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#it grew back in the nowhere
reporpoisedphantasies · 3 months
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Noone my pretty. I gift you her presence (+ doodles)
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angel-bubbles · 1 year
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been thinking many many thoughts about david in a cowboy hat
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allthegothihopgirls · 4 months
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'going to georgia' by the mountain goats but it's about lee everett during twdg s1
#.#i don't have the energy to explain myself on this one#i have a lot of complex thoughts about this that i dont think i can fully articulate rn#twdg#lee everett#oh actually im going to elaborate on one part of this because i might forget#the whole 'crossing the macon county line' repeating part of the song#lee grew up in macon#and i like the emphasis in the song of not just travelling to georgia#but having to go through macon to be there#(having to get over a hurdle to get somewhere)#and to lee the first time they go to macon after the apocalypse begins. thats still his home.#but by the time he leaves and they're back on their way to their final destination#hes gotten closure. and knows that place itsnt him anymore#but yeah theres that one part in the song where it replaces the macon line#with “this is nowhere. going to georgia”. which would be him letting go of macon. and all of his past. focusing on his current self + goal#and with all the verses and everything#i like to think that clementine. whilst softening him up as person#also makes lee unbind himself from his past. most of which he stores in macon#because of not only growing up there#but also feeling the guilt of showing up there again after his conviction#because that was the only place he could still call home#and knowing every good memory he had left was tainted with that one mistake. because all he had nothing else but his home#so yeah. after the apocalypse. before he got the closure in macon#that was the one place he had unfinished business. and its what was holding him back#so being able to say#he's simply 'crossing the macon county line' in the end. not even regarding it as nowhere. regarding it for what it was.#is monumental#even more#its not acknowledging that macon is a place of negative significance for him
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lonesomedotmp3 · 5 months
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the utter lack of affection or care amongst my extended family is so bleak and miserable
#like I don't get on or chat with fucking any of my english cousins. the few I did#get on well with disappeared from my life out of nowhere because of family drama#the ones left are older than me and they never cared about me lol#and they're all boys which I don't think helped things when we were younger#but that shouldn't matter. I get on with my spanish male cousin fine ! he's lovely!#but the people I'm with every winter and birthday etc are just completely cold and detached#I have no real relationship with any of my uncles or aunts or cousins#it's not like there's even one I can go and talk to while everyone else is ignoring me lol#I've got my brother and that's it and of course he's just a little kid#he's either trying to get attention from the adults or trying to get me to play with him#which is fine. but. ugh.#it's just like I should've had this big network of people who cared about me statistically I should've had at least one family#member who I had some kind of unique or close bond with and I never did I never got it#I grew up with two sisters and I never got it. I think about what it could be like with sisters who gave a shit about me all the time#If I had someone to talk to besides my parents or about my parents it would be such a weight off my back#and all I've got it my brother and he's just too young for me to put any of my life on his shoulders#my biggest fear is that when he hits puberty he'll begin to think I'm embarrassing and stupid and not like me anymore#and then I'll really have nothing
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pollyna · 1 year
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Nobody really ever let Mav drive because, even after 20 and plus years of having his drive licence, he's still shit. Not like I just started to drive shit, but I get bored after the first five minutes. Why does this thing go so slowly? kinda of shit. But the day has been long, and Mav is the least tired of the four, with Amelia and Penny sleeping in the backseats and Rooster barely keeping his eyes open. A day by the sea always has this effect on you, eh kid? He asks, ruffling his hair, and receives an uhuh as an answer. C'mon twenty minutes tops, and we'll be home, he murmurs a little to himself and a little to everybody else.
Twenty minutes later, Mav parks in front of his home, and he already has a foot on the concrete when a hand stops him. Mav? Where are we? Penny asks, and Pete smiles, she has to be still sleeping if she doesn't realise they are home. Home! he answers, already thinking about if he should take Amelia or let Bradley do the job because his back kinda hurts now an-
Dad Bradley calls his attention back to him Dad, we aren't there yet. This isn't Penny's home. He continues, his voice soft and his eyes a little wet.
I- he tries to say something, but the house in front of him speaks louder than any words. Yes, yes, I'm sorry. Just tired. We will be there in a minute, Pen'.
No problem, Pete, it happens sometimes she answers, a soft smile on her face and Bradley's hands still around his arm.
He smiles at her and at Bradley, starting the car again, trying his hardest not to look in the rearview mirror while the place he still calls home gets farther and farther away.
(Thirty-two, blonde hair tips, and I think this is the last one, Mav he said. Now I can officially say, welcome home, love he added, picking him up in the middle of an empty living room with just a couch and a coffee table to occupy the space. Welcome home, my dear, he rebuffed, laughing and spinning around, kissing the man he was soon to marry.) 
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lcerys · 1 month
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for all that i joke with the ' luke uses the dragons & brings up the name targaryen when he argues for his and his brother's legitimacy when it's him being a velaryon that is in question ' ― he's not taking that out of nowhere. it was a discussion when the eggs were put at their cradles. people did discuss how they wouldn't hatch due to how they looked, and due to the possibility of them being bastards. and when vermax, arrax & tyraxes were born, there were people who genuinely took that as a sign they weren't illegitimate ― even though their connection to house targaryen is through their mother, not their father, and he was the one in question. even though it is targaryens who are dragonriders, and their connection to that family remains regardless of all, due to rhaenyra. and luke echoes the idea of their dragons giving them legitimacy, over a decade later, because that's what it was, for them, even though it had nothing to do with it.
