hiahiahu id like to get a blue lock matchup đĽšCONGRATS ON 500!!!!!
abt me ^^:
i'm a trans korean guy (pre op!) and go by he/they! i'm bi with a preference towards men and i just turned 18 đĽš
personality wise, im not thaaat interesting... i have mdd, gad, and ocd which i manage well but sometimes leads to intense mood swings TT but i try to be patient and understanding (and i usually am!). im extremely sensitive and empathic to the point it puts me in distress and despair đ its super easy to make me cry but that doesnt mean im extremely hurt either! im also the type of person to not really have a personality when nobody is around... i kinda just do what i need to do to survive but when im with other people i can adapt and match their energies and vibes TT i am very good at blending in with a group!
some people have described me as really outgoing and passionate while others have said im really quiet and easygoing .,. most of them agree that i'm really supportive and easygoing to get along with!
i look for the usual things in a person... someone funny, kind, nice, yk! but i really value communication and find emotional intelligence really attractive. but at the same time i also fall for the closed off, unemotional ones too TT. i dont have a specific type, but my pet peeves include not making time for me, not putting in the effort, love-bombing, cancelling plans last minute, downplaying my achievements, bla bla bla !!
im an infp-t (though it does change between that, intj-t, and intp-t) and my love language is gift giving 𼚠i looove giving things 2 people and id loove to receive any kinda love language back! i like to draw, im reaallly passionate about music, and i play video games >< i play 10+ instruments and i'm also a professional singer :D
TYSM AND AGAIN CONGRATS ON THIS HUUGE MILESTONE! i hope youre taking care of yourself and that your days are filled with happiness đĽš
â MATCH ONE ੠âş
you matched up with... ISAGI YOICHI
with the both of you being adaptable, it'd be easy to get along. isagi's friendly and polite attitude would blend well with your supportive and easygoing personality, allowing the two of you to match each other's energies and bond well due to it.
both passionate in your own ways, you'd both be a great source of support for the other. the two of you would be a catalyst of inspiration for the other.
he'd find your passion for music, and your other hobbies, as something amazing. isagi would listen to you with literal hearts in his eyes whenever you play instruments or sing.
on the other hand, he'd also love whenever you show your support towards himâby attending his matches, or wishing him good luckâyour encouragement means the world to him.
isagi is a classic romantic at heart. he would do his best to spend all the time he can on you, making sure you never feel unlovedâbecause he does love you. I imagine he was raised to be a gentleman, and with the amazing relationship his parents have as a role model, he'd treat his partner right.
he'd be understanding of your mood swings, never stepping over your boundaries. he'd always make sure you're doing well, while still being mindful of not being overbearing. he's the type to check in on you to make sure you're doing fine from time to time.
disputes would be solved as easily as it comes, as he wouldn't be the type to let miscommunication get in the way of things. it isn't hard for him to take responsibility for his wrong doings.
all in all, you and yoichi isagi complement each other greatly. you'd bring out the best of the other, and would be able to relate to each other's aspirations and motivations.
a classic date in a cozy cafe, getting drinks together, chatting about anything under the sun over the sound of soft music coming from the cafe speakers.
going out together in the arcade, spending hours on games and tryharding claw machines.
karaoke nights where he swears he'll get higher score, lightheartedly competitive with nothing truly at stake. most of the time, he ends up just distracted by you. he never wins.
post-game lunches where he excitedly tells you details of the match over fast food, sometimes talking too fast when his mind starts running faster than his mouth.
walking together, hand in hand, while the sun sets. no true destination in mind, but the playlist you were both listening toâthrough shared earphonesâjust shuffled to your favorite song, so you two keep walking.
đđđđđđđđđđ: 0.3k; fluff; gn!reader; established relationship
â note ! I'm so tlltd-pilled
masterlist.
"zanzan, c'mere."
zanka deliberately ignores the way his face flushes at the nickname, glancing up to where you lounged on your stomach on his bed, some type of game console you managed to get your hands on occupying half your attention. he put down the book he was reading with a sigh, moving to get up from his desk to sit next to you.
the game you've been playing obsessively for days was displayed on the screenâtomodachi life, or something, he recallsâraising a brow as he sees a mii version of him on the display, following the mii version of you around your island with a blush on his face.
"your mii has been crushing for two days now, and has made no move at all," you remark, a slip of amusement obvious in your tone.
zanka clicks his tongue, feeling embarrassed, knowing it wasn't entirely inaccurate. "did'ya call me 'ere just to make fun of a videogame version of me in my face?" he murmured, earning a giggle from you. he grumbles under his breath, watching as you pick up your mii and held them over his.
mii-zanka started reaching for yours, jumping up and down and running after them as they dangled from the on-screen hand. the amused smile was obvious on your lipsâyou found the yearning to be entertaining.
zanka held back from huffing when a cutscene pops up after you finally made them interact, no doubt another one of those sappy ones you've shown him multiple times before.
