#the other day i thought. why is my hatred worth it. why am i continuing with this?

[gr1mstar]

Timeless lover - part II

notes: this is a second part of an one shot i did a few days ago. i don’t think it will be a part III because my account is dying? i think i was reported once and from then my post don’t get much the attention anymore. how can i fix this?

contains: sukuna ryomen x f!reader, reincarnation, past lovers, curse words (not a lot of them), sfw, human sukuna (from that time when he was actually human), flashbacks, lovers to strangers, mentions of death, sick reader (in the past), sorcerer reader (present time), sukuna has sentiments?, sukuna is soft for reader, past sukuna looks kinda like itadori yuji, not the same tho, but very similar, mention of pills, slightly an au because sukuna will never be this nice, reader is older than yuji but sukuna is older? that makes sense?

check out the first part first if you didn’t already - here

“sukuna”

“sukuna. that’s my name, keep that in mind, doll” the man in front of you spoke, taking your chin in his big hands and forcing you to look him in the eyes.

‘what a shade of red…’ you thought, analyzing the irises that looked at you with almost hatred. ‘i despise red.’ you continued, continuing to look in his direction, seeing that he was not backing up.

“not afraid, i see. what a particular sight,” he muttered, finally leaving your chin alone. after some time, he took a few steps back, running his hand through his hair. “what are you exactly?”

“what do you mean?” you found yourself asking, now looking at the tree that stood tall beside you two.

“are you not afraid to die? people usually are scared of me, fearing that i would fight them and win, resulting in their death.” the man continued, taking a few steps just to be beside you.

thinking back, when you were younger you were afraid of death. it was a terrifying thought, but after all the bullshit you went through, you found yourself not having the exact same mentality.

your time was limited, death being the only thing you were certain it was coming for you. what did you have? nothing. so that’s why you set out to live your life to the fullest, or well… how much is left of it.

you were strong. stronger than others.

“no. only the weak are afraid.”

the familiar man that stood in front of you, one intimidating, now was a big puppy, his eyes showed emotions, emotions that a curse should never have. so what was different?

“my love, no time no see…” he stared, taking a few steps in your direction, his arms parting, beckoning you to come closer to him for a hug.

‘is he crazy? what happened to yuji?’ but you were never able to answer your question, because he interrupted your thoughts.

“didn't you miss me? i've been waiting for you for hundreds of years… love-”

“don’t. i am not such a thing.” now was your time to interrupt him, taking a step back. looking at your surroundings, you found megumi looking at you with shock, a light line of blood staining his face. “megumi,” you continued, addressing the back-haired boy, “run.”

“i think i will remember you always,” you confessed, looking at the man who stood behind you, a hand on your waist and the other in your hair.

looking at the sky, you could see the millions of stars smiling happily back at you. the night was peaceful, but you knew well that the following morning would not be.

“and you will never forget about the scolding you will receive tomorrow” he continued, placing a sweet kiss in your hair.

“maybe. but it was worth it. you deserve all my time”

“and you deserve all the world, my love.” was his response, closing his eyes and praying that you would be fine.

the stars were bright and you could not stop yourself from asking: ‘when i become a star too, i will shine this beautifully?’

“so. where is it?” the white-haired man asked, hands in his pocket and looking between me, megumi, and now-yuji-really-yuji.

there was a moment of silence, the sensei looking funnily at the three sorcerers. you found the silence ironic, so you tried to break it using a fake cough, but yuji beat you to it, speaking.

“i- i kinda ate that thing.”

another pause. now you were eyeing megumi, who looked somewhat constipated. it was true really, it was a very shitty moment-

“really?”

“yes, really. i am fine, kuna. you don’t need to worry, go to your mission, beat some ass, and came back to me for my cuddles, okay?” you tried to make a compromise, but the red-eye man that stood in front of you didn’t want to listen.

“i’m not going. the maid told me that you were feeling lightheaded all morning, i want to be with you-”

“but people would die if you’re not going, sukuna. i don’t want-”

“let them die fucking hell. who is more important?” he interrupted you, his angry face making you roll your eyes. he was a stubborn bitch when he wanted.

after a moment of silence, he started approaching you, taking your neck gently with his hand and making you look at him. “answer me. who is more important?”

you wanted to scream in his face that ‘the rest of the world is more important than me. who i am? a sick woman simping over a handsome man”, but you could not do that. it was going to make him more angry than he was already.

“me. i’m the important one.”

“good girl”

“so… what’s your relationship with sukuna? the king of curses, really?” the principal asked, looking from behind his glasses at you, with an eyebrow raised.

“i really don’t know. he looked at me… somewhat differently than the rest. i think he knew me from somewhere, but i don’t know.” was your response, signing and putting your head against the couch cushion.

“in any case, we must be careful. it's sukuna after all, we have to expect anything.” gojo responded, playing with his blindfold.

it was strange to see gojo wearing a blindfold reader than the glasses you were used to. the first time you saw him, you asked about it, his response making you feel bad for him.

at the same time, you could not resist asking him: “kinky much?”

“gojo is right. let’s be careful.” yoga spoke, and then continued. “now, what about yuji?”

“what about him? he would not be a part of the jujutsu high?” you found satoru asking, his now naked eye looking at yaga.

he looked so… intimidating without something covering his eyes.

“the elders want him killed.” the principal continued.

“no”

“what do you mean no?”

“i said no, kuna. meeting my parents would be a bad thing,” you said, looking at your pale hand. sukuna was playing with your fingers.

“but why?” he complained, looking like a kid who just got his candy stolen. “it could be a great opportunity to show them you are in good hands-”

“no, sukuna.” you interrupted him, taking a break from his attitude. “they would freak out and probably never allow me to meet you ever again.”

“i could kill them-” he started speaking, but you interrupted him harshly.

“absolutely not.”

“how are you feeling?”

“the same really. i mean it was pretty gross at the beginning but it went away.” yuji spoke happily, making his way to sit beside you on a bench.

the conversation you had a few minutes ago was still fresh, but you were glad that gojo was able to convince the higher-ups to not execute yuji.

“i’m glad you are okay, yuji. i heard you can control him too?”

“yes and no. i feel his presence in my mind, i can feel him too.”

“so you… you have any idea how he knows me?” you asked, a little bit of hope lingering in the air.

“not really. he always bothers me about you, but at the same time he doesn’t want to talk with you.”

“why you don’t wanna talk with me? kuna!”

you were met with silence. you could feel that he was annoyed, but somewhat you liked how he looked all… angry. he was sexy. the red eyes that stared at you a few minutes ago were now filled with jealousy, and the little crease on his forehead was just too cute to ignore.

“are you jealous?” you continued your question, tilting your head a little bit to the right to look at him better.

‘i would kill for this man’ you found yourself thinking, admiring his attractive features.

“no. i just don’t like the way he looks at you.” and then he continued, taking your head in his big hands, leaving a little kiss on the tip of the nose. “you are mine.”

“yours always.”

“he what?” you shouted, tightly clutching the phone to your ear as if it was ready to fly out of the blue.

“he ripped his heart out.” magumi answered again, then continued “you should come here, maybe say goodbye? i don’t really know.”

and so you did, and in a few minutes, you were at the jujutsu high, ready to see a poor boy who fell pray in the hands of a curse.

“you were with him?”

“yes.” the black-haired boy answered, immediately sighing. “i saw everything.”

“where was gojo?” you asked again, getting on your feet and ready to kick the white hair man’s ass.

“i don’t fucking know.”

seeing a dead person on the table was not something you were planning to see on your holiday in tokyo. yuji, now fully naked, was lying cold on the operating table. gojo just left the room to bring shoko to examine the boy, so you were all alone with a dead corpse and possibly a curse inside.

“sukuna…”

you were not sure what got into you, but somehow you found yourself talking with yuji and in the same time with sukuna.

“i know, you hate humans and shit. and i’m sorry i don’t remember you, or that i know you? i’m confused. i just… can i ask something?”

you sighed.

“can you bring yuji back? for me?”

a few minutes passed in silence. it was childish, really. thinking that ‘the king of curses’ would respond and listen to a human.

but it did. sukuna brought yuji back.

“happy birthday, princess.” started your lover, holding out a bouquet of wildflowers to you. it was not well done, some flowers were poorly placed and some even had some weeds next to them, but you appreciated the gesture.

“it’s so beautiful, kuna.” you responded, making your way to him for a kiss. “when did you have time to make thus?”

“i’ll always make time for you, you know that.” he responded, taking another sweet kiss from you. “nos, make a wish.”

“a wish?” you asked, “but didn't we need a cake for that? and candles?”

“just pretend, you know. we don’t have a cake right now, and it’s almost midnight. you show to make a wish.”

“okay, okay.” you laughed, taking the bouquet and hugging it.

‘i wish… to be with him forever’

“no! i can’t be with you. you are-”

“i’m what? last time we met, those weren’t your words, love.” the red-eyed man spoke, taking a few steps in your direction.

“it was all in the past. last time we met? that was a few weeks ago, sukuna. i don’t know you!” you shouted, keeping a fair share of distance. “i’m not your love anymore, so just give up, forget all about it.”

“i can’t do that. you know that, my love. i can’t”

“bring yuji back,” you commanded, looking at the man in front of you with despair.

he told you the truth. all your dreams and all your nightmares were just memories. memories from your past life, and so you lied to him that you didn’t remember anything, too afraid to tell the truth.

your life has just been turned upside down by a boy who ate your ex-boyfriend's finger. what a beautiful life you have, isn't it?

“kuna,” you asked, playing with your lover's hair.

“yes, princess?”

“i want you all to myself. i want to always be with you, together.”

“bring yuji back, you monster!”

“you are not a monster, kuna. you are a beautiful man, with a big heart. people just misunderstand you.”

“i hate you. i hate you, you broke me. because of you, i have insomnia, because of you i’m miserable. because of you, i used to think i’m crazy, you piece of shit”

“i love you. i will always love you. because of you, i smile more, because of you i feel alive again and because of you i will die at peace, knowing that you will be here when i wake up again, waiting for me.” you spoke gently, taking his rough hand in yours.

“promise me, kuna. promise me that you will find me in my next life, and we will be together again, even though i will not remember anything.”

“i’m not breaking my promise, princess.”

© 2024 gr1mstar — all rights reserved. please do not copy, modify, repost, translate, or claim my content as yours.

the photos were taken from pinterest

tags: @wr4inn @cyzvx @sunnshinie @guinevere666 @periodbloodmanipulator @esauritamaviva @uhnanix @shadowstar123

[sherlollyandspoilers]

We're worth it, Chapter 27, March 20th

Chapters 1 through 26 of We’re Worth It can be found here Here be Dragons is the original fic that this fic is a companion piece for - HBD timeline: Chapter 18, before the epilogue

March 20th, 2017

“It was very burnt…Mina is still picking on him about it,” Molly giggled, thinking about all the snarky comments their daughter had been making about Sherlock’s failed attempt to bake a pie.

“Why were you baking a pie so early?” June asked, laughing.

“It was Pie Day,” he said simply but she raised an eyebrow in question. “March 14th, three one four, it’s one of the ways to note the date.”

“Ohhh, three point one four.” June nodded in understanding. “I am surprised that you acknowledge that way of noting the date.”

He shrugged. “Bad science pun. Plus, Mina thought it was funny…at the time,” he mumbled the last few words. The two women exchanged a look, stifling giggles.

“Soooo,” June dragged it out, indicating the shift in conversation, “did you talk with your therapist about your stag party? About trusting yourself?”

Sherlock nodded as he leaned forward. “It was a good session. I don’t think – ” he sighed, cutting himself off before taking a deep breath. “I will always be an addict, but for right now, am in a very good place and with Greyson starting to sleep through the night my concern that I might be triggered is very low.” Both Molly and June nodded in understanding. “We talked about how my drug use is not just a simple impulsive act but a deep rooted, toxic coping mechanism for my self-hatred.”

“Buzz words…” Molly whispered, making June giggle quietly.

“Hush,” Sherlock scoffed at her, but smirked. “Obviously, I am not going to walk into the middle of a drug den right now – bad idea – but I am also not in the middle of withdrawal, nor have I had any cravings in months.” He shifted in his seat, an indication, June had learned, of him striving to get his wording accurate. “Right now, I need to focus on my self-doubt when it comes to being a husband and a father.”

“Focusing on that will help you feel more secure in your sobriety?” June asked and he nodded. “Okay.” Looking at Molly, “It’s been a while since you have needed an individual session – any concerns with dissociation, triggers, feeling overwhelmed?”

Molly shook her head with a smile, “No, I’ve been feeling great! Really focused at work…haven’t cut up the wrong dead body yet.” June smiled at her, glad that Molly had become comfortable enough with being herself in session. “I’ve been doing my best to review my warning signs list at least once a week and I practice my skills with Mina.”

“I love hearing that – she will be well set up in the future to help herself regulate, that’s great!” She paused a moment before continuing, “With the wedding next month, unless you two can think of something more urgent, I say we focus today’s work on how you two as a couple can help Sherlock with his self-doubt.” They both nodded in agreement. “Let’s start with how things are going with being mindful of sharing how you are feeling with each other.”

Molly sighed, “It is possible to check-in with your significant other too often?”

“Nope,” Sherlock popped his lips.

She turned to him, gaping. “You asked for two check-ins an hour last night.”

“Oh,” June nodded in understanding. “Yeah, that can be a lot of checking-in and emotional sharing.”

“SO MUCH!” Molly huffed, but June could tell she wasn’t really mad. “I don’t want to limit us being open,” she held her hand out and he took it, “But I don’t need to tell you that I am having the same emotion 7 times in one night either.” She squeezed his hand in emphasis.

He thought for a moment. “I may have over done it last night.” He brought her hand to his lips and kissed it. “I will aim for no more than 3 check-ins a night…on average.” A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.

“Thank you.” Molly shook her head.

June looked between the two of them, “That is a really good compromise for you two.” She turned her attention back to Sherlock. “Can you explain what you meant last session when you said,” she checked the notebook on her desk to make sure she got it right, “I mess up when things are good?”

Sherlock nodded but stayed quiet for a moment while he thought. “All of our problems started…” he stopped when he noticed June’s frown. Clearing his throat, he continued, “One of the first moments of this in our relationship was when I choose to stay at Baker Street after I got out of the hospital instead of going home.”

June nodded when she realized he thought he had explained himself fully, “Okay…I think I am going to need more of a connection than that, especially since we have talked about this decision in a different context before – can you expound?”

“I know I’ve brought up that I was angry at myself for that decision because in reality it did nothing for Molly and Mina’s safety, nor did it assist in my working of the Magnussen case.” He paused to take a deep breath, “The reality is that I got in my head and told myself that my presence in their lives was a risk…and that I was not worth the risk.”

June opened her mouth, but Sherlock was staring at the ground so when she noticed Molly frown and turn her head to look out the window, she kept quiet, watching them. Molly’s brow furrowed deeper, and she gave an angry sigh through her nose, before turning back to her fiancé.

“You have always been worth the risk.” Her words were intense, and her expression was hard, serious. Sherlock looked up at her, taken back by her severity. “Sherlock, I helped you fake your death for fucks sake.” Righteous anger rolled off her. “Do you remember asking me why I was risking everything for you?” He was silent as he nodded yes, of course. “I told you then that you were worth it.”

“Molly, it’s not that I don’t believe you, I just – ” he started but she cut him off.

“Oh, I know you believe me!” Tears were streaming down her face. “I am not angry with you. I am angry with the situation – I am furious that your brain constantly lies to you about how I feel about you.” She roughly wiped her face. “I chose you a long time ago and if everything we have been through so far hasn’t changed that, nothing will.” Grabbing his hand, she forced him to look her in the eye again. “I choose you.”