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stonersolana · 15 days
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it's so fun when the people who took everything from you claim to be the real victims. like, y'all want to dump a years-long friendship in a dumpster fire just cause you're in a romantic relationship and that's the only thing that matters to you, go fucking ahead. but don't pretend to be the victim when you were the one who destroyed it.
you don't get to take literally everything from me and claim that you were the real victim when the only thing you didn't take was the skin off my bones.
#sunbun speaks#i keep having nightmares/memories of the 3-ish people who literally left me with nothing but the clothes on my back#and kept asking for more because it wasn't enough#or the fact that every single one of them basically turned into whoever their partner wanted them to be and would ditch their own parents#if their partner told them they didn't like them anymore#using me as a scapegoat whenever they had negative feelings and accuse me of being the source instead of a voice of reason#or just straight up getting pissed at me when i wasn't going to play their toxic game#and by the end of it all i had nothing: no clothes or any of my stuff no money nowhere to go and no friends#they destroyed my life while i was barely a blip in theirs#people who grew up with wealthy parents are fucking pricks#because yeah that's another thing they all had in common other than being codependent af: they all grew up with upper-middle class parents#they just took and took and took and tossed me aside#cause btw it's really hard to get back a lifetimes worth of stuff in only a few years with no money#i still remember everything they took from me and not just material possessions#and in the end they wanted me to apologize to them for being inadequate in filling my role as emotional punching bag#only for none of them to feel any remorse and get mad at me for implying they did anything that i didn't deserve#even looking at my life now i only have my partner and my kids#as much as i try i can't fix the fact that I'm autistic which means i will always struggle with human interaction#so it's not like it's easy to make friends#especially not friends who don't religiously devote themselves at the alter of toxic monogamy and view anyone else as 'extra' and disposable#in a matter of three years those three people took everything from me and despite it being 6 years later i am STILL recovering what i lost#how can you destroy someone's life who never did anything to you and still consider yourself the victim
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ngl i kind of miss the era of fics after hunting palismen but before season 1b where hunter slowly befriends luz’s friends and family under the guise of studying wild magic/espionage/whatever they were setting up with hunter spying on luz in season 2a that they didn’t have time to pay off in the show. and he finds a loving mother figure in eda and gradually realizes that belos and the emperor’s coven are bad before bravely standing up to his abuser and permanently moving into the owl house to be luz and king’s grumpy older brother.
i know his arc in canon didn’t go like that and tbh despite having more episodes to interact with him than darius or camilla eda ended up being like. the least parental towards him out of the three. but i really like that fic concept? not very action-y so i get why they played his arc out this way in the show but hunter’s heel turn in the show didnt. really feel like it was in his control? he has doubts about helping belos in every episode he appears in bc he was growing to care about luz and her friends. and ofc he finds out that belos is evil in hollow mind and ends his redemption arc by choosing to help hexside fight off the scouts.
but he was forced into all the realizations about belos by outside factors. he leaves the emperor coven not because he made an informed decision about how it was bad but because he knows belos would kill him if he didn’t leave the coven. and then when he helped the students at hexside it was because the teachers were about to trade him for gus if he couldn’t prove that he was trustworthy. i guess in the human realm he does get to learn what counts as a normal childhood and loving family, but that ties more into his post-redemption arc about found family rather than this being what makes him realize that belos was evil.
(this is also why i like to compare hunter to peridot from steven universe rather than zuko. i know on a surface level hunter and zuko are both angsty boys with a scar and an abusive father figure. but zuko had a journey bonding with civilians and the gaang where he learned why exactly the fire nation was wrong. and his decision to leave the fire nation, after zuko got back all his privilege and his fathers favor, was meaningful because it showed he was willing to give all that up to do what was right. meanwhile hunter, like peridot, had nothing left to lose by the time they join the protagonists. they fought against the villains because they were trapped with the protagonists and would die if they didn’t. i’d say even peridot had more agency in her redemption arc than hunter because she was given a chance to go back to homeworld but instead chose to save earth anyway and tell off yellow diamond.)
every confrontation between hunter and the villains during and after hollow mind was forced on him. in his earlier episodes, hunter did some small betrayals towards the coven to help luz and willow. but during the final part of his redemption (hollow mind & labyrinth runners, where he fully does a heel turn towards the protagonists’ side), saving gus from getting his sigil was the only major action he chose to do. in every other instance, his options were either help the protagonists or be killed.
this isn’t a bad thing. i like hunter’s character arc. it’s definitely more about coming to terms with one’s trauma than about anything bad hunter actually did. so they kind of brush aside his redemption arc once it’s over and the major focus is on what comes after. which i think is how toh does most of its redemption arcs? like with lilith or to a lesser extent amity. hell even mattholomule. once the character realize they’re wrong they get on the protagonist’s side and there isn’t much lingering tension about the harm they did. because once they’ve dedicated themselves to helping the protagonists, there isn’t much more they can do to make up for the past harm and toh definitely isn’t trying to preach anything about punitive justice.
so for hunter he realizes belos is evil and going to kill him in hollow mind and decides to help luz’s friends stop him in labyrinth runners. and after that he permanently joins the gang and helps fight belos and the rest of his arc is about finding himself after his redemption. which with how they wrote his backstory and arc so far i am more interested in this than seeing him haggle with the moral quandaries of working with belos and slowly realizing that he wants to be a Good Boy.
but man. those season 2a fics are so good. they’re like an au where hunter’s redmption arc is more like zuko’s than peridots and they give him a LOT more agency. in those fics he might get forced to stay with the owl family at first out of plot contrivance, but by the end he chooses his new family. and he chooses luz and eda and the rest of their friends and family over every privilege he had in the emperor coven, and over belos. and even though it might be a bit cliche, i still think that idea is really powerful.