"let⌠my⌠thoughts⌠reach⌠youâŚ"
he physically makes a face as his mii outstretched his arm, as if telepathically reaching towards yours. mii-you then feels something's up, cutting to a clip of a bunch of mii-zanka's in your mii's stomach, repeating 'love you's over and over again.
"this is ridiculous," zanka murmurs, looking up from the screen towards youâand his eyes soften a little, despite the raging blush of abashment on his face.
as humiliating as it was that his mii was 'ready to risk it all', it remained true for his real counterpart.
gachiakuta taglist (answer to be added!): @reverielaced @neversam @froggygothamlover @magpieka @noemivalorr @i-heartdinos @peachs-fics @sugarcutiepiee
the feelings that your injury made him realize has never been part of the equation.
đđđđđđđđđđ: requested by @rinis-reality ; 0.8k; gn!raider!reader; fluff; non-graphic descriptions of injury; feelings realization
â note! sorry for the long disappearance, I'm in the process of finishing all my reqs!
masterlist.
you had always been a trustworthy pawnâzodyl has acknowledged this. strong, smart, resourceful, and above all: reliable. you were his first choice whenever he needed someone to complete an important mission; one of the strongest combatants he had. his right hand, his most trusted companion.
he'd never overestimate you. despite the unbroken streak of successful missions without a single scratch on you, he knew you weren't invincible. zodyl was never one to leave out any possibilities, and a failure on your part would be disappointing, but it's not something outside of the possible outcomes he had thought of. he knew it would happen, one day or another.
what he hadn't predicted was you coming back fatally injured.
had he not trusted his instinctsâa gut feeling, really, which was something he rarely didâand sent cthoni to your last reported location, he was sure you'd be more critically hurt than the wounds you were already nursing now.
she had reported having to retrieve you from some place underground, barely standing where she had found you. cthoni mentioned you being surrounded by the unconscious bodies of the two target givers he had assigned you to take out, alongside a dozen other armed men he had failed to account for.
it was a factor he didn't include inâthe possibility of the targets bringing a band of armed mercenaries with them. a crucial piece of extra information he hadn't thought of.
zodyl would never overestimate you. much less underestimate the pests in the way of his research.
seeing your sleeping form on the bed, he vows he won't look over any small piece of data, no matter how insignificant, too.
the raiders didn't have a healer. not any official ones, at the very least. it was either you patch yourself up or die bleeding. zodyl would've never thought he'd end up feeling something akin to guilt for his lack of forethought as a leader. the sight of you injuredâand possibly staying injured for longer than necessaryâ clawed in his chest uncomfortably, stemming from beyond the thought of wasting time.
it's been so long since he has last felt emotions like this.
zodyl was far from emotional. yet a part of him felt bad for being the indirect cause of your state. he sat on the chair close to your bed, arms crossed as he leaned on the backrest, eyes never leaving you. you were bandaged up, gauze wrapped around your arm, and then around your neck, enveloping further down the collar of your shirt, covering the more serious wound you've sustained on your torso.
he watched the slow rise and fall of your chest. you looked peaceful, in a way. resting and unbothered. and his eyes stay on you for a long while. it took hours before your eyelids finally fluttered open, and zodyl found himself sitting a little straighter.
"boss?" you call out, blinking blearily, half-asleep and most likely feeling an ache all over your body. there's a rasp in your voice from the long hours of disuse, quiet and scratchy. the bed creaks as you try to sit up, shifting under your weight as you haul your upper body to sit despite the pain, arms shaking slightly at the straining effort.
zodyl noticed. and he'd rather you put the formalities aside and stay lying down, rather than force yourself to get up for his sake. "don't stand," he ordered, voice monotone, yet carrying an undertone of worry he couldn't believe was there. he didn't say anything other than that, watching as you stare back in slight surprise, before following through and leaning your weight on the headboard.
the support must've eased the pressure on your body, with how you let out a soft sigh. he watches you wince, hand gravitating towards the spiking ache on your side. the sheepish look in your face didn't escape him; no doubt, you felt responsible for needing him to send in back up when you usually never failed.
he didn't like that look on your face.
