feeling him soften inside you.  As he leans forward to press soft kisses against your back and neck, he slips free.  Tinged by the cool absence of his chest against your skin you realise he’s leaving you.  Your heart clenches with loss as his final caress trails down your spine to your hips where his fingers leave your skin bereft of his touch.  Gone.

[greshricci]

Contrast

It’s a rare day when I have the time to sit back and just be alone with my thoughts for a moment. It’s odd … my mind nowadays feels alien, but right. Then again, considering the stark difference in my life before being adopted by Crow and my life now, I can sort of rationalize that feeling. G’resh from before, which was me up until I was about 12 years old, was a shy, secluded kid with a very cliquish friend group. It was practically just me and the people in the d&d club at school. Gods know my parents weren’t present enough to warrant calling them a part of my life then. Times were tough back then, but perhaps not as physically demanding as they are now, as I was not in any active training programs aside from a couple magic classes at school.

I often wonder how younger me would see me now. Would he look into his reflection and see me as yet another one of the shadows in his room at night? Would he see me as something to strive for? Maybe a bit of both. I do not quite see him the same way, though. I see him as what will happen if I turn back now. I would become the coward I once was, and remain stuck there. I would live under a shadow of fear so repressive, I would drown in it, allowing it to consume my entire existence until the only thing I know is terror. That’s not the existence I want, not even a little bit.

Is that worth the criminal life? What if I never get strong enough to properly lead in Dad’s place? What if I reach a limit, and it’s not to Dad’s specifications? What if all of this becomes just pointless …

No. Best not to dwell on that too long. One can always get stronger with the right experience. I just need to trust Dad’s methods. He’s been doing this a hell of a lot longer than I have, after all.

…

I’ve started to see this look in Mrs. Dreemurr-Font’s eyes when I come over to Azzy’s to play some D&D or something. It’s not fear, that’s for sure. A boss monster like her has no reason to fear a random kid like me. Perhaps concern? She doesn’t want Asriel following in my footsteps, I think. Fair enough. Lucky for her, Asriel doesn’t look up to me (well, no shit, I’m three feet shorter than him) or the life I’m leading. I can hear him talking with the others more often about his concern that I’m gonna get myself stuck in a situation I can’t get out of. He wants to lead an honest life, I can tell.

And that’s great.

But that’s because he has the choice to do that.

I have no choice.

G’resh Ricci

(Undertale-Ish is owned by @petra-creat0r, Crow Ricci is owned by @garbagemanblue)

[aeoki]

Blackjack - Miracles Don't Exist: Chapter 8

Location: Star Fest Stage Characters: Shinobu, Souma, Natsume & Tetora Season: Winter

TL Note:

Natsume refers to Souma here with “Kanzaki / 神裂き” but his surname is written with the characters for “神 - god/divinity” and “裂き - tear/cleave/splinter” (the original characters for “Kanzaki / 神崎” are “神 - god/divinity” and “崎 - coastal cape”.)

Shinobu: Tetora-kuuun! Merry Christmas ☆

Tetora: Oh? Shinobu-kun! Merry Xmas!

Shinobu: Nihihi, you’re the first “RYUUSEITAI” member I’ve met today ~de gozaru ♪ It feels pretty refreshing!

Tetora: Osu. It wouldn’t be any different from normal if we went around as a unit, so we all decided to start off at different venues, huh.

A lotta stuff feels new thanks to that. Especially since everyone was basically together day and night for the “SS” Qualifying Rounds.

Shinobu: Right~? ♪ Well, there’ll be fans whose favourite is the entire unit, so they’d have a tough time trying to figure out which venue to see, though.

Natsume: HeHE. There’s an app that shows where everyone is in real tiME, so it shouldn’t be that much of an issUE.

Souma: The sports festival had amazing technology as well, but it appears they do not hesitate to use the latest technology. It is quite difficult for an old-fashioned human, such as myself, to become accustomed to it.

Natsume: It seems the visitors are having a wonderful tiME. Thanks to our developing the “SSVRS”, the idol fans who live far away can also experience this event in a simulated spaCE.

Put the VR goggles on and it’ll be like you’re also in the “Star Fest” venUE. If I remember correctLY, Venue No.13 and 14 are specifically venues for VR.