#toh#the owl house#hunter toh#hunter noceda#hunter clawthorne#the way his arc plays out in those fics and the way his actual arc went are subtlely different#but that difference is significant to me#its taking responsibility for your crimes as a pawn of a dictator and finding that the people who actually love you will still forgive you#its looking at luz and her family of criminals who genuinely love and support each other#and looking at the emperor coven and all its prestige but with the underside of impossible pressure#and occasional praise and manipulation from an uncle that SHOULD love you but only uses that love to hurt you and get you to obey him#and realizing that no. you deserve to be treated better than that#that a humble life spent running from authorities with a family of genuine love#is leagues better than the power and glory from perpetuating a cycle of abuse#its hunter coming to terms that the environment he grew up in was horrible to him and continuing living there with that knowledge#before deciding that hes ready to leave belos. that he has a support system outside of the coven who wont treat him like this#as opposed to having the worst night of your life as you realize everything you know is a lie#and being forced from the only home you ever knew through no fault of your own with no support system you trust#and only after you have nowhere to go and nothing left do you start building everything back up again#and either way hunter realizes there is a light at the end of the tunnel#i think the second arc does have more of a place in the show but man i love to see that first arc explored in fics#maybe in a full season 3 they would have combined both ideas and they definitely planned to have hunter spend time with the owl family#but well never know#shut up pandora
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spideygal · 4 months
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Thinking about the disturbing implications of Cain's story and destiny from the Bible rn
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#cw religion#no because like. cain didn't come out of the womb throwing rocks; how did he even think that it was healthy to stone his brother? it leads#me to believe that potentially; he either saw the angel war going on in the sky and thought that those who stayed in heaven and were treated#well; even with the violence that happened (from what he had seen and potentially heard); were. well how to say it. their actions were#normal. god created everything; and can think anything as normal. or he saw his parents fighting. i refuse to believe that adam and eve were#one of those healthy couples; even after the biting of the apple and getting kicked out of the garden of eden. i fear that cain and abel saw#the two fighting; potentially even going as far as to threaten each other with stones; and when the two excused it; the kids thought of it#as normal. keep in mind: violence is not born out of nowhere unless you're god; violence is taught; seen; heard of. it didn't make it any#better that there seemed to be no other people outside of the family yet that could tell them that that behaviour was wrong. so imagine#cain's shock upon seeing his brother not breathing. the shock that he murdered him. the shock that the threats that his parents did to each#other or that the angel war happening; were not normal. his brother was dead now. of course he had to lie when god came by. he quite surely#felt panicked to the point that he accidentally made a comeback to god. how could he not? he was a kid. they both were. and he felt regret.#he felt remorse. he felt anger to himself. and yet; god punished him. cain thought it was fair; because he killed his brother. but after a#while; it didn't seem fair. as he grew up; he thought that god telling him that he would be cursed to spend eternity roaming around the#earth would only last for until he was in his 30s. mortality rates were quite surely high back then; so he naturally thought that what god#said was metaphorical. because caine felt that way. that his remorse and anger and pain would roam eternally on earth. but after his#partner; and his children; and his grandchildren; and his great-grandchildren died; it didn't seem to be fair anymore. he wanted to die. he#had witnessed and felt everything: the flood; the crossing of the sea; the plagues; the goddamned everything. he still felt pain. he knew#why he was cursed; but he felt like what god did; was just plain cruel. he felt as though purgatory and getting juried out to see if you#were getting sent to hell or to heaven; was much more simplier; and had less pain; than dealing with the fact that you were now just a#walking body. something that used to be a person. something that should've been dead a long time ago. and yet. he was still alive. he just#wanted it to end. he knew what he did was wrong. but he just wanted to go back home. he wanted to start from scratch and be protective of#his brother and run away from god's view. but he couldn't now. he was cursed. he is now just a legend. a myth. a terror tale amongst the#folks in several towns that swear that they had seen him amongst the shadow. he must've been. after all; he looked ghastly enough to have a#tale or two written about him. ...would cain go near jesus? to ask him to please grant him mercy from this thing that he had now become?#or would he frightened? fearing that jesus would be as cruel as his god? obviously caine would be worried. jesus is supposed to be god's#child after all... i don't know it's just he reminds me of twilight sparkle and i just had to write this down-#cw corpse#spideygal#spideygal oc
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sick-as-a-dog · 1 year
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#wanna know the funniest thing to come from this?#i just realized that during the first relationship i wasnt really in love#or maybe it stopped or it somehow became just traumabonding somewhere along the way idk#but the first breakup wasnt this painful it really wasnt like this at all#sad for sure but nowhere near this amount of agony#but my mate was different i think he was the first i really truly fell in love with#this hurts more than anything else ive been through#all the shit ive been through all the endless abuse i grew up with and was put through all of my life#all the bruises and trauma and scars are nothing compared to the agonizing devistating gaping pain spreading through me rn#i want my mate back i want this to fuckig end i desperately want to die just to escape all of this#the horrible realization that the anxiety and paranoia were fucking right and not just some bpd fuelled worries#that him calling himself aro maybe WAS a warning of this happening after all and i shouldnt have trusted when he said im his exception#the fear that hes going to slowly leave just like the first one did because tbh its unavoidable and understandable#this pain that just wont stop and will never stop because why the hell would it stop im losing my best friend and love of my life#we couldve worked through it if he just didnt give up why did he give up why didnt he want to try literally anything else before this why#he gave up so i probably should too but idk how idk why i cant just fucking give up like he did whats wrong with me#why did this one have to be so much more painful than the previous one even if hes swearing to stay? was everything just lies after all?why
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I fucking hate it here so fucking much. Should never, ever, EVER have come back. I cannot wait to leave again.