"don't dwell on it too much," he remarked, the sudden statement making you look up to him. he wasn't one to comfort, and so the thought of doing so was more than foreign for him. "you still took them out, after all," the reminder of your slim success was the best he could do.
he heard you sighâassumed it was from reliefâand looked away, standing up from the chair he'd spent hours waiting for you to wake up on. he confirmed that you were alive and capable of recovery, that meant it was his queue to leave and let you rest. yet at glancing at you once again, his feet planted on the floor, and his chest felt all twisted up wrong at the thought of parting from you so soon.
he hesitated. hesitating was never part of him.
zodyl came to the conclusion that he was never himself when it came to you.
gachiakuta taglist (answer to be added!): @reverielaced @neversam @froggygothamlover @magpieka @noemivalorr @i-heartdinos @sugarcutiepiee
đđđđđđđđđđ: 0.6k; gn!reader; fluff; established relationship
â note! this is a really old draft that I just edited... that's why the writing might be different from the rest of my fics. also, I'm trying out not putting the actual writing into small font, feel free to tell me what you think about it đĽš
masterlist.
âyou really canât keep your hands off of me, huh?â
you roll your eyes, deciding to ignore what he just uttered. there was a shiver from him that he couldn't quite hide as your fingers trailed to the blue rose on his neck. kaiser had tensed up at the touch, but he forced himself to relax just as quickly.
both of you lied on your shared bed, cuddled up under the blanket as you traced the length of his tattoo. it was raining outside, the soft pitter-patter of droplets hitting the window created a soft background noise, filling the silence with a rhythmic pattering.
kaiser felt you touch the thorny vine inking his pale skin, following the intricate lines down his arm. you reached his hand, rubbing your thumb against the tattooed crown on the back of the appendage. your fingers were light on him, your caresses barely brushing, like he was something worth being careful over.
he would've pushed such an intimate touch awayâvulnerability was an emotion he refused to wear. fairly so, considering his upbringing. but something about your touch made him want to melt.
a blue rose: the symbol of the impossible. something he wanted to embody, and so he permanently marked it on his skin. the tattoo tracked down the entire length of his left arm, a reminder of his goalâand your soft gesture felt like you were validating what he strives to be, it was everything sweet and affectionate.
kaiser never knew how to deal with kindness, much less affection.
he was used to being the center of malice. he fed off of the thought of being someoneâs enemyâhe enjoyed it. but in the face of kindness, he doesn't have a single clue on how to process it. you were doing everything but hating him right now, and he didnât know what to do.
it was so tempting to lean into your touch, to ease the defenses as you slipped through the cracks of the carefully created barricade he formed around himself. he felt the deliberately crafted mask he wore crack as vulnerability spilled out. and with the way your hand went to cup his cheek, with a hold that got impossibly gentler, he knew you noticed too.
âyou're tense,â you suddenly murmur, pointing out an observation. your eyes scan over him, taking in each detail. of course, you had no plans on making him uncomfortable, he knew you'd feel like shit if you do. in your head, this was supposed to be a shared tender moment of winding down after a long day for you both.
he should've said some snarky comment back: some prepared response paired with his trademark grin to turn the situation around. yet, for some reason, those words died in his throatâalong with the last thread of resisting the affection. âshut up,â kaiser grumbled, shooting you a glare to mask his inner turmoil. his reply put you at ease, as while he acts annoyed to cover up the fact he feels vulnerable, it didn't direct to him being in discomfort in your hold.Â
âsure, your majesty,â you retort, not very discreetly shifting closer towards him, making your way to his spaceâjust like how you've wormed your way into his heart. kind of unnerving, to him. not having to constantly be on guard was something foreign for kaiser, you knew he had to unlearn being constantly in survival mode.
and he had always known that you were more than willing to help him with that.
blue lock taglist (answer to be added!) @reverielaced @noemivalorr
đđđđđđđđđđ: 1k words; mutual pinning (as in both reader and zanka are losers); no use of y/n or gendered pronouns for reader insert; tooth-rotting fluff; she/her is used for lovely assistaff okay? okay.
â note! this one is straight out of a romcom (CORNBALL ALERTTTT!!) hi gachiakuta fandom. I'm here. also happy birthday to the best character zanka nijiku
masterlist
there's really only one place you'll find him, even on a day like this.
gravel crunches under your foot as you enter the cleaner's training grounds, the familiar sound of lovely assistaff snapping down a dummy accompanying the peaceful atmosphere that has dawned the area. the sunlight drowns his figure under a warm glow, an orange outline bordering the edges of his profile.
he's beautiful.
you wonder why he even looks at your direction.
zanka moves fluidly, precise and sure, moving with his vital instrument like they were one. he transitions from form to form smoothlyâpracticed and perfectedârefined in the way he slices through the air with her.
he moves to a stop a few stances after, ash-blonde hair coming loose and framing his face. he inhales for a moment, gripping assistaff, leaning his forehead against her, taking in the comfort this routine graces him with. after one last brush against the grain of her wood, zanka returns her to the slip on the back of his uniform.
zanka turns to you then, blue eyes softening at your presence, before turning bashful at the realization you have been watching him.
it's easy to smile at him, heart warming as he smiles back. easy for your feet to start carrying you closer, gravitating towards him. easy for you to take a breath, calm your nerves as you catch the lingering scent of incense from him.
it stopped being easy when you finally open your mouth to say something. words getting stuck in your throat the moment you needed to say them. you could feel your heart beating against your chest, fluttering at just being close and alone with him.