He was silent as he stood, pulling her up with him, and gathered her in his arms, silently burying his face in the crock of her neck.

June smiled to herself as she turned her gaze out the window, giving them a moment.

After a minute or so, she heard Sherlock quietly tell Molly that he chose her too before releasing his hold on her. They took a moment to adjust themselves and get settled back into their chairs.

June nodded to them both. “It has been a long time since we discussed affirmations, but I think in light of this conversation, that it would be a good idea to add it back into your daily routines.” They both nodded. “Good, I think it will also help you feel really solid as you go into the wedding as well.”

[starryevermore]

meet me in the afterglow ✧ wrecker

angst city™ library | send in a request (consult request faqs first)

request: I saw u were looking for star wars requests, so here I am!! I'm obsessed with your Cross and Wrecker works, so 👉🏻👈🏻 Wrecker please? Your angsty Cross one was so good, would you consider imp!Wreck & f!reader? Make it angsty & smutty, a lil fluffy, whatever you think works, just go ham! If that doesn't take your fancy, I'd love to see some traditional Wrecker content - oh oh oh oh protective Wrecker, my beloved. Or Echo! Idk I just love your stuff and I'm dying to see you write more for the clones bc I think you write them very well  Sincerely, imarvelatthestars (but from my main ✌🏻) - @imarvelatthestars​

pairing: imperial!wrecker x medic!fem!reader

summary: wrecker has to trust the empire, even if they are trying to take you away from him. (but even he can’t deny the crumbling foundation of his faith.)

word count: 3,839

warnings?: 18+ MINORS DNI, smut, a little angsty, pre-destruction of kamino, canon divergent, au where wrecker stayed with the empire instead of crosshair, piv sex, unprotected sex, pet name (pretty girl), not proofread

Wrecker hated when other people touched you. They weren’t gentle with you. They didn’t treat you like you were a precious gem, something to be cherished, something to be treasured. And while his own hands were designed for destruction, he always made sure that you never knew of the blood that stained him. You were good, you were sweet, you were kind. You looked at him like he was something more than a soldier, something more than Kaminoan property. You treated him like he was something special, and all Wrecker wanted to do was treat you the same way.

But, kriff, no one else seemed to treat you like that. Not the regs, not the Kaminoans, not the Imperial officers. No one else seemed to realize you deserved to be treated like you were everything.

Sometimes, that was the only thing that made him question staying with the Empire. If no one could appreciate you like him, why should you and him remain? He should just scoop you up, steal a ship, and get to the first planet where he could provide you a good life. But, the Empire could provide a good life, too, right? If he continued to be a good soldier, if he continued to follow orders, if he continued to prove himself useful, it would amount to something. Right?

So, he tried to hold back on following instincts and ripping off the hands of the other people who dared to touch you. He had to be a good soldier. Good soldiers do not attack without orders to do so.

And yet, when he walked into the medbay and saw one of the regs reaching out toward you, his hand almost coming to rest on your hip, Wrecker wanted to dismember the man and beat him with his own limbs. Wrecker didn’t realize he had let out a low growl until your head whipped around to look at him, the reg’s eyes widening as he looked at Wrecker. The reg pulled his hand away. 

You looked over in the corner, where one of the Imperial officers stood. A few months ago, one of the natborns had gotten too handy with you and Wrecker nearly killed the man. The punishment had been worth it, but ever since, an officer was stationed in the medbay to prevent such situations from arising again. In the back of Wrecker’s mind, though, he couldn’t help but wonder if the officer was there to protect you or if he was there to incapacitate Wrecker if he acted out.

“Take a seat on the cot over there and I’ll be with you shortly,” you said, turning your attention back to the reg. 

Wrecker went to the other side of the room and sat on the cot. It sank under his weight. Wrecker ground his teeth together. Every day, it seemed, hatred began to burrow further and further into his chest. When Wrecker decided to stay with the Empire, to not follow his brothers in their desertion, he thought things would be different. He had been promised that things would be better. And, for a time, things were better. He was given a squad to lead, he was allowed to be more than the muscle and explosives specialist. He was allowed to be more. But, as the days passed by, as the days became months, Wrecker was all too aware that he still wasn’t respected. Kriff, they wouldn’t even get cots that could support him without threat of falling in. 

“Alright, you’re good to go,” you said to reg, finishing off the bandage on his shoulder. “Change your wrappings every couple hours, and keep an eye out for any infections. Come straight here if it gives you any trouble, okay?”

“Can I come even if it doesn’t give me trouble?”

You turned away, busying yourself with cleaning your tools. You looked at Wrecker, then the officer. “That would be inappropriate, trooper. My job is to treat injured soldiers. Such duties cannot be interfered with.”

“If you change your mind—”

“I will not.” You glanced up at Wrecker again, then back to your tools. You swallowed hard. “My duty is to the Empire.”

Wrecker looked at his feet, guilt weighing heavily on his chest. A good soldier does not question his superiors, he reminded himself. The Empire had done so much for him. Who was he to question them? To act as if he knew better? 

“Well—”

“Don’t you have training to go to, trooper?” the officer cut in.

The reg’s mouth snapped shut, though his eyes widened for a moment, just a fraction of a second, as if he forgot that the officer was there. He gave a curt nod, muttering a thank-you to you, then left the medbay without another word. 

As you finished cleaning your tools, you looked at the officer, offering a tight-lipped smile. “Thank you, sir.”

The officer nodded, watching you closely as you crossed the room to where Wrecker sat. Guilt still ate at him, chastising him for daring to think that the Empire wouldn’t do anything to protect you. Of the Empire would protect you. Wrecker had no reason to believe the Empire wouldn’t. 

You cast another glance at the officer before greeting Wrecker by saying his number. “How can I help you today?”

“Got blown up on the last mission,” Wrecker said, the tightness in his chest loosening as you rested a hand on his arm while looking him over for any obvious injuries. 

Your eyes immediately met his, your brows furrowed together in concern. Then you glanced back at the officer again and your face dropped, void of emotion. “Good thing you came here then. Can’t have our troopers harboring hidden injuries,” you said. 

Wrecker felt the hidden meaning behind the words. I’m glad you’re here. I want to take care of you. 

“That’s why I came here.”

The corner of your mouth lifted. You knew he meant, I love when you take care of me. 

Wrecker wasn’t very good at speaking in codes. He was a very direct sort of person. But, when it came to you, he was willing to speak in a language only the two of you understood. Like the Kaminoans before them, the Empire did not tolerate the clones having…relations. That never stopped Wrecker from loving you (how could it?), but it did limit the way he could express his feelings toward you. 

“Can you lay back so I can examine you?”

That was something Wrecker loved about you. You always asked permission, always made sure what you were doing was okay. It made Wrecker feel like a person, like he was something more than a soldier. Something more than a number. 

He removed some of his armor so that you could perform the examination before he laid back against the cot. Wrecker relaxed under your touch, the stress from the mission slowly melting away. You asked a few questions as you examined him, trying to determine if he was experiencing any pain. It was a bit hard to answer, if only because he could fall asleep under the gentleness of your touch. 

Then, he heard someone say your name. Wrecker sat up as you turned around, looking towards the door. 

“Vice Admiral Rampart,” you greeted. “Is there something wrong, sir?”

Rampart shook his head. “Oh, no, not at all.”

“Do ya have another mission fer me?” Wrecker asked. 

He hoped Rampart didn’t say yes. Wrecker had been looking forward to an evening with you. Usually when Wrecker got back from a mission, he had a day or two on Kamino before he was sent off on another mission. It had become routine for you to sneak into Wrecker’s bunk, or him into yours, and spend the time together. This last mission had lasted two weeks, and he was really itching for some alone time with you. 

However, Rampart ignored Wrecker, his focus entirely on you, as he said, “I’ve come to deliver the good news in person.”

“Good news?” you repeated, brows knit together. “I’m sorry, sir, but I wasn’t expecting any news.”

“There was an opening for a charge nurse,” Rampart explained. “After much consideration, you were determined to be the best fit for the position.”

Wrecker tensed. There was more to this, he was sure of it. It didn’t make sense for Rampart to come deliver this news. Wrecker just couldn’t figure out what was wrong.

“Oh. That’s wonderful. Thank you, sir,” you said. “I didn’t realize there was an opening here.”

“Oh, no, you misunderstand. The opening isn’t on Kamino. You’ll be going to Coruscant first thing tomorrow morning,” Rampart said. It was impossible to ignore his sly smirk. Wrecker wanted to punch it right off his face. 

Your mouth opened then closed. Wrecker noticed how your hands trembled, no matter how you tried to keep them steady. “It’s an incredible opportunity. I look forward to it. Thank you again, sir.”

Rampart looked over at Wrecker, his smirk growing, before he looked back at you. “It will be a shame to lose you, of course. Few nurses can take…such good care of our soldiers.”

You offered a tight-lipped smile. “I'm sure my replacement will be just as capable. The Empire only employs the best.”

“That we do.” Rampart’s smirk turned more into a sly grin. “Well, I won’t keep you from your work any longer.”

“Thank you again, sir…I appreciate the opportunity to better serve the Empire.”

Rampart nodded and began to leave. But before he reached the door, he turned back around. He said Wrecker’s number, making Wrecker straighten, nervous for what was to come. “There is a mission for you. You’ll be training soldiers on Daro starting tomorrow. Come to office when you’re done here and we’ll discuss the specifics.”

Wrecker nodded. “Yes, sir.”

Rampart left and, when you looked back at Wrecker, your eyes were glassy. Wrecker’s fingers dug into his leg, fighting the urge to reach out, to caress your face, to let you know that everything would be okay. But he didn’t have the luxury to comfort you. Not now. Not under the watchful eyes of the Empire.

Instead, Wrecker said, “Congratulations on the promotion. You’ll have to celebrate.”

I hate that they’re making you leave. I need to see you before they take you away from me.

“Thank you. I look forward to better serving the Empire.” You pushed on Wrecker’s shoulder, encouraging him to lie back down again. He did. You started your examination again. “I’ll have to celebrate this opportunity when I’m free.”

I hate this, too. When the day is over, I’m yours.

For the rest of the day, Wrecker felt like he was running on autopilot. He barely listened during his meeting with Rampart. He could hardly focus during his training. He wasn’t even entirely sure he managed to eat anything.

How could the Empire do this? How could they rip you away from him? Why was the Empire taking one of the few joys he had in his life? 

By the time the day turned the night and all of his and your obligations were satisfied for the day, Wrecker was ready to take you away from your job, carry you to your room, and worship you. Thankfully, he was able to restrain himself for long enough that he knew that he would less likely to be caught.

Now, Wrecker stood outside your door, Lula clutched in one hand. He raised his fist, rapping his knuckle on the door once, twice, three times. A beat passed, then two. The door opened, and you pulled him inside. You shut the door, twisted the lock, then threw your arms around him. 

Lula dropped from his hands. Wrecker lifted you, scooped you up in his arms, and walked over to your bunk. He settled on the mattress, holding you on his lap. You pressed your lips against him, kissing him so hard like you were trying become part of him. Wrecker slipped his hands down, resting them on your hips, tugging you closer to him. He needed to remember this. He needed to remember the feeling of you against him. He wasn’t sure if, when, he would ever get to experience this again. 

“I fucking hate this,” you mumbled against Wrecker’s lips. “Fuck the Empire. Fuck them for making me go away. I don’t wanna leave you.”

“Don’t say that. The Empire…It…” Wrecker tried to find the words to defend the government that had given him this sort of life, but nothing felt right. “We won’t be apart long. I know it. I just know it. I promise. You ain’t gettin’ rid o’ me.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Wreck,” you said. Your head dipped, nestling in the part where his neck met his shoulder. “This was always something that was gonna happen. We always knew this wasn’t…This isn’t the sort of thing that remains a secret, no matter how hard we try.”

Wrecker blinked. “You think…You think he knows about us?”

“Awfully convenient to send me away to Coruscant and you to Daro.” You let out a sigh, your breath tickling his neck. “I’m scared, Wreck. I don’t wanna lose you. I don’t want this to be our last night together.”

“It won’t. I’ll make sure of it.”

“Maybe we should have gone with your brothers. Maybe we should have listened.”

Wrecker pulled away, frowning at you. “You shouldn’t talk like that. The Empire…It…We have to…” Wrecker’s shoulders deflated and he tried again. “My brothers left us. How would that be any better?”

“At least they wouldn’t be separated. At least we’d be free to leave if they tried.”

Free? Wrecker’s head dipped, his cheek resting on the top of your head. He didn’t really know that word. Not in a practical way, anyways. Wrecker, his brothers, even the regs…None of them were supposed to know freedom. They were bred to fight, to lay down their lives for the Republic. In the absence of the Republic, they served the Empire. They were supposed to only know war and bloodshed and violence. He was never supposed to know the softness you offered him. 

But, even if he didn’t know the word, he loved the way you said it with such conviction. He loved you believed that the two of you could be free to live whatever life you and him so chose. Perhaps that was why he wanted to believe in the Empire. He wanted to trust that the Empire would treat you and him right. He wanted to believe that, one day, he would be done with fighting. He wanted to believe you and him would settle on some remote planet, somewhere quiet. Somewhere with a lot of forests, he thinks. Perhaps have a little farm. He would give you children, he would provide for you, he would give you the life you deserve. 

“…The Empire will give us that freedom.” And yet, despite his insistence, this faith in this system was starting to crumble. But he wasn’t sure for what he was going to fall into if he let it slip out from under him. 

You let out another sigh. “Forget I said anything. I don’t want us to argue now. I just wanna enjoy being with you while I still can.”

Wrecker nodded, kissing the top of your head. He was fine with that. He was fine with not thinking about how complicated and shitty and awful this all was. He was fine with not getting a headache from trying to sort through his feelings on the matter. He was fine with that. He just wanted you. 

His fingers slipped under your shirt, squeezing at your soft skin. Kriff, you were so warm. He loved that about you. Loved how you were a soft, little furnace curled up against him. His fingers dipped to the waistband of your pants. 

“Can I touch you?” Wrecker mumbled. “Wanna memorize the way you feel.”

Your breath hitched. “Please.”

Wrecker pulled your shirt off, grunting as it momentarily got stuck when he tried to get it over your head. This would be easier if he could just rip it off you, but he knew it upset you when your clothes got ruined, even if you did assure him it was fine. He threw your shirt to the floor. Your bra went next, joining the pile. 

Kriff, you were beautiful. No matter how many times you and him had ended up like this, Wrecker couldn’t quite wrap his mind around how you could be look like a goddess. Wrecker lifted you up slightly, pressing kisses down your neck, down your chest. When he reached your breasts, he spent some extra time cherishing you, taking a nipple into his mouth, giving it a gentle suck before moving to the next one and doing the same. 

“Kriff, Wreck,” you moaned. “That feels so good.”

“Good. Means ‘m doin’ my job.”

“Mm, need you to fuck me, Wreck. Need to feel you. Need you to do your job,” you breathed out. 

And, oh, Wrecker was eager to please. The remainder of your clothes then his were shed in quick succession. Maker, seeing you like that before him, aching for him, wanting him to make you feel good. Wrecker’s fingers dug into your hips (and, oh, wasn’t that a pretty sight too? Wrecker wanted to memorize the sight), guiding you down his cock. 

“Kark, you’re so big,” you whined, burying your face in Wrecker’s neck. Your teeth nipped at his skin. “Can’t ever get used to this. Could cum just like this.”