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vypcr · 2 years
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hi besties I’m tired </3
#negative tw#[ooc]#that's code for getting hit hard by the stressy depressy again#idk just getting hit hard by a bunch of shit today out of nowhere#like a lot has happened over the past two years and basically the only friends I have in actual proximity to me live two hours away#so I can't go see them all the time. plus everyone is busy so we're lucky if we get to hang out once a month.#my best friend moved across the country last year and didn't tell me about it in advance or say goodbye#and we didn't fall out or anything and I should be over it but damn. idk.#the fact that I was at his house literally the day before he left to bring him a birthday gift and he said nothing to me about it#that shit hurt in a way I can't really explain. he was basically like my brother we grew up together. and then poof he's gone.#and I guess I didn't matter enough to be told about it lol#then the few other friends I had I kinda just. stopped associating with. mainly because they wouldn't return the energy yknow?#I felt like a permanent third wheel.#so really I'm grateful for the friends I've made here online because sometimes y'all are really the only ones who#don't make me feel like I'm alone 24/7#I mean that with every ounce of love in my body. y'all don't know how you've helped hold me together this year.#but that's where my anxiety is a bitch because it's always this back and forth of like#one minute I feel like I'm not doing enough to reach out to my friends. the next minute I feel like I'm annoying.#which is literally just my brain being a bully. it's been like this for me for as long as I can remember.#idk fam I just needed to vent a minute I hold this shit in too much. back to shitposting now.#ignore<3  do not perceive <3<3
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yanderenightmare · 2 months
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TW: yandere, classism, degradation, possessiveness, obsessiveness, blackmail
gn reader - feminine clothing (jewelry: earrings, necklace)
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Thinking about your rich boyfriend…
Rich boyfriend – who buys you clothes and jewelry every time you have a date, even when you tell him you feel bad receiving them all – that you have nowhere to wear such nice things – that a simple date is really more than enough. 
Rich boyfriend – who ignores you with a smile and shake of his head, asking you how you expect him to stop when you’re just the absolute cutest? Looking at him with those moon-big eyes, humble crinkle between your brows, and your lip tucked nervously between your teeth to keep from gawking. 
Rich boyfriend – who orders for you at all the restaurants he takes you to because he knows you’ve never been anywhere like it. Looking so adorably lost in your seat, flushed when staring at the menu written in a language you can’t read – knowing even if you could, you still wouldn't know what any of it meant. You’re so, so, so precious – eyes peeled like you’re a pet who’s just been allowed at the table for the first time.
Rich boyfriend – who plays four instruments, speaks five languages, went to an Ivy League institution, and will inherit his entire family’s business being the spoiled only child that he is.
Rich boyfriend – who just loves the messy household you grew up in – loves how you and your siblings interact with each other, looking like a bundle of pups all crammed in the same cage at a pet store – how your childhood bedroom is the size of his closet – filled with all sorts of trinkets you’ve kept growing up – stuff that would usually wind up in the trash at his house – polaroids of you as a teenager, past boyfriends in kissing booths, prom pictures, concert tickets, and old rusty friendship lockets. 
It’s all so… He scoffs. The word for it escapes him.
Suppose he doesn’t quite recognize the pricelessness of sentimental value as opposed to something actually sellable – but he finds it cute that you do. 
Though, it bothers him to some degree as well… that you would value an old pair of earrings gifted you by your grandmother instead of the actual antique diamond pair he’d procured for you. After all, one was a real historic piece worth a fortune a Russian duchess had snuck into England during the war, and the other was old junk made by a noname jeweler.
Rich boyfriend – who chokes on his spit when you sit him down and tell him you want to break up – who thinks he’s misheard – that you’re joking, playing some uncultured game he’s never been exposed to, some ill-taste past-time only poor people do to escape their bitter reality. 
But you’re not joking… 
You’re breaking up with him…You.. You… broke trash of worker-class scum… you’re breaking up with him?
You give him back all his gifts in a cardboard box – telling him you’re grateful but that you truly don’t have any use for such things – that you think your worlds are too different to coincide. 
Of course, you refrain from telling him you think he’s a classist snob. You have a feeling it would have gone completely over his head if you’d tried anyway, so there really was no point to it.
Rich ex-boyfriend – who’s never been told no in his entire life…
Rich ex-boyfriend – who buys your street and plans on scrapping it to make brand new mansions in a project he dubs “cleaning up the slums” – evicting and putting you and your entire family out of the home you’d spent your entire life growing up in.
Rich ex-boyfriend – who thinks you’re crawling back to him when you schedule an appointment at his office – who thinks you’re going to come in with bleary wet eyes and grovel like the lowly peasant you are – let him save you from poverty and homelessness, make you his charity case – his pretty diamond in the rough who’s never quite able to wash all the coal off.
Rich ex-boyfriend – who trashes that same office when you leave after having given him the address to the pawnshop you sold the one pearl necklace you’d kept as a token of your relationship – telling him he should feel free to go down there and get it back – that you’re using the money to buy a better house and you just wanted to come and thank him for that. 
Of course, you wanted to slap him too – spit on his tie or maybe just take a piss on his desk – but you left it at that.
Rich ex-boyfriend – whose next move is to buy your family business, who hires a private eye to dig up dirt on you and all your family, burying you in fines from age-old petty crimes, gets you kicked from your scholarship.