It appears most of the virtual idols who work within the internet world perform their activities theRE.

Souma: “Baacharu aidoru”... What is that? It makes me realise just how amazing our current era is.

Natsume: That’s exactly why antique-like people such as yourself have worTH – Worth in terms of rarity and archeoloGY.

Souma: That is what they call traditional performance arts.

Natsume: IndeED. I’m sure “that’s” where the way of life for magicians like us lies as weLL. I’m learning a lot things from your way of life, Mr. SamurAI ♪

Souma: It sounds as though you are giving me a compliment, but it also sounds as though you are making fun of me.

Natsume: That’s a misunderstandiNG. I just have a habit of rubbing people the wrong way with the way I speAK – Even I think it’s a bad habIT.

AnywAY, we just ended up chatting but did you two have business with mE? A ninja and samurai is quite a rare dUO…

Shinobu: No, we just saw you guys so we decided to say hello ~de gozaru. I’m a ninja who gets happy when I see someone I know and I’ll run up to them to say hi.

Natsume: Are you a puppy or somethiNG?

Shinobu: This will be a good opportunity, so I’d like to give my thanks once more.

Thank you for everything you’ve done this time, Sakasaki-dono. Thanks to you, we were able to confirm with our own two eyes that Mayoi-dono and Kurone-dono are safe.

Natsume: HeHE. I just answered a request so there’s no need to thank mE. Tetora-kun is paying for the compensation too, anywAY.

Shinobu: Huh? Compensation? W–What does he mean, Tetora-kun!?

Tetora: Well, I’m just doing one of the things he requested, is all.

Shinobu: R–Request? If you’re asking him to do something weird, then I won’t let you off the hook so easily, Sakasaki-dono!

Natsume: Don’t lump me with that “Phantom”-kUN… I just asked him to casually patrol the venue just in caSE.

Shinobu: Hmm. Sakasaki-dono, are you expecting something to happen at the “Star Fest” venues?

Natsume: YeAH. In faCT, there’s no way nothing is going to happEN – That’s what I think at leaST.

But in order to grant Little Kitten and Shinobu-kun’s wish the other dAY, we got far too close to the tabOO.

Come into contact with it and you’ll be met with misfortuNE. A tragedy will occUR. That’s common sense from the shadoWS – an ironclad ruLE – of this industry that’s unknown to the childrEN.

Surprisingly enouGH, nothing has happened so far so it’s rather unexpectED. It even feels like a let-doWN.

At the very leaST, if you come into contact with the darkness swirling undergrouND, then the “bad thing” will eruPT. That’s what’s supposed to happen, right, Souma-kUN?

Souma: Indeed. Therefore, on the night Sengoku and Anzu-dono were sent off into the underground, Mikejima-dono and I waited nearby, at the ready, should anything happen.

Naturally, the “bad thing” cannot be purified if it’s not done at the hands of Shinkai-dono. We simply have knowledge of how to deal with it to a certain extent, but it would only serve as a temporary peace of mind.

Natsume: If anythiNG, why didn’t you call for Kanata Nii-san that dAY?

Souma: Currently, the religion has been dissolved and Shinkai-dono has been relieved of his godly duties – I do not wish to involve him with matters pertaining to “this side”.

Judging by the particulars of the events in Okinawa, it is possible that will surely follow Shinkai-dono for life.

But even so, I do not wish for him to return to being a god. I would like him to simply be a person who soaks in the water fountain or enjoys eating seafood.

Although, that is merely my self-righteousness and my being unreasonable…

Natsume: (I had a feeling that’s how you felt, “Kanzaki-kun – the god-cleaver[⁎]” I suppose this was something I wasn’t quite expectiNG.)

(There are still unknown mysteries that have yet to be revealed in this eRA… I wanted to turn this so-called “bad thing” into a new form of “magic” for uS.)

(I don’t know if this “bad thing” even exists in the first plaCE. But one thing for sure is that the one at the tOP, who’s controlling the idol industry right nOW, definitely thinks it exisTS.)

(That was proven in that chaotic sports festivAL. The elderly who still believe in God fear the “bad thing” that’s connected to GoD.)

(That would have been the most effective weapon in controlling or keeping them in check and destroying thEM.)

