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toruslvt · 3 months

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THE BEAST

⋆ wriothesley + fem!reader

( girl u in jail what did you doooo? /j it's not mentioned you probably stole a fonta idk )

⋆ mdni. heat cycles, knotting, praising, he fucks u hard rip that pussy. pet names: good girl, baby. reposting the fic I'm most proud of.

"you shouldn't be here"

"if you hate me that bad then…"

there's a chuckle resonating through the walls, metal rings around fingerless gloves clicking against the metal railing as the Duke makes his way down the stairs and next to you.

still at your side the man was a couple inches taller than yourself, bringing a slight feeling of nervousness around your body, or perhaps it was a natural response to the 'tiny' crush you had on him.

"your imprisonment is over, you're free to leave this place" Wriothesley mentions, arms crossed, eyebrows furrowing with a hint of scolding in his words to which you only shrug in return.

"i like to help Sigewinne in the infirmary" that wasn't a complete lie, but part of the reason for your continuous presence in such a place was due to the dark haired man currently standing next to you, whose presence was enough to get your knees weak and heart pumping wildly.

"mhm, I don't believe you" he mentions dully, fingers rubbing on the bridge of his nose yet his lips held a small smile on them, "I just wanted you to know I'll be out for a couple of days, a week at max"

"what?" you let out a high pitched sound, even though his erratic schedule wasn't news for anyone around, a week was far longer than any of his other absences.

"don't worry, Clorinde will drop by to check everything is in order" you stiff a huff, if anything, you weren't to admit the prison was the least of your worries.

"take care" was the only thing you managed to say. his hand felt heavy on your shoulder once he replied with a soft "you too"

a day passed and you already felt as if your 'not' lover left for war. the fortress remained the same as well as your usual activities at the infirmary, but the emptiness Wriothesley left alongside the usual meetings for tea and having lunch at the cafeteria started to burden.

but, on the other hand, a sense of pride bloomed in your chest since many of the guards went to find you and ask for advice regarding the fortress, quoting to their own sentences, you were the one his grace trusted the most.

"I am very sorry to bother you miss" one of the man said, "but since the Duke is out and miss Clorinde is still left to come back we decided it will be the best if you knew beforehand" strange rumors started to raise ever since Wriothesley left, some kind of 'beast' was heard from one of the pipes, and even though many guards already searched for clues, nothing was found.

"it's fine" you sighed, "please warn everyone to stay away from that place, at least until this issue gets fixed.

"it will be alright" Sigewinne smiles your way, trying to get your nerves on check while bandaging a man's scratched forearm, a match just took place due to the sudden influx of injured men, luckily no one was in mortal danger, but it was enough to keep you busy until your work hour was over.

but you should have expected that what the guard mentioned earlier was to keep you awake all night, to drag you out of bed and sneak past whoever was on patrol duty that night.

the mentioned zone was clear, no guards or prisoners looking for a challenge with an unknown danger, but especially, no sound besides the occasional water drop hitting a puddle on the floor.

another thing was the cool and smooth metal panels covering the walls, where your fingers slid trying to find any clue, knuckles hitting the material and ear pressed to find any possible hollow area.

and for what it felt like an eternity later, you heard a soft growl from behind the wall, right where your ear was pressed against.

you gasped by consequence, failing to stiff the sound so whatever was on the other side didn't hear you.

apparently, it did, since the growling stopped completely at the same time your back turned to flee and warn anyone nearby, as soon as your foot took a step, a hand covered your mouth and dragged you into some kind of dim lighted room before the door closed right in front of you, it was rough and calloused, and you could've had recognized it in the spot if it weren't because of the fear surrounding your whole body and freezing you in place.

"calm down" a voice rasps in your ear, an incredible mix of emotions running through your body in just a couple of seconds, starting with confusion since you were certain that was Wriothesley 's voice, passing to worry as to why is he in such place and lastly, flustering at the feeling of something poking on your lower back, his arms and chest warm and bare against your body.

"Wriothesley…" you pant once his hand leaves your mouth, "what is going on?"

he exhales heavily, letting you free from his embrace way too quickly for your liking, but allowing your eyes to take in his scar covered chest, drops of sweat dripping down his forehead and dampening the dark fabric of his half buttoned pants, and oh… he was hard. painfully you might add with how his trousers seemed to be about to burst.

"I'm sorry, I should have told you sooner" he starts and you think it should be you apologizing for thinking lewdly of him, "but you have to go"

"what?"

"it's not safe for you to be here" the man grits his teeth, backing up until the back of his knees touch a bed you failed to notice before, sitting on it with no care while his hands are in fists, tight enough to turn his knuckles white.

the threatening growl from man makes you flinch slightly, yet that doesn't stop you from taking a step closer, bared teeth with a single fang peeking from his bottom lip that buries in the lower until a single bead of blood pops up.

"tell me what's going on" you whisper in a slightly demanding tone, your relationship was close enough to mess and joke around, but watching him in this situation, and that he was so hesitant to speak broke your heart.

"i—" he swallows hard when you're close enough to smell your scent, a brief and almost imperceptible hint of arousal clouding his brain and stealing a hiss against his will.

unaware of the situation, thinking Wriothesley is in serious pain, you decide to rest a hand at the top of his shoulder, a friendly motion he often did with you but now, he just wanted to pull you by that hand and kiss you until you ran out of breath.

"I..." he starts again, gently holding your wrist and bringing it up to his mouth, smiling when you shiver visibly, "I go through heats, once every a couple of months"

"oh"

he chuckles, warm and genuine, raising his head to observe your expression, leaving you with shaky knees, his bright blue eyes a tone darker, hair damp and messy, inviting you to thread your fingers on it and kiss him stupid.

"that's why you're not safe here" the Duke whispers, still with his lips against your growing pulse, "I've been dying to rip your clothes off ever since I saw you, now it feels like I'd definitely die if I don't touch you in the next five minutes"

you gasp, surprised and turned on before replying, "make it one" and in the blink of an eye you're kissing him, hard and desperate while your body melts against his, pliantly letting him drag you down and sit you in his strong thigh where you're quick to grinding against, sloppily like the kisses you share.

"fuck" he growls and you moan, allowing his tongue to slip past your mouth while his thumbs press tight on your jaw, opening for a better reach while you can only take it and claw onto his nape.

his knee bucks up in a steady rhythm, one of his hands sneaking below your skirt, all the way up from your bare thighs to your soaked panties, "you're wet, I can smell it"

a pained moan escapes your lips, face burning in embarrassment but the look on his face is rewarding enough, pupils blown out, lips red and puffy letting out breathy exhalations. you barely get enough time to observe him before your eyes shut unconsciously at the feeling of a pair of rough fingers coming in contact with your clit through the flimsy underwear fabric.

"can I… please…?"

"yeah" you gasp, earning a whine from the man right onto your neck where he's nibbling, quickly getting rid of your skirt and half ripping your panties in the process, his pants get undone next, enough to fit his cock between your dripping folds flicking your clit with the engorged cockhead before pressing into your tight cunt.

he's big, bigger than you had imagined during sleepless nights of you touching yourself, but you're incredibly wet and doing your absolute best in taking a fat cock.

"oh fuck…!" you mewl, pressing your chin to the side of his head while Wriothesley continues to bite on your shoulder, careful not to pierce the skin as his hands find place on your hips, busy pushing your body down to take him whole.

"take it" he exhales, "I know you can take it, baby" and you whimper at the praise, thighs shaking from the stretch. his breath is hot against your collarbone, hips rolling forward that causes his cock to rub against the firm spot inside your cunt that leaves you limp, tugging your shirt from above your head so his hands freely get to palm at your tits once he's fully bottomed out, giving you a moment to adjust while he plays with your nipples.

"there we go" Wriothesley pants, hips snapping forward to fuck you deep, clutching onto the back of your head next to press his mouth against yours, bouncing your body up and down his cock in increasing speed.

"shit, shit!" Wriothesley groans, hips stuttering before stopping almost completely in what felt an attempt of self control, his tip coating your insides with immense amounts of precum, making you wonder just how much cum he actually held in those heavy balls that smacked against your ass in loud papping sounds.

"Wrio, you don't have to hold back" you whine through bitten lips, cupping his cheeks between your hands. and the moment where Wriothesley snaps will get forever burnt in your brain, starting from the deep rumbling groan, the twitch of his cock messily ruining your inside with hard precise thrusts, to the sudden movement of your whole body where he pins you down in bed, face down against the pillow with his hand pushing between your shoulder blades, ass up, face down while he successfully mounts you from behind.

his fat cock glides easily past your tight entrance, soaked in slick at the same time his thumb finds a place between your teeth, rubbing on your tongue the tangy taste of your slick.

"stay still" he grunts, dropping his forehead down between your shoulder blades while feeding your pussy the rest of his cock, "you smell so fucking good" Wriothesley is a mess of grunts and hisses, spreading out your ass cheeks to fit in properly inside your tight cunt, loving how the squelching sound comes louder in this position.

"too deep!" you scream, thighs shaking from the forcefully stretch of your walls around his cock.

"it's okay" he slurs, fingers pressing on your forehead to push you head up and kiss your temple, yet his hips continue to piston inside of you, dragging in your body with his on top of the mattress, his knees on each side of your thighs to perfectly fuck into you, driving his tip almost at your cervix with each thrust, "I got you, you're fine"

"Wrio" you sob, "feels so good"

"I know, baby, in know" he chokes out, eyes closed shut while pants escape freely between skin slapping, "you take it so good, my good girl, all mine"

"o-oh!" you whine, "Wrio please, you're so big, oh my god"

"don't say that" he grits, hips stuttering and pushing onto your waist so he gets to reach in much deeper than before, "I'm going to come soon"

"ngh" you moan, toes curling and pussy clenching.

"can I knot you?"

"yes" you reply way too quickly, digging your nails onto the sheets, pillow drenched from sweat and tears, "yes, please"

Wriothesley moans like a wounded animal, fucking you like one too with his hands on your head, pushing you down as if to submit you to him.

you can feel him twitching again, cunt fluttering in sync, clenching and begging to be filled with a scream of your own while you cum all over his cock, gasping loudly when his knot begins to push past your tight entrance.

"W-Wrio—" you sob.

"yes, I'm here, it's alright you can take it" he thumbs your clit, helping you ride out your high while his knot gets snuggled inside your cunt, digging his nails on the skin of your thighs while rutting into you, long and thick spurts of cum coating your walls.

"fuckin' perfect pussy, taking all of my cum" he groans, panting loudly and jerking his hips until every single drop of cum is stuffing your hole.

"are you alright?" he asks once you've calmed down, turning your body around to let you cuddle against his broad chest.

"yeah" you sniffle, overwhelmed.

"I forgot to ask how did you find me" the man grins, rubbing his cheek against the top of your head.

"people heard you growling like a beast" you sniffle again.

"... what?"

and you should have told him earlier, since you were certain now people might think that said beast was just some horny dog.

#genshin impact smut #genshin impact x reader #genshin smut #genshin x reader #genshin impact #genshin fanfic #genshin impact fanfics #genshin wriothesley smut #genshin wriothesley #genshin impact wriothesley smut #genshin impact wriothesley #wriothesley smut #wriothesley x reader #wriothesley #𐔌᭥ᩙ༉

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after-witch · 2 months

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Aisle 8A [Yandere L Lawliet x Reader]

Title: Aisle 8A [Yandere L Lawliet x Reader]

Synopsis: You're on your period, and your captor sits you down for a very special talk.

Word count: 1500ish

notes: yandere, kidnapped reader, reader has their period, misogyny, lots of period talk, L being a weirdo

It’s rare that you let your kidnapper see you squirm. Mostly because he’s admitting to enjoying the sight of you fidgeting on the couch or bed; apparently, all of your little body tics in such stressful moments are just absolutely fascinating.

So, whenever possible, you make your body sit (almost) perfectly still. You keep your face neutral. You bite back responses, swallow insults, and wait until you’re alone in the bathroom to cry. (Though you have speculated he may have a camera in there, despite the lack of proof, and his cagey denial.)

It works, most of the time.

Except for now--for several reasons.

One being, you’re on your period.

It’s not something you looked forward to pre-kidnapping, and it’s something that you dread intensely, post-kidnapping. Sitting in front of your captor while you bleed into one of the standard-issue pads you found in the bathroom--the thin, generic kind that are often stocked at public bathrooms--is certainly not the highlight of your day.