"hi," you started, the only thing that seemed to be able to come out your lips without your voice cracking, scared to embarrass yourself in front of him.
zanka doesn't seem to be doing great at being unaffected, himself. a pretty rose hue decorates the tips of his ears, dusted faintly against his cheeks. "hi," he replies back, stiff as he tries not to show his enthusiasm too obviously.
you inhale sharply, steeling your guts to do what you wanted to do before you think about backing out of it. you fish at your pockets, feeling for the trinket you hid there moments prior.
he blinks at you as you take it out, opening your hands palm-up to display the hand-crafted keychain you made yourself.
"happy birthday, zanka," you murmur, presenting the miniature lovely assistaff you crafted for his birthday present.
the look on his face is one you want to etch into your brain to remember foreverâeyes widening with something like awe, beaming at the sight of the transformed state of his vital instrument recreated in excellent detail.
"you, uhm," he trails, keeping himself from being too excited over it. you find it adorable. "ya made this yerself? it's so detailed," zanka remarks, tone admiring. "ah, ya even got all 'er spikes! yer amazin'."
you can't help but preen at his compliments, having your craft be praised so genuinely by zanka, of all people. "yeah. I made it for you," you say, tripping over your own words at your phrasing. "well. uhm. it's a keychain. so you can attach it to your bag, y'know?" you cringe. of course he knows what a keychain is!
zanka, bless his soul, doesn't seem to mind your awkward rambling. he smiles, accepting your token readily. your hand brushes against his, pressing the keychain onto his palm. before you could move it away, his other hand lands on top of yours, sandwiching yours between his.
his hands are coldâthey've always naturally beenâbut all you felt was the warmth that rushed up your face at his actions. zanka squeezed your hand with the one on top of yours, tentatively lacing your fingers together.
he doesn't know what possesed him to suddenly get so bold, but he can't stop now that he's dug himself knee-deep into this hole.
zanka steps closer, bringing your joined hands up until it was the only thing keeping you from being inches apart. the sunlight hits his deep blue eyes perfectly, filtering through his lashes and lighting his irises. you're starstruck.
he leans closer, the back of his hand touching your lips, his own pressing against your ring finger, brushing across the knuckle. he smiles against your skin, gazing right at you, not breaking eye contact. "thanks," he whispered, words ghosting above your digits.
oh, you were so fucked.
he moves away before you could process the touchâthe indirect kiss?âleaving you dumbfounded.
you gape. "no problem..." you blurt a reply, then an excuse, and then a quick "see you later!" before running away, abashed and confused and way too happy at what just unfolded.
his own flusteredness peaked the moment you were out of sight. zanka curses under his breath, still feeling the lingering trail of your lips on the back of his hand, head replaying the moment over and over again.
his other hand clenches, holding tightly onto the charm you gifted him. the gift you took the time and effort to make, just for him. zanka loosens his hold, looking at the keychain once again.
to say it was well-thought of was an understatement. the trinket was accurate to lovely assistaff, holding details that would only be noticed if someone took the time to watch him closely when she's activated.
he hated that he felt all fuzzy at what that implied.
zanka sighs, clutching at the keychain tightly. he feels embarrassed. giddy, too. but mostly embarrassed. your lips felt soft, as far as he could tell with the small contact he greedily stole from you.
it makes him wonder what it'd feel against his own. what it'd feel like to properly kiss you. hand on your waist, tasting your chapstick type of proper. now that would be one hell of a birthday gift.
"i'm doomed, assistaffâŚ" he mumbles to himself, hiding his face in his hands.
đ đđđ â a collection of one shots following the same universeâsnippets of moments together, building up into a budding romance. each one shot could be read alone or chronologically (suggested).