Wrecker’s chest puffed up. He loved knowing he had this effect on you. He loved knowing that he was the one who could make you feel this good. There wasn’t a lot of things that Wrecker could control, or even understand, but he knew how to do this. He knew what buttons to push, knew how to thrust into you just right, to make you fall apart. He loved it. He would do it all day, every day if he could. 

And, what was even better, was how good you made him feel. With your tight little cunt wrapped around his cock, he felt he died and gone straight to Heaven. As you rocked back and forth, your pussy nearly strangling his cock, he struggled to keep his moans to himself. He always tried to hold back a little in that regard, scared that if he was as loud as wanted to be, the two of you would be caught and he would lose you. But…He was already losing you, wasn’t he? What was the point in holding back now? 

No. He shouldn’t think like that. Everything was going to be fine. You were going to be fine. He was going to see you again. He just had to. He had to trust in the Empire. He pushed the thought, focusing on how you were squeezing his cock, pushing him closer and closer to his release. 

“Oh, Wrecker,” you moaned, fingernails digging into his shoulders. Your head was thrown back, eyes squeezed shut. 

His hands held your hips, guiding you up and down his cock. “That’s it, pretty girl,” he grunted. “Make a mess all over me. Show me who makes you feel this good.”

“You do—fuck, I’m gonna—”

“Go ahead, pretty girl. ‘m right behind ya.”

You fell apart around him, your thighs shaking, your body trembling. You collapsed against his chest as he continued to thrust up into you, his own release following close behind. He came with a shout, arms wrapping around you to keep you close. 

“I love you,” he mumbled, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. 

“I love you, too, Wreck. So much.”

The two of you remained like that for a few minutes, basking in each other’s afterglow. But then Wrecker remembered something he wanted to do, something he needed to do before it was too late. He rose from the bed, you still in his arms.

“Stay here just a second, pretty girl,” Wrecker said, setting you down on your bed. 

“Huh?”

He got up, going over to where the fallen Lula was. Carefully, he picked her up before turning back to you. You were watching his, brows furrowed, trying to figure out what he was doing. He walked back over to you.

“Take Lula,” Wrecker said, pressing the Tooka doll into your hands. You stared at him, your jaw slack. “Take care of ‘er, okay?”

“I will.”

“No, ‘m telling ‘er to take care of you. She’s taken care of me fer so long. Need ‘er to do the same fer you.”

“Oh, Wrecker,” you sniffled, cradling Lula close to your chest. You scooted over in your bed, making room for him, and pat the mattress. He slid up next you, slinging an arm around your waist. “You’re the kindest man I’ve ever met.”

“Only ta you,” he said. He kissed you, trying to memorize the feeling of your lips against his. “I don’t want this to be our last night together.”

“We’ll figure something out. We always do. I won’t let them keep us separated.”

Wrecker pulled you closer, pressing your face against his chest. He didn’t want you to see him cry. He didn’t want you to see him start to doubt himself, to doubt the decisions he had made to land here. Because…maybe he was wrong. About the Empire, he means. Maybe he should have taken you and left with his brothers when he had the chance. Maybe he should have ran away with you a long time ago. 

“We need to trust the Empire,” he mumbled, trying to reassure himself. 

I’m scared.

You sucked in a breath, then said, “The Empire knows best.”

I’m scared, too.

“Can you tell me about your day?” Wrecker asked. “I like hearing you talk.”

I want to remember the way you sound, just in case this is the last time I get to see you. 

“Only if you tell me about your mission.”

Talking to you is the only thing keeping me calm. 

“Deal.”

And as you began to tell him about all the things you had done today, Wrecker found his eyes shutting. They felt damp with tears. Maybe if he shut his eyes, they wouldn’t fall. Maybe he could control that, if he couldn’t control this. 

This was going to be fine. It had to be. Because, if it wasn’t…Wrecker wasn’t sure he could handle it. And he couldn’t let you know that. If he was doubting himself, how could you ever have faith in him to make this all right? He was going to make this right. He had to. He had to give you the life you deserved, far, far away from the dark shadow the Empire was casting, the shadow that Wrecker wasn’t sure if he could ignore. 

(He never made it right.)

[shih-coulda-had-it]

Just so you know, the assignment was something among the lines of "use these words to write a short story" and I may have went slightly overboard. Rushed? Obviously. The ending was literally write in the middle of the lesson. But that's the effort that counts right? (Please I hope it sends in one ask)

It was a bad idea. Obviously. It wasn't worth the risk. Right. Right? He was definitely losing his mind or has lost it already if even a part of him thought it was anything else.

Nana would laugh in his face if she were to see this. Or, more likely, yell at him for being such an idiot who didn't care about himself at all. Well damn, he was running out of ideas, sue him. And that? That seemed like an opportunity. An opportunity to reach a confinement between them. To keep him safe without becoming fugitives and hiding for years, if not decades.

Torino exhaled slowly, eyes locking on the man in front of him. To a certain extent, it was funny to realize how hard it was to believe that he could actually look even benevolent when they were not trying to murder each other.

It was almost nice, actually. To sit like that in a quiet cafe, doing small talk as if they were old friends and one of them wasn't the reason the other had spent days trying to wash the blood off himself. To a certain degree, the hero still couldn't get rid of this feeling, of how hideous he'd felt reeking of metal and ashes. How his self hatred surfaced the moment he was finally left alone and how drained he was of any energy to shed even a single tear and-

"Sorahiko," the villain's voice startled him and he gasped for air sharply, eyes darting to the white haired man who looked so damn genuinely concerned that he felt sick to the bone. This couldn't be right, he couldn't be even capable of that, he was just a fu- "Sorahiko," All for One repeated, this time placing a hard on his shoulder, and the gesture was so weirdly soothing that he flinched at this. "I am not going to hurt you. You know that, Sorahiko. Otherwise I would've done so already."

He registered, in the back of his mind, that it was likely to be an effect of a nerve soothing quirk, it must've been also touch based, because the moment All for One pulled away, anxiety washed over him again.

"Why?" He choked out more of a sob than a solid question, making the villain frown in confusion and worry. "Why even make an effort? You could've just killed me. Could've- you could've come for him and, I don't know, used some quirk on him to make him-"

"But I didn't. And I am not planning to, at least, not yet," he shook his head with a sigh. "Truth is, I'm tired of this, Sorahiko. Think about it. My brother was murdered years, decades ago and I'm still trying to get the last thing left of him only to meet newer and newer generations of people trying to murder me. I haven't been fully in control of what I've built back then in years, I'm sure you have noticed that. You- oh God, you really haven't noticed the drop in crime activity, have you?"

"I had other concerns," the hero shrugged. "Why now?"

"As I said, tiredness. Nana's successor hasn't been quite shaped into the Commission's murder machine, yet, and I want to make this deal beneficial for both sides."

Torino eyed him suspiciously and crossed his arms, considering his chances.

An opportunity to make All for One step back. To not let more blood be spilled later. Though, in exchange for the only thing capable of stopping him…

"What would be our benefit from this, then?" He arched an eyebrow.

"Freedom," he said simply.

"Freedom?"

"No more heroics," the villain nodded, continuing. "No more being the Commission's lap dog. No more all of this, raising your successors thing and hiding for years. Freedom."

"What makes you think I would agree to this?"

That, for some reason, made All for One laugh. Startled, Sorahiko stared at him for a moment perhaps too long enough before he decided to ask.

"What's so funny?"

"Oh, nothing much. You've spent so much time fighting along side with Nana, helping her carry her oh so tremendous duty of the Saviour and now you have her successor, but tell me what, Sorahiko. Would you still try to play a hero, were these factors to be taken away? And even if you did, do you actually want to burden a literal child with this? What is he, seventeen? I could crush him with one hit if I wanted. So, do you really not think it'd be stupid to refuse this chance? After all, you guys have made it your duty to defeat the demon lord or whatever people call me these days with One for All and see where the problem steps in. I am not willing to fight anymore, taking apart everything my brother's little heroes tried to build so hard. I can't bring him back, either. In other words, I am only asking you to be reasonable. To help me end this. So, what will be, Sorahiko?"

Gran Torino hesitated, looking at All for One, who was now back to calmly drinking his tea, once more. Suddenly, he became hyper aware of everything around them. All the people, every life to be lost if he refused.

He was cornered. And honestly, he was so, so tired.

Torino sighed. "Fine. Let's just get this over with."

thank you for sharing! wow! i need to know CONTEXT and RESOLUTION. reading and rereading it, i'm pretty sure sorahiko's not betraying toshinori to all for one for 'the sake of survival'. then again, what could AfO be asking of sorahiko...?

[caption id: Additional note from the writer that says, "Side note number two while I'm at it. The same classmate who decided to retell a one piece arc asks when is the next chapter. Should I go for it lmao."]

The answer being, yeah, of course!! Would I ever deny myself Prime Torino content???

[altheterrible]

I am worth saving.

A year ago, I was planning on killing myself.

Back then, I was 4 months out of the psych ward, completely unmedicated, stripped of my pharmacist license, and working over 60 hours a week at three part time jobs (Halloween store, library, museum). I was exhausted and suffering constant debilitating migraines and neuropathic pain that I assumed was irrelevant because no one else gave a shit about it. I was back to self-harming because I figured if no one else cared about it, why should I? Oh, and I was bankrupt. Definitely not where I’d planned to be 3 years after getting my doctorate.

Looking at my life, it did not seem to me then that I was bringing anything of value to the world, and in fact, I concluded that my existence was just a burden on others. A burden it was unfair of me to make them continue to bear. Suicide seemed like the kindest thing I could do, for everyone involved. End my pain, and free everyone of my presence.

I’d set a date of November 1st. I picked that day because I thought it would be the least inconvenient day for me to die. I didn’t want my boss at the Halloween store to be short staffed on Halloween, so I figured I should stick around at least until after that. Furthermore, I wanted my last paycheck from each of my three jobs to be enough that my sister could afford Simply Cremation for me, and that meant sticking out the pay period. Logically, I knew that my dying would be inconvenient no matter what, but I thought it was only decent to try to mitigate some of the inconvenience I was causing.

I have always been apologizing for my inconvenience.

Anyway, I had a plan. I know my meds, and my plan was solid. I knew how, where, and when I was going to end my life. I lied to my therapist when she asked if I was suicidal. Honesty is never the best policy in that scenario. I just lied and quietly bided my time, slogged through 60 hour work weeks, and survived on 4-5 hours of sleep a night. Waiting patiently for November 1st to come so I could die.

And yet, a year later, I’m still here. I’m still alive.

It’s hard to pinpoint one big thing that changed in the last year that convinced me to keep going. I think it was actually a combination of small things.

First, in January I started working with an incredible new therapist who doesn’t text or scroll instagram during our sessions. Unlike every other therapist I've had, she has been able to guide me to finally feel empathy for myself instead of just criticism and hatred. Next, I cut my dad and his drama out of my life because he believes I exist only to be the next woman in line to care for him. I found a doctor who believes that both my mental and physical pain matter and is working to help me treat both. Finally, I started forming relationships with people who treat me like an equal, like a person instead of some kind of lesser life form that was created only for servitude and emotional labor.

I think...the change that has kept me here is that I am starting to see myself as a human being. For the first time in my life, I believe that my needs have the same weight as everyone else’s. My pain hurts as much as everyone else’s. My feelings are as important as anyone else's. My life has intrinsic value, just like everyone else’s. I do not need to apologize for being here.

And maybe, I have even left my fingerprints on the souls of others, just like they have left their fingerprints on mine.

Everything isn’t all sunshine and roses these days, but I can see a path forward. I think I am finally ready to make a firm commitment to being alive, to staying alive. I think I’m ready to take suicide off the table. Because I deserve to exist. I am a part of this world. And my life is worth saving.

My life is worth saving.

I am ready to save it.

[diamondsableye]

Self acceptance is giving up: When happiness means losing

Howdy there lol I’m totally having a normal one and in an epic cringefail moment I decided to write an essay and post it online instead of talking to friends or family or even a therapist about my feelings which I definitely don’t have as a man :)

TW for trans men also dealing with some serious self hatred.  I use some strong language and metaphors at times, so if that’s upsetting, this is not for you.  In addition, if you feel personally attacked, that is not my intention at all, this is just me dealing with some personal shiz and trying to get it out, in the hope that there are others who feel similarly since I know for certain I’m not alone in theory but idk anyone else personally going through this so in practice I feel really alone in this.

Below is an excerpt that outlines what I’ll be talking about, the full thing is rather long so the rest is below the cutaway:

“Masculinity is a competition.  In our patriarchal society, very few men actually reap the rewards it supposedly grants and promises.  Intersection with any sort of marginalized group typically precludes one from ascending to the top, beating the competition.  Every man who has ever suffered from any insecurity knows this to be true, even if they haven’t thought of the larger picture yet. [...]   It’s a competition.  We’re aiming for the top.  Why bother to point out that we’re all losing together, if not for the point of mockery? ”

Self acceptance is giving up: When happiness means losing

I am a trans man.  And I hate myself.  I hate myself because I am not cis, and I have memorized an entire laundry list of data points that make me different and therefore inferior to cis men.  You would think this is counter intuitive, and you would be right.  It is 100% self emotional sabotage.  And yet.  Whenever I hear someone championing my existence, trying to build me up or fight some oppressive force with rhetoric and academic wit, my very first instinctual gut reaction is to instantaneously shove it all down, to deny it or poke holes in the logic, while at the same time believing that even if I am not a man in society, that I am a man inside my head or soul or wherever else, as if the spirit of manliness somehow resides within the cosmic ether or something of the like.  I am well aware that the level of cognitive dissonance I hold rivals that of a christian who believes in an all loving god who can do no evil and also simultaneously created sickness, famine, and war.  My knowledge of my own illogical ruminations does not stop me from continuing this practice.  But why?  Why do I obsess over my own supposed failings at every possible step?  Why do I beat myself over the head with YWNBAM (You WIll Never Be A Man) mantras with an absolutely driven intent to disprove anything that states that it’s okay to be what I am?  Because self acceptance means that I have given up.

Masculinity is a competition.  In our patriarchal society, very few men actually reap the rewards it supposedly grants and promises.  Intersection with any sort of marginalized group typically precludes one from ascending to the top, beating the competition.  Every man who has ever suffered from any insecurity knows this to be true, even if they haven’t thought of the larger picture yet.  We know the guy we all dream of being, the one who seemingly has everything.  Big muscles, big body, big penis, big salary, big family, big home, big everything, big big big. Larger than life it seems.  (also, he tends to be white, neurotypical, not physically handicapped in any way, and a real “ladies man”, so presumably straight as well.)   It is also worth noting that within this traditional framework, I am 100% excluded from even the lowest rung.  In the modern day, when the framework still exists but just more “woke” by allowing my participation, I’m still at the bottom due to my natural shortcomings.  Much more so than my cis counterparts.  At the very least, in the traditional frame, a runner with stunted legs wasn’t made to compete with others of able bodies.  Now, I am allowed, or rather, forced to compete with my stunted legs, and a fraction of the training time most others experienced.  Is it any wonder why I truly feel so deeply inadequate?  Why on earth would I feel it possible to believe that there is nothing wrong with my body the way it is, when my run times are so disparaged, and my peer’s only solace is that “there are plenty of other people out there with other conditions making it difficult to run”.  Yes, I am aware of this, and their run times are just as poor.  It’s a competition.  We’re aiming for the top.  Why bother to point out that we’re all losing together, if not for the point of mockery?

I am vivisecting my spiritual heart on a sterilized table just to be able to get the words out.