Two, and two is the primary reason for the way your body is currently shifting on the chair: L, your kidnapper, the person you hate most in the world, has presented you with a tray of assorted period products. Pads, of several sizes and materials. Tampons, the same. Period underwear. And a silicone menstrual cup, fresh out of a plastic wrapper.

Behind this tray, he sits on his own chair, knees pulled up, a small smile on his face.

He gnaws on the end of his thumb and looks at you with something akin to gleeful hope, and you’d like nothing more than to punch him in the face.

“Well?” He asks, voice lilting. “Aren’t you going to ask why I put these here?”

You’d like to ask him where he gets the nerve. But that would only feed his ego, you think. So you breathe in and out through your nose, slowly, carefully. You flex your fingertips and press your hands together on your lap.

“Why,” you say, slowly, carefully neutral, “do you have a tray full of period products in front of me?”

L beams. “Glad you asked!” He gestures across the tray, like you haven’t been staring at it for what feels like five full minutes. “I’ve been monitoring your last seven menstrual cycles--your menstrual bleeding cycles, in particular--and I have come to the conclusion…”

He leans forward, eyes wide, eager. “… that you are not adequately handling your period every month.”

You have put up with a lot of things during your months of captivity. The loss of freedom, of course. The lack of autonomy. L’s incessant, creepy staring. His tendency towards over-analyzing you. His love for mental games that leave you wanting to tear your hair out.

But this?

This is too much. Too far.

Especially right now, with the awkward feeling of blood pressing between yourself and the pad, and a dull ache of cramps sitting low in your belly.

The snort that comes out of your nose would be fire, if it reflected how angry you’re getting.

“And how, exactly, am I not--handling my period adequately every month?” Even though you know he’ll get some special entertainment from your mockery, you can’t bite it back.

L grins again. “I’m happy to tell you my conclusions.” He reaches over to a side table, and retrieves a stack of papers. Your eyes go wide. No way. No fucking way. He didn’t--

He did.

He taps the stack of papers on the tray in front of him.

“I’ve calculated that during your active menstrual bleeding, you are 57% more irritable than on days without bleeding. Although there are many ways to reduce your stress hormones during these days, you refuse to do anything except mope around.”

Your mouth opens, lips sticking to your teeth, but he puts up a hand before you can tell him that being fucking kidnapped is the reason you’re “moping around.”

“And yes, I have taken into account your… unhappiness with your current situation. While that should account for certain levels of your stress hormones, it doesn’t account for all of them, nor does it negate the distinct rise in your stress levels on these specific days.”

Your eye twitches. It actually twitches.

“What else,” you bite out, teeth grinding, “have you calculated in that report of yours?”

He tilts his head, still smiling. He might look cute, if you didn’t want to knock his teeth out.

“Would you really like to know more? I don’t want to bore you. Ah, but if you insist…” He flips through the pages, until he lands on something he’d apparently love to share. “I’ve also discovered that your current pad use is simply inadequate for the flow and consistency of your menstrual bleeding.”

He can’t be serious. Nope. He can’t be. You must be dreaming.

“Stop,” you mutter, cheeks blazing hot, chest almost equally so. “Just--”

“I think this is important,” he says, blinking innocently at you. “I’ve noticed that you’ve stained your clothing--undergarments included--several times, and when Watari had the sheets laundered, we spotted some--”

Nope. You’re not doing this.

You stand up, body shaking, skin hot and flushed with embarrassment.

“I’m not having this conversation,” you say, voice stilted, teeth grinding on the inside of your cheek to keep you from screaming. “This is weird. You are weird.” Your hand points at him, vaguely, accusingly, but you drop it without fanfare.

His smile tilts into the smallest of pout.

“It’s not weird to be concerned with your inadequate usage of menstrual products. That’s why I’ve arranged some samples for you,” he says simply enough. “So you can see which menstrual product is best suited to your size and flow. Personally,” he adds, looking down at the tray with mild fascination, “I’m interested to see if the overnight pads are really more absorbent than the daytime heavy flow. Shall we conduct an experiment to compare?”

“No!” The words come out practically shrieked, and you grab one of the cushions from the sofa and hug it close. Calm yourself, you think. Calm down. Don’t let him see you get mad. It’s what he wants. It’s probably the entire reason for all this---well, this.

“I don’t need you to tell me what products to use. Or how to manage my stress. Or--whatever else it is you have in there.”

L pulls out another sheet of paper. “Well, I have also considered the effectiveness of your using microwaved towels versus a proper heating pad--which you could ask me for, but haven’t--and--”

It’s your turn to raise your hand and, to your surprise, he stops talking.

“I’ve had my period every month since I was 11.” The inside of your cheek hurts--there will be a blister, and blood, soon enough. “You really, really think I don’t know how to handle my own period?”

Maybe this is your attempt at giving him an out--a chance to apologize for being so unbelievably awful.To admit he’s wrong, in some small measure. Your hands tighten around the pillow, in hope--in anticipation?

His eyebrow raises; there’s a quirk of a smile on his lips.

“That’s the strangest thing about all this. I calculated that you’ve had…” And the bastard actually recites the estimated number of periods you’ve had since you started puberty. “… in your life.” He taps the paper in front of him with one short, gnawed-on fingernail. “You really should have had a more logical plan for this by now.”

The cushion bonks off the side of his head with unsatisfying softness, and you stalk away, intent on going into the only room in the house where you get any semblance of privacy--the bathroom.

“I forgive you,” he calls out, even as you walk away. “I know you’re only overreacting with this level of aggression due to the elevated level of hormones in your bloodstream!”

You can hear the smile in his voice as you slam the bathroom door. The mirror rattles. Your breath comes out in awful huffs, and angry tears prick at your eyes. Stupid asshole. Smarmy bastard. It’s like there’s no part of your life he won’t dissect, won’t turn impossibly irritating, and he’s just--

Your eyes land on the box of pads you’d found on the day of your first period here. It was a larger, plain brown box with a bar-code in it--he probably got it from some bulk place, hence the low quality.

Only now…

The box is empty. There are no more pads, thin, shitty as they were. And you know you’re about to be finished with the current pad resting in your underwear from the feel of it.

There’s a soft, playful knock on the door. He knew--he must have known the whole time it was empty. Probably knew you’d wind up storming off in here, too.

“Did you decide which of these you liked best?” Even with his voice muffled by the door, the sticky self-assurance rings loud and clear. “I’m guessing you’ll need them sooner rather than later…”

Before you start looking for any object you might throw in his direction if he opens the door, he calls out again--

"If you've chosen the menstrual cup and you're worried about the insertion process, I watched the tutorial video and it's really very--"

You don't hear what he says in the end over your own muffled shriek into the nearest towel.

#yandere #yandere l lawliet #yandere death note #afterwitch writes #yes this is named after the king of the hill episode

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ara-line · 3 months

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Stop glorifying the suicide of that US airman.

He grew up in a cult and never really left behind the mindset of that cult, even if his beliefs on the political spectrum shifted. According to a former member of the cult, it was common for members to leave and end up in the military. She described it as "going from one high control group to another" in the WaPo article linked.

In short, he never got help that he clearly needed. And from what I've heard about the military, his time in it may have worsened whatever issues he already had.

His suicide is a bigger reflection of this very strange pattern on the left to glorify self harm since others are suffering. It's one thing to see children in a playground and think about how there are children in refugee camps who don't get to enjoy those freedoms. This is another thing. Bushnell, unlike many other cases of self-immolation (ie the self immolation of Mohamed Bouazizi, the man whose death kickstarted the Arab Spring) was not directly affected by the bombings in Gaza. Yet he chose an extreme route that even those affected by the situation, whether through being related to the Israeli hostages or through having family in Gaza, would not go to. This is a reflection of a larger trend on this website of self punishment and forcing every last gory detail of horrific events on yourself because of a) this feeling of powerlessness over not being able to do much about the situation and b) wanting to show how much of a good leftist you are because you will subject yourself to horrific violence to show how much you care. In reality, it is mental self-destruction. I've seen this behaviour in true crime communities as well.

I think a lot of the leftists on this site grew up in conservative environments where it's all or nothing right wing extremism. Thus, much like Bushnell, their political beliefs have shifted, but not their mindset. That's why so many people on this site are glorifying his suicide.

The reason newspaper headlines aren't mentioning his name is because we already know many school shooters do what they do for infamy. Therefore, by not mentioning their names, the media wants to avoid copycats. It's the same line of thinking here. It's got nothing to do with Zionism, according to some people who probably had no idea what that is before Oct 7 and not now, controlling the media. No, Zionists do not control the news cycle. You're perpetuating antisemitism when you say that.

Inevitably, since people on this site have piss on the poor reading comprehension, I expect this post to go over well. If you're going to tell me to kill myself, just know that you will be blocked and reported. Any dialogue ended the moment you decided that was acceptable.

#on society #palestine #israel #stop making the left look bad you donkeys #aaron bushnell #tw #signal boost #kindly: please get a job. Some of you need to spend more time interacting with humans offline #or at least get a hobby im begging you #not jewish but tagging this as #jumblr #because i want as many people as possible to read this #leftist antisemitism #antisemitism #free palestine #free gaza #again with wanting people to read this and just stop and think about what they're posting for one moment

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tarothouselattier · 3 months

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What plan the Universe has for you 🪞

*pics stolen from pinterest*

Pile 1 🏹

“The heart is an arrow” — Inej Ghafa. 6 of Crows

I see that if have been held back from a certain endeavour, the Universe is now aligning everything for you to move forward. If you have been done wrong in the past, I see you rising above that and receiving justice.

For most of you I see that you will be able to nurture your project/endeavour and finally start working on it. Your enemies will be dealt with. Prepare to defend and STAND for what is yours. No matter how many people tell you your ideas are stupid, or they try to cut you down or don’t believe in you. You believe in you. The Universe believes in you and does everything for you to move forward. Nobody will be able to hold you back. Your ideas are devine, fiercely believe in what is yours and protect it with the might of your spirit.

I just feel the need to tell you that I love you and you got this, honey!❤️🙈

Please put in an ask in my box and tell me what it is you’re going through lately or what you’re planning, if you want)

Bye <3

PILE 2🧨

“I say whatever I want, I do whatever I want” - IDGAF by Drake & Yeat🎶

Honey, you are about to be so BLESSED. You’ve got an opportunity to shine here, my love. It’s so funny to me how your channel picture is a match and literally every single card that came out for you is on FIRE. Like, brrr. The Universe plans for you to rise in confidence. You are about to have a very joyful, prideful and inspired period of your life. Literally feels like you’re on fire. Your come in yourself is about to rise, you will be enjoying life more.

I asked the Universe WHY this is the case, and She says you have been in a resting period and have been completing a stressful cycle of your life. You don’t deserve all that stress, honey, gotta enjoy, ‘cause life’s too short for ANY bullshit that you don’t enjoy. So I suggest you go all OUT. Fuck them people who are thinking they have a say in YOUR LIFE. You do you, boo. For some reason I have a need to talk to you extra like that, but it’s the energyyy, okay. Go shopping, go play outside, do whatever it is that makes feel good. You deserve and you’re a Queen bitch!!❤️‍🔥 Don’t forget that.

That is the plan for you, dear pile 2 people.

What have you been doing prior that got you to exhaust you joy meters and resources like that? I would love to know. Come tell me.

Love ya, byeee~

PILE 3 🪞

“Oh, she doesn’t see, the light that’s shining. Deeper than the eyes can find.” — Scars to your beautiful by Allesia Cara

I see you breaking the chains others have put on you. You are going against what you’re told and you’re finding your true voice. It seems to me that you are indulging to much in the thing that don’t actually matter to avoid the bigger issues. You feel like you are being held back from your desires and the world is so close yet so far out of reach. It’s being unfair to you. You blame your problems on the world, but ask yourself, what exactly have you been hiding from yourself and why do you feel so comfortable shifting responsibility for your fortunes and misfortunes on a higher power. Isn’t it so convenient that it’s out of reach?

Ponder on this, please. Your picture is perfect for you, because that’s exactly how you feel. Like something or someone is holding you back from your freedom. But the truth is, the only one who can hold you back is you.

The plan is for you to realise this and close out this cycle. Find personal freedom.