đđđđđđđ â gn!combat athlete!reader x michael kaiser
đđ đ đđđđđđđ â no usage of y/n; fluff and crack mostly; not slow burn but not a fast burn either; lightly suggestive themes (nothing nsfw); usage of alcohol (nothing too relevant); descriptions of kaiser's backstory; other warnings are given per chapter; timeline takes place a few years after blue lock (kaiser and reader are both in their early 20s); reader is loosely inspired by yohan seong (lookism)âmostly on their fighting style
day 1: regal â 2.1k . the athlete awarding event leads you to an interesting person.
day 2: lapis â 1.2k . kaiser gets upset at a broken (not on purpose) promise.
day 3: sapphire â 2.7k . shidou and sae sets you up with your totally-not-crush on a totally-not-double-date.
day 4: cornflower â ice cream and beach tomfoolery.
day 5: midnight â elevator ride of doom and despair, or so you'd like to think.
day 6: cerulean â two oblivious idiots in a library
day 7: electric â happy birthday, michael.
i'm actually giggling writing this short series hhhh i love micha smmmm my beautiful boyfriend<333 ik i wrote smth for him last year butttt i wanted to one up that this year. shoutout to my irls for making sure i actually work on this LOL ily
taglist (ask to be added): @sincerelyariwari @neversam
content:: his tattoos looked a little plain. good for you, you had markers on-hand. part two of artist!reader.
crack . 1.1k
additional:: bickering, swearing, romantic undertones, reader has a lowkey crush on him
masterlist.
One thing you like about your muse is his tattoo.
From the blue rose inked on his neck, the thorny vines wrapping down his arm like a sleeve, to the keyhole adorned crown that sat on the back of his left hand. As an artist, you found it quite interesting. Something that held a big significance to someone, clearly. It's beautiful.
At times, you can't help but want to see it up close. Can't help but want to trace along each intricate line. Maybe even doodle a thing or two along his arm, as well.
Yes, you still consider him an op. The thought of throwing stones at him while booing still passes through your mind once in every while every time he does something that mildly ticks you. Though, you could hold more civil conversations without insulting each other at every reply. Hell, you've managed to compliment him a few timesâ the look of surprise that briefly flashes through his face was amusing. The difference from when you first met is insane.
Right now, you spot Kaiser lounging by the sofa in the buildings, flicking through gameplays of whatever. Because you wanted to grace him with your awesome presence, you sat down beside him, eyes instantly locking onto his tatted arms, placed absently on his lap whilst he decidedly ignored you.
Dang, it was like a free canvas begging for you to draw something on it.
As discreetly as you canâ which was fairly noticeableâ you reach for his arm, dragging it to your lap instead. Kaiser raised an eyebrow, blue eyes shifting to what you were doing. Along the line of your beefing artist-muse relationship, he had gotten used to you randomly snatching away his hand to draw on. It's a weird thing you do, but he could make fun of you because of it, so he didn't have many complaints.
You started with softly tracing the crown with your fingers, acting all subtle. After a while, you decided to screw being discreet and took a marker out with your other hand, fiddling with the stationary before managing to take the cap off. At this point, Kaiser's attention had left the running television, instead watching you scribble along his arm. His brow raised as you made a doodle. âIs that a pig?â
âWhat? This is clearly a cat,â you scoff in offense. How dare he call the small kitty you drew near his wrist a pig. âYou need better glasses,â you remark, proceeding to make a little stickman climbing up the vine tattoo. Like Jack and the beanstalk. You just drew whatever came to mind, stars, flowers, and a walmart version of the Mona Lisa.
Kaiser stared at you as you made more doodles along his arm. Blue eyes watched your expert fingers make cute little linearts on his skinâ which he'd die out of embarrassment from if anyone ever saw it. Speaking of dying, he voiced out a concern that popped up in his mind. âEver thought this might give me ink poisoning?â
You smiled, filling in the black stripes of a mini zebra you etched. âThat'd be amazing. Can't wait to see you confined in a hospital,â you jested, making him roll his eyes at your tomfoolery.
âAha, you'd be missing your muse day and night if you committed to that,â he scoffed, leaning over to a more comfortable position. âDon't you wanna sketch me all the time like it's your full-time job?â Kaiser teased, and you used that opportunity to start a little back and forth.
âI'm drawing you âcause nobody else would be interested enough to. Basically charity work, you easy-to-draw failed hairstyle experiment.â
âPlease, sounds to me like you just wanna hoard the âthat one Kaiser artistâ title,â he then tilted his head at your latter statement, a bit offended. â...failed hairstyle experimentâ Hey, my hair isn't that bad. You're being overdramatic.â
You shrugged. âIt's a disaster to draw. So it is bad,â you retort. âSometimes, I would even prefer to have you bald just to avoid sketching your hair.â
He gapedâ giving way too much theatric flair in acting offendedâ before snapping back into his usual asshole demeanor. âSure. Like you wouldn't miss it,â he bit back, a strained smirk crossing his face. âYou always draw it extra fluffy. Seems to me that you want to run your hands all over my hair really bad.â
âYeah. So I can pull on your rat tails,â you huff, doodling a little bow on his wrist. âAnd then yank them so hard they detach from your scalp.â
âYou are not doing that.â
âYuh uh.â
âNuh uh," he huffs. He gives you a look when you pinch his arm. âBrat. I let you draw on my arm and this is how you treat me?â he scoffed, acting like he was personally insultedâ which he was, but stillâ and yanked his hand away from you, pushing your face away like it just offended his eyes. You frown at having your canvas taken away from you.