Rich ex-boyfriend – who goes to that pawnshop and reports the pearl necklace as a stolen item and has the police arrest you. Spinning a story about how he thought you were this humble sweet thing, only for you to rob him behind his back.
Rich ex-boyfriend – who comes to visit you in the custody suite where you sit cooped up with all the other wretched mutts on the cold concrete floors – scolding you for making him come down to a dirty police precinct, for having him breathe the same air as all the lowlives held up there.
Rich ex-boyfriend – who tells you he’ll make it all go away.
He’ll drop the charges, let your family keep their house – or buy them an even better one, whichever you prefer – he’ll even promote your family business and pay for all your siblings' education – he’ll give you everything. 
Anything you want, it’s yours.
But he owns you.
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BNHA – Bakugou, Shoto, Dabi, Hawks, Overhaul
JJK – Sukuna, Gojo, Naoya
HQ – Oikawa, Sakusa, Miya twins
BLLK – Reo, Rin
HxH – Illumi
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lxnarphase · 3 months
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i'll give you the fire i keep inside ๋࣭ ⚝
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up to the challenge : ⌞no nut november⌝ edition [ pt 2 - pt 3 - pt 4 ]
☾₊‧⁺...ft. : gojo satoru + geto suguru
☾₊‧⁺...cw : pussy eating, praise kink, begging, premature ejaculation, clothed sex, whiny reader (gojo), smug reader (geto), satoru overestimating himself, suguru 'just the tip' geto
☾₊‧⁺...synopsis : it's nowhere near november, but i need to write this. it's based off an old post of mine from 4 years ago! so, i have no excuse 🖤
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✧ g. satoru lasts : 2 days
oh, satoru is so confident that he'll easily make it through the entirety of november. the moment he coos to you about how excited he is to participate in 'no nut november' as a challenge against suguru, he's walking around with his chest puffed out. however, he doesn't take into account that you'd be a little upset after he tells you, thinking you have to go a whole month without sex with your boyfriend. but everyone knows satoru is the best boyfriend, right? he'd neeeever let his pretty lil' mochi feel unsatisfied. so, on the second day of November, he's got you up on the kitchen counter, mouth buried between your thighs as he practically devours your cunt, messily licking and sucking at your clit as his eyes roll back just from the taste of you. after all, there's no way he'd lose this way!
it had only been two days since satoru had fucked you, how were you this wet and needy? you were dripping down his chin, soaking his fucking face, and god, he was in heaven. "c'mon, baby, grind that clit into my mouth," he fucking whines, kissing your pussy between slurps, hands holding you spread open for him to keep testing you. satoru's so hard, it hurts, his cock rubbing and twitching against the rough fabric of his sweatpants, but he couldn't touch, he wouldn't let himself. he'd be fine, all he needed was to make sure he made his baby cum. "hhf, 't-toru, 'toruuuu, i-i miss you, i miss youuu," you pitifully whine, pretty eyes filling with tears as you grew closer and closer to cumming all over his face. but just hearing you say that you miss him when it hasn't even been a fucking week almost makes satoru cum, almost. "baby, babyyy, don't say that shit," satoru whimpers, about to pull away from your dripping slit, dizzy from your words. but you don't let him, no, not when you're this close. with the cutest little huff, you look him right in his pretty blue eyes and grab a fistful of his hair, smashing his mouth right back against your cunt as you cry his name. and oh, the noise he lets out against your pussy feels so gooddd, feeling his tongue desperately licking up your cum. god, you were practically suffocating him. all that Satoru could process was you, you, you. jesus, he didn't think he'd be able to leave you alone the rest of the month, not when just going two days got you this desperate...he really was fucking you that good that you got addicted, huh? it's okay because honestly? he missed your pussy so fucking much. "'toru, satoruuu, p-please, i-i don't like this challenge anymore, miss when you stuff me w-with your cum," you whine as you ride out the last waves of your orgasm, giving him one last tug into your pussy so his mouth was right over your clit. have you always been this fucking whiny and demanding? god, satoru couldn't remember. but, you didn't realize how seriously all the tugging and those filthy, desperate words of yours would affect him. hell, he didn't know how badly it would affect him. once he separates himself from you, he's avoiding eye contact, and he's getting red. embarrassed. flustered. all it took was a quick glance down to see what the issue was. "b-baby, you...i just...how—" "'toru, did you cum in your pants?"
✧ g. suguru lasts : 2.5 weeks
the only reason suguru decided to participate in this was because satoru roped him into it. not that he didn't think he could do it, but because he knew satoru was going to lose against him. he's so thankful that you're nothing but supportive, eager for him to win this challenge with the promise of a reward of his choosing once he made it to December 1st. it's honestly not that hard. as long as he's able to still be affectionate with you, suguru is content. sure, sometimes he has to stop his imagination, but otherwise, he's fine. at least, that's until he comes home to you wearing the cutest purple thigh highs with little skulls on them. it starts off with suguru pulling you closer, making you stand between his legs as his hands rub up and down your plush thighs...but next thing you know, your legs are over his shoulders as he drags his cock up and down your slit.