Sure, I am not denying the fact that I would be a much happier person if I was taller, more attractive, more athletic, had a bigger member, etc.  I would be much much happier with myself if all of those things were true.  But to say I would be satisfied would be very foolhardy.  Indeed, in the competition, it is never enough to just be at the top of the pyramid, you have to be at the very tip, the pinnacle of manliness for whom all else look up to and admire.  In this way, you can never be tall enough, rich enough, attractive enough, fit enough, etc.  There will always be more of the mountain to climb, more of the pyramid to envy and scale.  You are always aiming for a faster time, even when it isn’t physically possible anymore.  But since you’ve already come this far, might as well go for broke.  You tear yourself apart, ripping all that makes you sound and happy to pieces in an effort to gain even an inch up the slope, recklessly chasing the dragon with suicidal abandon.  Because.  To give up on everything you worked on so far, is to admit you were never good enough or deserving enough to sit at the top.  You’re just a weak little quitter who deserves to be at the very bottom for such heresy.  To give up on the rat race, to try and slow down and find your own happiness is heresy.  It is the blaspheming stemming from the mouths of the weakest ones of all, the ones who try to cope with their failure to ascend by telling themselves they’re “perfect as is”, when really they’re just too cowardly to admit that they couldn’t handle the grind.

For someone like myself, there’s only two paths, and none of them are good.  Self acceptance is difficult.  It requires diligence and a comfort for constantly facing troubled mindsets and mental frameworks, which requires a herculean effort at times, but also because it goes against the framework laid out.  You cannot accept yourself if it means losing, but you cannot think of it as anything but without acceptance.  There is no easy out.  It requires a complete shift in perspective that has been built up for years, and said shift has already been outlined as the actions of the cowardly who cannot compete and who settle for coping with their inadequacy instead.  It also means that, if the whole pyramid thing is a lie, you have to wake up and cope with the fact that you spent so much time chasing a pipe dream.  No one likes admitting that all their time was wasted by fruitless endeavors, and such is a stronger psychological force than others like to give credit for.  It also means losing out on any potential benefits you may have received during your time as a runner, and while for me I have none, for others who have accrued some, this alone may prevent deeper introspection.

On the other hand, staying on track of the chase is certainly worse, but it’s the devil you know.  It is a comfort.  It means you don’t have to do the difficult work of accepting your shortcomings, admitting you lost the race.  As long as you’re running, you may be a loser now, but if you just keep going hard enough, eventually you’ll see rewards for your efforts. Just keep going, you’ll get them eventually, I’m sure.  Aside from inner peace, there is nothing promised from self acceptance.  You get nothing from quitting, in fact, you may actually lose things.  But if you keep running, there’s all sorts of mystical patriarchal promises in store, like a family and kids and a yard with a picket fence, all those nice things.  As long as you keep running, make sure no matter what you keep running.  If society looked on you favorably for running the race, the moment you stop to smell the roses is the moment they turn on you.  As long as other people feel they have to keep running, we all believe we need to suffer this hell together, and if not, you’re weak and scourge that needs to be ridiculed either until you start running again or you conveniently disappear.  There is no room on the sidelines for stragglers.  There’s the carrot, and the stick, and both of them are huge.

I look at other types of trans men (and sometimes cis men) often with disgust due to this frame of thinking, but I will not deny that there is a festering envy to them as well.  I routinely struggle to conceive of myself as a man, but these guys?  Who wear makeup and skirts and don’t even bother with the competition at all?  It’s disgusting!  They’re so arrogant that they think of themselves as men, so full of themselves, and so so so deeply confident.  Confident, without even once bothering to measure how fast they run in the rat race.  Confident, from internal validation, and from other sources outside of their dash times or the height of the pyramid they’ve scaled.  Their happiness is disgusting, because it is a reminder.  They’re supposed to be losers, they’re supposed to hate themselves and want to climb like everyone else, and yet they’re not.  Even though I have always seen wanting to escape as coping with the fact that I’m just not good enough to be a man, they’re out there, living authentically, without a trace of hidden languishing or self doubt.  

They see me, constantly sore, sweaty and out of breath.  They ask me if I enjoy running.  I say I do, and it’s not a lie.  They ask if I like being forced to compete.  I don’t.  They say, if I hate competing so much, why not run just for the hell of it?  I try to explain that I’m not a quitter and that running to get the best time in the race is how it is in the world, how you get respect and success, and that no one is taken seriously if their times are low, even if they just naturally don’t have the capacity to run fast.  They ask if happiness and satisfaction lay within this definition of success.  I say yes, which is a lie.  I actually know that no matter what, I’ll never get fast enough.  I’ll always be on the bottom rung no matter what, and yet, I wouldn’t be happy even if I got higher and higher.  Even if I were to get faster and faster in the race, getting so fast I truly was the fastest of them all, what exactly lies at the top?  Sure, status, privilege, all those other nice things, but happiness?  Personal satisfaction?  

The loneliest thing in the world is to become a god.  When you become untouchable, there is nothing left you can touch.  Even with no more obstacles you keep running, and you keep running, and you keep running until you die.  After climbing your Everest, there is no beautiful view to be seen.  Only darkness from above, and a pile of dead bodies below you.  There is no descending down the mountain after.

It is adapt or die.  You have to be willing to survive, which is hard if you’re suicidal.  I am deeply aware of the fact that what I’m doing currently, attempting to compete or even thinking in such a framework is deeply hurtful and detrimental to my wellbeing.  And yet, despite knowing that self acceptance is the only way out, the only path to true lasting happiness and satisfaction, I just can’t do it.  I can’t accept that I’ll never be as big or as strong as the majority of my cis counterparts.  I can’t accept that I’ll never have a real penis, in the same way cis men have theirs.  I can’t accept that I’ll never be - forget being at the top of the pyramid - even close to the middle.  I keep holding out hope that maybe someday my stunted legs will grow finally and I’ll be able to compete for real, or even, just run for the hell of it without lagging behind the other joggers, even when it isn’t a race at all.  Within my current framework, it means that accepting what cannot be changed means accepting I’ll never be as real as a man compared to other guys.  It does not matter that perhaps there are so many others dealing with the same in born problems as me, because within this framework *they are not real men either*, and why would I want to be like them if I want to be a *real man*?  I don’t want self acceptance if it means giving up on the ridiculous dream of being a *real man*.

For those of you who have achieved it, you possess a treasure I am envious of, and one I simultaneously will not pursue.  You have earned every bit of it and more.  

[a-tale-of-legends]

Oh right. Today is just Jude's day huh?

I'n currently rethinking his backstory bc I realized that it's just R.B's and I think it fits R.B's better. I also wanted them to be....more of a jerk. Honestly writing jerk characters are not my strong suit, but I really do want the end result of Jude becoming and wanting to become a better person to be more impacted.

So I did some writing: nothing big, just thoughts.

"Eat or be eaten" : kinda a theme for Jude's mindset at first? Something about their life pre Kalos lead to this mindset, and in that they ended up believing that you must be strong, or else others will trample over you.

I've posted about this before, but I've had this idea of actually making Jude's bio dad a character. A merc who is cold and unmerciful and did not exactly plan to have a child. Originally this guy just dropped Jude off at the nearest orphanage before going off how he was before. But maybe he took Jude with him? Maybe Jude saw the worst of humanity, because of him. Maybe he taught her the " kill or he killed" mentality. I'm not sure, not right now, but I'm pinning it as I continue to revamp this backstory.

In a....less dangerous idea: Maybe Jude was a bully. Or rather, just someone no one really liked. Again, "eat or be eaten" and to Jude that meant making sure people knew they meant business. They wanted people to be intimidated by him, and wasn't afraid of being blunt and harsh.

Adding to the above: Jude never realized they had their aura at this time. They were able to slightly "read" people, but he always chalked it up to him being really good at getting people's intentions. At least. He thought so. The aura sensing was very passive and very weak, so they couldn't really rely on it at that time, even if she wanted to. That being said...

I still want a big plot point for Jude is that they are actively supressing their aura powers. With the previous set up, I think Jude, in their youth, was actually able to make a friend, only for this friend to humiliate them in front of a lot of people. This would already be embarrassing and hurtful - Jude was being vulnerable with someone for once, and it turns out that this person never fully cared - but it was this betrayal that led to their aura awakening. And with that....meant they were able to read and feel the aura's of everyone who was around them. She felt their hatred, their joy at their demise- it was overwhelming. It was painful.

If we add the bad dad idea with this one, I can see Jude trying to look for their dad for comfort, only for said dad to go " no lmao". To make matters worse, he knocked him out and the next thing Jude knew, she was newly orphaned. All of this combined would have less to Jude never wanting to read aura's ever again, and thus trying to represent their abilities as much as possible.

" Wow R, these are some detailed ideas-" yeah. They're ideas. I still am not sure how I would want Jude's backstory to be. The ideas I just displayed can easily become convoluted.

All of that being said: by the main story, Jude is very closed off. They appear dominant, harsh and kinda apathetic, with their only real goal is to feel powerful. The only one that seem to be softer with is Grace, and even then, bc of past experiences, Jude is still keeping their distance. They don't want people to know them, to befriend them, bc they honestly don't want to get hurt. They honestly don't trust the others, especially Shauna and Dante. Shauna, bc there's no way someone like her can be that nice, and Dante, bc Jude has seen people like him. A thinly valed ego that Jude knows is there. It's why the two but heads: Jude thinks Dante is pathetic for what he sees as faking his emotions, and Dante dislikes how Jude is honestly a slight reflection of him - his own ego, the way he views strength and his worth. It's like looking into a dark reflection, a dark reflection that's always winning, and he hates it.

Jude would most likely see his pokemon as co-workers at first. They both have a goal, and will help each other execute it. She will respect them, they will respect her. Of course....they get attached. And of course.....death will happen. Nuzlocke babeeeeey

And that's it. I have a lot of thoughts and I'm simply just trying to make things cohesive for Jude and their character.

[polar-jake778]

Resentment.

Within each and every one of us lives a parasite many dismiss as an emotion of irrational fear, truth, and intelligence. Resentment. But why do we remark such externally ugly sensation, with so much trust? Almost as if we respect it, more than we do ourselves. Well, I believe we hold such high regard for it, because we think it sees us for what we truly are. All those emotionally drawn assumptions about the self reflected on hatred, anger, and seen as a truth proposed by resentment.

I am no hero, no family person. Deep down, I am an outcast, as long as I see that for what it is. I can live each day waging war against such approach to ample living. That face, those stretch marks, the lack of discipline. I see an enemy. And I hate them. Resentment fuels such thoughts. Such seething hatred, frothing at the mouth as any idea of negative self worth crops up. We are a danger to ourselves, just as much as we are to others.

Many have said that it is easier to hurt another, than it is to hurt oneself. But I do not believe this. Through hurting another, one hurts themselves. Just like help. Through helping another, one helps themselves.

We are all mortals who bear the burden of resentment. More so, like a devil sat upon our shoulder whispering the words we think we think we deserve. Why we are so dumb. So rude. So evil. So worthless, in a world full of worth !

Scorn by regret, corrupted by resentment. Such putrid odour ferments. It is okay to feel down. It is okay to think your self inferior from time to time. No head should remain above the clouds for too long. But neither should they be exposed to the belly of brutality for too long.

Be kind to yourself. Remind yourself, that you bear a story so drastically different to the rest. Sure, perhaps I, and the many others, know not of such path. But knowing yourself, is enough. For the sake of the calm sea, respect what you have endured with glee. You continue to breathe. You continue to brave the days to come, even when they seem so hopeless and empty.

Thank you for reading this oddly specific tangent. I hope you, as much as I, find this helpful.

To show my appreciation, POLAR BEARS. !

I love them so much, man…

[depressednoises]

I cant stop thinking

About something

Feel free to ignore, not serious, just sorting my thoughts.

And i need to lwt it out

It just doesnt make sense to me

So im 18, right? Alnost 19?

Im young

I dont feel that age

Sometimes i feel like im in my twenties -- 22-24

Sometimes 23

Sometimes i feel like im a prwteen again

Back in the worst yeara of my life, just surrpunded by new people

From the time i was 11 to thw tine i was 13 my life was hell

Or maybe it ended at 12

I dont

I dont know

I guess i should give an offical vers. My version of my timeline. Some events will be omittwd for lrivqcy reasons and for the fact its really sad. 2ell, not omnitted, thetll be lavelled, just not expandes on

Official:

Overarching - life from 1 year to now. We'll call this sad era which may continuw for a long time. Or itll stop soon. Hard to predjct

0-1 - birth the one year. Typical family stuff

1-4 - nothing special, apparently had a few playdates but no one stuck with me. The beginning of sad days

5 years - first traumatic event. I remember it clearlt but iys also foggy. Hars to explain. Has hurt me for a while but im over it. As much i can be, anyway made a friend though. Or maybe i already knew hwr. Tried white popcorn for the first time by a black man who could have been of druggie of some kind. He never shows up again, but i remember he was very kind. I dont know wherw he went.

5-9. Nothing special here. Mostly playdates. No new traumas other than what startwd when j was 1. Mostly was isolated from everyone else excwpt someone ill call N. N being my childhood best friend. Had yet to speak up aboht anything.

10-11 - i got a phone ! Internwt accszs! So thats cool. Beginning of the worst yearsTM, also began depression arc. Has yet to be resolved. Self worth issues beginning to develop. Lots of empathy from friends that hurt my psyche and made me se erely suicidal

12(?) - pajn stopped. The second lain anyway. Still had very bad self worth ossues and continued depression and anxiety. 3Ds though so thats cool. Still suicidal and had planned an attempt

13 - moving year. Moved where i am now. Sevwre psychosis and severe depression. Almost admitted to mental hospital. Began dissociating heavily and threatening to hurt pwople. Threatwning of bldily harm to social workers. Unknown cause.

15 - still depressed. 2 - 3 atrempts by this point. No longer self harms. Less dissociation and violent tendancies. Auditory hallucinatjons prevalent

15- 18 - now! Moatly fine for the most part with occassional depression episodes, bht trying my best. Up to 5 serioue attempts, only one alnost succeeefing but stopped myself. No ausitory halkucinations. Occassional violent outbursts, usually via yelling and the like. Lots of pent up hatred

Now everything from above but 11-12 felt like, idk, longer? 11-13. I fwlt like it ended later than it did.

13 doesnt feel like moving year

10-13 - never felt those ages. I always fwlt older. I always felt like i was 15 or 16. Dunno why.

[mycalamity]

Open-letter to my abusive mother.

Monster Dearest,

I hope someday you will develop the ability to be self-aware, honest and to stop being abusive. Unfortunately, I fear that day will never come, and that you are absolutely right; you will never be capable of loving me in the way I need. To be frank I don’t believe that you love me at all. You’ve admitted in the past that the only reason you loved me at all was out of obligation. So, loving me wasn’t your choice. I released you from that obligation when I walked away. It’s hard for me to accept the reality but we’re both free now and that’s what matters.

I know that you had a traumatic childhood, and I don’t understand why you would want that for your own children. I also understand that rather than breaking the cycle of trauma you chose to perpetuate it. Instead of becoming a woman of change you became the abuser. I am not going to perpetuate that cycle nor will I allow you to continue to involve me and my family in your generational revenge.

Which brings me to the point that I am not responsible for your choices. I am not responsible for the consequences that you’re suffering. Additionally, it isn’t my responsibility to help you become a better person. You asking me to help you get better at this point is inappropriate. Getting better is your responsibility. If I were ever to help you, it would be because you have shown the desire to help yourself and the self-awareness required to be introspective and thoughtful. None of which you have shown in a way that is not in some way manipulative.