You cross your arms, huffing under your breath. âYouâre no fun," you were pouting. Pouting. He felt his eye twitch.
âFor not letting you pull on my hair...?â
âAnd for taking my canvas away.â
Kaiser sighed. Loudly. So you could hear his exasperation. âOh my god, you're so infuriating. Do you want me that bad?â self-centered prick. Of course he won't let you be victorious in this out-annoying each other.
âEw,â you make a show to physically cringe and gag, taking your point across. âIâd rather shit on my hands and clap,â you retort, willing yourself not to get startled when he draws closer, to the point he was slightly leaning over you, using that damn height to his advantage.
He looks at you for a few seconds, watching. Half-judgemental, half starting a staring contest. You think you should focus on the contact being awkwardâ but did his eyes look this pretty up close? He stayed silent after your words for a couple of moments, before snickering. Kaiser brushed his hair back, pulling away, putting his hand on your lap, arm on full display to doodle on at your heart's complaint. âYeah, right,â he exhales longly, acting like he was doing you a favor.
You blink, wondering why the hell your heart went slightly faster at him staring at you like a cat. Ugh, fuck. You really hate this guy. Him and his stupid blue eyes. Mentally slapping yourself, you go back to drawing on his arm. A smiley face, a cloud, that one âs' and...
Your signature. On Kaiser's skin.
 You smirk, feeling like this could be the perfect thing to tease him with next. Except, you kinda felt giddy about having a little something of you on him.
...
What the fuck.
i saw this halfway done in my drafts and decided to finally finish it
Folks: you CANNOT censor trigger tags. When you block a tag, it doesn't block other "spellings" of it. Writing it as "r@pe" or "r4p3" means that someone who has "tw rape" as a blocked tag will still see that post because you didn't wanna say the word rape. You are hurting people. Do not censor words, because people do not have those filtered out.
And honestly if you can't even write the word rape to protect other people then you probably aren't old/mature enough to discuss the topic.
stop making fanfics about characters raping and sexually assaulting y/n, you are fucking disgusting people who romanticize a serious crime that happens every day to children and women
"but that's just reading dark romance" that's not a dark romance, that's just the stuff of a horrible fetish, IF YOU HAVE A RAPE FETISH, GO SEEK FOR FUCKING PSYCHIATRIST HELP!!!!!!!!!!
descr: (how yandere kuroo deals with your overbearing mother) years of abuse from your overbearing, cancerous mother has transformed you into a feeble version of yourself & kuroo decides to take action.
warnings: parental death, murder, body shaming, emotional neglect from parent, kidnapping, mentions of suicide and self harm. (none of which is explicit or graphic, besides body shaming/neglect.)
how many times had he plucked you from your ball on the ground, a heap of tears, racked by waves of hysteria and betrayal, and cradled you back to security? had he kissed you, reaffirmed everything you needed to hear, and begged you not to return home?
its becoming clearer and clearer to kuroo that itâs not a matter of when but how.
how would he uncoil the roots of a possessive motherâs hold, tightening around your neck and yielding all oxygen flow, all room for movement and thought and choices? once he eliminated the cancer, then he could consider how to inject himself into your line of vision, of decision, of every thought and worry under the sun. when would you worry about what to make for dinner, and if kuroo was coming home late that day?
even now youâre panicked, teary eyed because youâre late to the family function, some crude fucking dinner with white claws leaving lightened rings on the polished wood tables, corn hole being set up on the opposing sides of the living area, and the incessant chatter and one-upping that he could tolerate, but he knew you couldnât stomach.
âthis is gonna be a shit show.â heâd huffed, inspecting your features closely from the corner of his eye. youâre the absolute opposite of elated, in its most extreme form. would that be dread? youâre dreading seeing your family, being trapped with them for an extended period of time. kuroo reaches for your hand.
âhey, itâs gonna be fine, babe. you know thereâll be a couple of jerky, offhanded comments but iâll fend them off. no problem. i donât have to worry about them not liking me.â he states, hoping to quell that troubled expression. he fails to address the growing concern, as bile bubbles in the pit of your stomach.
âitâs not them, tetsu, you know how my mom is. she likes my cousins more than me, and now that weâre late, sheâs going to somehow manage to relate it to my worth as a human being.â your face crumbles, make-up creasing at the corners of your eyes, and your hands tremble. kuroo scowls.