"just—just the tip, okay? i can't put anymore in, princess." "suguruuuuu, just! put it in! stop teasing!" those pretty legs of yours would always be his downfall, suguru could never resist them. there wasn't anything even sexual about it, but just seeing how they squeezed your thighs so perfectly...he couldn't help himself. but if he only let himself put the tip of his dick inside that tight little hole of yours, he'd be fine...yeah, he just needed a small feel, and he'd be fine. without any more hesitation, suguru slowly sunk into your puffy pussy, letting out a shaky groan as his head fell down onto your shoulder. shit, shit, shit, it was only the tip, but you felt so good, too fucking good. "g-god, why's this cunt so wet and warm, baby? it's not fair," suguru hissed, lifting his head to look down to where you both were connected. "s'not my fault you wanted to do this dumb challenge," you hummed, a little smug smile on your face. "stop listenin' to satoru, you'll get stupid like him." it made him laugh, you were so amused by him barely holding himself together...and he couldn't blame you, he wasn't the type to break so easily... "s-suguruuu, wait, you said just the tip, that's—suguuuu!" suguru let out the most scandalized gasp when he realized his entire cock was being hugged by your soft, hot walls. it was so cute, though, how you tried to help him, to let him know so he didn't lose. such a sweetheart, weren't you? but, suguru was too far gone. he had slowly begun inching himself inside of you, not even realizing it until it was too late. not being able to stop his hips from moving, thrusting in and out of you, creating a little ring of cream around the base of his cock as his dick dragged against those soft spots inside you that made you keen his name. "oh, princess, angel, you're so sweet, you know that? s-shit, listen to that pussy...she missed this? she missed the feeling of her sugu inside? hm? fuuuck, fuck it, 'm-'m gonna give you what you need, baby, d-don't worry," he says in a needy rasp, pressing his forehead against yours, giving you a delirious little grin. yeah, suguru knew he was going to lose today...he'd be damned if he didn't cum all over this sweet cunt. all because of some stupidly cute socks.
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all rights reserved © lxnarphase | do not repost, copy, translate, or alter my work
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patricia-taxxon · 7 months
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abstraction is not the exclusive domain of impenetrable modern art. it can also be when you play super mario and it feels like a whole world even if it's just in 2D, it can be watching the lion king and feeling that it has a happy ending simply because all the plants grew back out of gratitude for the natural order being in place, it can be hearing the sadness in a piece of music with no words. "low culture" is already abstract in many of the same ways pollock and rothko are. you are already an intellectual, there's nowhere to run.
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yandere-daydreams · 5 months
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Title: Sacrifical Bride.
Commissioned by the very lovely @yanmaresu.
Pairing: Yandere!Hades x Reader (Record of Ragnarök).
Word Count: 3.0k.
TW: Fem!Reader, Non/Con, Forced Marriage, Unbalanced Power Dynamics, Emotional Manipulation, Rough Sex, Unprotected Sex, and Mentions of Kidnapping/Prolonged Captivity. Not Canon Complacent. I Have Never Met Canon But I Hear She's Very Nice.
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The wedding was a solemn affair.
Not dull, because nothing that had your heart beating so violently could ever be considered ‘dull’, and not dreary, because despite the many, many things you could say about your kidnapper-turned-husband, he wasn’t one for bland affairs. No, your dress was of the finest and most vibrant silks, your veil lined with pearls and rubies and the gown’s train long enough to swell and ebb behind you as you walked down the seemingly never-ending aisle, unaccompanied by any escort. Wreaths of shining ivory lilies and blooming chrysanthemums encircled marble pillars, low-burning lanterns casting the chapel in long, wavering shadows. The pews were empty. The only guests were his ghastly servants, and they’d never once said a word to you.
There was no officiant. Hades waited for you at the brimstone altar alone, a gentle simper playing over his lips as he watched you drag your feet and fight the urge to bolt, to run, to do the very thing that’d left you trapped in his arm in the first place. It was tempting, albeit pointless. You’d always been swift footed, but there was nowhere to escape to in Helheim. At best, you’d spend a few days hiding and struggling to survive in the empty plains that surrounded his looming fortress of a home. At worst, you’d find yourself without direction and beyond the reach of his control, hopelessly lost and stumbling through fields of fading dead and gnarled beasts and things that would make the man in front of you look hospitable, in comparison. You tried to remind yourself of that as your body begged you to flee.
As you reached the altar, his smile grew into something that could’ve been convincingly genuine, had it been able to reach the pits of lifeless ice that were his eyes. Rather, the gesture only seemed to add to the coil of dread growing tighter in the pit of your stomach as you stepped beside him, clutching your bouquet to your chest in a white-knuckled grip. He’d let you pick that out yourself, at least, and you’d taken a truly irrational amount of joy in picking wildflowers and trimming roses and breaking every rule of decorum your mother had ever taught you. Now, though, the shadows of his hall seemed to dull your vision-searing colors, and it was difficult to take joy in such a simple pleasure knowing the man in front of you sought to ensure you’d never braid daisies or sleep beneath open skies again, when he was staring you down like yet another precious gem he planned to add to his ever-growing collection. It was a cruel comparison, but not quite as hyperbolic as you would’ve liked.
There was a shallow sigh, a hand brought to the edge of your veil. He toyed with the fabric for a long moment before taking the hem in both hands and pulling it away from your face. If he recognized the terror stitched into your expression, he only deemed it worth a slight shake of his head. “Oh, beloved.” His hand fell to your cheek. “You’re as radiant as the day we met.”
The day he plucked you from your mortal life and dragged you into the depths of the earth, the day he’d forced the awful seeds of that terrible fruit down your throat and promised you would never see another living soul again. You swallowed back your nerves. “Please, don’t draw this out.”
You were lucky you’d fallen into the hands of such a mild-tempered captor. He let out an airy chuckle, turning back to the altar. It was decorated sparsely; an overflowing cornucopia posed in one corner, a standing thurible slowly releasing nauseatingly sweet incense into the stagnant air sitting in the other. Between them was only a bottle of dark wine and two twin chalices, crafted of only the finest bronze and polished until they shined in the low lighting. He filled both to the brim before looking towards you, a glint in his remaining eye as he took a chalice in either hand.