Additionally, I do not need you to validate that the things that happened to me were traumatic. I do not need you to validate that it was abuse. I have to live with the consequences of your actions and the actions of others. I have to live with the aftermath of a traumatic childhood.

Throughout my childhood I needed you to be my champion. Instead you chose to focus on yourself and what your pursuit of happiness. A child that went through the things that I did should have been in intensive therapy. My recovery should have been your highest priority.

Instead you shoved me in a corner and pretended the problems I had as a result of my trauma didn’t exist. You expected me to be good, quiet and to make your life easier. It was an act of selfishness that had terrible consequences for me. The help I needed never came and all I ever got from you was hatred, ridicule, and the burden of your abuse. I deserved so much better. (The one session of therapy I received at 17 was too little too late).

As a teenager I acted out as a result of having been neglected and forgotten. I know now that it was a cry for help. Unfortunately, I believed you that I wasn’t any good, and instead of seeing I needed help and actually helping me you whined about how bad I made your life. Which begs the question if you would have done your job as a parent would I have ever acted out in the first place: the answer is no.

I remember all the times that the both of you told me that I couldn’t have horses because I wasn’t deserving. I remember being told that you two could have afforded horses, but you again I wasn’t deserving. Your actions compounded my inability to believe in myself and my inability to heal.

Your demented mind-games did so much damage. You destroyed my self-esteem, my sense of self-worth, and any respect I had for myself.

(This isn’t about not getting what I wanted this is about you using something I was passionate about to play a demented game of keep away).

I remember you recruiting my sister to take me out and make me go party to get it out of my system. (My sister told me that is what you had told her to do. She hated taking me and wanted to be sure I knew that was the only reason I was there). I never wanted to party. The few times I had the courage to say no she would not take no for an answer. I still don’t understand why you did that, why you can’t be accountable for doing it and why you can’t grasp how incredibly abusive it was to do that to me.

I was so engaging and I starved for your attention. If you had just taken the time to engage me back, spend time with me and encourage me I would have listened to you wholeheartedly. I think deep down you know and I fortunately understand now that I was a good kid.

I remember when I was a little girl. I told you about the sexual abuse that I had been enduring. Your response was to stonewall me: you didn’t even respond to what I had told you, you just got up and walked away. It was bewildering. I thought I had done something wrong, and after your reaction I kept quiet.

Until of course I turned 18 and I tried to speak out again. Instead of being the person that I needed you to be you pretended that you had never known even though I had told you before. Instead of being supportive, you recruited my own sister’s to help you torment me into silence. It was an act of hatred and I don’t know if I will ever be able to forgive you for it. As a mother I could not imagine doing that to my own children and I don’t understand how you were able to do it yours.

You’ve made me feel unwanted for many years, and now that I am gone you won’t leave me alone. As a teenager I was always acutely aware of how much you hated me. That ‘I hate you’ look that you get on your face still makes my skin crawl. (Even when I see it on someone else’s face). The sad thing is you take zero accountability for how your behavior has affected my life, and the apologies that you give are thick with contempt.

As further evidence of your hatred I will reference the effort you put into making me believe that my only chance outside of your home was to be married. I believed you and I married the man that would go on to abuse me violently and horribly for years. When I tried to escape the first time your words to me were that I needed to lay in the bed that I had made. Even though it wasn’t the bed that I had made it was the bed that you had made for me.

If you had done right by me you would have empowered me as a young woman and would have taught me to have standards and respect for myself. Instead you stripped them away in a cruel and selfish manner.

It was your responsibility as my parent to prepare me for adulthood. It was your responsibility to help me find a way to go to college even if you couldn’t afford it. There were options and it makes my blood boil to know that you didn’t put any effort into finding those options. Again as a parent I can’t even imagine doing that to my children. I will move mountains to make sure my children succeed. You were selfish. I understand now all you were really doing was making me someone else’s problem. So, I don’t understand why you won’t leave me alone the ‘problem’ is gone and you got what you needed.

I used to miss you when I first stopped talking to you, but I understand now that the person I was grieving never existed. The person I missed was the mother that you were never capable of being. Me walking away from you is a consequence of your abusive behavior. You made your bed and I think you know what to do with it.

In the last chapter of your life that I was around to witness you bastardized religion to shield you from the consequences of your behavior. You’ve used it to justify things that no mother should ever do to their children. I hope someday you find a way to be a good Christian because as it stands you are not.

I hope that someday you will take accountability for your choices and the affect your choices have had on the people around you. I hope you recover from being an abuser, and I hope that you do better by the people that continue to stand by you. Those people deserve better, and I think deep down you know I’m right.

[humansun]

mild spicy chicken sando

Written June 6th, 2023 at 10:41AM

Today feels brighter and my energy levels are better. Although I only had roughly 5 hours of sleep, I feel as though I’m operating better than if I had 10. 

I’m learning that each day will look different. On certain days, I may feel productive and happy like I do today, but some days I might want to spend all my time playing Stardew Valley.

Mel mentioned yesterday that I am rushing it, and I do feel that to a certain extent. I feel like I am hoping to have a result as soon as possible, instead of taking the time to explore and understand what it is I am pursuing and how I plan on pursuing it.

That’s why we have friends! Because they support us. My relationship with my family looks different now. I am close to my parents, but with my grandma, it’s something I’m still working through. Fortunately, Fuzzy gave me a couple reminders and tips that have come to be very helpful for me. 

Learning to not react to other people’s comments or hatred is not the difficult part. For me, I find that the mentality shift in doing this act is much more challenging. It’s almost natural for me to start responding to the person in my head, intensely thinking why I hate them or why their existence is unneccessary.

Trying to find calmness in those moments and detach myself from the other person’s behavior has not been easy, but I believe I am gradually mastering this skill. Especially after my conversation with Mel, Fuzzy, Mai, and myself, I have the tools to move forward with a higher level of awareness and consciousness of my automatic thoughts.

This is the growth that I am proud of. I am happy to have moments of humbling to moments of small wins and victories that remind me that I am capable of achieving even the most seemingly difficult tasks.

Posing the question to Mel about my intelligence and discussing it further with Fuzzy has been fulfilling as well. It’s almost as though I’ve been set free from chains I’ve held around myself. I am starting to believe that I am intelligent and highly capable of achievement. To shed away the need to please others by prioritizing my self-worth has been enlightening and I look forward to continuing this journey, even if certain days don’t look perfect.

I am eternally grateful for my parents, sister, relatives, friends, and partner for their endless support of my emotions and existence. I am certain I would not be here at this moment without them.

Random Things:

Why is Potato Corner so good? I want a Howlin’ Ray’s chicken sando.

Water is life.

Writing is cathartic when it’s free association. When it’s mandated, it sucks. When it means thining creatively, it also sucks.

Practicing creativity feels equally as difficult as reading music notes in a band or orchestra. Like how do we make sense of these shapes and sizes around these thin lines?

I know I am capable if I let myself take this risk and begin a new journey. If I didn’t trust myself, I wouldn’t have done it. I would have stayed in corporate. But it’s incredible to watch the struggle happen, even if its difficult. I’m going to be okay, and if I’m not - I’ll still be okay.

[strwbrymlkshake]

you lied to me, and ruined everything, and ruined how I approach almost any romantic feeling at all. and all you can describe it as is having fucking beef with me. and you don't even recognize your own actions. you don't even fucking remember them. you aren't phased by it at all. I agonized, had meltdowns over it. losing me, ruining me was just a regular fucking day for you.

[kingbabydollbilly]

Angel In The Devil’s Nest

A/N:  This is a bit of a heavy one, ya’ll.  Read through the warnings and view at your own discretion.

Word Count: 2.6k

WARNINGS:  Neil Hargrove, blood, violence, abuse, swearing, death

Another hopeless night was happening at the Hargrove residence.  Neil came home stumbling in the door drunk off his ass, a bottle still in hand.  He was so gone that a dribble of booze was trickling down his chin as he walked inside.  Billy’s blood ran cold when he heard the loud slamming of the front door, not expecting him to be back for hours.  Neil wasn’t supposed to be home until eleven at night, yet he returned just shy of six in the afternoon.  Not only was Billy afraid of what was to come from his father’s drunken hands, he was terrified because the girlfriend his dad showed so much hatred for and claimed to be nothing but a worthless whore was sitting in his bedroom.  He normally refused to bring her around his house, afraid of what his father was capable of doing, but he was so sure today that he wasn’t going to be there.  Even so, Neil was home, she was there, and Billy had to find a way to conceal her until he could get her out of the house safely.  He was positioned in the kitchen when Neil walked in looking for a snack to grab for his hungry girlfriend.  What was even scarier for him was that she was completely unaware of Neil’s presence in the house and could walk out of his bedroom in ignorance at any given point.  Billy knew he had to either get her out before his dad figures it out, or get him out somehow before she realizes.

“The fuck are you looking at?”  Neil scolded, his words slurring to become almost unrecognizable.

“Finding somethin’ to eat.  Why are you here?”  Billy said flatly.

“Why am I here?  What kind of st-stupid question is that?  This is my fuckin’ house, I’ll come and go as I please.”

“I just….”  Billy ran a hand through his golden curls.  “I just meant I thought you were going to be out until way later.”

“Hm.  Bar was a shit hole.  Better off getting wasted on my couch.”  

Neil shook one of his arms out of his jacket, the other still holding the bottle of beer.  He walked over to a side table next to the living room couch, steps wobbly and unstable.  The glass bottle then left his hand and was placed on the table, the condensation quickly coating the wood underneath it.

“You know, I could ask you the same question, Billy.”  Neil grumbled, plopping himself roughly down onto the couch, then shaking his other arm out of his jacket.

“Ask me what?”

“For fucks sake, you are stupider than I thought, kid.”

Billy looked down at the floor, standing in silence.

“Seriously, I gotta fuckin’ spell it out for you?”  Neil continued berating his son, sighing heavily when he didn’t respond.  “You asked me why I was here.  So, let me ask you….why. The fuck.  Are you here?  It’s a Saturday night, don’t you have some skank to get up inside?”

Billy’s face visibly cringed.  He regretted everything about the reputation he had built for himself before he met his current girlfriend.  Every weekend, hell, sometimes every other day, he would find one of the girls who threw themselves at him like they were nothing more than meat and……become acquainted with them.  When he was done, he would leave and never speak to them again.  During that time, the females he associated with were disposable.  He never cared about any of them even slightly.  All that was before he met her.  Never in a million years did he ever think he would meet someone he viewed as worth his time.  There was something about watching her cuss out the asshole jock Jason Carver in the middle of the school cafeteria in front of everyone and not giving a single shit about who was watching that intrigued him.  The fire lacing her voice and the way she looked so intimidating yet so soft at the same had him hooked from the second he witnessed the whole thing.  Ever since he managed to get her to give him the time of day, and eventually did the impossible and asked her to be his official girlfriend, he hasn’t given sleeping with another woman a second thought.  There’s not a damn thing he would do to betray her and there’s definitely nothing he wouldn’t do for her.

“I don’t do that anymore, dad.”  Billy answered, still looking down at the floor.

“Ohhhhhh yeahhhh, that’s right.”  Neil grabbed the arm of the couch and helped himself up into a standing position.  “I almost forgot.  You’ve got that other whore now.  Stuck with her, huh?”

“Don’t say that.”  Billy’s voice was barely above a whisper.

“What did you say?  Care to repeat that?”  Neil stepped closer to his son.

“Don’t….don’t call her that.”

Neil stared at Billy, unresponsive to his son defending his significant other.

“What?”  Billy broke the silence.

“You’re feeling awfully ballsy today, William.”

Billy scrunched his nose at the name; it was something only his father called him, knowing how much he hated it.  Neil would do anything to scrape away at any ounce of peace he had.  Anything to get under his skin and get a reaction out of him.  It was like he was always looking for an excuse to hurt him.

“What, nothing to say now?”  His father brought his face mere inches away from his and Billy instinctively backed up a step.  “I knew you were nothin’ but a pussy.  Get the fuck out.”  Neil scoffed.

Billy stood there, stunned, too afraid to move.  Get out?  Go where?  He wasn’t about to leave his still unsuspecting girlfriend alone in his house with his dad.  Over his dead body.

“No.”  His voice was weak.

“Excuse me?  Did you just tell me no?  I said get. The fuck.  OUT!!”

Billy’s head snapped to the side, his cheek stinging from Neil’s hand harshly coming down on it.  There would surely be a bruise there in the morning.  Great, yet another mark he would have to cover up and hide by picking a fight with some kid at school.  Who would suspect that his own dad beats him up if half of the school sees somebody getting a punch in?  He thought for a moment about what poor soul he would choose for such a deed before something grabbed his attention.  A familiar creaking of his bedroom door crept up into his ears.  

“Fuck.”  Billy closed his eyes, whispering under his breath.

“What was that, boy?  Somethin’ the matter?”

“Hey, Billy are you still-”  Billy’s girlfriend stopped dead in her tracks.  “Oh, um….hello Mr. Hargrove…..I didn’t know you were here.”  She swallowed thickly.

Neil let out a concerning laugh.

“Oh, I get it now.  You didn’t want to leave because you were hiding your whore of the week in your room.”

With her presence now being the main focus of the situation, Billy’s tolerance was getting lower, his anger growing higher.  One wrong move from his father and he would be ready to burst.  He no longer cared or worried about forming more bruises on his body or the potential short streams of blood that might roll down his face that night.  His entire demeanor shifted to that of an attack dog, ready to defend the one he loved.

“So, I’ll say it again, kid.  Get.  The.  Fuck.  OUT!!”

“Fucking make me.”  Billy taunted.

With those words, Neil grabbed the collar of Billy’s shirt and started to drag him towards the front door.  His girlfriend stood frozen in shock, her hands flying up to cover her mouth.  Instead of immediately opening it to shove him out, Neil roughly shoved his son’s body into the hard door.

“You will do what the hell I say!”  Neil screamed inches away from Billy’s face, small strings of spit flying into the air.

“You can’t make me fucking leave!”  Billy shouted back.

Billy glanced over Neil’s shoulder at his girlfriend, who now had tears streaming down her face.  She was still being as quiet as a mouse.  He knew she was absolutely petrified and this only added more fuel to the fire.  In a burst of confidence, Billy grabbed his father’s collar, just as he had done to him, and flipped him around so he was now the one pushed against the door.  Neil couldn’t believe his eyes.  Never has his son really fought back against his abuse.  He didn’t know what to do, and this enraged him further.  His fists went flying at Billy.  Several were able to connect with his face and chest, knocking him to the floor.

“Stop!  Mr. Hargrove, please, stop!!”  Billy’s girlfriend cried out, rushing forward to his fallen form.

“Baby, go back in my bedroom and lock the do-”

Before Billy could finish his sentence, terror replaced the air in his lungs.  The disturbing fearful scream coming from his girlfriend was all he could hear.  In a terrifyingly fast ten seconds, Neil was able to grip her arms and rip her away from Billy, throwing her into the glass coffee table in front of the couch like she was a rag doll.  The glass surface completely shattered, both small and large pieces embedding themselves in her skin.

For the first time in his life, Billy was truly stunned in a fight.  He felt as if his entire world just went crashing down.  The room that just seconds before was filled with growling yells and blood curdling screams was so silent you could hear a pin drop onto the carpet.  Somehow, Neil himself even seemed surprised.  

“What….what did you do?”  Billy blinked hard several times, trying to get the burning sweat to disappear from his eyes.  “Why…..why the FUCK WOULD YOU DO THAT?!?”

Neil didn’t know what hit him.  Billy flew up from his position on the floor and lunged at his dad, shoulder first.  He channeled a new found strength and lifted him into the air by his waist, slamming him back down onto the ground.  He was out cold.  