(It’s fine, thouGH. Profits would have been gained if it was successful – that’s all there was to iT. Our other magIC, “SSVRS” is most certainly expanding into realiTY.)

(By saving a lot of people as a fortune-tellER, my reputation will escalaTE – particularly at YumenosaKI.)

(I’ll use trickeRY – everythiNG – and I’ll obtain the right to change this worLD.)

(All to prevent nights where I will no longer cry myself to sleEP – This time it will be doNE.)

Souma: ? What is the matter, Sakasaki-dono? You have a wicked look on your face…

Natsume: It’s nothiNG. AnywAY, I have an interesting piece of informatiON.

Souma: You openly changed the subject. What is this interesting piece of information you speak of?

Natsume: WeLL, it appears Mika-kun is planning some sort of surprise party for his precious frieND…

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ← Previous Chapter ᠂ ⚘ ˚⊹˚ ⚘ ᠂  Next Chapter →

[yellowfingcr]

"You, radiance and light of the sun itself given form, do not know what I see in you? Beloved shadow mine..." A calloused hand takes her own while the other holds her cheek, thumb caressing her knuckles even as he smiles softly. "As if I am not likewise caught fast in the sheerness of you and your love, immaterial and phantasmal though you seek so often to be. You who, for all that your sharpness and cruelty in a likewise cruel world is known, would bind the world by your will into something kinder than ever a god or man could conceive... as if I could have ever hoped to resist. As if I would ever have considered resisting you." His lips brush her forehead, then his gently bumps into her own. "If I be mountain-cut and fire-strong, let it be known that by the river of you have I been shaped and that by the love of you my flames be fed. Let it be known that the sum of you, assassin and sorceress and scholar each without peer, are each in their turn deserving of more than I could hope to give... yet I will strive all my days to do so, deserving of it and much more that you are."

Leviathan help her, but he wasn’t supposed to know like this! He wasn’t supposed to learn that sentence so frictionlessly, nothing at all lost in the path to his ears! Heysel thinks he knew already but regardless he should have discovered the swallowed fish hook in her heart by sussing out the protrusion, feeling it press hard against his fingertip and there intuit the secret wound, understood and unspoken. Certainly he wasn’t meant to scalpel her chambers open, nor present the bloody thing, sharp and gleaming and awful, between both their hands. 

“Brom, I- gods. You take what I say too seriously,” she chuckles, too quick for honest mirth, “It’s not.. well, I just-”

Her eyes, so wide under his touch, as his fingers find hers, his brow her brow; and against the honesty of him she thinks she could melt like wax. What can she even say? What are the words for it? You are so impossibly warm it makes me candle-skinned, my every border soft for you, just for you. I trust you so wholly I want you to make this of me. Liquid and luminous and edgeless, a star held in the cup of your arms. 

She inhales. Exhales. 

“...No. No, no excuses from me.” Her gloved palm sets, gently, over the hand cradling her cheek. “I could try to say oh no, but ‘twas a mere jest!, but we both know it was only to a degree. My disbelief is real. I did mean that. But I believe you more, because you are the single most important thing in my life, and- that’s what matters, I think. You would not say what… all of what you’ve just told me if you didn’t mean it. Which was, by the way. Just. Ah.”

Heysel, who was Goldfinch, who is sharp and cruel, garrote woman of beartrap mercy, by all means bashfully looks away, for a moment. Under the dark skin of her face, rising heat, then a clearing of her throat.

“I am trying. I mean, what I’m attempting, the whole- ridiculous, overcomplicated math I’m doing- it’s. My gods I am terrible at this."

"If I have kindness it has been whetted into the polished thing it is because of you. You are tender. You’ve offered me tenderness. Me. I think I’m still dealing with the notion. I’ve spent my whole life making myself less than a shadow, and I don’t regret it, but, still, to deserve someone of your magnitude of beauty, to be someone who exists, truly and entirely, with someone this splendid, who wants me in his life, who feels for me, I’ve- no. I’m again wandering off in strange directions, and I’m rambling. When there is really only a few things that I need to say.”

A beat. She looks at him and there is no mirror and no smoke and there is only Heysel, who leans forward to press a kiss to his lips, a private little thing, unhurried and light. When she draws back, a secret of a smile.

“Thank you. I love you.”