Guys, this is my pile as well. Come talk to me however you want.

Bye-bye💜

#tarothouselattier #tarot community #free tarot readings #pick a card #tarot pick a pile #pick a pile #pac #tarot reading #tarot pick a card #tarot advice

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isawritesshit · 6 months

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The Color Blue - Prologue

image taken from @ lovevivianne on pinterest

Synopsis: As the only daughter to the leader of the Kamo Clan, you were trained and protected to one day bring your father honor through your marriage to the heir of the Gojo Clan. However, your husband ended up being something that your family never prepared you for. As you come to navigate a new world of politics between the clans, your husband convinces you that there is nothing wrong with honoring yourself too.

Warnings and Content: fem! reader, fluff, themes of forced/arranged marriage, hints of mental abuse, mentions of sex, mentions of menstrual cycle

Author's Note: As promised, the official start of my next Gojo series! Just for context, this is an AU of the JJK canon events (no KFC breakup, and as of now, no mention of Megumi). It is also inspired a little bit by my other Gojo series Someone. Other things I want to flag is that I do plan for there to be nsfw content in this series, as well as themes of physical and mental abuse. As of now, I am unsure how long this series will be. Updates will depend on my availability to write.

Word Count: ~2.4k

___________________________________________________________

People would say that if there was one thing that Gojo Satoru was not, it would be committed. Not in all ways, however. Satoru was very committed to his sorcery, to the protection of ordinary people and the balance of the their world and the jujutsu one. It was relationships that he struggled with. Yes, he had always had an authority problem, both growing up and even now, so his relationships with jujutsu elders and other clan leaders were never good to begin with, especially when he became a clan leader himself and took up the title as “The World’s Strongest Sorcerer”. However, his friends? He cared deeply for them, but he could never show them that, lest he risk the possibility of them getting hurt for that same reason. Lovers? Absolutely not. They would last a week at best, hence why his friends would say he had commitment issues.

But, what many people did not know was that Satoru was betrothed to be married, and if there was one thing that he could say that he was committed to, it was that.

And not just because he knew that the responsibility of upholding the Gojo Clan’s honor and survival was on his shoulders, but also for a reason that no one could have predicted.

The first time Satoru had seen his future bride, they were both young, too young to understand why each of their parents were sitting across from one another, or why the most important members of the Kamo Clan were staring him down when he was barely even five years old. But when his parents asked to see you, that’s when everything changed.

You were carried into the room by a caregiver and left in between the two families like you were some kind of meal. A veil-like mask covered the front of your face from the nose down, but Satoru could tell you were roughly his age. Your wide eyes looked about. First at your caregiver, who stepped out of the room with a bow, then to your parents, who didn’t even seem to notice you, then to his parents, and then finally to him, the only other child in the room.

Gojo Satoru didn’t know it at the time, but it was at that moment that he had fallen in love with you. That same day, it was agreed upon that the two of you would wed when he was 25 and shortly after you turned 24. That seemed like such a long time, but… Satoru decided that maybe he would try to speak to you when he saw you next.

Unfortunately, that wasn’t possible. Both of your families kept each of you on a tight leash, and neither were inclined to meet with one another just because the Gojo heir wanted to see his bride. They were rival clans after all, with a long history of vendettas and alliances.

However, just because Satoru saw you once didn’t mean that he stopped thinking of you. Even as a pre-teen, he sounded out your name in his head, sometimes aloud when he was alone. Kamo (Y/N). It was one of the few things he knew about you, other than what your eyes looked like. He knew that those eyes had likely changed over the years since the first time he saw you, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t think about them. About you.

There were a few other things Satoru knew about you. You were the only daughter of Arao Kamo, the Kamo Clan head. Not only that, you were his youngest child and had three older brothers, all of whom Satoru had never met before. He would take in what his parents would tell him about you, though it wasn’t much; only that you had a different cursed technique from the blood manipulation that ran strong in the Kamo line, and that you were naturally beautiful for your age.

But Satoru wanted to know more. He wanted to know what your interests were and if they were similar to his. He wanted to know more about your cursed technique and what kind of training you had received. He knew that you would receive some kinds of etiquette and liberal arts education, as was normal for daughters of the clans to do, but did you like any of those things? What foods do you like? How have you grown?

What did the rest of your face look like? That was the question that replayed constantly in his head after Satoru was notified that him and his parents were to meet with your family again to make some further updates to the arrangement. Maybe this would be his chance for him to finally speak with you, to get to know you.

But it was just the same as before. There was no caregiver to bring you in this time though, and no other Kamo representatives other than your mother and father, whom you sat beside.

Satoru remembered staring at you the whole time, taking you in. His parents didn’t lie. You were beautiful and he hadn’t even seen all of you, and you also carried yourself maturely for a young girl. Your eyes had changed, of course, more grown but still just as wide and lively as he remembered. Your face was no longer obscured by a mask. Instead, you held a delicate fan that matched the kimono you wore, covering your face as you listened intently while your parents spoke, but never speaking yourself.

You didn't look in his direction even once.

The meeting had concluded before he knew it had begun. His parents had needed confirmation of your fertility, since they were to be among the first to be notified when you started your cycle. However, in an offer that was a bit unexpected, your father had requested that the marriage date be moved up five years, to which his parents agreed. That part made Satoru ecstatic. Instead of waiting 12 years, he now would only have to wait seven.

With that, you bowed and departed behind your parents, swift and silent. Satoru tried not to look like he was running as he tried to catch another glimpse at you when his parents excused him, but when he peered out the nearest window that overlooked the front lawn where you had arrived, you were already gone.

And so, Satoru would go another seven years. Another seven years of thinking of you, dreaming of you, wondering what you looked like behind your fan and cosmetics. He had hoped to see you enrolled in the same class as him at Jujutsu Tech, though he knew for a fact that you most likely would not be. Your parents, more so your father, he realized, protected and sheltered you more than ever after that second meeting. He had expected you not to show up to that first day of school, but when that first day was over and you actually didn’t, a small part of his heart still sank.

Satoru did take some females to bed during the next seven years you spent apart, mostly out of curiosity as to what sex felt like, but also by persuasion of his friends. However, his friends would get confused as to why he would never allow those girls to stay the next morning, or why he would insist on wearing a condom even when they gave him permission to finish inside. He would give the excuse (thought it really was the truth) that he actually wasn’t that interested, or that he also wanted to protect against STDs (the latter was a great insult that had women storming out on him, to his relief). In reality, he wanted his first real time, his first enjoyable time, to be with you. Even if he was allowed to take on any amounts of lovers he wanted both in marriage and out of it, he felt guilty knowing that you had to save yourself for him. So, in a way, he was saving himself for you too.

As the years came closer and closer, he began to think of you more and tried to subtly gather more information on you, to little avail. He knew that this pining and longing could be considered childish, but he didn’t care. Was it wrong to want to come to love, to already be in love, with the person he was to spend the rest of his life and create a family with? Satoru certainly didn’t think so.

However, that didn’t mean he was without restraint. After his parents had passed and the mantle of the Gojo Clan leader was given to him, he didn’t try or demand to see you. After all, the two of you could still be considered strangers. Hell that is what you were, he had to remind himself. He figured it would be best to keep you with your family and not disturb your current life, especially since you would be seeing your family less once you came to live with him (but also because he didn’t want you to see him as some obsessed maniac). He decided he would be patient and wait, which would make your first real meeting with him all the more sweeter.

Those seven years passed by too fast, he realized as he stood in the center of a magnificent shrine in what could have been the most spectacular and slightly uncomfortable outfit he had ever worn. Your family surrounded him on almost all sides as they awaited your arrival at sunset. Your parents and your brothers with their wives sat off to Satoru's right, and he could feel their eyes on him the entire hour that he stood there in a calm panic. After what seemed like an eternity, your headpiece peaked slowly over the hill as you ascended the path to the shrine. He held his breath.

He noticed your eyes again first.

They were downcast, melancholy, almost near lifeless. Not anywhere the lively pools of color he remembered and saw so often in his dreams. Your blank expression was such a contrast to the splendor of your being. Indeed, he thought that he was being pledged to a goddess, the way your updone hair and headpiece played in the golden sunlight, the way the whites, golds, and reds of your wedding kimono and wraps made you look like a princess, and the way your face, your whole face, looked like it had been extracted from a star.

To put simply, you were the most gorgeous woman he had ever seen.

Finally, you found your place beside him, your hands clasped in the folds of your long sleeves. It took you standing this close for Satoru to realize how much smaller you were than him, though he quickly discerned how much your face and demeanor had shaped into womanhood since he last saw you. He would catch glimpses of you when he could throughout the ceremony, taking in more of your features that you had laid out for him. The curves of your face, the shade and suppleness of your skin, delicateness of your hands... His heart was beating so rapidly, hoping that you would look back at him at least once.

But you never did, even when you presented one another with ceremonial wine, or when you took his arm to leave the shrine for the reception dinner that was filled to the brim with Kamo Clan members and other officials. As soon as you both entered that reception, your fan was over your face. You didn’t say a word to him the whole time, so he never said anything to you.

A cold sweat had laid itself over Satoru as you said goodbye to your family members. It wasn’t the type of goodbye that he would expect a family to give to their only daughter. There was no affection, no emotion shown, as if leaving your family was merely another ceremony. And then you turned back to him, eyes still looking down of course, and got into his car without a word.

Satoru could tell that something was wrong and off about you. Sure, you had carried yourself gracefully throughout the entire evening. Every movement you had made between walking and eating and sitting was done to absolute perfection. Maybe it was those monotone movements that should have been his first sign. No, it wasn’t that. It had to have been your eyes. Why were they always so bleak? Why did you never look up at him or make eye contact with him or speak to him? What had happened to you since the last time he saw you?

At least your fan wasn’t up. That he could be thankful for. Satoru sighed. He couldn’t help but feel like the happiest day of his life, the one where he finally got to be with the girl he had loved for 15 years, was the saddest day of your own. He wanted to ask about it so bad, now that he had you alone, but he didn’t. He would just look at you every so often as you watched the Tokyo scenery pass by through the car window. Maybe this was your way of taking everything in, and he didn’t want to disrupt that. He trusted that you would talk when you were ready.

You remained silent as the car stopped and he walked you up the stairs to the front door of his home estate, one of the many under the Gojo name. Your new home. In a perfect world, in what he had imagined previously, you would have been smiling and excited as he picked you up to walk you through the doorway. In that world, you would have hugged and kissed him as he twirled you around and around in your own private celebration.

The door closing behind him brought him back to reality. You now stood in the center of his grand foyer, eyeing the dark polished wood and rich splendor of your new dwelling place. The space was only illuminated by shaded lamps and a dim glass chandelier above the grand staircase. A new couch, your couch, was against one wall, one of many of your belongings that had been moved in a week ago. Satoru decided to sit on that couch while you stood in the center of the room, looking down, not moving.

Satoru couldn’t take this anymore. It was like you treated the floor like it was the most interesting thing in the world. As if he, your new husband, wasn’t sitting ten feet away from you. He even considered the possibility of you being deaf or mute for a moment. No, he didn’t know what to do, other than speak to you. But what to say? Are you feeling okay? Are you happy? Sad? Were your clothes uncomfortable? How come you didn’t speak or look at him? At anyone? Was it something you were afraid of? Were you afraid of…

That had to be it.

“Are you afraid of me?”

#isawritesshit #jjk #jjk smut #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #female reader #gojo smut #satoru gojo #anime #gojo satoru x reader #satoru gojo x reader #jjk x reader #gojo satoru smut #satoru gojo smut #arranged marriage #forced marriage #someone #the hoes gonna love this

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batwritings · 7 months

Text

Kinktober Day 22 - Teratophilia

Finally caught up! Sorry for the spam ya'll, I needed a bit of a mental break. ^^; Enjoy!~

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The different creatures that made up KorTac was always fascinating to you. Being one of the only humans made you stand out in a mostly hybrid military force. It was interesting being the one on the receiving end of all the questions. Not like you didn’t have any yourself of course, but that was neither here nor there.

There was one member however, that not many people knew about. König. The colonel was a complete mystery to most everyone in the company, yourself included. Despite all the questions thrown his way, it was like he had become and expert at dodging them.