Now that the threat was out of the picture for the time being, Billy rushed over to his girlfriend, who was lying unconscious in a pile of glass.  Not only was she on top of it, glass also surrounded her and was mixed into the strands of hair that came loose from her ponytail during the attack.  All he saw was the shine and shimmer of shards….and blood.  A large portion of the broken glass was coated in crimson.  

“Baby?  Baby, come on.  Wake up!”  Billy shook her shoulders gently.  “God, you’re fucking….blo-blood….”  He shook her again, rougher this time.  “Baby, come on!  Wake the fuck up!”

The silence was piercing.

Billy hurried over to the phone hanging on a wall in his kitchen, dialing the number of the only person he thought could help.

“Yeah?”  A gruff voice answered.

“Hopper!  Hop!!  FUCK!  I need-she needs-FUCK!!!”  Billy couldn’t find the words.

“Woah, woah, woah.  What’s going on, kid?”  Hopper’s voice was stern.

“Please!  I’m at-I’m at my house….my dad hurt her, Hop!  He fucking hurt her!!”  

“I’m coming, stay put.”

Billy didn’t bother hanging up the phone, he dropped it and let it swing into the wall and dangle in place.  He ran back over to his girlfriend, limping past the intense pain from Neil’s hits that was beginning to make itself known.

“Baby, please, why aren’t you waking up?!?”  

Billy could barely see with the amount of tears fogging up his eyes and straining his vision.  What he could see, though, was the most likely answer to his question.

Her head.

He carefully put his hand underneath her skull and felt the back of it.  His palm almost instantly became filled with blood as he felt a small dent that most definitely should not have been there.

“GOD, NO!!”  His voice was broken into heavy sobs.  “No, no, no, no, no, no.”  

In an act of desperation, Billy lifted his girlfriend’s limp form and cradled her body into his chest, ignoring the shards of glass that were starting to penetrate his legs.

“You’re okay.  You’re okay.  You’re okay.  You….you have to be okay!”  He was rocking her back and forth now.  “Don’t you fucking leave me!  Don’t you fucking do it!”

Billy almost didn’t hear the sound of sirens and his front door being kicked open over his loud sobbing.  It was almost inaudible and he was startled when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

“Hey, kid.  Come on, let her go.  We gotta get her to a hospital.”  Hopper spoke as softly as he could to the destroyed boy.

He said nothing, only loosened his grip on her, allowing Hopper to swiftly grab her and run her out the door over to the ambulance waiting outside.  Billy felt as if his feet were heavy boulders.  His ears rang, his skin was numb.  How the fuck was this happening?  He thought he heard Hopper calling out for him but he wasn’t sure.  It sounded unusually faded and distorted.  He then wasn’t certain if the police chief running towards him was real or an illusion.  A hallucination, even.  Hopper’s voice got farther and farther away as he moved closer.

And then there was black.

_____________________________________________________

The black began to dissipate and fill with little spots of light, ever so slowly growing into large pools.  By the time the darkness was finally gone, fluorescent lights invaded Billy’s sensitive eyes.

“What….what….the hell.”  Billy tried to speak but his voice was hoarse.

“Hey, kid.”  

Hopper?

“What….you…here….?”

“I’m here to make sure you ended up alright.”  Hopper admitted.

Billy’s eyes were painfully squinting, the light feeling overwhelming.  He lightly blinked, widening his eyelids a little bit each time, trying to force himself to adjust to the violating white lights.

“Where’s….where’s….”  Billy groaned as he did his best to prop himself up straighter, resting his bruised back against the hospital bed.  “Where is she?”

The longer silence filled the air, the more Billy was fearing the worst.

“Hop.  Where……is she?”  The boy’s strained voice sounded like gravel scraping his throat.

The sigh that Hopper made was a type that Billy had never heard come from him before.

“Billy….I’m so sorry.  They did all they could.  It….it was too much….for her.”

Cold.  All he felt was cold.  Any warmth he had within himself was stolen.  A fate worse than death, in his mind.  Nothing could compare to the numbness he felt.  It…..it couldn’t be real.  A million thoughts shot through his head.  Was the only person he ever came to love….gone?  The ONLY fucking girl to EVER show actual true love and care for him?  The one whose touch was silk, whose….whose laugh was the calming sound of a light rain, whose gaze was sparkling glitter, whose smell was vanilla and lemonade on a hot summer day…..gone.

Billy’s world really did end that day.  His heart and soul was ripped away from him without a second thought.  Like….like she was trash.  Dirty trash thrown into a heap of rubble.  She suffered an end like that while his father escaped and was on the run.  He could have been literally anywhere doing anything and she was going to be in the ground.  He could be somewhere enjoying the puff of a cigarette, wasting his breath on the cancer inducing chemicals, while she had none to breathe at all.  

Her funeral was typical, as far as funerals go.  Her parents sobbed heartbreaking cries, her friends shed all the tears in their bodies, and then there was the token group of people who claimed to be close with her or friends at all with her but in reality probably didn’t even know her last name.  He sat a row away from her parents, too ashamed to face them.  In that moment, he truly felt lost.  Weak.  And upon seeing her lifeless face in the open casket, he vowed to her that he would find Neil; and take his revenge.

[genshinology]

LOVE & HATRED. xiao

pairing; xiao x reader

genre; a tad bit of fluff and pure angst (i'm sorry)

word count; 2.8k

summary; xiao hated you, but why did he find himself remembering you everyday, even way after you were long gone?

warnings; major character death, mentioning of injuries, blood and yes, angst, angst and angst.

notes; this is my first ever work here on my new sideblog for genshin impact! i'm sorry if i did no justice with this, i am new to genshin and the fandom overall, feedbacks are very much appreciated!

xiao hated you, he'd always been.

hated the very moment you set your foot inside wangshu inn, hated the way you smiled and kindly accepted the requests of people here with no objections, from repairing the wooden stairway of the inn to helping snatching some ingredients for smiley yanxiao, he hated how you were so patient with everything, even up until the moment you first reached out to him.

mortals were always so naïve.

of course he saw you venturing throughout liyue almost everyday, he saw you selfishly doing your daily commissions, and even though you barely survived in many occasions, he could see you were determined to finish whatever you were tasked to do, and he hated that.

the moment you found him at the balcony, you were trying so hard to communicate with him. you willingly went to such length, seeking verr's help to know more about him, and he wondered how you knew there was an adeptus here and why you wanted to talk to him.

he hated seeing your efforts, after all, he despised mortals for years, there was no need for you to waste your time in trying to talking out with him.

upon hearing rex lapis' death, he knew you were nowhere near to an ordinary mortal. a sigil of permission was even in your hold and how could he resist when you brought almond tofu, just to explain all the things that were happening during the rite and how you'd met other adepti before him, which ultimately led him to figure out that you met him to bring those news.

he thought that was it, the interactions between both of you was just a mere, small encounter. he'd mentioned countless times that you shouldn't indulge yourself in his world, and yet again, mortals were so stubborn, and so were you.

every single time you came across the inn, the wide smile on your face appeared as you met his eyes on top of the balcony, saying hello and asking how his days were, and sometimes, if you had more time in your sleeves, you would rant about how your day went by to him. he often shrugged you off, shamelessly hinting that he wasn't enjoying your presence in his lonely life.

but still, you managed to ignore his remarks perfectly, chatting with him like he didn't even call you a stupid mortal in the first place, and he hated that.

hated how you avoided his snarky comments every time you joined him stargazing or watching the moon, hated how you looked so proud when he finally accepted your almond tofu and he hated how you accidentally slept beside him on one night, he woke you up regardless and ignored the warm sensation he felt for the very first time in him.

"xiao," you called out, he was deep in his thoughts that he barely registered your action of ruffling his hair during one of the nights you decided to spend your time with him, and he eyed you with a grumpy frown, "what do you think you're doing?" he asked, smacked your hand off him harshly before you quietly flinched and sighed, used to this side of him whilst ignoring the slight tugging of your heart.

"the lantern rite festival should be around the corner soon enough," you mumbled, and you knew xiao definitely heard the words that he definitely didn't like to hear, "let's go and see the lanterns together?" you faced him, fully aware that indeed, his answer would always be no, no matter how many times you pursued him few days prior.

"no," was all he could say and you continued to add up on reasons why it would be worth it, especially for the adeptus in front of you.

and he hated how you were still stubborn as ever, somehow finding your way to tag him along and ended up in liyue harbor, you made him watched the lantern from afar anyway, and he hated how that night was so beautiful, it also pained him to see you smiling brightly under the light, easily fascinated with the gorgeous view that was laid upon everyone to see.

such a weird and fragile mortal.

he hated you even more, but this time, he hated himself.

hated how that particular night, when you walked him back to the inn together after partaking in the festival, brought himself to an epiphany. hated how he realised that you looked ethereal in his eyes that night as you enjoyed the cold, chilly wind. your cheeks flushed in slight pink, and he swore he never saw you in the same way ever again, how you tucked your dress to engulf yourself in heat, or to cover yourself, with cold breeze against your skin and, truly, he hated himself for allowing something foreign inside him, something he never felt, something akin to always having you by his side.

he'd always thought it was weird how mortals were attached to each other, yet here he was, found himself longing for your presence whenever you were far too caught up with your adventures. sometimes, you would hang out with him once or twice a week, sometimes you would only see him and greeted him from outside while you crossed path with the inn and sometimes, you were totally preoccupied with everything that was happening back in the city of liyue or, even worse for him, mondstat.

he hated how he was looking forward for you to be back, although you practically didn't live here from the start, hated how he desperately longing for you to call out his name. he vividly remembered once you called out his name just for fun before he warmed up to you—which was still the most hated action he'd ever done in his life so far—and ended up being furious at you because calling his name was solely for protection and for urgent matters.

but then why did he want you to call his name whenever you were away?

why did he feel heavy or why did his heart drop, whenever you were back in his sight with injuries? he hated how he cared for you, something he never knew he would feel and that this would affect his life greatly.

"where did you go?" the voice behind startling you from cleaning your wounds, you stopped by at wangshu inn, purely because it was the closest to seek a medical help from where you stumbled upon some ruin hunters, you barely lived yet again, but you did what your mind told you; run away.

xiao crouched in front of where you were seated, as you dealing with your cuts and dried up wounds, or blue bruises scattered across your arms and legs yourself, "this is nothing," you inhaled a sharp breath when the piece of cloth in your hand came in contact with one of your heavier injuries, "i'm fine," you looked up at him intently watching you did the bandaging, and you sent him a gentle smile at his way, noticing how he looked as if he was pondering over something.

"mortals are so weak."

"come again?" you asked with that stupid smile on your face, you didn't want to overthink, but the way he looked at you right now, was with something that made your heart melted. it wasn't that bad to think that he cared for you, even the slightest, right?

"nevermind," he turned away from you, his mask dangling by his side as he held his spear, leaning against the wall as he gazed directly into your orbs, "didn't i say that you should call my name if you ever need me?"

at this point, you might as well knew xiao more than everyone else, minus verr and some people here, and you knew exactly that he actually cared for you.

"it's alright," you couldn't stop from widening your smile, because deep down, you were insanely happy at him asking you that significant question, but of course, you didn't want to burden him with saving your life, a ruin hunter was what you'd always fought, but several ruin hunters were definitely not what you expected when you came across a ruin that evening.

"i don't want to burden you anyway," you trailed off, "you have something more important to take care of than me, xiao. people in liyue need you more than an outlander like me," you spoke the harsh truth out loud, you knew about his life, his karmic debt, what he had to go through as the final yaksha and you definitely didn't want for him to think that you were another burden in his life.

you were so stubborn, xiao knew this.

"yes, but what if your life was taken away?" he let out the one thing he concerned the most without thinking thoroughly, and before he realised what the hell did he say, you were up on your limping legs, went straight to him with calculating gaze and hugged him, "xiao," he was taken aback, what he was supposed to do when he actually enjoyed the warmth and the comfort you mentally provided to him, "i'm fine and alive," you patted his arm as you pulled away, xiao was flustered, he was stiff with your bold actions, "are you perhaps, worried about me, xiao?" you teased, and he hated how he loved the way you looked so proud looking at him in that state.

he hated you as much as he hated himself.

hated how he thought that you were his only source of happiness in this cruel world.

he'd suffering only from existing, and he hated how you made his life felt less lonely, felt as if there was finally a star that brightened up his sky, the sun that lightened up his days, the relaxing wind that comforted his nights, the presence that felt like home and the half that completed his heart.

he never wanted to admit it out loud, how he was so sure that this welcoming feeling was love, but in every way, no matter how many times his mind denied, he knew that he let himself indulging into the feeling more.

he should had stopped you from entering his life a long time ago, he should have been warned that the pain followed after was even more twisted and suffocating than the darkness inside him.

and your stubbornness that he was so familiar with, he ultimately hated that trait of yours.

"xiao!"

he stopped in his track.

"xiao!"

you were screaming, he didn't know why, but you were screaming, and you never screamed his name before.

the uneasy feeling settled in him as he straight up went to you in seconds, wearing his mask and bringing his spear along with him.

he hoped you were okay.

he could hear you chanted his name again and again, but the more you called out his name, the more heavier you sounded, and he hated the sinking feeling inside his stomach.

the moment he saw something red reflected on the grass under the bright moonlight, xiao was enraged, something was hurting you, and they weren't going to get away with this.

the darkness in him multiplied, and it pained him simultaneously, so much to the point that the thoughts of saving you and keeping you alive was eating him alive from the inside, and he hated how despite him losing control onto his strength, you clouded his mind.

he couldn't contain the madness within, the despair that he'd been fighting so hard resurfacing once again, his golden eyes flickering between you and the ruin hunters, you were bleeding, your breath unsteady and you felt cold, you could hear you frantic heartbeat against your ears loud and clear, felt like succumbing into the drowsiness that started to overwhelm, but you didn't, because xiao was right there in front of you, and your eyes met.

the world was slowing down, you didn't know what had gotten into you but you were itching to feel his arms around you, desperate to feel the warmth of his skin against you and you definitely wanted to ruffle and play his hair like you always did, despite him looking at you with such worry, before another ruin guard taking an obvious disliking towards you, charging itself and you turned your whole body away with none to little energy that you managed to grasp onto, and you screamed when something pierced your thigh, your blood kept on dripping, and dripping.

the sinister aura engulfed him when he saw you crying in pain, and he snapped.

before he even barely knew what he'd done, he plunged himself from the air, attacking all the ruin guards in his sight, a voice inside told him to keep attacking, and attacking, because they all deserved to die for hurting you, for hurting the mortal he never knew he would cherish and adore.

"xiao," your voice was barely above a whisper, and he dropped his spear, quickly dashing himself towards you who watched him fighting with such eagerness, you never saw him like this, he looked so broken and you were sobbing when his soft gaze met you, his hands gently taking your face in them, something that you never thought he would do to you as his first move.

even in your state, you still watched him in awe, and he hated that.

"let's go," xiao panicked when he saw you shuddered, your blood seeping through your once white dress. his voice sounded so broken, and he looked vulnerable for the very first time in front of you.

he didn't want to admit it out loud, but the way you looked so pale but still beautiful in his arms, the way you still trying to tug his hair, he couldn't believe that you were in your final moments, because he had seen countless deaths from the past generations, and he knew that you weren't going to last long.

"let's go, please," he murmured, the fear of losing you was too much to bear, and maybe, just maybe, he would bring you to dr. baizhu without any hesitation although he hated crowded places and that city.

he shivered, his arms desperately tightening around your waist, as if his life depended on you.