You’d been wrong when you assumed they were identical. Where one had a line of aimless, curling thorns following the rim and plunging down the length of the handle, the other was embellished with roses, abstract and nearly shapeless, forming neat columns across the body of the cup. He extended the latter to you, its contents threatening to spill as you took it in your trembling hands. You’d managed to talk him out of the more elaborate ceremonies he’d suggested, but it was difficult to remember that this was a preferable alternative now that could feel the chill of his wine seeping into your palms.
You brought it to your lips, held it there for a moment, then pulled back at the hint of a more familiar scent than that of his dizzying incense. “Pomegranates?”
“I thought it would be a nice touch.” For him, maybe. He’d always struggled to see things from your perspective. “Forgive my sentimentality.”
You wouldn’t, but you were smart enough to keep that to yourself. When he raised his chalice, you did the same, mirroring him when your own will failed you. “To us, darling.”
You nodded. “To us.”
He took a long sip from his chalice, seeming to savor the rich wine, while you drained yours in a single breath. Try as you might to enjoy it, you could only seem to taste ash.
~
A few vows were exchanged, a kiss pressed into the back of your hand when you flinched away from his attempt to communicate his affection more directly. Finally, he took your arm and guided you back to your shared chambers, lingering in the doorway while you collapsed onto his bed – your marital bed, now, you supposed. You buried your face in the silken sheets, letting out a soft groan. There would be a celebration later on, a feast with all of his many gloating brothers and prying sisters in attendance, but the worst of it was over. You were bound to him, for better or for worse. All you could do was weather the consequences.
You’d hoped he would be kind enough to leave you alone while you consoled yourself, while you took all that you knew and all that you didn’t and recontextualized it with yourself as the mortal bride to the God of Death, but a hand on your shoulder dispelled that fleeting fantasy. With no small amount of reluctance, you pushed yourself upward and turned your attention back to Hades. This time, without the pretense of custom, he didn’t settle for your hand. His mouth found its way to the dip of your shoulder, then the crook of your neck, his teeth scraping against your skin as he pressed wet, open-mouthed kisses into his chosen targets.
When he started to move towards the curve of your throat, you moved on instinct – your hands finding their way to his hair as you dragged him away from you before he could do anything you wouldn’t be able to forget as soon as he left the room. “Please,” you said, not for the first time that day. “I… I’d rather be alone, right now. If it’s all the same to you.”
His smile didn’t waver. “You know that, if it were up to me, I would bend to your every whim,” he spaced the words out generously, as if worried your feeble human mind might not be able to understand. “But we aren’t done.”
Your expression fell. “I’ve done everything you’ve asked of me. I wore the dress, and—and I took your vows, and—”
“My love,” he cut you off swiftly, bringing his hand up to cup your cheek. “Our union will have to be consummated, eventually.”
You felt your throat begin to swell shut.
“I know that, but—” You laid your hand over his, trying to call upon whatever pale imitation of sympathy might’ve existed in his heart. “—does it have to be consummated now?”
You watched as his gaze softened, as his head lulled to the side in that endeared-yet-condescending manner he seemed so fond of. Slowly, with a painstaking gentleness, he brought you closer to him, ghosting over the top of your head and lingering there, even as he started to speak. “I think,” he started, his voice muffled by proximity. “that it would be in your best interest not to keep me waiting any longer.”
It wasn’t a threat, but it was posed like one, dredged up from somewhere deep in his chest and accompanied by his hand on your waist, nimble fingers slipping underneath the sash binding your gown together. When you jerked back, reflexively trying to escape his advances, he was quick to chase you, to let his softened smile spread into an amused grin as an arm wrapped around your midriff and dragged you, willingly or otherwise, into his lap. “I don’t want to hurt you.” And yet, your safety didn’t seem to cross his mind as his blunt nails bit into your waist, as he dragged you close enough to feel his chest press into yours, to become uncomfortably aware of the stiff outline against the loose fabric of his pants. “If I rely on my own self-restraint for another day—” Another kiss, this one to the tender patch of skin above your jugular vein. “I’m afraid I might end up doing something we both regret, when the time comes.”
“Less than a day,” you pleaded as he buried his face in your neck. There was a blur of movement, the ghost of his touch along the curve of your spine, and your bodice fell away in tatters, the ruined fabric collapsing to your waist. When you moved to cover yourself, Hades clicked his tongue and you froze, letting your arms fall back to your sides. Begging him to change his mind was one thing. Going against him so transparently would only make things more difficult. “Half a day. An hour. I just— Hades, I can’t do this right now—”
“My love.” Swift, blunt, merciless. You’d been a fool to ever think he was one of the kinder gods. “I think I’ve waited long enough to claim what belongs to me.”
Any protest you might’ve had died in your throat.
You’d been a fool to ever think he was anything less than the cruelest of his kin.
You wanted to scream. If you couldn’t run, then you would yell, raise your voice and tell him that he already had you, that he’d gotten everything he could’ve possibly wanted, but anything you might’ve said was torn away and ripped to shreds as his head dipped low, his teeth latching onto the vulnerable skin of you collar bone and sinking in. He didn’t draw blood, but he didn’t have to. A bolt of pure, stinging agony shot from your chest to your core, only dulling as he pulled away with a low groan. “Have I ever told you how much I adore the sound of my name on your tongue?” You felt his hand on your hip, then your thigh, the remains of your dress cut through and disposed of with little fanfare. He gave your bridal lingerie (pure white and so obnoxiously lacy, you’d had to wonder if this was all some sadistic joke as you slipped it on) more attention, his thumb running along the delicate trim before his fingers slipped underneath it, tracing the length of your slit before doing away with the barrier altogether.