You hadn’t meant to walk in on him and discovery his secret, honest. So needless to say, both you and the Austrian giant that led your company were both a bit startled when you walked in on him changing. You quickly shut the door behind you, just on the off chance somebody else could see.

Where a normal human being would have a mouth and nose, this man had a variety of tentacles. Each one was littered with scars, and varied in their shape and size. “What can I help you with?” the voice you heard seemed like it came out of nowhere, but it was definitely the voice you knew to be his.

You stuttered and stumbled, trying to find the words to tell him your reasoning for being there. König sighed heavily and crossed his arms, leaning back against the wall of his room. A familiar tingle was spreading down to the very tips of his extra appendages and he knew what was happening. “You need to leave,” he tells you briskly. “I…can’t be responsible for what happens if you stay.”

You cocked an eyebrow briefly before you saw his body language shift. Your eyes immediately drifting to your colonel’s crotch, judging by the scent in the room. You’d done your research on a variety of hybrids once you were accepted into KorTac. You wanted to be aware of the different challenges your teammates faced and how you could help them during those times.

For cephalopods, they did face mating seasons, like many others and twice a year at that. And that’s when it dawned on you, the issue in the room. Your colonel had been about to lock himself in his room for said time of year.

Now, any sane person would bolt, run from the room and mentally scrub their eyes of whatever the hell it was they just saw. You were quite the opposite however. You straightened yourself up and cleared your throat. “How can I help, Colonel?” you asked, putting as much emphasis on just how genuine your offer was.

König’s eyes widened a bit as he considered your offer carefully. On the one hand, he’s finally have somebody to sit through his cycle with him. On the other, he often times didn’t know he own strength during those times. A risk he was willing to take.

“Lie down,” he tells you, the voice you hear ar more growly than before. It’s as if you’re compelled to obey, your legs carrying you over to his bed and laying back. “Now take off your pants and undergarments.” You follow along as you’re instructed, moving quicker than you probably would if this were something more formal.

But this is instinctual and you knew it, both of you did. You watched with curiosity as König kneels between your legs, spreading them gently. His large hands splayed across your thighs sent a wave of arousal straight to your sex. You hear your colonel chuckle quietly at your reaction.

“Eager are we?” the Austrian hybrid purrs. The first couple tendrils to touch your leg startle you and your body instantly recoils a bit. “Hush now, schatz. I promise you this will feel good.” And like that, you can feel a soothing wave rush over your skin. Like a safety net, letting you know all was okay.

The suckers along König’s tentacles drug across your skin. The pull was lightly painful, but in a very pleasant way. They surround and caress your sex, tugging and rubbing everywhere at once. Your hips try to buck up off the bed, but a firm hand holds you still.

“S-Sir!” you moan, head falling back. Your sense are foggy and fuzzy with pleasure, enough that you barely miss the tendril that prods your entrance. You can feel him moving his body against your leg, no doubt creating friction against his erection.

“You taste so good little one,” the hybrid hums, sounding more as if he were admiring you than pleasuring you. “You’ll taste even better once you come for me, no?” You can only whimper and nod your head in agreement. Words were beyond you now; the only thing penetrating your fluff filled head was pleasure.

You can feel puffs of air hitting just above your sex and look down to meet his gaze. His chest is heaving, as if he were borderline coming. “Yes my dear, you’re making me feel good,” König tells you. Part of your still sane mind wonders how in the hell he guessed that, but you’re not exactly in the state of mind to be asking questions.

One, then two slicked up tentacles penetrate your hole, kissing along your walls as they slowly fill you. Your eyes roll back in your head from the explosion of pleasure. It felt like it was building…building until–

“Come.”

The command breaks you, has your orgasm hitting you like a freight train. Your back arches up off the plush mattress these “heat” rooms, as they were called, had. All the way, your sex is all but milked by König’s tentacles.

You’re shaking by the time the tremors of pleasure finally slow. Strong hands help your body relax back down, so you’re simply flopping yourself over. “Well done schatz,” you hear the hybrid praise, accent a bit thicker now. You can feel him rub soothing circles across your skin, helping to ground you.

You sit yourself up onto your elbows, doing your best to slow your breathing. Your colonel chuckles softly at you, patting your outer thigh. “I hope you’re not too tired yet hmm?” You give him a quizzical look; all your readings stated that cephalopods usually only lasted a single round. “I am more than just a hybrid darling, I”m a man as well. “And I have much more that I need from you.”

#bat writes #könig x reader #cod x reader #cod smut #könig smut #könig cod

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taexoxosgf · 5 months

Text

2:00 AM

bf!jaemin x fem!reader

warnings: toxicity because i’m ill (sue me), gaslighting, angst, making out, groping

“I’m blaming you because it’s your fault!” you step closer, orbs firing at his. He doesn’t move an inch, instead stands his ground. Jaemin continues to look at you with this challenging look as if urging you to continue, and if you do, to find out what happens next.

You aren’t scared one bit. You both have been arguing for most of the night, but both parties don’t regress. It’s a cycle that drains but also a high you can’t get enough of.

“I told you, I didn’t tell my friends about your personal issues,” he lowers the pitch of his voice and lowly enunciates each word to get the point across to you. As if you were a fucking child. You hate when he talks to you as if he’s superior and you’re just a dumb person who’s blindly in love with him.

“Then how does Jeno know about something so personal?” you grit. It was so obvious your boyfriend was the cause but refuses to admit his fault, like always.

“I don’t know!” he throws his arms up at the apparently absurd question. “Maybe you told someone and forgot you did,” he seems satisfied with his refute, but you don’t fall for it.

“Oh come on, stop with the shitty excuses and just admit that you opened your damn mouth,” you’re practically fuming at this point, the wheels in your head turning after every second that passes.

“I think you’re making things up in your head because you know I’m right and you remember telling someone other than me,” Jaemin scoffs.

“Are you serious right now?” you take another step closer, a step too close as the tip of your noses brush after every syllable exchanged. “Look who’s making shit up now? These same responses are getting a little old, aren’t they?” you push against his chest with your pointer finger. There's practically zero space between the two of you and the temperature of the room seems to continue to rise. It’s probably because of how furious you are and the steam that's practically coming out of your ears.

“What about you? Huh? Aren’t you tired of blaming everything on me? Aren’t you sick of always picking a fight with me for no reason?” your boyfriend sneers. It seems no matter how long these occurrences take to resolve if they ever resolve, Jaemin refuses to back down.

Rolling your eyes, you lick your teeth before continuing,” So many fucking questions, and no answers to mine. Ever.“

“Keep talking and see what happens when you continue using that mouth of yours.”

“I fucking hate you,” you spit.

“I fucking hate you more,” he steps forward, those same words slowly being uttered. He's challenging you again, but the more he talks like that, the farther you both stray from the beginning.

It forces you to take a step back to prevent falling. Even though you take a step back, Jaemin follows you, keeping the same proximity previously exercised. There's mere silence as you both await the first move. And after what feels like a million years, his eyes flicker down to your lips.

Damn you. Na Jaemin.

A million things are going through your mind and the line between right and wrong becomes blurred in these seconds of thought. It’s as if there's a devil on one shoulder and an angel on the other.

But the silence is finally broken when Jaemin’s hand wraps around your nape to roughly bring your lips to his.

Fuck, you’re so mad at him.

But your body still tingles at every touch and the rush of adrenaline coursing through your veins adds to the growing addiction that is him.

His hands are all over everywhere. He grips your ass, moving up to your hips. and finally pushes his heated hands below your thin shirt. His palm covers the majority of your abdomen, the same hand extending up to your breasts. Your boyfriend groans against your lips the moment he realizes you’re not wearing a bra. When he kneads your tits, focusing on your sensitive nipple, your mouths move languidly with each other, fitting like puzzle pieces, and you groan at the stimulation.

At your moan, he recognizes it as the perfect opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth, and you welcome it with ease. It’s all too familiar, all too addicting when he grunts the moment your back hits the wall of your shared apartment.

Why does this feel so good when it shouldn’t?

#nct #nct dream #nct smut #nct u #jaemin #nct jaemin #nct drabbles #nct hard thoughts #nct hard hours #nct angst #na jaemin #nct timestamps #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct x reader #nct x y/n #nct x you #jaemin na #nct dream jaemin

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 5 months

Note

WIBTA for using my status as an agender person to get a surgery I want although I do not want it for gender-related issues ?

TW : talk of uterus, menstrual cycles and menstrual blood

I'll start by saying this is not the US so please don't make your judgement based on that. I'll describe how things are in my country.

So I (X24) want my uterus removed. The main reason is that I want to be sterilised to stop having so much anxiety about becoming pregnant, which would be a nightmare for me, and I never ever want this to happen again.

But I can't get any other form of sterilisation as then I would keep my uterus, so I would keep my period, and without hormonal treatment it's just not liveable. To give you an idea, my natural cycles are 21 days instead of 28, I get my period for 7 days instead of 5 and it can be hemorrhagic for up to 4 days of these 7. (I used to get post-op medication because of the hemorrhagia before I was under contraception.) And of course I get through excruciating pain every time, beside having iron deficiency among other things. I'm currently trying another hormonal contraception, it's still not going well. There is always something wrong. My first pill just stopped working, the next ones made me gain 20kg, I'm currently trying hormonal IUD and although I don't bleed as much, I bleed for so long and there is so much pain that no available painkillers can block. I'm so tired. I can't imagine going through that for another 15 to 25 years.

In my country, it is written in law that you are allowed to be sterilised using various methods, all of which keep the uterus. Nothing is said for hysterectomy as a sterilisation method. And although many refuse to sterilise you at all, if you find the right surgeon you can be no matter your age. The procedure is also fully reimbursed. Nothing is said in law about hysterectomy.

This means that the vast majority of surgeons won't remove your uterus. Except if you have a pathology related to it or if you're trans (coming back to that later).

So what I described above does look like a uterus with a pathology, right? It certainly looks like endometriosis at least. I went to a surgeon known for doing the other kinds of sterilisation and tried to convince him to just remove my uterus. He refused, not without an asserted pathology. To his credit, he looked for it. He had me take an MRI. Well, they found nothing.

Which means that, although I have a pretty dysfunctional uterus that I never want to use and just keeps causing me problems, he won't remove it. Because they can't find the cause. Even though I feel completely alienated from my body because of that damn organ that keeps trying to make me bear children and will have me bleed out and in pain when I won't allow it.

Then there is the other solution. I said above you could get surgery if you are trans. It's actually a bit more complicated that that. In order to get HRT and gender affirming surgery, you first need to get diagnosed with body dysphoria by a psychiatrist. And then you get a special status in our health system that allows you to get free access to all kinds of things in the medical field (like surgery and HRT) and beyond (like laser depilation).

As I said, I'm agender. They give this status to nonbinary people so my specific flavour of gender (or lack thereof) is not the issue. But I don't have body dysphoria, only social dysphoria. People misgendering me to my face will make me feel horrible but I don't see my body as gendered. My breasts and specifically my uterus are not something that I see as gendered, so they're not something that causes me distress in terms of gender-related issues. Which means as psychiatrist is never going to diagnose me with gender dysphoria as is, and I won't have access to hysterectomy through trans care.

Except if I fake it.

Now, I have no idea if it could even work. If I could even fool someone. But I've been considering trying because I really, really want to get rid of that damn uterus. And technically, I wouldn't be faking my gender identity. Just expanding on my dysphoria. Still, it feels wrong. I wouldn't transition in any other way except removing the uterus. This path doesn't feel like it's mine to take. I feel it would be disrespectful towards actual, dysphoric trans people.

So, what do you say Tumblr ? WIBTA if I tried it anyway ?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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nicklesbam · 3 months

Text

Sleep

TW: angst, mental health issues

I know this isn’t the latest story you guys thought I would be posting but I know a lot of people are going through a hard time right now and so am I, I thought why not make something out of this feeling yk?

not proofread, I did all of this in about 30 minutes or so

Y/N POV

Sleep. Why do we need it? Is it the constant state of tiredness? An escape from reality? Who knows, all I know is I can’t seem to fall asleep

Throughout the days I get more exhausted, my smile starts to wear thin, and my eyes feel like they’re ablaze. I just want to stay coupled up in my room

But I can’t. Every day it’s another curse and everyday we kill it, it’s like a cycle on repeat day in and day out

“You look tired,” Gojo spoke as we were walking in silence beforehand. I just look to him, my eye bags giving it away, “have you been getting enough sleep?”