"i like you, do you know that?" you chuckled lightly, your smile, was still the perfect thing to exist in his eyes, but your eyes, your eyes held different kind of emotions, as if you knew that this would be your last time seeing him, and you were more than glad, heck, you loved the feeling of him holding you dearly.

"don't make a stupid joke, you're bleeding," xiao was still trying to get you up but you were so light-headed that you couldn't feel your legs anymore.

"i'm fine," you lied, "and maybe a little bit sleepy though," you mumbled and grinned, clutched yourself onto his arms and he never knew that the simple sentence could hit him right in his chest, something stung and he was at the edge of keeping his emotions in check, "i just want to shut my eyes, xiao," you trailed off, before xiao carried you in his arms, "stay awake," he said sternly, but his eyes were sad.

you lolled your head backwards when you felt that you were lifted, you had always enjoyed the night, because you found yourself with his company at nights more than during the day, you felt heavy, and the sleepiness was tempting more than ever.

xiao had always been that someone who didn't sway easily, but the way you were slowly shutting your eyes in his arms, made his breath hitched, his words no longer held formality in them, "i'll find dr. baizhu, please, please, stay awake, for my sake," if your focus wasn't on him, you wouldn't notice the single tear that landed onto your cheek.

your line of view was no longer clear, and he hated how your head fell backwards yet again, "i'm sorry," you couldn't croak a word anymore, you felt so heavy that your body started to relax against his, you were crying, crying because you didn't want to leave him, crying because you inevitably knew that your moment had finally came, and xiao would wander off alone again.

he deserved to be loved, but why was the world was so cruel on him?

xiao didn't know why you were apologising, all he knew that you shut your eyes as you said the words, "i love you," before he broke into tears and your hands dropped and you were no longer smiling.

you were no longer ruffling his hair like what you did before, he would never feel your sudden hug anymore, never hear your annoying voice again, never seeing you playing with his mask whenever you were with him, no longer tasting your almond tofu, no longer enjoying your affections and he would no longer see you in his life anymore.

you were gone, away from his life. away from the mortal realm.

even until the last moment, you said that you loved him, and he hated how he didn't say it back to you.

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[edenmemes]

ghost of tsushima starters

❝ promise you’ll remain the good man i know. ❞   ❝ only fools have no fear of death. ❞   ❝ i am very much alive. but my patience is dying. ❞   ❝ i’ll make sure you are remembered. as a great warrior...a wise leader. ❞   ❝ the strength we need is all around us. ❞   ❝ the past cannot hurt you. ❞   ❝ this whole journey, and i never asked your name. ❞   ❝ fear drives you to be stronger. fight harder. ❞ ❝ sometimes...our only choice is to walk away from everything we know ❞ ❝ we do what we must. that is why you and i are both survivors. ❞ ❝ i can do good! i just...need practice. ❞ ❝ may your next life be more peaceful than this one. ❞ ❝ i knew it was too good to be true. ❞ ❝ i'll see what i can do. but if you’re lying to me... ❞ ❝ you’re too comfortable with that power. ❞ ❝ don’t ever try to kill me again. ❞ ❝ turn your back on a foe...and you will die with a sword stuck in it. ❞ ❝ youre not slipping away that easily. ❞ ❝ just stay closed. keep your sword sheathed. and let me do the talking. ❞ ❝ the things i saw still haunt my nightmares. ❞ ❝ i dont even know if you're real. ❞ ❝ victories don’t have to feel good. ❞   ❝ killing your own family...it’s harder than you could ever imagine. ❞   ❝ it’s safer for everyone if i just disappear. ❞   ❝ next time, leave some glory for the rest of us. ❞   ❝ peace doesn’t always come quietly. ❞   ❝ some people respond to kindness. others require a glimpse of steel. ❞ ❝ i am nothing if not honest. ❞ ❝ stop using people, and start thinking about how you can help them. ❞ ❝ you’ve had your vengeance. don’t stand in the way of mine. ❞ ❝ you don’t have to do it alone. ❞ ❝ not all words need to be spoken. ❞   ❝ there is time yet for revenge. i will savour their cries of pain when that time comes. ❞ ❝ i have learned to love the cool, damp dark. ❞ ❝ the last thing i saw was faces filled with hatred, rage... ❞ ❝ you didn’t think you'd get rid of me that easily, did you? ❞ ❝ we will celebrate when this is all over. ❞ ❝ what’s wrong with you? one moment we stand shoulder-to-shoulder, the next you’re ready to cross blades. ❞ ❝ a warrior learns from their mistakes, or they are buried by them. ❞ ❝ remember your training...and never leave my side. ❞ ❝ well...i guess this is goodbye. ❞ ❝ your visions will grow worse, driving you to madness and death. ❞ ❝ i can only pretend for so much longer. i’m not like these people and never will be. ❞ ❝ i loved you all my life, but i could never work up the courage to tell you. ❞ ❝ the proud do not last, and the mightiest of us perish like dust before the wind. ❞ ❝ you’re a vision of mercy. ❞ ❝ not bad, but only half-good. ❞ ❝ we make a good team, don’t we? ❞ ❝ an archer’s aim relies not on eyes...but on body, mind, and spirit. ❞ ❝ this is my fight. i don’t need your weapon. ❞ ❝ being right doesn’t always make things better. ❞ ❝ there is nothing easier than to prey upon the vanity of ambitious men. ❞ ❝ you weren’t looking so good. i let you rest. ❞ ❝ your intentions this time were...better than usual. ❞ ❝ what are you not telling me? ❞ ❝ trouble sticks to you like shit on rice. ❞ ❝ it’s strange being back after so many years...everywhere i look brings back memories. ❞ ❝ only a child expects perfection of their elders. ❞ ❝ when this is all over, what will you do? ❞ ❝ you are ruled by your emotion. ❞ ❝ is this how you want to be remembered? ❞ ❝ perhaps great men share all the aspects of their lessers, but more. great wisdom, but even greater cruelty. ❞ ❝ i cannot imagine the burden a leader like you must bear. ❞ ❝ our greatest enemies are the greatest teachers. ❞ ❝ death’s shadow embraces me. hand in hand we walk. ❞ ❝ breathe. you can’t fight if you hold your breath. ❞ ❝ i know you well enough by now, my friend. ❞ ❝ i can’t go back...to what i was. before this. ❞ ❝ i hope you one day forgive me for the choice i made. ❞ ❝ the wounds you dealt my spirit will never heal. ❞ ❝ why did you turn away from me? ❞ ❝ if you can keep moving forward, so can i. ❞ ❝ it’s a bad idea to sneak up on me. ❞ ❝ promise me something. don’t become like me. ❞ ❝ let me undo the damage i’ve done. ❞ ❝ ...and you want me to clean up your mess. ❞ ❝ the path ahead may take a lifetime, but i will walk it with you. always. ❞ ❝ whatever you believe i’ve become, i will always be your family. ❞ ❝ i wouldn’t be here without you. ❞ ❝ i’ll hunt you past the horizon if i must. ❞ ❝ can i count on you to do what needs to be done? ❞ ❝ that’s over now. you’re here. with me. ❞ ❝ i thought i’d lost you, i should’ve known you’d never give up. ❞ ❝ you can’t continue down this path. ❞ ❝ be careful. demons are everywhere and they fear nothing. ❞ ❝ corpses can’t answer questions. ❞ ❝ you deserve greater respect than this. ❞ ❝ it’s just like the stories my father told me. ❞ ❝ what you become tomorrow is your choice. ❞ ❝ just ask the last man who questioned my sincerity. you’ll find his head covered in flies out back. ❞ ❝ you shouldn’t have lied. i still would have helped you. ❞ ❝ we came this far. we’re not turning back now. ❞ ❝ how do we survive if we don’t trust each other? ❞ ❝ without my help, the fear and pain will overwhelm you. ❞ ❝ whatever happens, we don’t retreat. ❞ ❝ the stories are true. i’ve never seen anyone fight like you. ❞ ❝ see how the enemy fear you? you are a true warrior. ❞ ❝ you want to share a drink...with me? ❞ ❝ maybe you should’ve just ran away. like you always do. ❞ ❝ good people have nothing to fear from me. ❞ ❝ your promises are just like you. worthless. ❞ ❝ as you wish, since you asked so sweetly. ❞ ❝ i know better than to argue. ❞ ❝ i hope i can find quiet places like this one, untouched by war. ❞ ❝ we grew up together, but you threw it all away. ❞ ❝ it was so chaotic. i felt you grip my wrist and then nothing. ❞ ❝ desperation can bring out the demon in the best of men. ❞ ❝ i don’t want to leave without you, but...i can’t stay. i hope you understand. ❞ ❝ a grown man, and you still can barely sit still. ❞ ❝ and i heard you had no sense of humor! ❞ ❝ knowing and doing are different. ❞ ❝ trouble follows me everywhere. ❞ ❝ indulging violence weakens the warrior...like too much food or drink. ❞ ❝ i can always tell when you want to ask me something. out with it. ❞ ❝ i am proud to fight beside you. ❞ ❝ i didn’t nurse you back to health to watch you throw your life away. ❞ ❝ all i want...all i need is to start a new life. ❞ ❝ look twice and shoot once. ❞ ❝ i think they’re afraid of you. you can be...intimidating.. ❞ ❝ you don’t even try to hear me. it’s like talking to a stone. ❞ ❝ so you try to kill me? have you lost your mind? ❞ ❝ you’ve sacrificed everything. for revenge. ❞ ❝ we can’t let anger consume us. or blind us to our friends. ❞ ❝ there is only one way this ends. ❞ ❝ i gave you everything. and you threw it away. ❞ ❝ do not question my integrity again. ❞ ❝ your father would be proud. ❞ ❝ the worst one can do is take advantage of their own people. ❞ ❝ you follow trouble. you should ask yourself why.  ❞ ❝ some of my favourite memories happened at this place. ❞ ❝ i told you this was a bad idea! ❞ ❝ keep fighting. we need people like you. ❞ ❝ are you the one who finally kills me? ❞ ❝ a warrior’s most important weapon is themself. lose control, and you risk defeat. ❞ ❝ first, get some rest. this is killing you. ❞ ❝ see that? i told you. there’s always hope. ❞ ❝ i hope the skills i gained through hardship can be of use to the people here. ❞ ❝ you have skill...but you nearly died rushing into battle. ❞ ❝ in the midst of battle, true leaders must stay rooted, stand firm. ❞ ❝ every time i get in a mess like this, i’m as scared as the time before. ❞ ❝ don’t be the next to disappoint me. ❞ ❝ save what we can, but know that everything passes away. ❞ ❝ i hope you understand, this is just a job. ❞ ❝ that’s a sad way to look at the world. ❞ ❝ seeing you like that...i’m still shaken up. ❞ ❝ sit with me a moment. ❞ ❝ doubt and indecision have destroyed armies. ❞ ❝ it’s so painful to...see you weighed down by sadness. ❞ ❝ on the slim chance some good comes of this...lead the way. ❞ ❝ you fought well, but we’re finished. ❞ ❝ the warrior’s mind is quiet but alive, like rustling bamboo. ❞ ❝ i’ve trained with a blade since i could walk. ❞ ❝ the visions...they’re still happening. ❞ ❝ in our world, being intimidating isn’t a bad thing. ❞ ❝ you have a talent. it’s time you use it, for the sake of our land. ❞ ❝ i've tried to teach you all i know...but you act more like a poet than a warrior. ❞ ❝ your path leads to madness and death. ❞ ❝ that’s twice you saved my life. ❞ ❝ these people stay because they believe in you. ❞ ❝ i didn’t choose this life. it was my only option. ❞ ❝ you came at me like i was your mortal enemy. almost broke my arm! ❞ ❝ i could use your help...in the fight ahead. ❞ ❝ you can be a little rough, but you have a good heart. ❞ ❝ i don’t want to kill you, stop! ❞ ❝ what’s wrong? afraid i’ll get more famous than you? ❞ ❝ war brings out who we truly are. ❞ ❝ take care where you place your faith. ❞ ❝ you seem lost in thought. ❞ ❝ i was getting tired of waiting for you. ❞ ❝ without my wisdom, you will lose your soul to madness. ❞ ❝ peace is an unattainable dream...but a dream worth fighting for. ❞ ❝ i’ve killed a thousand men. every death was sweet. ❞ ❝ what is the point of prayer when we are doomed? ❞ ❝ you’re like your father in more ways than you know. ❞ ❝ if you want my respect, earn it. ❞ ❝ and how many wars have you fought? ❞ ❝ you’re quite the butcher with that sword. ❞ ❝ people who sow chaos must be punished. ❞ ❝ i can’t help but wonder if you enjoy the violence. ❞ ❝ i kill only to protect our people. i think about that every time i reach for my sword. ❞ ❝ i'm sorry if my lack of skill offends. ❞ ❝ it’s the first time in days i haven’t felt like i was about to die. ❞ ❝ you fought like an animal...or a demon! ❞ ❝ there’s nothing more painful to me than a perfect bow...ineptly used. ❞ ❝ victory is won by warriors, not weapons. ❞ ❝ i couldn’t leave you to die. ❞ ❝ i made my choices. even knowing what they’ve cost me, i’d make them again. ❞ ❝ when’s the last time you slept or ate? ❞ ❝ you don’t get to give up. this land needs you. ❞ ❝ oh you pretend we are different, but we fight for the same thing. ❞ ❝ there are still places of beauty to remind us of what truly matters. ❞ ❝ true mastery begins where individual ego ends. ❞ ❝ a warrior faces danger with courage and resolve. this is how they endure. ❞ ❝ those stories...they're not entirely true. ❞ ❝ even the youngest warrior needs a full belly and a rested sword-arm. ❞ ❝ bad men are good at hiding their true natures. ❞ ❝ there is nothing left for me here. my hope is lost. ❞ ❝ i did what i had to. for you. ❞ ❝ forgive my manners. i spent all my time alone. ❞ ❝ is that any way to greet a visitor? ❞ ❝ if you continue down this path...you’ll be no better than the enemy. ❞ ❝ i am grateful for the times we share...but, i always want more. ❞ ❝ you lived your life in a castle. it made you soft. ❞ ❝ i used to know what i fought for... ❞ ❝ face them as a warrior with honour. not a monster. ❞ ❝ i don’t take lives, but i am not a coward. ❞ ❝ i wonder if i’ve crossed a line. ❞ ❝ you can’t expect everyone to understand what you’re doing, or why. ❞ ❝ your methods were brutal...impulsive...without honour. ❞ ❝ there’s plenty to fear without worrying about folktales. ❞ ❝ i hope you’ll find peace again soon. ❞ ❝ you do what you need to survive. and yet you despise others for doing the same. ❞ ❝ is that your excuse? your reason to kill? ❞ ❝ we have to keep pushing. even if it costs us our lives. ❞ ❝ cowards without honour deserve no mercy. ❞ ❝ i’ll fight beside you until the end. ❞ ❝ whatever happens, your forgiveness won’t change who i am. ❞ ❝ why should we settle for scraps when we deserve to be legends? ❞ ❝ only cowards strike from the shadows. ❞ ❝ the proud do not endure. the greatest of us fall in the end. ❞ ❝ perhaps some good will come of this. ❞   ❝ you will see nothing but death to the end of your days. ❞ ❝ legacy is more than a name. ❞ ❝ im sorry. i know what it means to lose family. ❞ ❝ one day we'll escape the endless wheel of suffering. ❞ ❝ is that a 'thank you'? ❞ ❝ i know what it means to be hunted. ❞ ❝ you personify fury and regret. ❞ ❝ that's all right. i want to hear you dig your own grave. ❞ ❝ either way, we’ve got nothing to lose. ❞ ❝ i’ve done what i can. the rest is up to you. ❞ ❝ forgive me, but you look fatigued. have you endured much hardship? ❞    ❝ i hope you find true honour in your next life. ❞ ❝ you deserve nothing less than death. ❞ ❝ this is foolish. surrender, and you can live. ❞ ❝ i too have pride in family. and i know what it’s like to live in their shadow. ❞ ❝ you were gone so long, i knew you were in trouble. ❞ ❝ so many of us here owe you our lives. ❞ ❝ what's wrong? what did they do to you? ❞   ❝ you’re lucky to be alive. ❞ ❝ i know your language. your traditions. your beliefs. which village to tame and which to burn. ❞   ❝ i cannot lose you again. ❞   ❝ i don’t seek revenge. but i will fight for peace. ❞   ❝ we will meet again soon. until then...travel safely. ❞   ❝ this is war --- not a test. ❞ ❝ we can save our home together. it doesn’t have to be like this. ❞ ❝ fear is a weapon. don’t let them use it against you. ❞

[koushou]

hey can i request a oneshot or hc for megumi, thank you 😩❤️

insufferable

pairing : megumi fushiguro x f!reader {small angst + fluff}

warnings : reader injury, gojo being a perv

word count : 3k

a/n : thank u for requesting! i'm a sucker for enemies to lovers, so this was fun to write, i hope you enjoy !

he’s been your rival for as long as you could remember, it was always some kind of competition between the both of you. although, the feeling you both feel for each other, is it truly as simple as hatred? 