Dread and panic dulled your reactions, but it would’ve been a lie to say the feeling of his mouth on your skin had left you completely unaffected. He chuckled as he gathered your slick on his fingertips, two of which were soon pressed into your clit with a brutal sort of precision. “And you tried to play coy.” He teased the sensitive bundle of nerves mercilessly, the patterns he traced into your clit too slow and too fleeting all at once. You wished he wouldn’t touch you at all, but if he was going to, it was the least he could’ve done not to draw it out. “That must’ve been why you seemed so rushed during our ceremony. If you’d asked me to make love to you on that altar, I happily would have.”
Hot, humiliated tears welled up in the corners of your eyes. You attempted to deny it, but a cracked moan slipped past your lips instead as two of his fingers were forced into your cunt and spread, splitting you apart. Your hands shot to his shoulders, trying to stabilize yourself, but he only saw your desperation as an invitation – bowing his head and pumping his fingers into you at the kind of languid pace that left you fighting not to rock against him, not to make up for the urgency immortal creatures so often lacked. “You’re a vice,” he muttered, his breath ghosting over the shell of your ear, his tone low and lecherous. You wondered, briefly, if words that fell from the lips of a god could be considered sinful. “To think my own wife would’ve had me neglect her so severely for so long.”
You shook your head. You were married to him, sure, bound to him. But you couldn’t afford to think of yourself as his wife. You couldn’t afford to think of yourself as something so limited, something so purely an extension of him. “I’m not—”
“Don’t try to spare my feelings. I can see that I underestimated just how much attention my little mortal would need.” His wrist quirked, another digit pushing past your entrance and stuffing your pussy full as his fingers curled and ground inside of you. Against your will, you felt a tight heat begin to twist and writhe in the pit of your stomach, pangs of burning pleasure coursing from your cunt to your core. Now, you cried unabashedly, embarrassment and shame burning in your cheeks and fueling the unsteady stream of tears that Hades was so agonizingly quick to coo over, to kiss away as your hips bucked unsteadily against his hand. “What a sensitive wife I have.” That word – that awful word – was enough to earn a ragged sob, but if he recognized the connection, he didn’t deem it worth his concern. “I promise, you’ll never feel so unloved in my care again.”
You would’ve given anything to be able to pull away from him, to be able to shove at his chest and swear to all the gods you’d once worshiped that there was no part of you that could ever feel loved with him, but in the end, he was the one to let you go, to throw you onto the center of his great bed and leave you whining involuntarily at the sudden loss of stimulation. He’d never been one to deprive you, though; in a moment, he was in between your open legs, one hand wrapped loosely around your thigh while the other pulled feverishly at his own clothes. His coat fell away first, then his shirt. You heard fabric shift and metal clink and, in a daze, saw him wrap his fist around something he could not have possibly planned to fit inside of you. Half out of terror and half out of instinct, your gaze flickered from his cock to his face – to the wide, fanged grin he’d been wearing for as long as you could remember.
He moved to kiss you, and you drove your heel into his stomach.
The blow would’ve been weak by human standards, but it caught him off-guard. Out of reflex, he reeled back, and you took the opportunity to scramble off his bed and towards the door, to any part of this forsaken place where Hades wasn’t. You made it a step, maybe two before something caught your shoulder, before your body buckled under a weight greater than your own. You were dragged onto your knees before you could so much as think to slip away from him, your cheek forced against the cool marble of the floor before you could hope to make your descent more dignified. You felt his broad chest press into your back, his snarling lips against the curve of your throat. You wondered if the insult would be great enough to warrant taking your life, but the thought was dismissed quickly.
Hades had never been the kind of god capable of showing such mercy.
“I would’ve made love to you like a queen,” he spat, his tone all manic venom and overdue obsession. “But, if you’d rather be fucked on the ground like a whore, I’m more than happy to oblige.”
You weren’t allowed the luxury of bracing yourself, this time. In one brutal movement, he thrust into you, splitting you open on his cock with the kind of harsh, unforgiving force better suited to a wild animal.  There was no time to adjust, no time to sob, only Hades groaning against your neck as he bucked against you, never daring to pull out completely. Whatever agony his fingers had sparked was now ten-fold. Your legs shook, your body threatening to collapse entirely, but Hades kept your ass raised and your thighs spread, his focus entirely on bucking into you as deeply and as roughly as he could.
It almost surprised you when one of his hands shot to your head, his fingers tangling themselves in your hair as he forced his mouth against yours. You tried not to cooperate, but two fingers pressed into your clit and your mouth fell open in a guttural cry, providing an opening he seemed content to take advantage of. It was a deep, lingering, messything – all tongue and teeth – but his cock ground against something soft and vulnerable and you failed to suppress the wave of pure heat that flooded through your battered body as you clenched around him, as you came undone around the cock of your kidnapper, your captor, your husband. Hades wasn’t far behind, his composure shattering no more than a second after the walls of your cunt clenched down around him. You could only choke on your misery-tinged pleasure as his hips pressed into your ass and he came inside of you – his awful warmth soon tainting every fiber of your being.
You tried to tell yourself that, at the very least, it was over - that he’d had his fill of you and now, you’d be free to console yourself elsewhere, but your hopes were once again dashed when Hades failed to release you, failed to pull out of you, failed to do anything but press himself into your back and trail his lips idly down to the nape of your neck. “Once is a pitiful amount for a king. Don’t you agree?”
You felt his hips move back, then rock against you just as quickly.
“You can forgive me when we’re done, love.”
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