“I’m fine, I just didn’t get much sleep last night. I’ll go to bed early tonight” I lied through my teeth. I’m helpless, nothing feels how it should, nothing is how it should be. We continue to walk in silence back to jujustu high

Once I get back to my room I change and just lay on my bed. Why am I like this? I was just fine a couple days ago, so why now? I had so many unanswered questions

I kept up on my training as to not alert anyone of any implications that I’m not doing alright. I remember when Suguru Geto was still here, we used to be close. I remember what it was like to fight beside him, how we used to have fun along with Gojo but it’s in the past now. Now my future is full with cursed spirits

I dream of a place in my mind where I could go. I could just go and never have to worry about anything. I would have my best friends beside me and there would be no cursed spirits, everything would be perfect. It was a dream for a reason

I haven’t been able to bring myself to eat much, only what I need to stay alive. I’m in darkness and I don’t think anyone could pull me out, it’s too late. I curled in on myself under my blanket, sniffling for reasons unknown to me. Sometimes everything we do as sorcerers gets too much, it’s starting to get too much for me and it was too much for Suguru Geto. Tears streamed down my cheeks as I started to sob loudly under my covers

I heard the door open but I didn’t care, I had finally broke the tall standing wall I had put up. The person rushed to my side and lifted the blanket. Gojo stood there with a worried face

“Y/n! Are you ok?” His question just made me sob more. I couldn’t control myself at this point

“Is there something you need?! Something I can do?! Please! Tell me!” He doesn’t know what to do, I myself don’t know what to do. I just lay there a sobbing mess as one of my best friends stares at me with worry etched across his face

Suddenly another pair of footsteps sounds in the room. I can’t move, I can’t see who it is

‘Just leave! Please! I don’t want you to see me like this!’ I shouted in my head only for it not to reach my lips

“Y/n are you alright?” I recognized the voice as shoko. She tried to touch my shoulder but I shook it off. I wanted to scream, scream until my lungs give out, scream until I can’t breathe, scream until my best friend is back. My pillow was soaked with tears

Gojo hesitated as he moved closer to the bed. He lifted the covers and climbed in the bed with me while Shoko gave him a confused look. He moved closer to me until we were only a couple inches apart. He listened to me sob into my pillow, quieting my screams. If I could only see the hurt look on his face, I would’ve been broken for good. He suddenly wrapped his arms around my waist and brought me to his chest. One of his arms stays on my back as the other strokes my hair softly

“Let it all out.” Was all he said. I sobbed into his chest, my screams breaking both of their hearts as it is mine. Gojo let silent tears fall down his cheeks as he couldn’t help it, he already lost one best friend and he wasn’t ready to lose another

Shoko stared in concern at the scene in front of her not knowing what to do so she did what she could and sat on the bed next to us. She gently laid her hand on my back and rubbed soothing circles. Both of the physical sentiments seem to help calm me down, soon I was reduced to silent tears and hiccup breaths as I felt my exhaustion consume me

Gojo was panicking on the inside as he held his sleeping tear-stained best friend in his arms. He didn’t want to lose another friend, he’d already lost one and he wasn’t ready to let go of another. He held onto me as tightly as he could without hurting me. His tears still stream down his face quietly as he worries what my future could look like, a sorcerer? A curse user? ….Geto? He quickly ran the idea out of his mind

I fell asleep in the embrace of two of my best friends and I realized something. I may miss old memories, old friends but my most loved ones are right here with me. I can’t have time pass me by while I’m still stuck in the past, yes it takes time to heal and it can’t be done overnight but it has to be done or it’ll consume me

I avoided sleep for the longest time hoping I wouldn’t see his face. I always wondered how he felt in his final weeks before he turned to the other side until I realized, this is how he felt. He felt alone, he felt hatred, he felt sorrow. I don’t think there’s even a word for everything he felt. I felt horrible knowing one of the people I cared about most was suffering in silence for so long and we couldn’t notice

I felt grateful, grateful that I have friends who see me hurting and what I’m going through. Who don’t know how to help but they help anyways, that’s the kind of friends I don’t want to push away. I’m happy to know that I’m not alone through all of this and that if I need someone they’re always there

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nortsauce · 2 months

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HERE COMES NORT, YAPPING ABOUT FANDOMS THAT I’M NOT EVEN IN!

(And i’ll be typing the rest here because there are too many slides so read bellow)

⚠️ WARNING ⚠️

My LONG ASS rant on how MHA (among other things) fails to present its ab*se victims in a good way,

Starring the todoroki family

So, i know literally no one cares but i feel like it needed to be said: but MHA has a BIG issue with victims of abuse being treated kinda shittily, to making whole arcs about their abusers.

This isn’t a HUGE thing, as the lack of sympathy for Hawk’s abusers was definitely there, but they still were portrayed in a semi-sympathetic light. This is not the main focus however.

I’m sure many could go on and on about Bakugou and Midoriya’s relationship, but thats not what i’m focusing on.

I’m focusing on the most OVERLOOKED and ABHORRENTLY handled dynamic of the Todoroki family

I will be going over each of the characters and why they suck in some way, but as a whole i have to talk about this: Each one of the characters of the family are all victims of abuse in some way, and represent the different ways that trauma affects the victim, i understand that.

All in all, they do a good job of portraying the different ways in which the people handle abuse,

Endeavor being one who never dealt with his past egotistical superiority complex and threw his baggage onto his family/children to live vicariously

Rei being the one who is emotionally/physically damaged to the point of a mental break

Touya being the ex-golden child, and the one who continued the cycle of violence (and misogyny but thats another topic for another paper)

Fuyumi being the one who holds onto an idealized version of a family that possibly only existed in her dreams, being codependent and longing/working to get those “happy times” back with her family, clinging onto smth that was possibly never there

Natsuo being the one who is (justifiably) angry at his abusers, cuts his family off and goes to pursue his own life/dreams

and finally shoto

the one who realizes his role as the golden child is only for his parents to live vicariously, breaks his cycle and is trying to figure out who he is.

These are all great representations of how people cope/handle trauma, and i believe that was on purpose, considering that it also speaks on abuse of children on baselines of being in a famous family.

However, certain aspects are clearly not handled properly; allow me to explain.

Shoto, the youngest of the family, is often seen as the architect of the abuse, as the family was actually quite “fine-living” (i’ll come back to this) before shoto was born.

There were obviously cracks in their family from the beginning, Touya being the golden child despite not being able to physically handle his own power without hurting himself (an allegory i’ll discuss), the fact that Enji (endeavor) basically bought his way into marrying Rei, and of course enji’s complex of being less than All-might.

However, many characters seem to blame the birth of Shoto for breaking the camel’s back, and starting the domestic violence that had already threatened to spill through.

It’s shown through the anime that shoto has a kind heart and never liked enji, due to the fact that he would harm him, his siblings, and his mother,

but for being the tritagonist of this show, we never get to see how he really feels. In all of this, perhaps we could see him feeling guilt for being the reason his family is broken, the possible resentment yet dependency he has for his father, the thoughts on how he feels conflicted yet guilty about his mother and continues to blame himself.

Its interesting how he never stops blaming his father, but regardless we only get his apathetic views on his father and no one else. Its saddening to see the sideline of the victim of abuse while his abuser gets a whole arc. But i’m not there yet.

Moving on we have Natsuo and Fuyumi. I grouped them together because they both have opposite ways of dealing with their trauma, as Aforementioned: Natsuo tries to cut all ties while Fuyumi tries to be a “normal” family with her remaining members.

Both of them have valid ways to why they act this way, and its tragic, however, the way they deal with their youngest sibling, shoto, is disheartening to say the least.

Both of them understand how Shoto was physically abused since he was 5, and neglect to form any sort of connection with him despite his better efforts in natsuo’s case, using him as leverage against his father and nothing more, while in fuyumi’s case, basically presents him in her fantastical version of him in their fantastical “perfect” family life, causing him to have multiple meetings with his abuser and forcing him to relive the trauma so she can have peace of mind.

In hindsight, this is all interesting heavy topics to explore in a character, and i was honestly curious to see how it would be handled

however it all faltered as soon as I saw the hospital scene.

SPOILERS:

After Dabi’s Dance, the todoroki family comes to visit Shoto and Endeavor in the hospital, both of whom are heavily bandaged and bed-ridden.

Despite this all, Rei, Fuyumi, and Natsuo force todoroki, who is burnt and recovering his voice, to get up and walk over to his father’s ward to speak to him.

Shoto, despite being unable to form full sentences, makes it FULLY CLEAR he does not want to be there, by closing the door to his ward, and attempting to leave. Despite his clear efforts, his family makes him go in to talk to him.

this 16 year old boy being forced out of RECOVERING, fully bandaged and barely able to talk, forced to visit his abuser to hear him cry about not being able to fight his own son, depsite also being his son and physically harmed by him since childhood.

In my opinion that wasn’t a good move on any of the family’s part.

Rei is a difficult subject to discuss. She is clearly a victim and has been for. while. She is mentally distant after being harmed for so long and spent time in a psyche-ward to handle herself.

Saying that she was a bad mother would be too far in my opinion, as she did her best to provide a nice life for her kids as well as defend them from her husband.

Not much is said about her, but from what we can tell she loved her kids very much, until the abuse started.

I feel the blame for shoto began with her, not being able to face her own son after the “death” of her first and the fact that his face reminded her of the abuse she’s faced from endeavor.

Her character is honestly an interesting one, but she is not safe from my scrutiny of the hospital scene. She was very brave for facing her abuser like this, however, she did not have to drag her bedridden youngest into the fray.

She is the DIRECT reason shoto has a scar on her face, (indirectly endeavor’s fault)

But i will never blame her for the abuse she faced for her children, by her husband and to an extent, her own son touya, which leads me into my next point

SPOILERS

Touya, aka Dabi, is the “Late” eldest brother who was originally Endeavor’s ticket into living vicariously to defeat all-might and be the number 1 hero.

I could go into the psychology of his character but he is ultimately very interesting. In all honesty the way he is presented as being the consequences of endeavor’s actions is palpable and honestly quite raw. At a young age, he was handling the pressure of being his father’s perfect creation, and the fame and fortune that followed as he sought his father’s approval. Soon, his quirk began to burn him every time he used it, a fact that endeavor ignored to pursue his goal. Touya’s power became self-harm at some point, an allegory for his disregard for his own life and well-being for his father’s dream which ultimately (literally) exploded on itself.

Touya’s story is interesting, from his abuse causing him to act like his father craving his approval, which lead him to act put against his mother and shoto, while laying his baggage onto his younger siblings, to losing his mind and realizing that he wanted his father dead and continuing the cycle of abuse further.

This is all a deep and interesting way to look at abuse and how the abused may become an abuser, HOWEVER.

MY critique here, is how sidelined his whole arc is, as his story is more portrayed of Endeavor’s past coming to haunt him, all for the watcher to sympathize with endeavor rather than understand how the abuse endeavor put onto touya made dabi. This whole arc was framed to be sympathetic towards endeavor, and to fear Dabi. Don’t even get me started on how Shoto’s feelings meant nothing in this arc, as well as being immediately cut off by a surprise cameo of a character that possibly discredited Dabi’s expose video on his abuser.

Finally, we get to talk about the elephant in the room: Enji Todoroki, endeavor himself.

What is there not to say about this man.

I feel I should start eith the obvious:

The forgiveness/sympathy arc for endeavor was quite possibly the worst thing to ever happen in the anime, and this is not subjective.

The whole arc is based around how Endeavor is a victim of his own mind and is trying his hardest to make up for being a terrible person.

Personally, i love to see character arcs of villains becoming a better person, but thats the very thing: Endeavor is trying to ask for forgiveness from his family, who he abused for 15 YEARS. This is no exaggeration as Shoto is now 16, and his cracks started forming as soon as he was born.

Endeavor had illegally married a woman that he basically bought his way into,

was illegally “breeding” (eugh) for quirk benefits,

Treated one of his son’s like a vicarious version of himself

Physically abused his son (age 5+) his wife, and verbally abused the rest of his children

isolated his son

treated his son like a weapon

and finally felt too prideful for any sort of meaningful apology.

This all adds up to a character who only felt sorry for his actions after the consequences started hitting him in the face, as he only felt remorseful when Shoto refused to be associated with him.