Insufferable.

It was the only way to describe the dark haired boy standing in front of you, a smug grin playing on his lips.

“Alright, calm down, you two,” your teacher’s voice rang over to where you were standing as he made his way over.

Gojo sighs, running a hand through his hair as he eyes the both of you. 

“What did I say abo-”

“He clearly had a head start!” You huff, crossing your arms over your chest, glaring down your rival across from you.

“Are you accusing me of cheating?” He raises his eyebrows at you tauntingly.

“Anyone could tell that you ran before sensei blew the whistle!” 

“Maybe you should stop focusing on me, and work on bettering your own abilities instead.” He rolls his eyes while starting to walk away, obviously getting bored of the conversation.

“You—!” 

“Okay, okay, come on,” Gojo leads you away before you could tackle the boy with his back turned to you.

Megumi Fushiguro.

Your life-long rival, you guys had been by each other’s side for as long as you could remember.

Not that you wanted to remember, you hated him. And so did he.

Everything was a competition between the both of you, and although you would die before admitting it, your constant battles did improve you as a jujutsu sorcerer.

When you both found out you were going to be attending Jujutsu Tech together, you personally saw it as an opportunity to fight him even more, to prove that you were the stronger one, while Megumi-

Well, he didn’t care. He never cared about anything, anyway.

“Come on, we’re heading to the mission location,” Gojo begins to walk ahead of you, snapping you out of your thoughts.

You let out a sigh, wishing you could be in the safe confines of your room instead of fighting alongside your least favorite person in the whole world.

“Sensei, what are the curses’ grades?” You ask after the tall white-haired man, who was getting into the front passenger seat of a black car.

“They said it would be a couple Grade 3’s, nothing too much,” the older man yawns, stretching his arms over his head before cursing as they bump against the car’s roof.

“They also mentioned a special grade or something, I don’t really remember,” Gojo slams the car door shut, leaving you to roll your eyes at the man’s irresponsibility.

About to make your way to the car as well, you stumble as a force pushed you from behind, turning around as you get ready to attack whoever was-

“Try not to die to a couple Grade 3’s, alright?” Megumi smirks down at your fuming expression, before making his way to the car.

“I mean, I know they can be quite a hassle for you, but take your time.”

Inhaling sharply, you massage your temples with one hand, trying to suppress your frustration and holding back from tackling the boy to the ground.

“He’s so immature.” Nobara, one of your closest friends at Jujutsu Tech, comes up to you, rolling her eyes at the boy.

“Ignore him, let’s have some meat buns when we get back.” She sends you a wink before walking towards the car, to which you respond with a laugh.

There will be meat buns waiting when I get back, you thought to yourself, licking your lips unconsciously. It will be worth it, snuggling up back in your fluffy blankets, binging your newest favorite show that was airing today-

“You coming or not?” A voice breaks you from your daydream, snapping your head up.

“Ah, are you scared? Don’t worry, I’ll protect you.” Megumi smiles at you mockingly, chuckling as he shoves his hands into his pockets and entering the car in the back seats.

Ah.

This was going to be a long day.

-

“We’re here,” Gojo announces, unlocking the car door to get out. 

You all exit the car, stretching as you take note of your surroundings.

The mission assigned this time was to eliminate a couple curses who had sneaked their way into an elementary school. The students were still inside, so you had to be extra careful with fighting.

“Well then, let’s head in.”

Starting to make your way toward the school entrance, a small groan from the side halts you all in your tracks.

A green, slimy creature emerges from the bushes, crawling on its legs as it stares up at all of you.

It leaps forward suddenly, lunging at you, as you raise your sword in time to block it, slicing it in half in one swift motion.

It lets out a final groan as it drops to the ground, melting into a green blob.

“Not too bad, you actually killed it.” Megumi raises an eyebrow in amusement as you clean your sword of any of its remains.

“Thanks for the compliment.” You snarl at him sarcastically, drawing another sigh from Gojo.

You all continue making your way to the school’s front doors, when suddenly your teacher holds an arm out, stopping all of you.

“Shh, listen.”

There was a quiet voice- no, many voices coming from down the hallway of the school. The building was filled with black smoke, restricting your views of where the sounds were coming from.

It sounded as if the many voices were chanting a curse or spell of some sort, and you all knew instantly.

This couldn’t be the doings of a grade 3.

It had to be a special curse.

Gojo steps forward slowly, entering the black smoke as he checks the left hallway, before returning and nodding to you that it was safe.

You nod, slowly making your way into the school as well, turning to check the right hallway. 

The black smoke almost made it hard to breathe, you trying your best to swat away any smoke making your eyes tear up.

The chanting became louder as you entered the hallway, and you saw a figure standing in the middle.

Your breath catches in your throat, ready to turn and tell Gojo what you saw, but could you really describe what it was?

It stood at least two feet above you, with gray skin mixed with red blotches here and there and multiple arms hanging by its side. Horns and unidentifiable liquids stuck to its skin, with its mouth hanging open. It had the sharpest teeth you’d ever seen on a curse- no, you’d ever seen in your life- and drool pooled at the corners of its lips, if you could even call them lips, before dripping down its chin, staining the marble floor.

It continued to chant its spell, however it sounded as if the voices were in your head, in your eardrums, echoing through your brain. 

You could hear your name being called from behind you, probably Gojo, but the chants were getting louder, louder, and louder until the special grade was standing right before you, its tall figure looming over you.

Snap out of it, you thought to yourself, trying to shake its voice out of your head, commanding your legs to move. To turn back. To run.

Finally you felt your legs listening to you, and you turned around and ran. Ignoring the pattering footsteps of the creature following close behind you, you ran as fast as you could.

Finally, you could see the light at the entrance, where you all had been before, and you could almost see their faces, until-

“Y/N—!” 

A sharp pain shot through your stomach.

Ah, that voice.

The voice of your rival who had been competing with you, fighting with you, for your whole life.

It was like it all happened in slow motion, like in the movies.

Megumi and the others stood before you, with a horrified expression as their eyes travelled down, down to your stomach.

You followed their gaze, a dark crimson stain beginning to seep through your uniform, a sharp horn stabbed from the back, right through your body.

Ah, this was it. That jerk was right, huh? I am weak after all.

At that moment, your body went limp. All feelings left your limbs, leaving you to free fall forward, eyes closing as you begin to lose consciousness.

But not before you felt a pair of arms wrap around you, stopping you from the impact.

“Y/N! Wake up, come on, wake up—!”

Why do you keep shouting? You’re so loud, be quiet.

“You can’t do this, wake up— please—“

I told you to be quiet, geez, let me sleep already.

And the last crumb of consciousness left your body.

-

A horrible thumping pain in your head. Hushed voices from next to you. Fingers entangled with yours.

Wait- fingers?

It had never been so hard to open your eyes, wincing as a bright light from above hits you directly. 

Taking a moment to adjust, you finally looked around your surroundings.

It seemed as if you were in a hospital room, long tubes connected to your arms, hands, legs, making it hard for you to move at all.

You notice a doctor and Gojo speaking by the door, but what shocked you was the sleeping boy by your bed.

The sunlight seeping through the window shines on his slender face perfectly, dark strands of hair framing his sleeping face, one you could’ve almost teased him for until you notice his hands. Your hands. 

His fingers entangled with yours by your side, the warmth from his palm radiating through yours as the rise and fall from his breathing caused his hands to move slightly every time.

You wished you could snap a picture of this right now, but the comforting feeling of his hands against yours made you not want to move an inch.

“Ah, you’re awake, Y/N,” You recognized your teacher’s voice as he makes his way over to your bed with a relieved smile.

You feel the boy wake up with a jolt, eyes blinking to focus themselves, before settling on yours and widening. 

It was only then that he became aware of your entangled hands, quickly pulling away and coughing to cover the slight pink spreading across his cheeks.

“How are you feeling?” The doctor next to Gojo asks, holding a clipboard in his hands.

“Just a bit sore in my ribs, but nothing too much.” Megumi glances in your direction, and you would’ve thought it was out of concern before mentally slapping yourself at the absurdity of it.

“Alright, we’ll need to keep you here for a few weeks,” the doctor says, noting something on his clipboard. “I’ll be right back, we still need to give you a check-up.”

He leaves the room, and Gojo takes a seat on the other side of your bed, across from Megumi.

“I’m glad you’re alright, Y/N,” he sighs, before leaning back in his chair, crossing his arms behind his head.

“Good thing you were brought back in time, doc says that any longer and the injury would’ve been more severe.” 

You nod, facing your teacher, “Thank you sensei, I should’ve been more careful.”

He shakes his head, “It was a special grade, my fault for not notifying you all earlier.”

A grin spreads across his face, leaning forward slowly in his seat. 

“But I’m not the one you should be thanking.” He nods his head slightly to your left, making you turn to see a coughing Megumi, who suddenly thought his shoes were the most interesting things in the world.

Gojo chuckles, patting your shoulder as he gets up to leave.

“I’ll leave you two alone, Megumi take care of her, alright?”

Even behind the blindfold, you could sense that he was sending a wink your way.

The boy only grumbles in response, fiddling with his hands nervously.

You stare at him, before bursting out in laughter.

His head shoots up, furrowing his eyebrows as he looks at you still laughing.

“What’s with that gloomy look? Don’t tell me…” 

You tilt your head at him, a smirk spreading across your face.

“Aww, are you worried about me, ‘gumi?” 

The use of the nickname you made for him makes him scoff, turning away from you.

“As if. Just wondering about how stupid you were to get yourself hurt.”

He bites his lips for a moment, as if pondering his next words.

“And stop laughing so hard, what—”

Megumi stops and looks away.

“—what if your wound opens again?” He murmurs quietly, but you managed to catch it.

Your eyebrows raise in surprise, before chuckling at him teasingly, “So you are worried about me, liar.”

“Am not!”

“You totally are.”

“Keep lying to yourself.”

With a sigh, you close your eyes, refusing to argue with the boy any longer.

“By the way, what did sensei mean before? That you were the one I should be thanking?”

You open your eyes, waiting for his answer.

His eyes widen the slightest bit, before looking away once again.

“...s’nothing, don’t worry about it.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You raise your eyebrows at him, confused.

He shakes his head, showing that he wasn’t going to answer.

Groaning, you roll your eyes at his childish behavior, “God- you’re so infuriating sometimes, why—”

“When you fainted, I carried you all the way to the hospital, okay?! On my own damn legs, I ran all the way here, I don’t know why I did, but I did so stop asking—!”

Megumi shouts, panting as he finishes talking with an unreadable look in his eyes.

You gape at him slightly, still trying to register his words.

“You...carried me here? Why didn’t you just take the car?”

He scoffs, “The car is way too slow, I would be faster. Plus, your injury would’ve gotten worse so you should thank me.”

He eyes you, searching for any emotions on your face, but all you felt was confusion at the moment.

A few beats of silence pass, and Megumi sighs, running a hand through his hair.

“Well? At least say something.” He mumbles, shifting his feet on the floor.

You just look at him, not believing what he said, before laughing softly.

“Man, ‘gumi, if I didn’t know better, I would’ve thought you liked me so much that you were scared that I would die.” 

You teased him, expecting a scoff or an insult thrown back of some sort, but he just rolls his bottom teeth in between his teeth, not making eye contact.

“...so what if I do?” He finally says, so softly that you wouldn’t have heard if he wasn’t so close to you.

Wait, why was he so close to you—

The distance between you two closed as he leaned forward to meet your lips with his. The kiss was slow, inexperienced, but honest and passionate. 

Your eyes widened in shock, while his were screwed tight, afraid to open and meet yours.

A contrast to his appearance and personality, his lips were soft, fitting snugly against yours, the taste of him sweet, like cherries.

After a few seconds, he pulls away hesitantly, sitting back down in the chair.

The tension was so thick in the room, not even a knife could cut through it.

It was awkward for a few beats before he spoke.

“I-uh, sorry, I don’t know why I did that,” he rubs the back of his neck, a heavy pink dusting his cheeks.

“It..it’s fine, it was nice,” you spoke softly, almost whispering.

His head shot up, facing you. “You liked it?” 

You bit the inside of your cheeks, before nodding, slowly meeting his gaze. 

“Thank you, for saving me.” 

A small smile spreads across his lips. Not a teasing one he would use when he was making fun of you, not a fake one, no. This was different.

Megumi was genuinely smiling at you like you were the most amazing thing he’s ever seen before.

“No problem,” he speaks, before slowly reaching for your hand.

Watching you with a careful gaze for any signs of discomfort, he intertwines his fingers with yours, giving it a small squeeze.

“... I was scared, you know?” He sighs, eyes never leaving your face.

“Scared that… I would lose the one person I care about.” You flush at his words.

“I know, I treat you like you’re below me all the time, like you’re weak, but I-“ He clears his throat, not wanting to mess this up. He only had one chance after all.

“-I do care about you, and I get happy whenever we fight against each other, or with each other. I was scared that- that I would lose the most important person in my life.”

You couldn’t stop the smile spreading across your face, one part of you wanting to tease him like usual, but the other part of you, wanted to do something else.

You tug on his hand that was still holding yours, making him lean forward as you met his lips halfway.

The kiss was a little longer this time, you didn’t have to use words to convey your feelings. He knew. And you knew, too.

Pulling away at last, you lightly flicked his forehead, causing him to pout and rub the sore spot.

You giggle, looking down at your intertwined hands.

“I care about you too, Megumi. A lot. I always have.”

You smile.

“And I always will.”

He smiles widely, leaning forward once again until you hear muffled voices on the other side of the door.

“Do you think they’re having s-”

“Sensei! Stop being so loud, they might hear you—“

The door suddenly slams open with Nobara and Gojo tumbling onto the floor. 

Silence.

Laughing awkwardly, they finally stand up, nudging the other to speak.

“I- she- uh, we- woah—!” Gojo gasps dramatically at the sight of your hands together.

“So you were having s-”

Both of you flush at the same time, shouting at him.

“We weren’t—!”

You all burst out laughing, feeling Megumi squeeze your hand softly.

Gosh, making you feel butterflies in your stomach like this?

Megumi Fushiguro was truly insufferable.