âletâs ditch it then. fuck your mom. iâm sick of her treating you like this. she has no fucking right to tell you how you should be spending your money, how you should be dressing, what you should eat, how you should lookâ itâs bullshit, Y/n, and you know it.â
of course you knew it was bullshit, and yes, you knew it wasnât true. but how are you to abandon your parent, the person you depended on for survival for the first integral years of your life? while she hurt you more than she helped you, you still loved your mother. her word is not truth, but itâs hard to accept it as anything else. thereâs always a method to her madness, and if she sees you one way, whoâs to say sheâs wrong? maybe you were too chunky, maybe you did eat too much, and maybe the job you were working was a waste of time. and maybe you didnât spend your money too responsibly. it was something to consider. your mother loves you, after all.
âi know she loves me. she just⌠has a tough way of showing it. sheâs just concerned, thatâs all.â you tell him, a weak smile on your lips as you push the car door open. kuroo grits his teeth, irritated as hell, because he can never, ever fucking win against your mother. the power you give that woman is astonishing.
as soon as youâre through the front door, your older cousin is shoving a can of hard seltzer in your hand. itâs already cracked open and slick. you take a sip, and ask where your mom is. she motions to the kitchen.
kuroo is quick to rejoin you by your side, idle conversation with your materialistic family was not something he preferred to engage in, and heâd much rather nip a breakdown following a conversation with your mother in the bud than exchange pleasantries.
âhi mom.â you greet feebly, watching her back as she pushes a glass pan into the oven. she throws her mitts off, and spins around to face you with an aggravated expression.
âchrist, y/n, you knew i needed help in the kitchen. you couldnât bother coming a little earlier to help me out? i canât ever fucking rely on you, youâre too damn lazy.â
kuroo watches you visibly deflate, curling into yourself instinctively, taking the blow with heavy resignation. âiâm so sorry, mom, i didnât want tetsurou to speed through the traffic. i didnât mean to, but i promise, iâm here to help you now. what can i do?â
she scoffs, effectively ignoring you as she returns to the cutting board on the counter, removing the stem from bell pepper laying atop it.
kuroo is already sick of it, sick of the breakdown he would have to deescalate later, no thanks to your deadbeat, piece of shit mother, and sick of how quickly you accepted defeat.
âwell hello to you, too, y/m/n.â kuroo gets in, your mother simply grunts at him in response. kurooâs eye twitches, but for the sake of your happiness, he keeps his mouth shut.
you try to resurrect whatever mood had illuminated the kitchen before, examining the contents of the bowl next to the stove and observing it needed to be mixed. as soon as itâs in your hands, itâs ripped away from your grip, your smug mother is eager to tell you,
âquit being such a pig. you can have one serving like everyone else when iâm done. just go sit down and try not to eat all of the appetizers.â
you want to cry, so so badly. you wished you were shocked, you wished that you hadnât been expecting this, that this was out of the ordinary, and that it hurt so much lesser than it did. you wear your emotions so immensely on your face, and kuroo barely manages to keep it together.
âoh shit, babe, i forgot how bad of a cook your mom is. letâs go grab something else to eat. go say goodbye to your family, alright?â he tells you, the smile on his lips is tight with rusted hinges, creamy ripples in the corners.
your family was trailer trash, he knew that. they were self-absorbed, petty, and materialisticâeverything that you were not. within that frame of time, he decides that you werenât going to be around that anymore for your own good, and he knew you probably wouldnât be happy with it at first, but youâd come to realize that it was better this way soon enough.
kuroo was going to perform surgery.
itâs when you come home from an exhausting day of work, and you want nothing more than to be held in the strong arms of your boyfriend when you get the news: mom was dead. murdered, and brutally at that.
youâre not tearful. in fact, you feel nothing at all. thereâs no dread, no sorrow, no relief. thereâs nothing to process, and yet kuroo regards you carefully, cupping your face gingerly as he wipes nonexistent tear tracks from under your eyes.