Now, some of you may be thinking: “A lot of characters are forgiven for more, why would he be the exception? It’s fictional why do you care?”

There are several reasons to why I care but i’ll speak in terms of framing for now. This show is highly influential to not only kids (as it is a KIDS SHOW) but to adults as well. May i direct your attention to the man who saved a woman from a murderous ex-boyfriend by blocking his machete hits all because My Hero Academia inspired him to take action and be a hero?

Or how about a murder that took place because the accused was inspired by an invader zim episode (the dark harvest)

Whether you like it or not, fiction HAS an affect on reality. Yes, we can determine what is real and what is fake, but you cannot deny that a lot of what media we consume helps us be who we are.

If the show promotes more sympathy towards an abuser than their victims, then people may find themselves sympathizing real world abusers over the voices of victims.

I wont speak on delicate subjects but I can already see affects of this happening, as people rally to defend famous people accused of being abusers rather than listen and provide support to the alleged victims.

In conclusion, These topics are definitely not easy to write, and I, for one, am NO expert and my word should not be used as gospel truth or a guideline on how to write these characters.

This is all simply my opinion on how the bias towards abusers in the show leads for the message to be skewed and marred in action.

I understand that no one is perfect, but if we only reward and sympathize with those who only seek redemption after they face scrutiny, then we lose the meaning of what makes someone worthy of forgiveness.

These topics are deep and interesting, but the way they are handled in this show is simply bad writing.

Thank you for coming to my ted talk and again: no shade towards the writers. Just critiques!

#nort speaks #media analysis #//abuse #mha #my hero academia #todoroki #the todoroki family #touya todoroki #shoto todoroki #rei todoroki #enji todoroki #endeavor #dabi #natsuo todoroki #fuyumi todoroki #dont expect me to suddenly start posting abt mha #im not arguing with anyone either #thesr are my thoughts 💪

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probablyhuntersmom · 1 year

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An Uncommonly Discussed Trauma Symptom

Disclaimer: This is in no way a substitute for therapy: it’s only psychoeducation. Please consult a therapist and/or hotline and get the help you need if you are experiencing mental health difficulties, especially if experiencing distress or issues that feel unmanageable.

Warnings: Mentions and discussion of suicidal ideation, death, abuse and violence.

Special thanks to @ashanimus and @childlikegoblinqueen

Ever heard of "the sense of a foreshortened future"?

If you have suffered trauma over a sustained and long enough period of time, you may find that you can't imagine yourself living long. You can't see yourself reaching milestones, because it hardly makes sense to your mind that you can go on for that long...given how much you have felt like you've escaped danger, given just how many close calls you have had in life.

Yet the sense of a foreshortened future is a separate thing from suicidality.

If you have both of those together though, it really isn't fun because they may feed one another in a cycle, in the way that symptoms under the same mental health condition have the potential to do the same.

It isn't a desire for pain to end (which is what suicidality is), more so a generated expectation that takes root, and a framework which a survivor tries to fit their experiences into, with the goal to get things to make as much sense as can be. Because it's often the easier thing to devise a simple formula, to feel certainty and to manage one's expectations: rather than embrace the grey areas of uncertainty about how life will turn out.

It's almost as if this feeling of a foreshortened future is in a tug-of-war match between what appears to be solid reasoning, and a person's natural survival instinct along with the hunger for a meaningful life.

This symptom isn't on the *official* criteria for a psychiatrist or clinical psychologist to make any diagnoses, it is not listed in the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders, Fifth Edition (DSM-5) or International Classification of Diseases, 10th Revision (ICD-10). But informally it is sometimes categorized as an avoidance symptom under both PTSD and Complex PTSD, and also under longer-term depression.

(however, I think it can extend to other conditions. The key criteria is it emerges from repeatedly experiencing horrible things until it makes sense in one's head to expect themselves not to last much longer)

If you hop onto Google Scholar to find proper research about it, the findings are very scarce because it's hard to define it, empirically measure it and quantify it in the first place.

Again, it's not the same as suicidal ideation because a foreshortened-future view is an expectation, while the latter is about a desire.

I wasn't taught about this symptom in any training and supervision before becoming a licensed therapist, nor did any of my own therapists bring it up as psychoeducation when I saw them. It was only through online articles on informal websites that I stumbled upon the phrase and it all clicked for my long-term experiences.

But I feel it is good knowledge for anyone providing psychotherapy to bear in mind.

In The Owl House, the grimwalker lore weaved into Hunter's arc, can shockingly be linked with this symptom, symbolically and thematically.

But the show's age rating means it would likely be too dark for the writing team to explicitly incorporate it into Hunter's dialogue.

Hunter was a lamb marked for the slaughter early on.

He has questioned his survival and ability to thrive.

The following article on Psychology Today describes Belos's long-term influence on Hunter pretty well and provides info that strengthens the points I'm making in this whole post:

Link

It's bad enough that before Hunter and Luz found Belos's mindscape, he struggled with the fear of failure to the extent that there was already the raging inner battle between his primal survival instinct and the already knackered part of him that sought eternal rest from his suffering (showing up as suicidal thoughts):

Fast forward a number of episodes...and we see the looming horrors in Hollow Mind that culminated in Hunter's discovery of what his predecessors went through:

followed by permanent rejection by his parental figure:

The power held by a foreshortened-future view, and its potential to isolate you - to make you feel like you're invisible, or a ghost - can be strong.

What Hunter said to Gus in the following screencaps sums up what it feels like pretty well:

In the context of having an abuser, it emerges from the negative beliefs they impose on you. It gets tricky if those beliefs are internalized, and which may remain internalized even after you get to safety and away from said abuser. Internalized until they become what you expect of your life.

It's about those thoughts which you know in your rational mind are lies, but you feel their apparent truth. They go more silent when you practice self-care but they return to try and reel you in again, and to a degree, they succeed in getting you to believe them all over again, before you renounce them once more.

Being in the C-PTSD Club along with Hunter, I personally experience the feeling of a foreshortened future as a voice deep down which almost always says that life feels too long and it therefore feels absolutely weird, like it doesn't make sense. Life feels too long, contrary to that commonly heard cheesy quote, "Life is too short to blah blah blah".

When I reached milestone birthdays like my 21st, it was confusing and made me irritable, feeling an itch deep down that I could not scratch.

The voice asks me why the heck I'm still around when it apparently doesn't make sense. It's a pervading feeling which can be pretty annoying, though I have it far enough in the background that it's like noise instead of being a source of distress.

It's not the easiest thing to explain this, but Hunter may have confusing thoughts creeping into his head like "Caleb didn't last long, why would I?" whereby such thoughts have a strange feel to them. They aren't exactly hard rules, nor are they distant enough that they can be easily brushed aside. Brain hurty, emotions spooky.

After the horror of this night:

I can definitely see Hunter wrestling with this symptom from time to time. No doubt. It was a major loss of autonomy and control that would significantly aggravate what was already brewing deep down.

I'm doubtful that the crew even established this on purpose (unless they actually consulted trauma experts and/or experienced mental health practitioners), but...this one symptom ties in with grimwalker lore so perfectly...it's hella fascinating that all Hunter's predecessors' lives (including Caleb's) were cut short. Prematurely.

They came with an expiry date set by their abuser: something very characteristic of this foreshortened future feeling, though not unique to survivors of abusive home environments (e.g. if you experienced natural disasters over many years, yet had a loving family, you could also feel like you may not live long). And Hunter's experience of seeing the grimwalker graveyard in Hollow Mind is a shockingly visceral and visual metaphor to symbolize a concept like this, which matches perfectly with his symptomology as a Complex PTSD survivor.

The battle for inner peace has a high price: it is ongoing, and extends beyond him being physically free from Belos. Because Hunter can't just trim away the Belos-related memories from his earliest years and formative years. He can't forget, but he can choose to give those memories less attention, and choose not to let them take the steering wheel in the long-term.

In my opinion, the possession scenes don't just portray the physical experience of an abuser returning to try regaining control or restoring the status quo of having the survivor in their grasp.

The scenes also represent the abuser's imprint upon the survivor that lasts beyond the duration for which Belos is present in Hunter's life. Belos is the kind of abuser that is so insidious that he knows he could leave some marks that outlast his directly physical presence, in the event that he meets his own end. He would have definitely thought about this. Leaving the kind of grisly reminders that won't ever technically fade away (not to be confused with how they can certainly "fade further into the background" via therapy, new positive experiences and the support of loved ones).

For example, the patterns of the permanent scars on Hunter look so much like the patterns on Philip's own face and body. When possessed, the markings were dark green, later faded to the colour of scar tissue once Belos leaves his body.

As we all know, it's hella sad to imagine Hunter having to look at himself in mirrors throughout the rest of his life. It was awful enough that he had the haircut-related panic attack.

If we tie all that back to the symptom of a foreshortened-future view: Hunter might be left with a spooky nebulous feeling (that will alternate between coming back to haunt him, and subsiding) that he too has some expiry date that is different from how the people around him naturally and confidently expect to live a substantially long life. As a cult survivor with C-PTSD, Hunter can't afford the luxury of those natural expectations.

I don't mean that he might plan a day in the future to end his own life, not at all. But he may have a strange ghostly expectation of how long more he has till his life may come to an end, and he wouldn't be sure of how this subconscious expectation came about.

The darker days of navigating the confusing mess of his complex trauma may feel like exhaustion from paddling and swimming to keep your head above water to breathe.

Speaking of water and drowning, plus the theme of sinking down vs. rising back up above the water surface...the fact that Camila jumped in to bring him back up, his friends helped to pull him out, and Flapjack passes new life to him...this is also some crazy powerful symbolism for surviving complex trauma.

Falling back on a support network, your "tribe", that won't abandon you.

My other Hunter analyses (link) go into more detail about his support network and why he needs it.

I was talking to a friend about all this: she has relevant lived experience and mentioned that poor Hunter would reach a milestone birthday and perhaps cry at least a bit on that day, maybe even during the birthday party: out of sheer confusion. The confusion would be silently screaming "But...this doesn't...make sense?". And he might feel confusing waves of darker emotions along with a strange sense of joy.

He may make a decision to start a family with Willow, and a confused questioning voice will bother him now and then with "How are you still here, doing this and living to see this?".

(...also, when is his birthday...? Is it documented in some Emperor's Coven records that they will find..? Even the mere concept of having a birthday is messed up for him to think about, given the purpose behind his creation)

Complex trauma changes its survivors' relationships with the world, not just with people, and this can even apply to their relationships with things like joy and how joy is experienced.

Flapjack's absence would have bred survivor's guilt. It might translate into Hunter questioning whether he is worth the love and effort his friends put in for him. This feeling could emerge at random moments over the years in his life.

Visually, I feel that these two frames - the lighting (which I'd say is unique among all his scenes because they are parts of his arc that stand out so much), his pose, his expression - somehow capture the experience of how complex trauma is chronic and long-term:

The currently most known C-PTSD memoir out there, What My Bones Know by journalist Stephanie Foo, has some content that I feel matches nicely with what Hunter is experiencing in the two separate scenes above.

The author describes something she calls "the dread" (if you get the book, it's first mentioned on page 51). I would call it the amalgamation of multiple things such as shame, the fear of impending harm, self-doubt where you question whether you did something wrong, fearing that someone hates you, etc.

And basically, good lord my poor boy in the first screenshot..with that expression of suspecting what he thought was Belos's presence in the room: something about it fits the book author's words, feeling like she was "on the precipice of fucking everything up".

That's certainly something that would cross Hunter's mind multiple times as he processes the worst night of his life. That he could have done something to prevent all that.

With so much pre-existing worry that his friends and family might actually hate him, the possession scenes and Flapjack's death would definitely shake his foundation and I'm sure he isn't past this kind of ingrained thought pattern at all:

Second, the book author calls C-PTSD a shapeshifting "beast" (page 316). And when she fights it, she must use a different strategy depending on what form it takes, and that it will keep coming back from time to time in another form. Which is why there is a particular exhaustion one feels from having to adapt to each battle.

For Hunter, the second screencap of him fighting Belos's coercion in a direct physical manner is the first of many battles he has to win in his mind, even after Belos is gone for good. Outlasting whatever invisible assailant is trying to get him, as he faces inevitable episodes of being retraumatized in the future: these are called emotional flashbacks (one of the symptoms of C-PTSD).

Being a survivor of complex trauma who experiences a weird sense of time via a foreshortened-future view, can feel like being on the outside looking in.

But! To end this meta on a hopeful note, I should reiterate something from my most recent long meta about Retraumatization vs. Self-Soothing, the first part of Hunter's important speech in Thanks to Them touches on wild magic and palisman. Wild magic represents freedom, while palismen (quoting the Bat Queen) represent close bonds in relationships, emotion, and conviction.

Applying this to how we can navigate the swampy waters of a foreshortened-future view, Hunter can use his newfound freedom and sense of agency to create the story he'd like to tell about his life. It is pretty much impossible to avoid bringing beliefs from our young formative years into adulthood. But expectations (which have a direct link with emotions we end up feeling) of ourselves and of life can be altered over time, so they become less rigid and instead more open to new possibilities.

He has an inquisitive mind which is a big plus point in understanding the impact of what he has been through, and I have full faith that he'll do just fine in that regard because of the courage we have seen in him.

Among the hobbies he explores in the future, flyer derby will be one example of an excellent outlet for him because of its physicality: trauma and grief are not only emotional battlegrounds but also highly physical ones. The body is also very much involved e.g. feeling the lead-like weight of depressive moods in one's body, feeling the physical tension of hypervigilance, etc.

It's fantastic that he has Luz, Willow, Gus and company, he will have a very meaningful career, and he'll have everyone else in his large found family.

His story...his heart...his resilience and vitality...it's all truly inspirational.

We might learn even more about the grimwalkers in the finale and that would undoubtedly prompt me to do a shorter Part 2 on top of this meta.

#toh analysis #toh hunter #grimwalkers #the owl house #loz writes a meta #huntlow

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berberriescorner · 8 months

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"Through It All"

Characters: Rio x Black!Reader.

Summary: There aren’t many things that put Rio on edge. Most people see a calm, cool, and collected individual. Keeping a level head is his specialty. What happens when the person he loves most needs him to be strong for both of them? Get a glimpse of what it’s like seeing him hold someone down through thick and thin, in sickness and health. If you know, you know.

**PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS AND AUTHOR’S NOTE**

Warnings: Angst…like seriously. You’ll understand once you read the author’s note. This fic contains sweet, soft, fluffy Rio. The fic includes some of my crazy humor with a smidge of the character’s inner thoughts. If reading about gynecological procedures makes you uncomfortable, this may not be a fic for you. It doesn’t go into great detail, but it is mentioned and sheds a bit of light. If mentions of the ins and outs of fertility is a soft spot, please read with caution. It isn’t my intention to bring anyone down, but this story is based on parts of my own experiences. Again, the note will explain more.

Author/Personal Note: Okay. Where to start? So, as some of you may know throughout the past two years I’ve been getting cycles of iron infusions. This year, after making several complaints and an ER visit or two. I had an ultrasound performed, which led to me getting surgery months later (the procedure I had done recently). I’ve been spending my days at home recovering, and it’s given me time to reflect. Damn, it’s been a rough couple of years, but I’m so thankful through it all. It’s difficult having a plethora of health issues. This situation put so much added stress on top of it all. As a woman, hearing you have a fibroid. Learning it’s best to get it removed to protect your fertility is scary as hell. You get it done, get sent home, and though you have loved ones taking amazing care of you. It’s still a difficult, challenging process. At times, it’s lonely. No one but you can fully wrap your head around the emotions and feelings the body is going through. It’s pretty wild.

Anywho, sorry y’all. Let me stop rambling and get to the point. We all know how overactive my imagination is. Being stuck in bed, my mind has been wandering. I thought to myself why not take this experience and channel it into a fic. I’m hoping that this will also be a comforting story to anyone who’s been through the same experience. Here is a look at how I envision Rio taking in the experience with his lady. I plan to write at least two more parts for this. Happy reading my lovelies! I wrote this on a whim, in celebration of my birthday, so ignore the grammatical errors my loves. I may come back and do some more editing. Depends on how I’m feeling.

Word Count: 1,800+.

Inspired By💜:

Random fun fact: Toni Braxton and I have the same birthday😆. Happy Birthday, Queen💓.

Everything was still as a deafening silence fell across the room. It was as if each occupant was afraid to utter a single word. Your mother pretended to distract herself with a Kindle book as your father paced the floor quietly. They’d share a glance each time they checked their watch, smiling at one another in comfort and reassurance.

Then, together, they directed their attention toward the chair in the far right corner. It was tucked in a tight corner next to a window, giving little relief and comfort to your husband, Rio. He, too was anxious, but no one would ever know it. He was always able to still his facial features. Never one to give his emotions away. The only person who could read him wasn’t in the room. You were on the other side of the building and the reason for your families’ nervousness. No longer able to stand the constant glances and silence, Rio stood from his seat. He released a breath, rubbing his palms against his jeans. Turning to your parents, he stated, “I’m going to grab a quick cup of coffee from the cafeteria. Would you two like something?”

Your mother, a gentle, nurturing soul, responded for both of them.

“No, baby. We’re fine. Don’t worry. I’ll come find you if we receive news.”

Rio ducked away in a vacant spot in the cafeteria, hands folded over top of the steam of the coffee. He searched for peace and solace until a jolting vibration exploded in his jacket pocket. Fumbling for the phone, he answered without looking.

“What they say ma-. Oh, my bad. Wassup? Everything good?” Rio listened patiently before snapping. “You know this is something you could’ve handled yourself, right? I don’t have time for the three stooges bullshit today.”

He instantly felt a slight pang of guilt. Rio realized that the stress and worry of his current situation were influencing his mood. Taking a deep breath, he relaxed. Inhaling, he continued, “My bad bro. She’s been in for three hours, and it’s got me tweaking. Nobody’s giving us any damn answers. It’s a non-invasive procedure, but it’s still considered major surgery. I just need to hear she’s good.”

“It’s all good, boss. I know you’re worried about wifey. She’s a strong woman. Boss lady’s going to be alright. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of everything. Call me as soon as you know something,” Mick responded.

“You're right. Thank you for holdin’ shit down.”

He laid his phone on the table, burying his face in his hands. The last few moments he spent with you were on repeat in his mind. Rio returned to the present, hearing the chair opposite him slide backward. His eyes connected with your father’s, and he readied himself for wherever the conversation would go.

It was no secret that the two hadn’t always seen eye to eye. The two men sat for several minutes before your father started speaking.

“I’ll be honest with you, man. You’re not at all what I envisioned for my daughter.”

“You seriously want to have this conversation right now?”

“Now wait, son. Let me finish.”

Hold up. It’s son now? Where is this going? It didn’t even sound disrespectful. It doesn’t sound like he’s trying to play me on some sucka shit. I’ll hear him out.

Rio nodded his head, giving your father the floor.

“I may not know all you do for a living, son, but I know you’ve managed to make a comfortable and safe life for my baby girl. When it comes down to it, that’s what I’ve always wanted for her. It took me some time to come to terms with it, but I know, without a doubt, that you’re doing everything in your power to make her feel protected and loved. Let me just say what I’m getting at,” he chuckled. “You’re good at hiding it, son, but I know you’re worried. Hell, so are we, but that’s alright.”

Rio’s head dropped, shoulders slumping. He took the opportunity to be vulnerable finally. Your father’s acceptance allowed him the space to do so. He felt a comforting grip land on his shoulder. Your father finished, “Baby girl is going to be alright, son. With all your love and support, she’ll be back on her feet soon. Now, you take a few more moments to yourself. Don’t be surprised when her momma wraps you up in a big hug when you head back. She’s worried about her favorite son-in-law.”

Rio chuckled, “I’m her only son-in-law, sir.”

“Even better. You ain’t gotta share. That sweet woman sure knows how to smother people in love.”

“You’re daughter is the same way. It’s one of the many things I love about her.”

“Which is why you understand my reasons for being so guarded. That’s my baby girl. Enough with that ‘sir’ shit too. Call me pops. My son may not like that, but I get a kick out of irritating him anyway. He’s overprotective of his sister.”

“Y’all gon’ try to take me out if I ever mess up, huh?”

“What I look like snitching on myself? Let’s not ever get to that bridge, son.”

The two men shared a laugh, but everything turned serious when they saw your mom power walking towards them. Rio's heart began thudding in his chest.

“Ma, what’s wrong? Did-.”

“Relax, sugar,” she cooed, rubbing a hand against both men’s arms. “The nurse said the doctor should be ready to talk to us in about fifteen minutes. Let’s head back to the waiting room.”

Fifteen minutes came and went. Your mother couldn’t help but crack a smile at both men. They both started fussing about how long the surgeon was taking. She felt sorry for the man once he approached them. The doctor, attempting to apologize, was cut off by an impatient Rio.

“You good, doc. We understand these things take time, but excuse us for being anxious. We were under the impression this would be about an hour-long procedure. How’s my wife?”

The surgeon explained himself. “That’s what we anticipated, but the process took longer. Your wife’s last ultrasound a few months back showed a fibroid the size of a plum. Sadly, it grew to the size of an orange, which would explain why things grew more difficult during her last few cycles. However, you’ll be happy to know that we managed to do it laparoscopically, and everything looks great. She’s being taken to recovery now, but we’ve decided to keep her overnight.”

All three of your family members asked, “Why is that,” in unison.

“We just want to keep an eye on her for the next twenty-four hours. Given gas was used to see things more clearly, we’d like to monitor her. We’ll need to see that she gets up and walks to get things flowing. I just want to be sure she gets it moving out of her system. Also, since she’s anemic, we just want to be extra careful. I promise everything went well, and she should be ready to go in the morning.”

Each family member felt at ease. The trio waited for an invitation to your recovery room. Though he wanted to be the first person you saw when you woke up, Rio encouraged your parents to go first. The two visitors' only rule irritated them all.

Your eyes fluttered open, and your parents laughed at the slurred responses given to your nurse. Your parents took turns kissing your forehead, expressing encouraging words. Your father, now at ease, left the room in search of Rio.

“You might want to hurry back there. She’s still a bit loopy. Baby girl has been asking the nurse, where my husband? You got my baby acting ratchet in this hospital,” he joked.

“Aye, she was like that when I met her,” he laughed, walking towards recovery.

Rio slid behind the curtain, laying eyes on the most precious sight. You were in bed, laid back, eyes closed, singing off-key as your mother held your hand, laughing. The nurse stepped beside him, giving a small giggle.

“She’s been looking for you. Ma’am, the man of the hour is here.”

Your eyes popped open as you halted the song. “My husbannnd! Hey baeee,” you winced, given the pain and having a hoarse voice.

“Mama, you back here wildin’ ain’t you? How’s our little patient doing, ma,” he directed toward your mom.

“Crazy as ever. This girl opened her eyes, looked at me, and called herself whispering. Loud as ever, she asked me if she still had a uterus. Her daddy would’ve turned red if he were capable.”

They both shared a laugh as you did your best to shrug shoulders. Wanting to give you two privacy, your mom went to sit in the waiting room. Rio turned to you, holding your hand. His lips brushed across your knuckles, and he shivered at how cold they were. Wrapping his hand around yours, he tried warming the digits.

“My momma ain’t answer my question though,” you mumbled, eyes closed.

Rio smiled, “What’s that now, mama?”

“My uterus. Sis still in there, right?”

“Yes, darlin’. What makes you think it’s not?”

“I signed them papers, man. In the event of a ‘mergency, they were going to take shawty,” you sassed, words still slurring.

Rio did his best to hold back a cackle. Clearing his throat, he replied, “Mama, you straight. Everything went according to plan. There was no emergency. The fibroid is out. It was bigger than expected. That’s why it feels like you were out for a while.”

“Aight bet. So when we making babies,” you asked, wincing again.

“First off, sit still, mama. Your body is pretty sore right now.”

“Baby, I’m drugged up! I don’t feel nothin’.”

“Second. You’ll be recovering for four to six weeks. You’re not going to be in any type of mood for all that. I believe the surgeon said no sex for two to three weeks. No babies for at least six months, darlin’. They just sliced your uterus open and stitched it back together, mama,” he explained, running his thumb across your lip.

He laughed at the pout etched on your face. Rio caressed the side of your face, kissing you gently. “On some real shit. I was worried out my mind over you, mama. I’m so glad you’re good. You’re my world. The clock kept ticking, and I was about to lose it.”