âhow are you feeling, princess?â
before, youâd noticed kuroo was a little more high strung than usual, more alert. you attributed it to anxiousness, having to deal with the explosive aftermath of the discovery, the realization and your shock, but you could also recognize that kuroo wasnât all there. he was watching you attentively, genuine concern was evident, but he was fervent.
he continues to speak, despite your silence, âthat old bitch had it coming, baby. one of these days, she was going to drop dead from her last cigarette, or someone was going to get her. it was inevitable.â
was it? she seemed lively enough the weekend prior. alive and well enough to tell you how much of a pig you are and how disappointing you were. you always neglect to acknowledge that side of her, the facade, the front of charisma that had others insisting that she must be a great mother; that you were lucky. you canât imagine who wanted to hurt herâŚ
âand, now that sheâs gone, y/n, i think we should consider moving to the town overââ
âtetsu, no. no. i⌠i need to stay here. with my family, with myâŚâ your saliva is thick, like honey, in the back of your throat, âmom. i want to stay here with my mom. i canât leave her.â
his chest rumbles beneath you as he groans, the vibrations shook your core, âi was hopinâ you wouldnât say that.â
how many times had he held you so closely following a nasty argument with your mom? when she shamed you for going up a size? how often was he the only ally in your corner?
he couldnât understand what evoked this reaction; as your primary caretaker, he expected more trust from you. less fear, less anger, and certainly less crying.
the house is so cute, so you. itâs conveniently remote, tucked into a generously distanced suburban neighborhood. the houses arenât on top of each other, and the grocery store is a good 20 minute drive. he furnished the house to mirror what he understood you liked, so why were you so unhappy?
youâre situated on the edge of the bed, itâs king sized, plush, and aesthetically pleasing. but youâre pissed. scowling, the cuff grating the skin on your ankle shrinks beneath the heat of your glare.
âthis is fucking crazy. youâre fucking crazy.â youâre saying, too sick and too bemused to look him in the eye. he canât stand it.
âyeah, iâm crazy. iâm the one who defends the person who has driven them to the point of near suicide and self harm and extreme depression, that i literally cannot function without support.â he spits. he was leant against the doorframe, observing for signs of life or perhaps forgiveness and resignation. he was met with neither. just that same pathetic anger, unmatched and unrivaled by his strength.
you falter at his words, and he smirks. he could dismantle any and all arguments you posed with an apathetic definitiveness, and it made the hair on your arms stand, and your heart fall.
âtetsurou, i donât want to be here. i wanted to stay by my family. it doesnât matter how badly theyâve treated me, and i fucking know the bad outweighs the good, but i⌠i just canât. i canât leave them behind. i donât want to cut them out, theyâre all i have. theyâre my family.â youâre tearful, pleading, but youâve gotten thus far without any retreat from kuroo. and that spoke volumesâthis was the way it was going to be. you just couldnât accept it.
in the midst of your plea, he had gritted his teeth and stalked toward you. his hand, rough and firm, grips your chin, guiding it upward. your eyes meet his.
heâs pained slightly, but his eyes are more stoney and unwavering than all else. he is eternally unyielding, and itâs painful.
âiâm your family, y/n.â he says.
âyouâre right.â you concede. âyou are my family, well, youâre like them, anyway. youâre making my decisions for me, youâre hurting me, and you donât care. you rationalize it with a smile and some bullshit apology, some crap you tell yourself and you think iâll just accept. but this? this is wrong. this is not love. iâm your prisoner.â
âjesus christ!â he swears, bringing his hand to his head to seize a fistful of hair. âeverything i do, everything iâve done, itâs been for you! i fucking love you, y/n. i would kill for you.â
oh. âkill?â
you fall back onto the bed, sickly. the soft cotton prickles your skin, and the pale ceiling, smoothed to perfection, is spinning in taunting circles before your eyes.
ây/n?â
kill, heâd kill for you. kill. kill. kill.
your ankle is bolstered to the floor, youâre fucking helpless. before you stands the master of your fate, the shaper of your past, the fucking killer of your mother. heâs the warden, and yet he is also the doting boyfriend.
This is a triggering topic. For reasons, read at your own risk.
Even if your not reading it, please reblog. I want this to get
Tw: s3xual h4rassment
Hi everyone. So remember sober husk? Aka @/ember-oc?
He was racist, and blamed it on his sleep deprivation. I know, pretty fucked up. I'd think by now he'd learnt his lesson. But no, instead he continues to be a horrible person.
Being racist to multiple people, and now engaging in a non-consenual s3xual relationship with someone who clearly wanted nothing to do with him.
He s3xually harassed them. It disgusts me to see how FUCKED people can be sometimes.
Here is proof.
Why are the msgs edited? They said they kept misspelling things which I can confirm. They do misspell a lot. And imagine being put in THIS situation. Imagine how traumatized and scared they were. Yes, they're going to misspell.
This is disgusting. The most degenerative, diabolical shit I have ever seen.
Not only forcing someone to e-s3x with them, even making them do dirty things on VC?
Its absolutely foul. He needs to take accountability, apologize for the shit he has done. He cant just sit in silence and not expect consequences. For now, it seems his blog is inactive. Despite that, I still demand an apology from this cowardly fuck.
Its so surprising to see him stoop this low, getting off to a person he didnt meet irl. Its pathetic.