Your eyes connected with his, “I’m right here, papa. I’m good. We gonna be good. No matter what,” you whispered. Even through the drugs and drowsiness, you could feel his angst. Rio could read between the lines. He knew what you were trying to communicate. It had been on both your minds heavily. Your eyes connected with his. Rio saw the unshed tears you were holding back, and he swallowed hard, nodding his head in agreement. No matter where this path led, Rio knew, in his heart, that he loved you with everything in him.

Baby or not, we’ll still feel fulfilled and happy. My life’s purpose is to love and give you the world.

This piece was both personal and therapeutic for me to write. I truly hope you all enjoyed it. Please be sure to comment and reblog, it's appreciated. Now I'm about to go eat some birthday cake and read some amazing fan fiction😆.

Divider credit💜 : @firefly-graphics

tagging💜 : @4everbrookemarie @darqchilddaydreamz @astoldbychae @sunshine-flower

@nightlywords7 @starrynite7114 @amorestevens @fineanddandy

@rio-reid-whoreee @that-one-anxious-mango @novaniskye

@alertyoulikeitsamber @1andonlytashae @lovedlover @blkbutterfly816 @banana123pudding

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zvezdacito · 1 year

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// TWST Book 7 spoilers, thoughts of Malleus's writing as a character

So I was reading some other people's opinions on why some people consider Malleus overrated/annoying, and tbh this makes me really sad. The general consensus is that a lot of people fixate on certain sides and can only see him as one extreme or the other and it results in many ppl thinking a watered down version of his character is how he is in canon.

I feel that its such a shame because he's the most interesting, compelling and well-rounded take on his character archetype I've seen.

From my observation, usually they kinda make this archetype (the broody misunderstood 'everyone fears him like a monster except for one special person') someone you can't take that seriously, because of how his struggle usually kind of written in a way where everyone involved feel less like actual fully fledged original characters and really just one note tropes interacting with other one note tropes.

To elaborate: What i mean when i say this is usually ppl who hate him kind of just do because of plot requires them to and to show how all their haters are "normies" who can't get him because 'he's not like everyone else'. The misunderstood guy still usually has toxic personality issues but the story really tends to make it feel like they don't fear him for that but because they're shallow and have prejudice to ppl like him, so his personality issues are not framed as wrong or character flaws.

I don't think there's anything inherenrly wrong or mediocre with the "one special person who gives him a chance before anyone else" trope like I'm literally a Malleyuu enjoyer lol but like i said its all in the execution cause otherwise it fails to be compelling and believable. Usually in the poorly written version of this trope the guy doesn't undergo any character development other than showing more emotion and kindess to his partner because they melted his ice I guess so it really makes his whole character feel like its revolves around the sake of romance and fanservice.

Malleus doesn't fall into this trap in my opinion because his situation despite how fantastical it is, the way he was written makes it believable as to why everything is the way it is with him, and it also challenges the viewer if they would be able to say they wouldn't fear him too in that situation.

"We're gonna give you this character who everyone sees as a monster and show you deep down he just wants the same love as everyone else, making you contemplate changing judgement on him. He wants to prove this, but his way of going about it always inadvertently harms others."

"You know where hes coming from and if he had that social connection to give him a better understanding of others this wouldn't be happening, but its also equally understandable that the people hes trying to connect with don't deserve this and fear him even more after this, trapping him in a cycle of isolation."

"Given his track record, do you go about giving him a chance or just considering the repeatedly proven danger he brings. With the valid reasons of both parties, can you really say he isn't a monster and demand that 'if only people be near him'?"

There's just such a tragic and thought-provoking dilemma to his character that adds so many layers that makes him so good.

As omniscient viewers we have the benefit of seeing what he's going through form his POV so we can sympathize with him and understand that he thinks what he's doing is the best course of action and he's just trying to create a "win for everyone" situation.

But also everything he does ironically reaffirms everyone's fear and distrust of someone like him. No one can deny he has a tendency to cause further destruction when he tries to do something "good", examples including: past Briar Valley lantern lighting fire, the Halloween 2 ghost world party, and now his Sleeping Curse stunt in Book 7 Part 2 (they really emphasize this by making the spoken name of his UM basically mean "Malicious Fairy" but have its written name used to convey what its meant to mean be "Blessing").

↑ Given this, it honestly makes sense others, especially those who don't know him all that well, would just expect the worst when he's around already, and you wouldn't be able to blame them for that given the track record. It doesn't help that this impression is worsened since he tends to cause misunderstandings due to his lack of familiarity with human social cues.

Alongside the bias and preconceived notions from his status and reputation, they also make a point on how his personality flaws are still also a huge factor in pushing people away, such as not being able to see things through the perspective of others.

He also holds a subconcious belief due to what has been ingrained in him since childhood as a Draconia and the next in line that because he's superior to others at certain things, he has the right and responsibility to decide on what will protect and help them, disregarding the individual values/priorities of human beings and leading him to take reckless and destructive action with good intentions.

His upbringing, character strengths and character flaws are all realistically connected to each other and the way they are subtly shown to be ever-present in defining his decisions, goals and thoughts throughout the whole story. So we don't really need to have a character go out of their way to exposition this to us this word for word just so we can understand and believe it.

Moving onto something slightly more lighthearted, I really also like how dorky Malleus surprisingly was. Other similar characters in the archetype I usually see don't really have any hobbies, interests, or quirks outside of being a broody authority figure, which might've been appealing to some at first but it really just gets stale and boring after a while.

This should be the bare minimum in making a fleshed out and interesting character so maybe i sound like im giving them too much credit for pointing it out😭 But yeah compared to the other examples it's good that Malleus has his Tamagotchi and Gargoyle interests it makes him feel like a believable person who has his own life going on too (with the bonus that these interests are also metaphors for aspects of his character). The gap moe adds an endearing side to him, and makes the gap between his intent and impact of his actions even more tragic. It wouldn't hit the same without this side.

(^ Forgot how the exact quote goes, but it basically said dark stories are more effective when there are moments of genuine happiness and good in them, compared to if it was always just grim and edgy. The former increases the stakes and tragedy because you have something you to care about losing, while for the latter there is nothing for you to care about so nothing the story does really matters. Same logic applies to Malleus)

Overall, it's just like an unfortunate incompatibility of goals and circumstances, which is what TWST is all about. Another thing I want to say is out of all the characters, I feel like Malleus is the one who is the ultimate embodiment of TWST's main themes:

-> How it's not about "hero" vs "villain" just differing circumstances crossing paths and clashing because of how people on either side have their own complex perspective and dreams they want to realize

-> And how connection and finding community is important to find people who will help you make up for what you lack in reaching your goals and to better understand all the factors that caused the situation in the first place.

As if seeing yourself reflected in a mirror, the more you get to know the people around you, you realize in many ways you are actually quite alike, and through understanding others you could also possibly better understand certain aspects of yourself. It's sort of encouraging you to do the opposite of dehumanizing others and yourself, which is something Malleus has most evidently internalized.

So yeah this was so long😭 I had a lot I wanted to say since Malleus is my favorite TWST character. Idk if I missed anything or if i managed to express my thoughts in a cohesive way but yeah. I kinda go into a rage whenever I see the worst takes ever be put out about his character but tbh sometimes I can't completely blame others since fandom trends and the convenience of simplifying things into tropes can warp your perception of a character and what you associate with them.

Also sometimes twst doesn't do a good job with utilizing his character like Book 5 where he got turned into a deus ex machina and Halloween 2 where they killed any hype and intrigue for the plot we had at the beginning through the ending reveal and gave the worst justification ever for Malleus and Lilia's actions ever.

Regardless, I hope more people manage to move past this and appreciate his character for what it really is soon though. He's an amazingly tragic character; a lot of thought was put into how his experiences, strengths and weaknesses would convincingly connect, and he represents something relevant in the story's plot and themes.

The fact that I've seen some people unironically believe that Malleus may just be faking his cluelessness of social cues to hide his "true evil" is evidence to how convincing his character's situation is, that even some in the audience who know more about him than the characters would still end up in the same place of doubt and distrust of Malleus because of what he's capable of.

Aight thank you for reading👍

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst book 7 spoilers #malleus draconia #twst writing analysis ?#diasomnia #i am his number 1 defender #ignore me just putting random photos in between text i tried separating chunks of text to make it more readable lol #twst character analysis ?

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somewhereinneptune · 1 year

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ASTROLOGY OBSERVATIONS

Heeey! It's been agesss and I haven't done something in a while. I thought it's about time I give astrology observations a try since I've been into astrology for years yet I never posted about it or about what I've gathered so there goes!

Disclaimer: these are simply personal observations.They're things I observed around me from people and their charts to things regarding my own charts and self that I've analyzed so it may not resonate. With that put aside, hope you enjoy!

🎐If someone's sun falls in your 4th house, this can cause a lot of triggers since the 4th house is the house of roots, childhood and family so wounds in regards to these themes could resurface. These people might feel close like family too or like home, yet trigger many suppressed issues within . Ex : My mom and I have our sun signs in each other's 4th house and we have this up and down relationship where we sometimes feel so close and like we understand each other deeply, yet we get triggered by each other through the simplest of interactions and disagreements

🎐Neptune in 7th natal or transit as well as in the solar return chart can bring out themes such as rose -colored glasses in relationships and close connections, lacking boundaries or having a hard time understanding the concept of boundaries. Neptune in 5th might deal with similar themes too but with emphasis on Romantic connections

🎐 I'll need to clarify with more people but there's something about Scorpio risings and being left handed 😐 I'm a Scorpio rising and left handed myself as well as my dad and two more people and I don't know the connection behind it yet

🎐Chiron in 12th and the blur over pain : D this might manifest into the individual feeling triggered by things without being able to sense the root of the reason and it's because the 12th house blurs everything from the conscious eye . Its like this metaphorical apparition that keeps following you without making itself clear. Another reason could be that the trauma comes not from this lifetime but a past one. Many deep wounds I had to heal from in my healing journey turned out to root from previous life times

🎐 If someone's natal Saturn is at 0 , it either means they have reset karma by breaking a major karmic cycle in their recent past life or that this is their first incarnation on earth

🎐Another clue in my opinion for if this is someone's first or one of the first incarnations on earth is if their chart has an emphasis on the deeper and spiritual aspect . Ex : North Node in Ninth, Sagittarius placements and degrees, Saturn in Ninth, Sun at 0° degree, Saturn at 0° and the reason for that is that it signifies a soul that is just starting to learn and experience their way through life

On the contrary, Sun and Saturn at 29° might signify the ending of a long karmic cycle as well as maturity and having gone through several trials and lessons in life / past lives

🎐 One of the themes of Chiron in Scorpio can be fear of lies and dishonesty, fear of being manipulated and of hidden truth since Scorpio rules mystery and the hidden, and as Chiron rules wounds and trauma, the native usually does go through themes of lies and manipulation in their life

🎐 I've read before that having an empty house can mean you've mastered this house and that you can access it easily, yet I've noticed its usually the house or themes we tend to overlook, be unaware of or even bury or take for granted due to the focus being solely on the houses with the most placements and aspects

🎐Leo MC and Aquarius IC and the paradox between desiring to be seen and out there and getting triggered when you're under the spot light or seen in any way. The contrast between desiring attention as well as social groups vs needing so much space and alone time or to 'hide'

🎐Saturn in Aquarius natal could make someone prone to people - pleasing tendencies; since their karmic lesson is to learn to exist unapologetically and daringly in the world, the native would be prone to fear of existing authentically first or having a presence which would lead to trying to fit in with what the crowd wants to see regardless of whether it feels good to them or not

🎐personally, for those into spirituality : An indication of a spiritual awakening in a solar return chart could indicate Pisces and\ or Scorpio rising, Chiron in first, Pluto in 7th or 11th, as well as placements in the 8th and 12th like sun and north node in 12th or Uranus in 8th

🎐 to add to the previous note, sun in 8th transit and solar return is such an ego death placement. You're forced to face shadow aspects within you that you might have resisted or turned a blind eye to for some time

#astrology observations #astrology #astrology notes #astrological posts #Scorpio #chiron #Neptune #aquarius #12th house #incarnation #Saturn #karma #Leo #Sagittarius #uranus #somewhereinneptune

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